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"Right."
"What I mean is, it’s like a river that looks calm on the surface. So you dive in. But the current is so strong it takes you by surprise. It's so powerful you get overwhelmed by it. All of its rhubarb-y, custard-y power. Sorry if I don't make much sense."
Her grin was wide and gorgeous. "Perfect sense. Ooh, I just had a wicked idea!"
Calm down, Cole. Calm the fuck down.
"Wicked, you say?"
"Well, I also made a batch of Champagne-strawberry cronuts that didn't turn out so well, and I've got half a bottle of bubbly left! Want to split it with me?"
I hesitated. "I don't know . . . I should really get back to work."
"I can't drink it on my own! Think of it as a thank you for being my cronut guinea pig."
"Are you even old enough to be drinking Champagne?"
"Ha. Ha." She rolled her eyes. "Twenty-four, I'll have you know. Firmly in champagne-drinking territory."
I shook my head. "Can't believe you're ten years younger than me."
"Me too." She gave me a sly look. "I had you pegged as being in your early forties."
I winced playfully. "Man, that hurts."
"Not as much as your arthritic joints, right?"
"You better watch it, you young whippersnapper. In my day, youngsters were seen and not heard."
Her laughter was music. "So, am I getting this Champagne or not, gramps?"
When was the last time I'd had Champagne? My wedding, maybe? Stephanie had been fond of the stuff. "You twisted my arm. Fetch the bottle."
"Victory!" She punched the air with glee. "Don't move a muscle."
While she was gone, I couldn’t help but think about free will. Something deep within me was urging me, compelling me, to stay with her. Like I didn’t have a choice.
She returned with Champagne but without the apron, a vision in sinfully snug jeans and a pale pink tank that offered a tantalizing peek of her white bra strap. Hair still piled high, eyes still dancing. Good enough to eat.
"Okay, so it's a smidge more than half a bottle . . ."
I grabbed a couple of tumblers. "No flutes, I'm afraid."
"I was just gonna swig it from the bottle."
I arched an eyebrow.
"Kidding!"
Elara poured us both a generous measure and locked eyes with me. "Here's to Bluehaven Beach.”
"And to getting you away from here as soon as possible."
We laughed, clinked, sipped.
"Mmm, even better than the cronuts," she sighed contentedly.
A comfortable silence settled as we sat, Elara's gaze drifting to my trailer. Finally, she said, “You've got a happy home here."
