I’m reminded of how close I was to taking things a step further. The thought that he might have been able to tell, and ended the kiss before I could, gives my heart a panicked rush.
I force a smile. “Just doing my best to put on a show for our friends.”
“Uh-huh.” He smirks. “Sure.”
“Can I help you with anything?”
We both turn our attention to the sweet older woman manning the fireworks tent.
“Oh, uh, yeah. We’re looking for fireworks,” I say dumbly.
“Then you’ve come to the right place,” she says with a beaming smile. “I’ve got bamboo sparklers, snappers, snakes, poppers. Anything you can think of!”
I look at the display she has set up on the table, my eyes landing on each item as I look for the bigger stuff. I’ve never bought fireworks, so I don’t know what any of it is called. All I know is that I’m looking for the kind of firework that shoots up into the sky and puts on a colorful show. I don’t see any of that on this table.
“Do you have any daytime fireworks?” I ask.
“Any of these can be used during the day,” she says, waving her hand over the table. “But maybe you’re looking for the colored smoke? Most people use these for gender reveal parties.” She picks up a box and looks down at my stomach, then meets my eyes, glancing between me and Oliver. “How long have you two been together?”
“One week,” I say at the same time as Oliver says, “About a year.”
I frown at him, then look back at the woman, who has a nervous smile now.
“Right. A year,” I say, backtracking. “Time flies so fast, sometimes it only feels like a week.” I elbow him, annoyed. “But we were looking for something big, like the type of fireworks that explode in the sky on the fourth of July.”
“Ah. You’re looking for aerial fireworks,” she says. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any of those here. All of the stuff I have here is made by my husband and our two sons. Since this is a makers’ market, vendors aren’t allowed to sell anything we didn’t make ourselves. We do have another pop-up stand where we sell aerial fireworks, but it’s not open for another two weeks. It will be in the grocery store parking lot right up the street.”
“Oh. I see.” I take another look at the fireworks she has on display. It looks like professional quality stuff, even if it is disappointing that she doesn’t have what I’m looking for right now. “All of this stuff is homemade?”
She nods. “The sparklers and poppers tend to be a fan favorite.”
Now I feel bad about walking away without buying anything. “I’ll take twenty poppers.”
Oliver raises an eyebrow. I hand over enough cash to pay for the poppers while the woman puts them in a paper bag for me.
“Poppers?” he says as we walk away. “I don’t think that’s what either Tina or Ryan had in mind when they said they wanted fireworks.”
“Maybe it’s not for them.” I take one out of the bag and throw it at his feet. There’s a loudpopas it hits the ground. Oliver jumps, and so do a few other people around us. I laugh at him.
“Not funny,” he says. “I’ll get you back for that.”
He reaches into my bag before I can stop him and grabs a handful of poppers. I shriek and run away as he aims one at my feet. He throws it, and it pops on the asphalt right behind me. I turn around and throw one back at him. He trips as it lands right between his feet. I turn around and run again, but he’s right behind me. He throws another popper, this one landing in front of me. I come to an abrupt stop and almost fall forward.
“What happened to our truce?” I shriek as he throws two more at my feet.
“I’m pretty sure you broke it when you started throwing explosives at me,” he says.
I reach into my bag and grab another popper, but before I can throw it, someone grips my arm from behind, stopping me. Oliver’s eyes go wide. I turn to see who’s behind me, expecting to see Tina, but it’s not her. The person gripping my arm is a very large man wearing a security polo. He towers over me.
“I’m going to have to ask you to put the fireworks away and leave the market,” the man says.
My face turns red. “I’m so sorry,” I say. “I had no idea these weren’t allowed. I’ll put them away, but can I please stay? My friends are here and I?—”
“I’ll escort you off the premises,” he says. His hand is still gripping my arm firmly. “I don’t want to have to get the police involved.”
My chin quivers. I’ve never been kicked out of a place before, and certainly never had anyone threaten to call the cops on me.
“Do you really think it’s necessary to grab her arm like that?” Oliver says. “Let go of her.”
