Page 51 of Summer Romance

“I know, not exactly a spa day. But it was fun.” I busy myself with straightening Theo’s sock because I don’t want to look at her.

“Careful with that.”

“With what?”

“You know with what.” She motions to Ethan with her eyes. “As much as it creeps me out, it’s clear there’s something brewing. Marco thinks it’s already happened.”

“Oh my God, stop.”

“Okay, okay.”

Ethan looks over his shoulder at me. He’s still talking to Marco but it’s like he’s tracking me with his eyes. “He’s a very good guy,” I say.

“He can be,” she says. “But he’ll never ever leave Devon.”

“Of course,” I say, and my voice is too high. Mercifully, Theo wakes up and starts to cry.

Ethan calls over to Frannie, “Can you get me some tinfoil?”

“I’ll get it,” I say, and hand the baby to Frannie. The kitchen has been redone to look like it could be original, ifpeople had huge marble-topped islands and walk-in pantries a hundred years ago. The door to the pantry is open. It’s the size of a small closet with shelves painted a high-gloss royal blue. I decide we’ll start here tomorrow. Things are placed on the shelves randomly, and I move the oatmeal so it’s next to the Bisquick. Then I line up a box of Cheerios next to it, along with a glass jar of granola. This feels like a breakfast section now, but I want to move it all to the left so that it’s the first thing you see when you walk in. I like a pantry that moves with the day. In the middle should be peanut butter and jelly, maybe cans of tuna fish.

“What are you doing?” Ethan is right behind me.

I turn around, and the sight of him with that pink flower behind his ear makes me smile. “I couldn’t help myself. Can we start here tomorrow?”

“Sure,” he says, and takes a step closer to me. He takes the flower from behind my ear and moves my hair behind my shoulders. He places it behind my other ear. “Perfect.”

I can’t look away from him as he leans down to where his lips are nearly touching mine. “This is so complicated,” I whisper.

“I’m terrified of it,” he says, and kisses just my lower lip.

I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back. “I want this,” I say. “For the record, in the light of day. I’m not going to regret it.” He kicks the pantry door shut and his mouth completely takes me in. His hands are on my hips pulling me toward him, and I am in a state of wanting that alarms me.

From a million miles away, I hear Frannie’s voice. “Scooter?”

Ethan groans. “I forgot where we were.”

I kiss him again because I can’t not kiss him again. I’ve been kissing him for weeks, but it’s different now, soaked in meaning and intent. “Okay, go.”

“In here,” he says, and opens the door. “Where does Mom keep the tinfoil anyway?”

Frannie’s standing there, hands on hips, staring at us. “Knew it.” She reaches past us, and I avoid her eyes as she grabs the tinfoil off the shelf and leaves.

“Sorry about that,” Ethan says. “I mean I’m not. I’m actually really happy.” He runs his fingers through his hair, like that’s going to smooth out his thoughts.

“We should get back, you go first,” I say.

“Okay,” he says, but doesn’t go.

“Go,” I say. I give his chest a push, and he catches my hand and holds it there.

“We’ll start in the pantry tomorrow,” he says.

28

“Stop it, that’s so gross,” Greer is saying on the drive home. This is really happening between Ethan and me.

“Mom, make him stop,” Iris says. Cliffy laughs. The taste of Ethan is narcotic, and I wonder if that’s a thing, if people actually get hooked on another person.

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