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“Dude, I’m going to rack up more countries than you do. And when I win, it’s you who’ll go speeding down Trapp Street on my handlebars. Buckle up, Delaney. You’re going down.”
He bobbed his head. “That is the sexiest thing you ever said to me. And you’re on.”
I giggled, completely ruining my sexy, badass vibe. That kicked off one of the best dates of my life.
River and I flitted from stall to stall, scarfing down the yummiest food, chatting with people who all knew him by name, and sending our jokes and laughs up to mingle with the joyous sounds of the carnival. It was the opposite of the peaceful, relaxed date on the wharf, but I loved it so much better.
We wandered past dancing couples, smiling at men and women as old as seventy shaking it all, and doing it well.
“We’re sixteen countries up, Kenzie. Ready to admit defeat?”
“Nope.” I rubbed my pleasantly full stomach. “Though, I may revisit a few countries. I need a plate of those conch fritters to go.”
“Got enough room for Jamaica?” River pointed out a booth decorated in yellow, black, and green. “Because you’re about to have the best ackee and saltfish you ever tasted.”
“It’ll be the first ackee and saltfish I ever tasted, so I won’t have a comparison.”
“That’s the spirit.”
I buried my face in his arm laughing. I also did it because he smelled like rain and I wanted any excuse to touch him.
“Evening, Sylvia. Two, please.”
“Three,” replied the stout, middle-aged woman. “You’re a rake with hair, River. We need to fatten you up.” She unsubtly jerked her head at me, loudly whispering, “Who’s this young lady?”
River introduced us, earning me a hug to go with his. Sylvia served me up a colorful bowl of red, yellow, and green food. It was twice the size of the other plates, and one sniff told me I had to eat every bite. Maybe I would lose this challenge.
“Thank you,” I called back as we continued on. I took one bite and moaned. “Oh, wow. I take back what I said. I don’t need to compare to know this is the best.”
“Tell me about it. I lived above her restaurant when I was a kid. She’s been on a mission to plump me up since I was five. Best part is that meant a lot of free meals.”
“Ugh, I’m so jealous. We lived next door to this terrible woman who didn’t bother hiding her crush on my dad. She’d flirt with him right in front of our mom, and bring over these nasty shepherd pies all the time so she could invite herself to dinner and make eyes with my dad.”
“Yikes. Remember the days when awful people tried to hide it?”
My smile faded. “Yes,” I whispered, recalling my father’s handsome, charming face. “I do.”
“I wish I was your neighbor, Kenzie. I would’ve thrown rocks at your window, slipped inside in the middle of the night to whisper secrets under the covers, and make out. Your dad would’ve forbidden you from messing around with the dreaded-up Black boy next door, so at sixteen, we would’ve run away Bonnie and Clyde–style. Tearing up the streets of Cinco.”
My smile came back hard, warming me up. “Not gonna lie, even if I had the picture-perfect childhood, that fantasy sounds so much better.”
“My mom would’ve loved you.”
“She would? Why?”
“You’re strong, brave, funny. You do whatever you want no matter what people think.”
Ducking my head, I said, “That’s a recent personality change.”
“No, Kenzie.” River tipped my chin, squeezing my heart under his wicked grin. “That’s you.”
“You’re so sweet to me, River,” I whispered. “Makes me feel bad that my mom would not like you.”
He started. “Oh, shit. Really? Why?”
“You just admitted you’d have snuck in through my window and had your way with my innocence. Could’ve picked a sweet and wholesome fantasy, but you’re a bad boy, River. Moms are programmed to want you far away from their daughters.”
“I’m a gentleman,” he cried, sounding mortally wounded. “She’s gonna fricking love me.”
“You run a crew of people loosely affiliated with the law. Know what they call that? A criminal organization. Know what they call you? A crime boss. Oh, yeah,” I teased. “She’s going to looove that.”
River turned his nose up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Crime? Since when is it a crime to take from the rich and give to the poor? They tell stories about people like me, Blaine. Write songs. Praise us as heroes.
“Besides, your mom may not like a bad boy, but”—he traced my lips, stopping my breath cold—“that’s not stopping you.”
“I know,” I groaned. “This will not work in my favor when Laurel’s older. I’ve given birth to the most beautiful, perfect person there ever will be. Men will naturally swarm her, and I’ll be the biggest hypocrite when I warn her off the bad ones.”
