Zeke totally noticed. He may have even swallowed hard.

The booth had been a big success. Starting with the second baseman for the A’s, they’d worked their way through the pop singer, the spaghetti author, and a weatherman who was subbing for the news anchor. Chase had talked Carol into having her nephew build a covered area from which the celebrity appeared, eliciting gasps and applause. Well, except for the weatherman. Carol had revealed that he’d slept with his coworker and she’d been married. No one really liked him, but he was the only one who could come from the news station. At any rate, this grand reveal had drawn quite a crowd and kept the line for the dunking booth long. They’d already tripled their donations from last year, and the Hammer hadn’t even made his appearance.

Sure enough, Zeke missed on the next throw.

She hammed it up, sticking out her tongue, stretching her arms back, allowing her breasts, with nipples that were likely hard enough to cut glass, to be showcased. Part of her was embarrassed, and part of her liked the way Zeke couldn’t seem to focus on the bull’s-eye.

He threw.

Missed again.

The crowd booed. Zeke grinned, giving her a wink, and she knew he’d missed on purpose. Thank goodness, because she couldn’t take another plunge into that cold water.

Chase waved at everyone before carefully climbing toward the curtained platform where she could see Spencer holding a towel.

“Good work, Ladybug,” Spencer said, holding out the towel and then wrapping her shoulders with it.

“It’s so cold,” she managed through chattering teeth.

“Good thing you got a lumberjack to warm you up,” Spencer joked, briskly rubbing her arms.

Chase wiped her face and pulled away, keeping the big towel. “What are you wearing?”

“My surf suit.”

“You know the ladies are going to want to see that chest.”

“Unlike you, I’m not selling sex here.” Spencer looked down at her pebbled nipples.

“Hey, stop looking.” She wrapped the towel around her and made a face.

Spencer just laughed and unzipped his skintight surfer wet suit so that part of his chest was revealed. “Don’t worry. You’re like my sister. So cover the hell up. Anyway, I guess I should have a sense of humor about being a sex object.”

“And so humble about it,” she said sarcastically.

“Hey, I know who I am.”