Page 43 of All I Know

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The next morning,Damien and I walk a few streets over from his house, to the island's main drag.

Paradise Street runs through the heart of the island, and today, four blocks of the business district are closed to cars for the annual Ho-Ho-Ho Holiday Indie Market. It's a famous street market in this part of Florida with interesting and unique handmade things from artists and businesses in the community. Paintings of Pete, the island alligator, tye-dye dresses with the town logo, artisan pickles, and tiny plants nestled in plastic dinosaur planters—if it's quirky, it's here.

I'm hoping to buy gifts for Mom and Mrs. Hastings, figuring I'll find something for their eccentric tastes.

We're also starving, and there's a smorgasbord of tasty food in a food truck court. Most of it is off-limits for me, and I inhale the decadent, fried dough smell. I groan and look at The Beignet Bus.

"What if I get some and you have one bite?" Damien says.

My mouth waters at the idea of biting into a sugary donut. "Yeah, that should be okay and a chicory coffee. Black. But I'll need something healthier and more filling so I'm going tograb a tofu wrap at that place there." I point to an old yellow school bus with the words Vegan Van painted on the side.

He winces. "Okay. Meet you back here at these tables."

There's no line for the Vegan Van, and I saunter up to the window. "I'll have a scrambled tofu wrap with mushrooms and spinach. And hot sauce."

"You got it," says the woman. She pauses. "Whoa. Look at that sparkle. Is that real?"

"Hunh?" That's when I realize she's talking about the engagement ring on my finger.

I look down, as if it's not my hand. "Oh! Yeah. Yes. It is. I, we, got engaged last night."

"Well, it's gorgeous, girl." She beams.

"Thank you," I whisper.

Will I ever get used to being engaged? I mull this as I take my tofu wrap and walk back to Damien, who is paying for his beignets.

"People are noticing the ring," I say.

"Oh yeah?"

We walk over to a picnic table and sit, both on the same side. The strains of a salsa band playing a Christmas tune can be heard from the other end of the market.

"You ready for your one bite of beignet?" he asks.

"Give it to me," I growl, then open my mouth.

He offers the fried dough ball, and I open my mouth and take a huge bite. I know there's powdered sugar on my mouth but I don't care.

"Kate, the way your eyes are rolling back in your head, you'd think you were having an orgasm."

I shut my eyes and chew. And moan. Finally, I swallow, then wipe my mouth with a napkin. "I think I did come a little bit. That was incredible."

He shakes his head and chuckles. I sip my coffee, reveling in the sweet-bitter combination. "My tofu wrap has lost its luster," I say.

"You've gotta eat something. Please? You can't only have coffee and a bite of donut."

I smile and reach for my wrap. It's surprisingly tasty, and my whole body warms whenever he points out that it's necessary to take care of myself. It only highlights the fact that before I met him, I'd neglected lots of basic self-care other than my daily running regimen.

We eat and people watch in comfortable silence. When I'm finished with my wrap, I turn to him and waggle my finger with the engagement ring. "You don't mind that people know we're engaged?"

He scowls. "Why would I? Do you mind people knowing?"

"No," I say, suddenly defensive.

A couple slides into the seat opposite us at the picnic table. On instinct I smile, then my heart jumps into my throat when I see a thatch of thin, blond hair on the man.

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