Page 29 of Late to Love

He laughs good-naturedly. “Ugh,fine. But you’re going to let me get you a drink, yeah?”

“Sure thing.”

We spend the next hour with the boys, and Amanda flirts her ass off. She has a great time and gets far more drunk than she needs to be so early in the day. I drag her to the ocean for a quick cool-off, and when we’re done, we head back to our own towels and dig into lunch.

After a while, my dad shows up, and so do Agatha and her daughter Betty. Soon after that, Devon trudges through the sand towards us, with Aaron close behind her in navy blue paramedic gear.

I hug Devon, then ask her husband, “You on duty?”

Aaron nods. “Yeah. The beach and booze never go well together. Add in all these people, and something’s bound to happen. But I wanted to come say hi, see how everyone is before getting back to it.” He nods toward the street, and I see the bright red paramedic golf cart, tricked out with wheels for the beach, with another guy sitting in it. He waves, and I wave back.

Devon leans in. “You know, he’s single.”

Aaron laughs. “Don’t try to pimp Sam out. I have a feeling that Darcy would scare him.”

“Why, because he can’t handle a carpenter?” I shoot at him.

“Because he can’t handle someone as self-assured as you,” Aaron corrects. “He’s still young and stupid.”

“He’s the same age as Darcy!” Devon protests.

“Exactly,” Aaron says. “She isn’t interested.”

I hold my hand up for a high-five. “Damn, Aaron, you’re good.”

He winks. “I know a thing or two.” And his expression makes me think he may know way more than I realize.

He gives his wife a kiss and takes off.

“So,” Devon says, her eyes well and truly on Aaron’s ass as he walks away, “are we really going to do this tournament in a few months?”

“It’s four months away. We can totally do it,” I pronounce. “Sure, we need to practice?—”

“We need a miracle,” Agatha interrupts.

“Fine, we might need a miracle. But so what? It’s fun, right?”

“I’m not doing this for bowling glory,” Amanda agrees. “It’s fun. It’d be more fun if guys our age participated, but whatever. I like hanging out once a week.”

“Definitely a highlight,” Devon agrees.

“I’ve had better,” Agatha jokes. “But miracle or not, we’ll do it.”

Dad pops his head into the conversation. “I, for one, think it’s really neat what you girls are doing.”

I chuckle. “Neat?”

His cheeks tinge pink. “Leave me alone, Darcy girl. I said it’s neat—what’s wrong with that?”

“Not a thing,” I say. “In fact, you’re adorable.”

He laughs self-consciously and shoots a sidelong glance at Betty. “Thanks.”

I make myself ignore what that look at Betty might have meant, because that would mean Dad might actually be interested in someone. And while I can’t hold that against him at all, Icantotally ignore it because it’s gross.

I never want to think about my dad even so much as kissing someone. Does that make me a ten-year-old? Probably.

It’s probably five o’clock by the time I realize Amanda is utterly and completely obliterated. We’ve spent hours in the sun, with folks rotating up to grab hot dogs and sodas, and without realizing it, I’ve allowed Amanda to drink all her beverages plus mine. I just wasn’t feeling it today, but clearly, Amanda was.

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