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“Gladly,” she said, then stood abruptly and walked off.
I watched her walk around and talk to a few kids, then bring three of them over.
“They’re going to judge,” Zoey said as she took the bag from my hand. “We’ll both roast three marshmallows each, and they will decide whose is the best.”
“No contest,” I replied as I stood, then thrust the chocolate and graham crackers at Reardon and said, “Hold this.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” was his sarcastic reply, but I ignored him and went to get two skewers from the refreshment table.
When I got back, I handed one to Zoey, then took a marshmallow out of the bag she held open for me.
We roasted our marshmallows and gave them to the judges, who’d obviously forgotten whose camp they were attending, since they unanimously picked Zoey’s lightly toasted marshmallows for the win.
“You cheated,” I accused when Zoey thrust her arms up in victory.
“Did not,” she replied haughtily, moving those hands to her hips.
“You probably offered them signed books or something.”
“Nobody likes a sore loser.”
Now her hip was cocked, and our judges were snickering.
“I’m not a sore loser, you’re a mean winner.”
Zoey looked at me for a minute, then threw her head back and started laughing.
“You’re a nut,” she said, then moved in to put her arms around my waist and rest her head on my chest.
> “Thanks, guys,” I said to our judges.
As they walked away I placed my lips on Zoey’s head and kissed her briefly.
“You’re a nut,” I said, mimicking her words.
“I guess that means we belong together,” she said softly, tilting her head back to look up at me.
“I guess so,” I replied softly.
1
Chapter Twenty-Eight ~ Zoey
Gabe’s perception of my fears, and absolute ability to put me at ease, had me thinking that he was definitely not real. No one could be that perfect, or rather, that perfect for me.
He must have a weird tick I hadn’t noticed yet.
Or the inability to appreciate eighties music.
Maybe he hated puppies and kittens.
Or thought Eminem was overrated.
I didn’t know what his flaw was yet, but it was bound to come out sooner or later.
I just hoped it was something I could live with. A weird tick would be okay, all of the others would be deal breakers.
I’d spent the morning catching up on emails and social media, working on edits from my publisher, and even got a chapter in on my indulgent work in progress.
