Page 11 of Holidate Fail
“Nice. What else is on there?” Kelly asked. Back to business. He fished around in the console of his SUV to look for his phone charger so he could snap more pics.
“Okay, you all ready?” Lacole asked. At their nods, she continued. “After the C A water is this: 1 C sss. 2 C kkk. 3 C shh. Don’t wipe breathe uranium titanium.”
“Weird,” Kelly said. Shit, the charger wasn’t there. Part of their revitalized marketing plan for Georgia Adventures rested on the sponsorship of the race and its promo opportunities, and he couldn’t even remember to get his damn charger back from his last date. “Can I see the clue?”
Lacole handed him the paper.
“C is calcium, right?” Kelly asked. “What’s A?”
“C is carbon, and there is no A by itself,” Dahlia answered. “But Ca is calcium. Calcium water?”
The engagement in her voice turned her normal tone into a melody. In high school, she had spoken in staccato tones, looking around like she was surveying her surroundings for dangers, unless she had been discussing her latest read or helping him and Wayne with math homework. But now, regular conversation was a sweet sound.
Wait. Hold up.
Her voice was a fucking melody?
What the hell did that even mean?
“Milk water? Good for your bones water?” Heath said. “And what’s with all the numbered Cs?”
The four of them started thinking out loud, making sssss and kkkkk noises while throwing out ideas on the water type. Kelly handed the clue to Heath, who glanced at it and handed it to Dahlia.
“Oh,” she said. All talking ceased, and she looked up from the paper. She wet her lips.
This was not the time to think about following her tongue with his, no matter how sexy Kelly found even that small gesture, an intriguing contrast to the braids and everyday jeans and her shy nerdiness. He gave himself a mental smack and focused on what she was saying instead of diving into fantasy. She’d never see him as anything except Wayne’s best friend.
“It’s capital C capital A. Calcium would be capital C little A.”
“So, like California?” Kelly asked.
“Yes.” Dahlia pointed to him, eyebrows raised, and he felt like he won a prize. “California water. The Pacific Ocean. The Cs in Pacific Ocean are all pronounced like the ones in the puzzle.”
Heath tried out the sounds. “You’re right! So the second part. Don’t wipe breath uranium and titanium?”
“Maybe it spells something?” Kelly said.
“Don’t wipe butt?” Heath asked. “I don’t think so.”
“No, no, maybe” Dahlia said. “If we were meant to think CA stood for calcium, and then using dihydrogen monoxide, maybe we need to take the first letters from the elements,” Dahlia said. “So, don’t wipe… something … U T.”
“Wipeout.” Heath snapped his fingers and put the SUV in drive. “The breathe is for oxygen. O. Don’t wipeout. There’s a surf shop with a California theme that I pass on the way to work.”
“Let’s go!” Dahlia said.
Kelly glanced at her through the rear-view mirror. They made a pretty good team. The four of them. He winced, remembering all the times he and Wayne had teased her about how bookish she was. That brain of hers was coming in handy now.
“Do you surf, Kelly?” Lacole asked.
Ah, dammit. He shouldn’t be thinking of Dahlia when he had his own date. “Tried it. It was fun, but getting good required time I didn’t have.”
“I used to, when I was in high school,” Heath said.
Heath and Lacole exchanged surf stories until they arrived at the shop. He hopped out of the car.
“Hey, look.” Heath pointed. A historical marker stood outside, engraved with a story on how there used to be a house of ill-repute there. The proprietress helped rum runners hide from the agents and took a cut of the booze as payment.
“Neat. Though I’d rather get paid in money.” Heath made a beeline into the shop.
