Page 36 of Worth the Trip

Then I looked down.

A half-unwrapped Hershey bar with almonds lay beside my empty cup.

The man looked at the tea spreading across his shirt, then at the ruined chocolate.

When his eyes lifted to mine, recognition arrived first.

The stranger from the fishing table.

Up close, the rest of him became considerably harder to dismiss as casual observation. Sunlight deepened the warm brown of his skin, and a neatly shaped beard framed features already carrying amusement. His locs were neatly swept into a ponytail. The peach tea had soaked through his shirt thoroughly enough to provide information I had neither requested nor managed to ignore.

My eyes betrayed me.

Briefly.

Unfortunately, he caught that too.

“Well, you managed to ruin my shirt and my chocolate in one move. That’s impressive.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do either one.”

“I figured. Most women introduce themselves before committing beverage-related violence.”

“I backed into you. That hardly qualifies as violence.”

“That sounded suspiciously close to a confession.”

“It was an explanation.”

“Mmm-hmm. And I respect how fast the defense got organized.”

My laugh escaped me.

His expression said he’d been hoping for exactly that.

My fingers found the pendant again.

His attention dropped toward my hand.

“You good, Hershey?”

I stared at him. “What’d you call me?”

“Hershey.”

“That is not my name.”

“I know.”

“You don’t know my name.”

He nodded once. “Valid point.”

“Then why are you naming me?”

He glanced toward the ruined chocolate beside my sandal. “Context clues.”

I almost laughed again. “It should’ve stayed in your head.”