its existence. It felt permanent, right—the very fabric from which came my wonderful family . . . myself.
And yet all that couldn’t calm the stirring I felt inside of me. I shivered, thinking about what I’d just done . . . what I would do again, as surely as I drew breath. Something “outside” had taken hold of me. Something that scared me, thrilled me, and drew me to it nonetheless.
The next day, I lingered just out of sight, around the corner of a building, until two-thirty. My gesture of independence—showing him he couldn’t really control me. However, even from there, he had a magnetic effect on me.
He was something to look at, all right—six feet tall; dark brown hair streaked from the sun that tended to fall in his eyes when he bent his head; a small nose, lush lips, and those midnight-black eyes. He had no shirt on, and his dark, deeply tanned skin shone from sweat and the sun as his muscles rippled.
Even as I peeked around the corner, watching him, a woman waltzed up to him and began what was obviously a flirtation. I didn’t know her; she wasn’t from around here. When he actually stopped his inspection work and began to talk with her, I couldn’t help myself. I popped out and strolled casually up to the Death Machine. His eyes were on me even as he talked to the other woman. She moved her head, trying to catch his gaze, and then, when that failed, she turned and saw me standing about ten feet away. His eyes twinkled and that knowing grin spread over his handsome face. The woman looked flustered, then angry, but she gave up, turned on her heels, and stalked off, leaving me to face my temptation.
“Hi,” he murmured, the grin never leaving his face.
“Hi, yourself,” I answered.
“Didn’t know if you were going to show,” he said.
“I thought about it,” I said.
“And?”
“And . . . well, I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve never done anything like. . . .” I couldn’t quite say “last night,” but I could feel the color creeping up my neck into my face as I thought about it. Rebel laughed, then looked at me for a long moment.
“I didn’t think you had,” he said with a look of satisfaction on his face. “Want a beer?”
“Okay,” I said. “But what about the Death Machine? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
He pointed to a man climbing along the roller coaster tracks high overhead. “Naw, Earl’s got it. I’ve got some free time, anyway. C’mon.”
I followed him to a long “gooseneck” trailer parked on the back edge of the fairgrounds. He unlocked the door and climbed in. I followed. I was surprised by the roominess of the place. Rebel opened the small refrigerator and fetched two beers, opening them, then passing one to me as I stood, trying not to be too obvious in my curiosity.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Ever seen one of these before?” he asked, motioning around the room.
“Not up close. It’s nice.”
“Makes for decent living quarters on the road,” he said, shrugging. “Anyway, beats a motel room every night.” As he talked, he watched me in a level, appraising way. It made me a bit uncomfortable. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I didn’t know this guy at all. For all practical purposes, he was a complete stranger to me.
Clutching the beer, I edged toward the door. He was leaning against the kitchen sink counter opposite the door, one leg crossed over the other, sipping his beer. As I inched toward the door and reached for the handle, he grinned.
“A little nervous, aren’t you? What do you think I might do? Make love to you again? But, why would you be nervous about that?” He cocked his head sideways and winked at me.
I was dumbfounded. I could feel my face getting redder. In my consternation, I looked at the floor, not knowing what to say or do.
Just then, he leaned forward and his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. Startled, I tried to jerk away, but his grasp was too strong. He held me motionless, looking deeply into my eyes. I felt weak—too weak to fight. At that moment, he could’ve done anything he wanted to me. But all he did was pull me to him and press his lips tenderly to mine as he released me. The gesture took my breath away.
Then, before I knew what had happened, he was out the door, standing there, holding it open for me to leave. I stepped out, confused. He closed the door behind us and began strolling back toward the midway. As I walked beside him, I could feel the heat building between us. We were almost touching, yet not. I wanted to reach out and wrap my arms around him, but something stopped me. It was as though he’d put up a barrier between us. No matter how much I wanted him, I couldn’t touch him. Only he could break the barrier.
Then we were back at the roller coaster. He waved to Earl and picked up his tools. I stood mute, not knowing what to do or say.
“See you tonight at one,” he said matter-of-factly, then turned and climbed up onto the entry platform.
I felt dismissed. And angry. He surely had his nerve, assuming that I’d be there when he said, at his beck and call.
“You don’t even know my name!” I shouted at his back.
“Yes, I do, Mindy.” He turned his head and smiled wickedly at me.
How did he know?
I hadn’t told him.
At least—I didn’t think that I had.
I whirled around and left. It was all I could do to keep from running out the gate.
As the clock on my nightstand ticked away the hours and minutes, I remained determined that I would not go to the carnival that night. My friends, Kelly and Michelle, had called, wanting me to go with a group of our friends from work. I’d turned them down, pleading a headache, but knowing it was truly because I wanted to eliminate the temptation of seeing Rebel again. I didn’t dare tell anyone about my encounter.
Yet, as I lay on my bed watching television, through my open window, I could hear snatches of carnival music wafting over the summer night breeze. Unbidden, the memory of his body against mine, the pressure of his lips, the sweetness of his kisses—all of it began to creep around the edges of my mind. My breath began to come in ragged gasps as the feelings took over.
Then the memory of walking so close, but not being able to touch him, insinuated itself. He’d awakened something in me that I hadn’t known was there. No one and nothing in this town had ever had that effect on me before—and probably never would. And soon, Rebel would be gone, and all my chances for those feelings would be gone with him. It was more than I could bear. The clock said twelve-twenty-seven.
I could just make it.
Plagued by indecision, I dressed slowly, thinking that if I was late, maybe he’d be gone. Then it would be over. Out of my hands. I knew I needed to be saved from myself. But the clothes I pulled on were a miniskirt and a cropped top—hardly an outfit to discourage a man. My desire was working hard against me.
I glanced at the clock again. Twelve-fifty-five. Suddenly, a shot of adrenaline surged through me. I had
