“Shhh,” I breathed in her ear, then put a little distance between us, leaving my hand on her thigh.
“Look at me,” I commanded. When I had her gaze I added, “I love your eyes. The way they convey your thoughts and feelings, and show the sweetness and intelligence within.”
“Gabe,” she said, almost like my name was a plea.
“And your voice.” This time I had to bite back a groan. “So sexy, Zo.”
“I love your lips,” she said throatily, causing me to grin.
Before I could respond, Reardon’s voice broke in.
“What are you two up to?”
Zoey jumped in her seat and moved an inch away, her face flushing guiltily as she turned to him and insisted, “Nothing.”
Reardon’s eyes crinkled as he chuckled.
“I can see that,” he replied, his voice full of laughter.
I took a deep breath, then turned to my cousin and said, “Just waiting to enjoy some s’mores.”
“Me too,” Reardon replied, then gestured to the seat next to me and asked, “Mind if I join you?”
I was going to kill him…
“Of course not,” Zoey answered.
While Reardon got situated, I leaned in to Zoey and whispered, “We’ll finish this later,” then sat up in my seat and returned my focus to what was happening around us.
Reardon was talking about all the stuff he had to do when he got home, when the marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate made it our way. I went to pass them to Zoey, and noticed she was staring off toward the other side of the fire.
“Zoey?” I asked, trying to get her attention.
“Aren’t they sweet?” she asked. I followed her gaze to see Chris and the curly-haired blonde, Grace, sitting next to each other holding hands and talking, totally captivated by each other.
“Is she the first girl he’s been interested in?”
“As far as I know. He’s never said anything to me about a girl, but I don’t know if he would or not.”
“I think he would.”
“You do?” she asked, her head turning toward me.
“Yeah,” I replied, taking her hand in mine. “It’s obvious you guys share something special. You’re his cool Aunt Z. I bet he tells you everything.”
“He’s such a great kid,” she said, her focus turning back to the young couple. “And so is she. So sweet and quiet. It’s a shame they probably won’t see each other again.”
“Never say never,” I said, smiling at the pair. “I bet they keep in touch via text and Facebook, at least for a while.”
When she didn’t answer, I lifted the bag in my hand and asked, “Care to burn a marshmallow?”
She turned to me with a smirk and answered, “Burnt, no. Perfectly browned, definitely.”
“No way,” I argued. “The best way to roast a marshmallow is to burn it until it’s nice and crispy, so that when you bite into it, you have the crunchy outside and the gooey center.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Prove it.”