“Yes, I’m Felicity Lightburne,” she managed to say. She stepped forward and extended her hand to him.
“I’m Dwayne Carver.” He took her hand, his fingers warm and wonderful against hers. He easily stood over six feet tall and sandy blond hair peeked out from under his cowboy hat. A different one from Friday night, Felicity noted.
“Sorry about the dunking,” she added as he pumped her hand. Sparks traveled up her arm and popped through her shoulders. He pulled his hand away quickly and stuffed it in his pocket.
“You ruined a three-year record, I’ll have you know.” He sounded grumpy about it, and his bright blue eyes crackled with lightning. “And my best pair of boots.”
She glanced at his footwear, which seemed just fine to her. “I played softball growing up.” She didn’t mention her father
