Page 10 of Burn for You

“Oh, you’re all going down,” Leo brags as we all stand in front of the corn hole Marina set up. I’d never admit it, but I appreciate a good game of corn hole. It reminds me of afternoons at my nonna’s house with Marisol. Loud, fun, and full of life. Full of love. My heart sinks at the thought, like it does every time the image of the family that I no longer have flashes in my mind. That happens every time I walk into my restaurant.

Nonna’s restaurant.

“Up for a game, chef?” Leo asks me, dragging me from my thoughts.

“Game on.”

“All that braggingseems to have worn you out, man,” Isay to Leo, opting for a nicer way of saying he sucks at this game. I’ve beat him three for three.

“I bow out. Whitley, sub in.” He waves May over, where she happily takes his place, and grabs the three beanbags from him as they cross paths.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Get on with it,chef.”

I bristle at the nickname coming from her, and then I throw my bags, all three hitting their mark. Caio whistles from behind me, where he sits with Isla in between his legs. “Since when did you become a corn hole pro, Raf?”

“It’s not really something worth bragging about, is it?”Hi, my name is Rafael, and I’m really fucking good at corn hole.

I shake my head, chuckling as May moves into position. Her face is pure concentration as she lines up her shot. She pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth as she aims, and I can’t look away. I never took notice of how soft they look, how luscious.

Thump.

May’s bag lands on the ramp, just short of the hole. “Ah, so close,” I say.

She pins me with a glare. She may as well be shooting daggers at me, it's that deadly.

She faces forward, finding her focus again before she throws…and misses again. This time, the bag lands in the grass.

I suck air between my teeth. “Tough luck.”

“You can shut up now. You know, some people might call this interference.”

I shake my finger at her. “Where’s that charming confidence now?”

“You keep pointing that finger in my face and I’ll bite it off,” she spits, doing exactly what I wanted.

She squares her shoulders and moves to stand right in front of me. “You want to play dirty, Rafael? I can play dirty.”

“I have no doubt about that.” I smile, and it just makes her frown more. Our roles are reversed, and I can see now why sheenjoys it so much. Her nostrils flare and she looks like she’s ready to downright drop kick me at any moment.

“Last shot, Whitley,” I nod to where our game sits unfinished.

“Welcome, everyone!” A loud voice booms through the open space. I turn around to see Meryll standing on a little stage between a few food stalls.

May takes the distraction as an opportunity to abandon our game, dropping the beanbag and trudging back to the picnic blanket with the others, no doubt glad for the interruption to her losing game.

I should be glad about it too. I already know she’d be a sore loser, and I’m not sure I want to find out what comes along with that. But a part of me wishes I could have the bragging rights over her. I know that sounds childish, but that’s what happens to me when it comes to a competition with May.

“And welcome to Ruby Cove for another year of our annual local food festival!” A cacophony of cheering and clapping echoes around us. Meryll owns a fromagerie on Main Street and is big on organizing town events, including the food festival every year.

“We have lots of new stalls this year, and we are so excited to see you all here supporting our local community! Please enjoy yourselves and dig in!”

Hoots and cheers erupt again before the atmosphere goes back to muttering all around us.

“Where’s your stall this year, Raf?” Leo asks.

“I thought I’d enjoy the festival from this side this year.” Even if I feel a little bit bitter watching stallholders laughing and smiling as they serve up goods to the festival goers.

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