Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“You can, hon, but you gotta make twenty shots consecutively to win it,” Brett warned.
“I can do that,” Emma asserted, even if it was highly doubtful she knew the word consecutively or could throw a basketball more than four feet.
“I’m not sure even Kevin Durant can do that,” Abigail muttered.
“Will you hold this?” Hutch asked Liam solemnly, offering Hannibal’s lead to the boy.
His shades flicked up to Abigail, something passed between them, and she nodded.
But I knew, if Hutch told Hannibal to stay, he wouldn’t move, but Liam would think he was in control of a massive, glossy black, muscle-packed dog.
I mean, who was this guy?
“Okay,” Liam replied reverently and took the leash.
“Hannibal, stay,” Hutch ordered.
The dog licked his chops and settled next to Liam on his behind.
Hutch moved away and gave the tall, gangly high school kid five dollars for three goes.
I checked the rule sign, and it said, if you got all three, you won a prize and got to keep going, the prizes getting nicer the more baskets you made. But if you missed, you had to start again.
Hutch took the ball and set up at a line that was probably several inches farther than a free-throw line.
While he was doing this, Abigail sidled up beside me. I knew she was going to say something, but then Hutch sprang up, his arms in the air, his wrists flicking, the hem of both tees riding up to show his six pack, and she didn’t speak.
My own mouth went a little dry (okay, a lot dry).
But the ball went whoosh!
“Yay, Missa Hutch!” Emma cried.
The kid brought the ball back.
Hutch barely set up before he let go and…
Whoosh!
This time, the kid eyed him like he wasn’t bored out of his skull and would prefer to be hanging with his buds or holding hands walking the tent aisles with his main squeeze.
And…
Whoosh!
“You win a prize,” the kid said, handing him the ball.
Hutch took it and…
Whoosh!
The kid jerked around to stare at the net as that happened.
He went after the ball and brought it to Hutch.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
A crowd was forming.
Emma had declared herself Hutch’s one-girl cheerleading squad and was shouting her encouragement while she did random straight arm moves and kicked out her hips.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
The kid brought back the ball, his eyes wide, his Adam’s apple bobbing and…
Whoosh!
“That’s fifteen,” the kid said, handing him the ball. “You get to pick from that shelf—”
Whoosh!
I jumped and clapped.
“Oh my God, Hutch! You go!” I yelled.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
We had a huge crowd and now everyone was shouting encouragement.
Whoosh!
At this point, the kid was as excited as everyone else.
“One more, man, you got this!” he yelled, bending his knees and leaning over, shifting his weight from foot to foot and clapping his hands like Hutch was going to pass him the ball.
But I was freaking.
He was this close to winning.
What if he—?
Whoosh!
A wave of sound struck us as the crowd went wild, and being part of that crowd, Tonks danced and howled.
I was so into it, dragging my dog with me, I threw myself at him.
He caught me at the waist with one arm and pulled me up his body.
“Oh my God, honey!” I yelled in his face. “That was so rad!”
He gave me a squeeze, the most miniscule lip twitch in history that was almost, but not quite, indicative of a smile, and sliding me slowly down his lean, hard frame, he dropped me to my feet.
It was only then I realized what had just happened.
And part of that was he not only didn’t push me away, he didn’t make it awkward.
He was right there with me.
“And we have a winner!” the kid yelled like a circus barker, bringing over the pink bear and handing it to Hutch with his own version of hero worship on his face.
Hutch instantly turned and handed it to Emma.
She struggled with it, listing and almost going down, but by damn, she kept hold of the bear and her feet, even as she shouted from behind yards of fake pink fur, “Thank you, Missa Hutch!”
“You get a personal tour of the sanctuary with me, if your parents are okay with that,” he said to Liam.
Clearly, this was no consolation prize.
Liam’s head whipped round to his dad. “Can I, Dad?”
“Of course,” Brett said, grinning.
“I wanna see a moose!” Emma cried.
“Mr. Hutch got you the bear,” Liam pointed out.
She bit her lip in indecision, then hugged her bear tight.
“Good choice,” I told her, even though I knew, when this tour happened, Abigail and Brett would bring her too.
“How about I go put that in the car?” Brett said, prying the mammoth blob of pink fuzz from his daughter. Before he took off, he looked at Hutch. “Thanks, man. That was spectacular.”
Hutch shrugged.
Brett handed Hutch his caramel apple and took off.
Hutch took the leash from Liam with a “Thanks, bud.”