He leaned down, his lips finding hers in a soft, sweet kiss. “Want to start at the end? How are you feeling?”
Her butt and lower back hurt, but she was too excited to care. “I feel wonderful. The bike ride was good but this is better.”
His hand slid down her back, then he laced his fingers with hers. “Did you enjoy the ride at all?”
“Of course.” They walked toward the row of shops.
“Was it better when your feet were up?”
Presley stopped, looked at him.
He arched his brows and she felt her cheeks warm.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She could get drunk on his laughter. It lit up his whole face. “Mm-hmm.”
“That’s my story.” She pulled him forward.
The smell of fish and chips made her forget they’d eaten not too long ago, but she pushed off the feeling. Shops first, more food later. Presley found an ornate bracelet for Rylee at one of the end shops. It was aptly named: This and That. She also found a little something for Ollie and Jill in that store. They tried samples of homemade candy at Sugar Rush, bought postcards at a stationery shop called The Write Place, and stopped at Waterfront, a tiny bistro with only six tables, to share a flight of locally brewed craft beers. They strolled by the water, and part of Presley wished they had their suits. She wasn’t much of a swimmer, but the day was growing warm.
She was thinking about trying the fish and chips when they got to Inspiration, a small, eclectic art store. It was like a museum of gorgeous items, but everything was for sale.
Within minutes, Presley had her heart set on the beautiful, shallow bowl in gorgeous shades of purple and blue that was part of a window display. It was a for-sure purchase, but then she fell in love with a knitted gray blanket, a painting of the General Store, and a glass-bead bracelet. Beckett laughed when she picked up a stack of hand-drawn postcards.
“There’s only so much room in my backpack,” he teased.
“Everything is so pretty and well crafted,” Presley said, running her hand over a watercolor sketch of the lake.
“All of it is local, as well.” The blond woman who’d been helping a customer when they entered joined them at a hutch displaying trinkets and stationery.
“It’s incredible. All of it. I love your store,” Presley said.
“Thank you. I’m Gwen. How are you, Beckett?” she said, reaching out a hand.
Presley didn’t think she could smile wider. “Gwen.”
Beckett and Gwen shared a glance, and the woman laughed. “Uh-oh, did my reputation precede me?”
Beckett took Presley’s hand when she’d shaken Gwen’s. “We had breakfast at Pete’s this morning.”
Gwen nodded in understanding. “Ahh. You’d be surprised to know he’s quite the romantic.”
Beckett laughed over Presley’s dreamy sigh. “Pretty sure Pete would deny that with every breath in his body.”
“He’s harmless, and the man can cook,” Gwen told Presley.
“That’s certainly true. He’s ruined me for all other waffles.”
“How long are you here?” Gwen asked.
Presley wondered if Beckett realized his grip tightened briefly at the question. “Just a few more days.”
Giving Beckett a somewhat motherly look, Gwen brushed her long blond hair back over her shoulders. “Well, I’m glad you’re making the most of your time here and seeing all of the wonderful things Smile has to offer.” Her gaze settled on Beckett as she spoke.
Pressing her lips together, Presley nodded, quite certain Beckett would not want to be described that way any more than Pete wanted to be labeled a romantic.
“I’ll let you finish looking. It was lovely to meet you, Presley,” Gwen said.
