Page 50 of Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC 7)

He glanced down at the target, raised it over his head, and held it under the dim overhead lights. After a few long seconds of staring at it, he sighed heavily and pinned the target to the wall of fame.

“Which one?” he asked.

“You know which one,” she said as she nodded her head toward the stuffed cat.

He pulled the striped cat from the overhead hook and handed it to her. “One prize per group per night. Have a nice time, folks.”

She turned to face me, grinned, and shoved the cat into her purse. “That took longer than I expected.”

“You could have given up an hour ago,” I said as I glanced at my watch.

“Seriously? And give up? Uhhm, no. I would have stayed there until midnight if I had to,” she said.

Good to know.

“Pretty nice shooting, though,” I said.

“I’m from Texas. Everyone in Texas knows how to shoot,” she said.

I nodded my head in agreement. Texas was without a doubt the most gun friendly state I had even been in, that was for sure.

“Your brother teach you?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, dad did. Our house used to be on the outside of town when I was a kid. The city kind of grew around us. But yeah, dad taught me. He taught all of us.”

“Pronto Pups. Holy crap. When was the last time you had a Pronto Pup?” she asked as she pointed to the hot dog stand on our right.

“Easy. Never,” I said.

“You’ve never had a Pronto Pup?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“It’s a banquet on a stick,” she said, quoting from memory what was painted on the wooden sign displayed over the wooden structure.

“Not a part of your diet?” she asked.

I chuckled. “Not exactly.”

“Two Pronto Pups, please,” she said to the attendant.

As he produced the two hot dogs on sticks, I reached for my wallet. She shook her head, reached in her purse, and paid for the hot dogs.

“My treat. Your first, and probably last, Pronto Pup,” she said as she handed me one of the oversized corn dogs.

I held the stick in my hand and stared down at the glob of fried cornmeal batter.

“Mustard. You’ve got to put mustard on it,” she said as she squirted mustard along the length of the dog.

I leaned to the side and did the same. In unison, we bit into our dogs, each widening our eyes toward the other as we attempted to fit the oversized Pup into our mouth. As I continued to eat the World Famous Since 1947 carnival favorite, I was slightly disappointed.

Not in the Pronto Pup – because it was actually quite good – but because I knew that I was adamant in maintaining my diet, and realized this would likely be not only the first time – but the last time – I would ever eat one of the tasty treats. As I finished the snack and stared down at the stick – making sure there was no remaining fried batter to gnaw off – I paused and glanced up at Katie.

With the sides of her mouth covered in mustard and her mouth curled into a smile, she stood and stared at me.

“You’ve got mustard on your mouth,” I said.

“And you’ve got nice teeth,” she said.