The air was a blanket of carnival food—funnel cakes, popcorn, corn dogs, caramel apples and pretzels. It was humid as the Florida air made everything sticky and the crowded fair didn't help the oppressive feeling. Still, it didn't matter. She was there with Clint and Abigail, trying not to get sick on the rides and watching him throw baseballs and rings to attempt to win “his two ladies" a stuffed animal. She laughed as he forked over another five dollar bill to the man on the other side of the wood barrier and was handed his three baseballs. “You're going to go broke, you know. No one wins at these games."
He just looked at her with an exaggerated shocked look on his face. “Oh ye of little faith."
“Okay," she said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “But don't say I didn't warn you
