Free Summer Attractions by Beth Bolden Page B

stick to her first name and leave the pet names behind.
    At the time it had seemed like such a good idea—a way to slowly begin preparing her, but mostly him, for separate lives on opposite sides of the country. Now she just remembered how sad and resigned his eyes had become and how he’d cut their study evening short.
    “Are you okay?” Gabe asked, jerking Jemma back to the present.
    She wasn’t. Not really. She’d believed that moving on would be something she’d look forward to, something to be savored and enjoyed, and god , it was. Especially when it was with a man like Gabe, who set her on fire just by glancing in her direction. She’d thought she could close off the guilt a lot more easily, but she couldn’t. Not even if Colin never had to know about Gabriel Rocha.
    “Let’s play,” she said instead, because pretty much the last person she ever intended to discuss Colin with was standing in front of her looking impatient.
    He let it go, jogging backwards on the beach, his limbs lithe and graceful.
    She probably would have embarrassed herself a hell of a lot more, but the wind had picked up on the beach, often blowing even Gabe’s well-aimed tosses of the frisbee off course.
    She bit her smile back as he went diving for a particularly badly aimed lob of hers, but couldn’t help her laugh when he emerged triumphantly from the sand with the frisbee in hand. He was charming even when he wasn’t trying; Jemma chalked it up to her own inability to stay immune.
    The sun was setting over the Bay when they finally called it quits, sandy and panting for breath.
    “What was the score?” Jemma asked archly as she leaned down to slip her feet back into her sandals.
    “Ten thousand to zero,” he teased.
    “Oh, I wasn’t that terrible,” she insisted.
    “No, you weren’t,” he said and when she glanced over at him, she saw how serious his expression was.
    It just about matched how seriously compromised her heart was becoming.
    “I had fun,” she said, lightly as she could, as they walked back to the boardwalk.
    “That was the idea.”
    “I didn’t know policemen had fun,” she teased.
    “This policeman doesn’t, usually,” he admitted as they headed back to the main Festival area. “Should we get some dinner before the Opening Ceremonies start?” He gestured to where they had a giant countdown set up on one of the televisions they’d set up. They had about forty minutes until the ceremonies began.
    They walked past the colorfully painted food trucks with the entrancing scents, and after discussion, they decided on the esfihas , a sort of Brazilian-inspired pizza topped with a shredded beef that smelled so good Jemma’s mouth watered.
    They carried the esfihas piping hot on thin paper to the main viewing area, where a man was renting low beach chairs. Passing her esfihas to Gabe, Jemma dug in her pocket and pulled out some reals . With a fond shake of his head, Gabe managed to transfer all their dinner to one hand and pluck a single bill from her outstretched hand and give to the smiling man.
    She shot Gabe a look and picked up their chairs, and after they found an occupied spot with a good view of the giant screens, set them up.
    Jemma was halfway through her first esfiha when she turned to him. “I wasn’t going to overpay him, you know.”
    He shook his head again, still that brand of amusement that always infuriated her. “And you think if you hold out a whole palmful of money, he’ll just take what it costs?”
    She took a bite of flavorful pastry. “I was going to ask you, of course .”
    “You were?” he said, looking genuinely surprised.
    Jemma took a long drink of her beer, letting the moment drag out a bit longer. “Of course I was. I don’t know how to speak Portuguese. I had no idea how much he was asking for; I had no idea how much money was in my hand. You had answers to both of those questions. I’d have to be incredibly stubborn and a little stupid to not ask for your help