Butterflies in Honey (Growing Pains #3)(52)

“Good thing you weren’t sitting the tank! You’d dye the water black!” She called.

The guy had been taking aim when he looked up in surprise. He looked around, apparently not sure if the manikin had just come to life and started talking. To him!

“Yeah, I’m talking to you, big hitter. C’mon, let’s see what you got, big shot, before your hair fades.”

His team started laughing and Krista’s team looked over. Bob had a big grin on his face. It occurred to Krista she might get in trouble for this. It also occurred to her that she didn’t give a crap. They would have to tread lightly with her in the best of situations because she was the only female in an obviously male-dominated environment. Sexual harassment charges could merely be mentioned and she would tear the place apart. She wouldn’t do that because she had ethics, but they didn’t know that.

The guy took aim again, but Krista could see he was visibly shaken. “Let’s go Vidal Sassoon, I haven’t got all day.”

Without looking up, he threw the ball hurriedly and missed.

Krista breathed a sigh before she said, “Better luck next time.”

The next man up was tall and thin with jeans that barely reached his ankles.

“How’s Sleepy Hollow this time of year, Ichabod?” Krista asked loudly.

The man had a lopsided grin and shook his head. He took aim.

“You expecting a flood, or are ankle-highs the fashion in your neck of the woods?”

He threw and missed, but it was close.

“Phew!” Krista said out loud. “Close. ‘O’ for two. Next up, Ren and Stumpy. C’mon Pigmy, show us what you’ve got!”

The short man took aim quickly and threw. Krista barely got a breath to yell something else when she was falling! She hit the water with a splash and came up sputtering. Their team was cheering and slapping high-fives.

“Good work, short stack,” Krista yelled as she climbed out of the water. She sat with a splat onto the righted plastic seat. She wiped her face with her hands, then wrung out her shirt. The pink bra was finally making an appearance. The region of men in front of her noticed, and were now looking at her with surprise and shock. The tall man pointed.

“What, your wives don’t dress up for you anymore?” Krista asked loudly.

Other groups down the way turned and looked. Sean’s face was tight, his jaw clenched. Everyone else was laughing.

Krista started hearing other dunk-tankers talking smack. It wasn’t long before that was the name of the game. They couldn’t match Krista for reckless crowd pleasing, though. It got to the point that everyone was waiting to hear how she would harass someone before they would throw their own ball into their various lines.

Chapter Fifteen

Sean was one of the men that listened, but he didn’t stop to hear what she had to say, he stopped to hear how she said it. He could tell she was embarrassed and feeling vulnerable. As well she should—she was basically flashing a bunch of guys she was convinced hated her. It was not an optimal situation. But she was making the best of it, and she was slowly but surely winning people over. She was courageous, and everyone saw it whether she wanted them to or not.

He just wished it didn’t have to be this that showed it.

“Sean, you’re up,” Georgie said, tapping his shoulder.

Sean tore his eyes away from Krista, currently picking on an embarrassed Jeff from Texas, and looked ahead of him at Ron from New York, who was smiling back.

“I see you have a woman doing your job for you?” Ron said conversationally.

Ouch.

Sean smiled. “Hard to say no when she gets her temper up.”

“That’s for sure,” Georgie muttered behind Sean.

“You let women push you around?” Ron said with a confident smirk.

“When she outthinks me, every day of the week. But then, unlike you…” Sean wound up, “I’m open-minded.” He threw a bull’s-eyes.

Ron went down with a splash and came up sputtering.

“We’ll see, McAdams,” Ron said, heaving himself onto his seat. “We’ll see if she can keep her head above water.”

Sean clenched his jaw then forced himself to smile. He tilted his head and walked to the back of the line, checking on Krista again. If she could rise above these idiots, she would prove them all wrong and Sean right. Rising above, though, that was the kicker.

~*~*~*~

Krista was dunked time and again, but they missed as often as they hit. Some guys stood nervously in front of her, scared what she would say in front of his peers. They were the ones that often rushed their throws and missed. Some were pissed and trying not to show it. They often missed, too. It was the guys having a good time, probably used to sports and smack talk, that hit her every time. Occasionally, they had back talk, which was actually as funny as it was fun. Most often, she heard that her shirt was drying, so she needed to get swimming. That was all most of them could focus on. Not a real imaginative crew, but then, they were men—they never were imaginative where boobs were concerned.

That was, until Blake came up.

“Hey, Miss Krista,” he called languidly.

“Hey, Blake. You know, I had a pony named Blake once. It was senile. We had to put it down. Your mom a fan of ponies?”

“That’s a pretty bra,” he called, tossing the ball up and catching it in his hand. “I would rather see it on my floor.”