“What about your parents?” I question him, “What do they do. Your mom seems really sweet.”
His grin is asymmetric and that’s when our hands brush for just a moment. Ripping my gaze away so he doesn’t see my blush get even hotter, I wait for him to answer. “Dad’s a pilot. Ma’s a homemaker. And you’ve met one of my sisters.”
“That I have.” I can feel my eyebrows raise up, remembering Ali. “I still have to message her,” I admit to him. He only laughs and tells me he’ll give me her number. I move the cold coffee cup to my other hand, wiping the water off on my jacket before taking another sip.
“What’s Ali do?”
“She’s a nurse. Just graduated two years ago.”
I turn to look at him as we walk to the top of the hill and pause there, “And your other sister?”
“Cheryl’s a homemaker, like my ma. She has a fancy English degree, and she’ll probably go back to teaching at some point. She loves kids.”
“Kids,” I repeat the word, feeling a low tension roll over me.
“They have a baby now, so she’s adjusting to being at home and all that.”
The mention of a baby makes my heart flip. My lips part to ask him more about his sister, but my eyes catch sight of exactly what I want right now.
On cue, my stomach grumbles with hunger, “Want one?” I question
“The pickle on a stick or the waffle fries?” he questions, grinning from ear to ear.
Shrugging I answer, “Either or both.” Fried food and big pickles on a stick are exactly what I think of when I think festival. That and funnel cake of course.
“Well what are you getting?” He asks me and I answer, “The doughnuts. They are fried heaven with powdered sugar.” My stomach grumbles again as the smell gets stronger and the line we’re standing in gets shorter.
Charlie takes his time, eyeing the menu written out on the board to the right of the stand. “It’s kind of like funnel cake, but in ball form.” I whisper getting closer to him, as if it’s some big secret I’m confessing.
“I guess I’ll take one and I want the whipped cream too.”
I order easy enough and reach into my clutch, ready to pay since I offered. Charlie beats me to it though.
“Hey,” I protest watching him hand over the cash. “It was my treat,” my tone is wounded.
“Nonsense,” he answers, taking the change and then both of our paper boats of dusted donuts. “It’s my date,” he nods and passes me the fried deliciousness I’ve been craving.
“Well thank you.”
It’s obvious by the way his lips part that he was going to say something, but a bit of cream slipped off the top of a hot donut and hits his wrist.
I must be crazy, because Charlie licking off that dollop of whipped cream turns up the temperature around me to about a thousand. A second passes as we step out of line.
My body heats, igniting with desire as I bite my lip, and see his gaze drop to my lips. I suddenly realize that I want him to kiss me. No,needhim to kiss me.
I lean in just a fraction, rising on my tiptoes to kiss him and close my eyes, his lips mold against mine. The touch is electric, filling my whole body with a restless energy. The kiss is slow, not pushing for anything more, but that just makes it all the sweeter.
When we pull away, my whole body is covered with goosebumps, my breathing labored.
What really gets my heart racing, though, is the fact that the same expression is on his face. Our eyes meet, and it’s so intense that I wimp out.
I look away and laugh, and the tension breaks.
“Is that how you say thank you for donuts all the time?” he asks mildly. “I could add these to the menu.”
Another laugh leaves me at his joke. “Maybe,” I say with a shrug.
Silence stretches, but it’s easy. Everything suddenly feels easy and like it’s supposed to be this way.
