Page 40 of Fraud
“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he admitted. “So, I grabbed a little bit of everything.”
“But why so many marshmallows?”
“I didn’t know which ones to use.”
I looked strangely at him, holding back a grin. “Which ones? There’s more than one?”
He grabbed the bag and dumped it out in front of me. Small and large marshmallows, organic and name-brand.
“Wow.”
“I’m from New York,” he explained. “The closest thing to s’mores I got as a kid was an experiment in the toaster oven.”
“You burned the house down, didn’t you?” I joked.
“No—well, almost.” He laughed. “I blamed it on my little brother.”
“That’s terrible.”
“He deserved it. Still does,” he replied. “Do you have any siblings?”
I swallowed audibly. “No,” I answered before quickly moving on, “You do know, there’s a no-fire rule on this beach.”
His eyes grew wide as I held up a bag of marshmallows.
“Shit! Can I interest you in plain marshmallows and wine then?”
My eyes had adjusted to the lack of light now, and even under the moonlight, I could see how gorgeous his smile was, how it gave me hope for more, even when my mind was telling me to run.
“Sounds perfect,” I replied.
He’d thankfully thought of everything, and soon, we not only had marshmallows, but also fresh cheese, juicy, ripe fruit, and a loaf of French bread.
“Sorry about the cold,” he said as I pulled my jacket a bit tighter.
“It’s not that bad.”
“It’d be even warmer if you were closer,” he said.
My belly did a little flip-flop, but I complied, scooting toward his warm body.
“Better?” he asked.
I nodded as the warmth of his body melted into mine. I should have been nervous. After all, I’d only met this man a few days earlier. But, somehow, he made me feel at ease, as if we’d known each other far longer.
It wasn’t usual for me to click so quickly with another person. But, with Killian, it was easy.
“How’s the job hunt going?” I asked as we snacked on cheese, fruit and bread, saving the marshmallows for later.
“It’s slow,” he admitted.
“I can’t believe you moved across the country without a job.”
“Or an apartment,” he added.
“Isn’t that scary?” I asked, unable to imagine myself doing anything remotely similar.
“Yeah, but that’s the fun part—the unknown. In New York, every day was the same. I woke up, went to work, came home. It was easy and safe. But what is the fun in safe?”
