“Thanks,” I say, taken aback by the kind offer. “She’d like that.”
But then he ruins the moment by shooting me again and making me laugh so hard I miss my shot when I try to retaliate.
That’s when Eryn calls out to us from across the street.
Wren immediately stops shooting. He doesn’t even point hiswater gun in her direction. But as soon as I lower mine, he takes one last cheap shot at me.
“Gotta stay alert, Tourist Girl,” he says under his breath, grinning as he nods at Eryn.
She takes his hand and holds it before turning to me. “Lili, hi!” She gives me a quick, wet, one-armed hug, and then pulls back, looking sheepish. “Sorry! Elliot was waiting for me earlier like some psycho with a water bucket, so I’m absolutely drenched.”
“I don’t know who Elliot is,” I tell her.
Wren looks at her like he doesn’t know either.
“He’s a new hire at the café that I’ve been training. He’s the one who made those maple bacon sticky buns that I brought for lunch the other day,” she adds, sounding sort of proud. “Anyway, the water fight is already wrapping up—how are you two not soaked yet?”
I got here late, but I’m not nearly as dry as Wren is, and I shoot him a mock glare. “He did his ‘grab a tourist and hide behind them’ thing.”
Eryn looks between us. “His what?”
“You know, where he—”
“Where’s Tate?” Wren interrupts. “I lost him a while back.”
Eryn glances at me again before answering. “I think he’s still off hunting his little brothers on the one day of the year he’s actually allowed to do that. He said he’d meet up with us in front of the museum after. I guess we could head over?”
I take a step back in the opposite direction. “I should probably get going too.”
“Where?” Wren asks quickly enough to surprise me. “Your mom told you to stay out, right? We’re going to get pizza at SteamboatWharf and then Tate knows a spot on the beach that’s not too crowded. You should come.”
Eryn only hesitates for the briefest of moments before chiming in too. “Yeah, come.” She releases Wren’s hand to link her arm through mine. “The pizza isn’t great so the company should be.”
After meeting up with Tate and drying off in the parking lot, we all pile into Wren’s truck. He doesn’t comment when Eryn immediately changes his playlist, maybe because the drive is so short and we’re pulling up in front of the pizza place before the first song is even over.
Steamboat Wharf Pizza is a cute little redwood paneled building near the beach, definitely a grab-and-go kind of place. There aren’t any tables, just a long counter directly inside wide-open double doors, but the air is thick with the mouthwatering scent of garlic and freshly baked dough.
The tourists are everywhere, spilling out from the entrance in long lines, their chatter a mix of excitement and impatience as Eryn and I hop out of Wren’s truck. I catch Wren’s eye for a moment before he settles his attention back to her.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to wait?” he asks, handing her some cash and eyeing the crowd with a small frown.
She leans through the window to give him a quick kiss. “Somebody else will get our spot on the beach if you guys don’t hurry.”
Waving them off, she joins me in line, smiling into the warm breeze until my hair gets whipped directly in her face.
“Are you okay? Oh no, did I get your eye?”
She doesn’t look like she’s in pain exactly, just confused. “I’m fine. Um, your hair smells like strawberries.”
“Really? Still?” I grab a strand to check for myself. “Wow, that’sgood stuff. My mom got me this shampoo and lotion set last Christmas and I’ve been using it since we got here. Nice to know it lasts even through a water-gun fight.”
Eryn’s smile is a little tight.
“Sorry, not a strawberry fan, huh?”
“I am, it’s just... nothing, never mind.” Then much quicker, she says, “It’s just that sometimes Wren smells like that too lately.”
The bottom of my stomach starts to drop out when I think about how closely Wren and I have been working together recently, literally. And if Eryn noticed, does that mean Wren did too?
