“The dolphins are in the ocean,” I say patiently. “They don’t have a designated area. They’re wild animals.”
“But I heard there were dolphins here.”
“There are dolphins in the Atlantic Ocean, yes. Sometimes they swim past. It’s not a scheduled event.”
The tourist looks disappointed and wanders off, presumably to find someone who can provide a dolphin itinerary.
Scott stares after them. “Does this happen often?”
“You have no idea. Last week someone asked me where the beach bathroom was while standing directly in front of a sign that said ‘Beach Bathroom’ with an arrow pointing at the bathroom.”
“I’m stressed on your behalf.”
“This is why I bring grapes. Stress eating.”
A gust of wind catches our umbrella.
The ancient warrior tilts dramatically, caught by the breeze, and before either of us can react, it collapses directly onto us.
Faded canvas and metal poles are everywhere. Scott makes a noise of surprise. I’m tangled in the fabric, my book somewhere in the chaos.
“Are you okay?” His voice is muffled, close.
“I’m fine. Just—hold on?—”
We’re somehow both trapped under the collapsed umbrella, pressed together in a ridiculous tent of faded stripes. I can see his face inches from mine, all concern and barely suppressed laughter.
“This is absurd,” I say.
“Completely absurd.”
“We should untangle ourselves.”
“We should.”
Neither of us moves.
His eyes are very gray this close, the color of the ocean before a storm or the sky at dusk.
“Jessica,” he says again, softer this time.
And then he kisses me.
Or I kiss him.
Or we both just stop fighting the inevitable and meet in the middle.
It’s not a careful kiss. Not tentative. It’s the kind of kiss that happens when two people have been circling each other for months and finally stop pretending they don’t want exactly this.
His hand comes up to cup my face, gentle despite everything. I grab the front of his ridiculous button-down shirt and pull him closer, and the umbrella collapses farther around us, and I absolutely do not care.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“That was—” he starts.
“Yeah.”
“We should?—”
