And apparently… I can’t seem to get enough.
14
Nate
We get back in the buggy and head toward the rental location, passing once more through the palm tree forest. The scent of salt water clings to our clothes and settles into the air between us, like the ocean has decided to come along for the rest of the afternoon.
Once we arrive, I drop off the keys, grab our things, and we head out.
“So, where are we off to now?” Lizzie asks.
“We’re going down to the main street to take a walk before dinner. There’s a market I thought you might want to see,” I say, glancing over to gauge her reaction.
“I guess I’m an open book. I love markets.” She looks up at me, eyes slightly hooded from the sun, and I have to physically stop myself from pulling her closer. Her smile is wide, like she’s happy I knew the market was something she might enjoy.
“Enough to keep me turning the page.” I look over at her, a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.
The chemistry between us is… noticeable. Stronger than anything I’ve experienced in this short span of time. By all normal standards, it probably doesn’t make sense. But there’s something about her. Joyful, yes—but grounded. Intentional.
And the fact that she’s here with me today tells me she feels at least some version of it too.
I lead her onto the main street, and we begin walking toward the market.
She gasps. “Look at the chicken phone booth! And all the chicken statues everywhere!”
I laugh. “It’s pretty neat, isn’t it?”
Color spills across the entire street. Umbrellas are strung overhead in long rows, casting soft shifting shadows over the pavement. Palm trees line both sides, their leaves swaying lazily in the warm breeze. Bright storefronts sit shoulder to shoulder, their doors open wide, beckoning people in.
There are artistic chicken statues everywhere—painted and sculpted. A colorful café sits on the corner, simple painted chairs scattered outside, bougainvillea curling around the doorway in bright pink bursts. Phone booths shaped like chickens, another shaped like a coconut. Small pastel signs point toward different cities as if the whole street is inviting you to get lost on purpose.
The lampposts are even bright blue.
It’s vibrant, chaotic, cheerful. A feast for the eyes under sunlight that’s slowly beginning to turn gold.
I glance over at Lizzie. She’s grinning like she’s ten years old at an amusement park.
As we continue walking, she slows. “Is it okay if we pop into this store?”
“Whatever you like. I wanted you to be able to see everything.”
“I just spotted some trinkets… and Ilovetrinkets.” Her smile widens in a way that makes it very clear this is one of her favorite things.
We step inside, and the store is packed wall-to-wall with chickens. Wooden chickens, clay chickens, coconut chickens. Chickens on keychains, chickens on plates, chickens on bowls. I turn slightly and find a Wonder Woman chicken staring back at me with wide blue eyes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many chicken-shaped things in my life,” Lizzie says, laughing softly.
“They’ve definitely committed to the theme,” I reply, scanning the shelves.
She leans in closer and whispers, “The real question is… how did we ever live without anything chicken-shaped in our lives?”
I nod solemnly, as if she’s raised a deeply philosophical issue. “Honestly, I don’t know how we managed.”
She chuckles and moves further along the display, examining everything with careful delight.
She spots a display of coconut earrings and moves toward it.
“Wow, these are so unique,” she says, picking up a pair shaped like starfish, turning them slightly so the light hits the etched texture.
