The couples said their goodbyes and headed off to their tasks. Taryn turned to Kincaid to see what she needed her to do first, but before she could get a word out, Kincaid shrieked and clutched her hands to her chest.
The noise startled Taryn and made her jump. “What the hell?”
“Christmas on a cracker. What the hell is right,” Kincaid said, staring at something behind Taryn.
Taryn turned, but Kincaid was already stalking forward in the direction of a very tall, very brightly colored clown. Oh crap. She’d known Kincaid long enough to know what was about to happen. Taryn hurried behind her, ready to intercept, but Kincaid was already talking.
“Excuse me. Excuse me, you with the red nose!” Kincaid said, snapping her fingers.
The unsuspecting clown turned her way, putting a hand to his chest and blinking in confusion. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Kincaid stopped in front of him, half a foot shorter, but miles taller in attitude. “I’m sorry, but in what universe would you consider this a non-scary costume? The instructions were clear.”
The clown shrank back. “I’m a circ
us clown,” he said, lifting his big glove-covered hands. “Kids like the circus.”
“No-o,” Kincaid said, dragging out the word into two syllables. “Kids tolerate the scary-ass clowns at the circus to see the cute animals and eat cotton candy. Have you never seen It? Or Poltergeist? Or The Strangers?”
“Well, technically, The Strangers didn’t have cl—” Taryn started.
“Clowns are super high on the scary meter,” Kincaid went on. “They’re like right below the porcelain dolls they sell on home shopping channels.”
“Porcelain—” the guy said in bewilderment.
Kincaid lifted a palm, an angry unicorn stomping her hooves. “We appreciate you participating in this charity run, but for the love of all that is good and holy, please go to the costume tent and choose a different costume or get some flags and be a runner.”
The clown looked down at his floppy shoes. “Okay. I’m real sorry, ma’am.”
Taryn winced and stepped forward. “Sir, we really are happy you’re participating. I’m sorry for the confusion. Next time we’ll be more clear on which costumes could be triggers.”
Kincaid gave her a look and a little eye roll that the clown couldn’t see. The clown gave Taryn a small smile, which did end up looking kind of creepy, and then loped off toward the costume tent. Kincaid huffed. “See? I told you. Can you believe some people? I mean, clearly that was the most terrifying costume ever made. How can people not realize that?”
Taryn bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “Porcelain dolls on home shopping channels?”
They were walking toward the vendor area now, and Kincaid gave her a look that seemed to say obviously. “Unblinking eyes are freaky. I’m sorry. My grandmother used to have a whole curio case of the little demons. I think they steal the souls of the dead and trap them in there.”
“Of course you do.”
“What?” Kincaid asked, glancing her way. “What is that tone?”
“Nothing. You’re my favorite friend,” Taryn said solemnly.
Kincaid groaned and shoved her in the shoulder. “Hush, sleepy professor. Let’s go get you another coffee, and then we’ll go make nice with the vendors. I have a surprise for you.”
“I hate surprises.”
“You’ll like this one.”
A little while later, Taryn followed behind Kincaid, her friend’s unicorn tail swishing with purpose and her smile bright as she greeted the different vendors. Taryn sipped her coffee and joined in the conversation when needed, but since Kincaid was much better at chitchat and schmoozing than Taryn could ever hope to be, she let her friend do her thing. But when they moved toward the vendor on the far end of the row, Kincaid sent Taryn a conspiratorial look over her shoulder. “You’ll like this next one.”
Taryn tossed her cup in a nearby trash can and lifted her brows. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll see.” Kincaid smiled and cocked her head for Taryn to follow her.
When they reached the end of the row, two guys were sitting behind a fold-out table draped with a banner, but Taryn couldn’t tell what they were advertising because her attention was stuck on the men: a cute guy in a fedora dressed as Indiana Jones and a broad-shouldered blond with aviator sunglasses and a flight suit—Iceman from Top Gun.
Well, hello.