Page 51 of Tourist Trap

“Cool,” Claire says, giving the girl a look. “He’s so cool, right?”

It’s effortless, the way Claire works with these kids. She’s young and cool enough to be on their level and admired but old enough to be respected. It’s a fine line not many can straddle, but Claire kills it. The girl looks absolutely crushed that her idol is so obviously disappointed with her, though I don’t think Claire will ever express that disappointment aloud.

“Hey, Claire, did he say yes?” I ask, walking up and putting a hand to her lower back. The warmth of her skin penetrates my palm, and when her head turns, a hint of shock melting into pleasure written there, I feel that warmth spreading through my chest.

I amsocompletely fucked.

“I haven’t asked yet,” she says with a curious smile.

“Jonah, Claire and I were about to get ice cream—do you want to come?” With my words, her body melts a bit, leaning into my side, and I hold her tighter.

So. Totally. Fucked.

“Ice cream?” he asks nervously. “Oh, uh, yeah. I have some money in my bag—” I shake my head, then tip my chin toward the boardwalk.

“No need, we’ve got you covered. Later, guys,” I say, giving a flip of my hand to the other kids, two of whom I recognize as kids I've given surf lessons to a few times over.

Fucking spoiled assholes.

The boys look from me to Claire, then to Jonah, something clicking before their shoulders fall a bit, but I barely pay attention as I lead Claire and Jonah to the boardwalk. The hand she slipped around my waist tightens in a quick thanks.

“Does this count?” I ask twenty minutes later, tipping my chin toward Claire’s half-eaten cone, and her brow furrows.

We’re on a bench on the boardwalk, eating the cones that we bought, Jonah finally taking a moment to stop talking. As soon as he got away from the kids, he started talking about anything and everything, clearly comfortable around Claire. I know for a fact her so clearly taking him under her wing the way she has will have a long-lasting impact on him.

Which is just another thing making me warm to her.

“What?” she asks, popping a finger into her mouth and sucking it off.

I was focused on them chatting and laughing together as we ordered and waited for our ice cream, but once it was served, all I could concentrate on was not being a fucking creep, watching Claire lick at her cone or her fingers when it melted quicker than she could eat.

A unique kind of torture.

“Get some ice cream. I think that’s your list, right?”

Her smile widens, and she looks from me to Jonah and shrugs.

“I’ll allow it.”

“His list?” Jonah asks.

Claire turns to him excitedly, always eager to share her experiment with anyone who will listen. “I made Miles a list of fun things to do this summer because he’s so boring.”

Jonah nods, looking older than his age suddenly. “Oh, totally. He’s super boring.”

I groan and look to the clear blue sky. “Jesus Christ, does the whole town think I’m boring?” I ask, and Jonah nods, then shrugs.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“I think that was a rhetorical question,” Claire says in a stage whisper before they both laugh at my expense. And even though it’s simple, just ice cream on the boardwalk in the town I grew up in with Claire and a twelve-year-old kid, it’s the most fun afternoon I’ve had in years.

EIGHTEEN

CLAIRE

I’ve been on the clock for barely four hours of my ten-hour shift, and I’m already exhausted.

This is the first time I can really understand why Miles can’t stand the tourists who descend on this town. It’s the first week since most of the public schools in the state were let out, and families have started to show up tenfold.

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