Page 14 of The Summer Fling
"We're just getting started."
The second stopis the market in town—a handful of vendors set up in the harbor square selling everything from fish caught thatmorning to jewelry made from sea glass. It's not tourist season yet, so it's mostly locals, which means Hannah gets the full island experience.
Kara trying to convince her to buy a hand-knitted sweater in ninety-degree heat, old Jake arguing with the vegetable vendor about fishing regulations, kids running between the stalls with ice cream already melting down their arms.
"It's like stepping into a postcard," Hannah says, watching a woman arrange shells on a blanket.
"Wait till you meet Dolores. She's been selling the same twelve bracelets for fifteen years. Never sold one, never makes new ones. Just shows up every day and rearranges them."
"That's weirdly adorable."
We wander between the stalls, and I watch Hannah take it all in—the way she stops to really look at things, asks the vendors questions about their work, laughs when Kara starts telling her about her grandson who's "very handsome and single and only lives on the mainland three days a week."
At the produce stand, she picks up a mango and brings it to her nose, scrunching her eyes closed as she inhales.
"God, this smells incredible. We don't get fruit like this back home."
"Can she try it?" I ask the vendor, who immediately slices off a piece.
Hannah hesitates. "I don't usually eat random fruit from strangers."
"Good thing Tommy's not a stranger. He's been growing mangoes here for thirty years." I take the slice and hold it out to her. "Live a little."
She takes the slice from my fingers, brushing my palm as she does, and bites into it. Juice runs down her chin, and she makes a soft sound of pleasure that awakens my cock from slumber. Again!
Ah, fuck. Not here.
"Oh my God, that's amazing."
"Told you." I buy a whole bag of mangoes, ignoring her protests that she can't possibly eat them all.
For our last stop,I take her somewhere I'm sure will take her breath away.
The sea cave is tucked into the north side of the island, accessible only by a path that's more suggestion than actual trail. I've been coming here for years—when I need to think, when the bar gets too crowded, when I want to remember why I chose this life.
I've never brought anyone else here.
Hannah follows me down the rocky path, asking questions about every plant and bird she sees, making me laugh with her running commentary on island wildlife:
"That crab just gave me a dirty look,"
"Do those birds always sound like they're gossiping?".
By the time we reach the cave entrance, my cheeks hurt from smiling.
The cave opens into a chamber about the size of my living room, walls carved smooth by centuries of waves. Light filters in through the entrance, turning the water inside pale green and casting rippled shadows on the stone. The sound of the ocean echoes off the walls, intimate and endless at the same time.
"Jesus," Hannah breathes, stepping inside. "This is like something out of a fairy tale."
"Better than the overlook?"
"Different. More...secluded, no..." She trails off, running her hand along the smooth wall. "More intimate."
She wades into the shallow pool at the back of the cave, water lapping around her ankles, light playing across her skin.
"How did you find this place?"
"Same as the overlook. Got lost." I step into the water beside her. "Though this one was on purpose. Sometimes you need a place that's just yours, you know?"
