“You should stop by.”
I jumped at Lou’s voice behind me. He and his wife had made it a point to check on me each time they bumped into me today.Was I okay? Did I need anything? After the fight I’d had with Trent, kindness and consideration from strangers was a balm to the cracks in my self-esteem.
Like last night.
Giving Joe the brush-off was the right thing to do, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so difficult to walk away from him. My head was still all kinds of fucked up from Trent, even before our last shitty conversation. As incredible as last night had been, I couldn’t take it any further with Joe. I hated myself and my rotten conscience all day, especially after spotting the disappointment in his eyes this morning.
What did I expect? Or what did either of us expect, for that matter? We were two strangers who had amazing sex and nothing more—no matter how much itseemedlike more. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d think I missed him today. How do you miss someone you hardly know? You didn’t—not really.
“The festival. Ocean Cove’s first big event of the summer.” Lou pointed across the street to the bustle of activity just behind The Beach Pub.
“I heard about that today.” I took a second look at the flyer. “It’s mostly food, right? No scary rides?”
“A few,” he answered with a shrug. “My wife would never let our kids on one. She said if they put it together overnight, there was no way it could be safe.”
“Your wife would get along very well with my mother. What else do they have? Typical fair junk food?” I prayed for Zeppoles, the deep-fried balls of dough smothered in powdered sugar that lured me to every local street feast. They probably called them something different here or made them into funnel cakes, which wasn’t the same at all, but I’d take it. I was either eating or drinking my feelings tonight, and how much comfort could a light beer from the hotel offer? If I wanted anything harder, I’d have to go visit The Beach Pub and see Joe. The temptation to ask him for more than only a drink would be too great.
“The restaurants and some of the bakeries from the area have booths. It’s a good way to get to know what’s around town, and it’s only two streets away.” He nodded behind me with his chin.
“That actually sounds perfect. Thanks, Lou!”
He waved me off, and I headed down toward the lighted tents now coming into distant view.
I usually felt anxious about large crowds, but going alone and not worrying about separating from anyone was oddly liberating. I wouldn’t stay very long, just enough to fill my belly then head back to the hotel.
All the different smells made my mouth water. I spotted pizza, burgers, fresh donuts, and cupcakes on the first line of tents. The festival stretched out almost the entire length of the beach and already beat any local street feast back in Brooklyn.
“I think the second tent on the right hasmutzadellesticks.”
Startled by the familiar deep timbre in my ear, I jumped and craned my head. My gaze met Joe’s, and it was awkward how itwasn’tawkward at all to see him again. His presence excited me as much as it soothed me, just like when I met him last night. He wore khaki shorts and a black T-shirt, with The Beach Pub embroidered on the front pocket. He never mentioned he’d be here, but of course, he would be. He was as much of a town staple as his restaurant was. I’d figured that out right away. What would it be like to be that purely happy with what you did for a living and where you lived?
Not that I hated Brooklyn, but it was all I’d ever known. And I did love my job.
At the expense of everyone else.
Shaking off the nasty sting of Trent’s taunt in my head, I turned my focus back to Joe. Gorgeous, nice, too-good-for-my-baggage Joe. His shirt stretched across his torso, triggering a shiver at the memory of what he looked like without it … or pants.
I raked my hands through my hair and shut my eyes. Infatuation and need for affection was what this was, all made that much worse, not having to wonder what Joe’s affection felt like—whathefelt like. Like he’d said, this was a small town, and I’d no doubt run into him a few times during my week here, so I needed to learn how to have a nice,platonic, conversation that wouldn’t lead to me pulling him into my hotel room again.
“There’s way too much here. I have no idea where to start.” While my gaze kept shifting around to the action around us, his never wavered and stayed fixed on me. “What’s at your booth?”
“Simple stuff. Sliders on the grill and some ears of corn. Dominic loves this and insists on running our tent himself. I’m just the eye candy.” He winked before offering me the crook of his arm. “Come with me. I’ll show you the good stuff. Friends can show friends around a new place, right? No strings?”
The right thing to do would’ve been to say, “no, thanks,” but I nodded and linked my arm with his. What harm would it do? While I had come here alone to process all the shit in my life, I supposed being alone today wouldn’t be healthy. I enjoyed being around Joe, he seemed to want to be around me, why overthink? Keeping hold of him as he led me through the crowd, I was struck again with how natural being with Joe seemed. If I had to, I’d draw another line in the sand. Right now, I went along with what felt good, regardless of if it should or not.
* * *
“This isthe best sangria I ever had!” I gushed as I drained my third cup. I tried to pace myself since I hadn’t had much to eat today aside from all the samples Joe and I had been gathering as we walked the length of the festival. But it was hot, and I was parched. It wasn’t the amount of alcohol I was consuming going straight to my head, it was how fast I was inhaling it.
Joe pulled the cup down from my lips. “Emily soaks the fruit in booze before she mixes it in. Slow down, beautiful.” He tapped my chin to make me look up. Maybe I wasn’t drunk, but alcohol warmed my belly enough to melt away any denial or pretense. Why had I thought Joe and I were a bad idea? Because I’d only just met him? That it was too soon after a break up? I broke our gaze again, wobbling as I tried to hold on to my resolve.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his hand moving to the damp nape of my neck. I zeroed in on his lips, wanting to taste them so badly. My body moved closer, almost powerless against the pull before I stepped back and almost tripped.
“No!” I answered too loudly to be convincing. “I’m having fun. With you. Well, maybe not as much fun as last night, but this festival is cool.” I ignored the loud voice in my head yelling at me to close my damn mouth before I humiliated myself even more, but I kept going. “At least I had fun, did you have fun, Joe?” My question came out so pathetic and hopeful, like if a begging puppy could speak.
His eyes thinned to slits as he scrutinized my sloppy movements. He opened his mouth to say something before glancing over my shoulder to wave at someone.
“Excuse me, I need to say a quick hello to one of our vendors. Don’t go in for another refill until I get back.” He looped an arm around my waist and pulled me close, and I again resented my body’s reaction at the spark from his touch. “Yes. I had fun. Alotof fun. Don’t move, okay?”
