steps, we filed down the sidewalk shoulder to shoulder, practically at a run. I didn’t care where we were going, as long as it was away from there . After about a minute, Todd shot me a glance. I lifted one shoulder in reply. He suddenly stopped walking, doubled over, and commenced to howl a laugh so loud it was like he’d been suppressing it for hours.
I stood beside him, arms folded. “Some nerve,” I observed.
This made him laugh harder.
My own lips started twitching, fighting back a building smile, as I watched him losing it in the middle of the footpath. “I’m so glad my public humiliation made your day.” My attempt at a sarcastic sulk was pitiful; I was about to lose it myself.
“That might’ve been the funniest thing . . . I have ever seen.” He panted. “Looked like Bob was about to blow a gasket. That bawling kid, his mom glaring curses at you, and you crouched there . . . that panicked expression on . . .” He cackled again.
“Well, I . . .” But it was only a matter of seconds before I grabbed my stomach and squatted in the middle of the sidewalk, letting loose my own hysteria. We remained there, laughing and trying to speak for what felt like hours, until, through my tearing eyes, I saw Todd finally straighten.
“As your liberator,” he said, slightly calmer, “I insist you tell me exactly what just happened.”
I pushed my hair back and opened my mouth.
“And . . .” he added before I got the chance to dodge the question, “don’t even think of leaving out a single gruesome detail, or . . .” When he laid one hand on my shoulder, I forgot about pretending to be aloof. “Or I’ll throw you back to the sharks without a thought.” He grinned, showing straight, white teeth.
That’s when I noticed the dimple on his left cheek. It was all I could think about while I begrudgingly conveyed the last ten minutes of my life as we started down the sidewalk. “So,” I said when I’d finished, attempting to talk about something besides his dimple, “were you at Modica to save the day or to pick up some red currant jam? Let me save you a trip back—they’re out.”
“I caught that much.” He extended his arm in front of me, forcing us to stop at a crosswalk. “Actually, Chandler’s on duty the rest of the day. I stopped in because I promised him lunch.” He shot a quick glance in my direction. “But I think that can wait for now.” He lifted one hand to shade his eyes from the sun as he scanned both ways for traffic.
“Who’s Chandler?”
“One of the local kids who helps out at the store.” He touched my elbow, leading us into the crosswalk. “Fearless kayaker. Since he turned eighteen last month, I let him lead all the tours.”
“You kayak, too?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered in a phony southern drawl, “but he’s not hitting the water today. I’m forcing him to stay indoors, while also making sure he works extra shifts to earn college tuition.” There was that dimple again. “He’s a great kid. I really should grab him lunch.” He gave me a look. “Think you could sneak back and snag a pastrami on rye?”
“I only steal jam from children. I thought that was clear.”
Todd turned his head to laugh.
Not until the bottoms of my sandals were filled with sand did I notice how far we’d walked. “Where are we?” I stopped in my tracks. “My sister’s bike. I left it in front of the market.” I made an automatic about-face to retrace our steps, but Todd didn’t follow.
When I turned back, he was still standing in place, his hands on his hips. His blue T-shirt sleeves were taut around his well-defined arms, and I could tell, even through his shirt, that his chest and abs were just as toned. I wondered if he was one of those guys who obsessively pumped iron, or if he was naturally built lean and mean like a professional soccer player.
“If you’re heading back to the Square,” he finally said conversationally, “I’ll go with you and grab
I stood beside him, arms folded. “Some nerve,” I observed.
This made him laugh harder.
My own lips started twitching, fighting back a building smile, as I watched him losing it in the middle of the footpath. “I’m so glad my public humiliation made your day.” My attempt at a sarcastic sulk was pitiful; I was about to lose it myself.
“That might’ve been the funniest thing . . . I have ever seen.” He panted. “Looked like Bob was about to blow a gasket. That bawling kid, his mom glaring curses at you, and you crouched there . . . that panicked expression on . . .” He cackled again.
“Well, I . . .” But it was only a matter of seconds before I grabbed my stomach and squatted in the middle of the sidewalk, letting loose my own hysteria. We remained there, laughing and trying to speak for what felt like hours, until, through my tearing eyes, I saw Todd finally straighten.
“As your liberator,” he said, slightly calmer, “I insist you tell me exactly what just happened.”
I pushed my hair back and opened my mouth.
“And . . .” he added before I got the chance to dodge the question, “don’t even think of leaving out a single gruesome detail, or . . .” When he laid one hand on my shoulder, I forgot about pretending to be aloof. “Or I’ll throw you back to the sharks without a thought.” He grinned, showing straight, white teeth.
That’s when I noticed the dimple on his left cheek. It was all I could think about while I begrudgingly conveyed the last ten minutes of my life as we started down the sidewalk. “So,” I said when I’d finished, attempting to talk about something besides his dimple, “were you at Modica to save the day or to pick up some red currant jam? Let me save you a trip back—they’re out.”
“I caught that much.” He extended his arm in front of me, forcing us to stop at a crosswalk. “Actually, Chandler’s on duty the rest of the day. I stopped in because I promised him lunch.” He shot a quick glance in my direction. “But I think that can wait for now.” He lifted one hand to shade his eyes from the sun as he scanned both ways for traffic.
“Who’s Chandler?”
“One of the local kids who helps out at the store.” He touched my elbow, leading us into the crosswalk. “Fearless kayaker. Since he turned eighteen last month, I let him lead all the tours.”
“You kayak, too?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered in a phony southern drawl, “but he’s not hitting the water today. I’m forcing him to stay indoors, while also making sure he works extra shifts to earn college tuition.” There was that dimple again. “He’s a great kid. I really should grab him lunch.” He gave me a look. “Think you could sneak back and snag a pastrami on rye?”
“I only steal jam from children. I thought that was clear.”
Todd turned his head to laugh.
Not until the bottoms of my sandals were filled with sand did I notice how far we’d walked. “Where are we?” I stopped in my tracks. “My sister’s bike. I left it in front of the market.” I made an automatic about-face to retrace our steps, but Todd didn’t follow.
When I turned back, he was still standing in place, his hands on his hips. His blue T-shirt sleeves were taut around his well-defined arms, and I could tell, even through his shirt, that his chest and abs were just as toned. I wondered if he was one of those guys who obsessively pumped iron, or if he was naturally built lean and mean like a professional soccer player.
“If you’re heading back to the Square,” he finally said conversationally, “I’ll go with you and grab
Similar Books
