Chapter 20
Gabe is quiet as I go over the details of the jubilee in his passenger seat. His eyes focus on the road, but every now and then I catch him grinning at me and making my insides flutter like I’m watching Election Day returns.
I swipe through my text messages. “Fantastic. Our White House florist has said a display with all the state flowers is doable and will send their ideas for us to design them here. You may need to pay the cost of shipping for some of the flowers we can’t find locally.”
He hesitates. “You sure we’re not taking advantage of your mom’s position, right?”
I nudge my shoulder into his. “Concerned about ethics, are you?”
He lifts his brows. “Um, yes.”
“Good. You’d fit right in with my mom’s advisers.”
“You mean she’d like me?”
I hesitate, maybe reading more into that question than I should.
Does it matter to him if my mom likes him?
Does it matter to me? I look away. “This isn’t an official event.
And so long as you’re paying for everything, or items are being donated and people are volunteering their time, I don’t see the harm in asking for suggestions. ”
If he noticed I dodged his question about my mom, he doesn’t let on. “You’re amazing. I don’t know how my mom and I can ever come close to repaying you.”
“No way. We had a deal, remember? I’m not helping you out of the goodness of my heart,” I tease.
He feigns shock. “That’s right. Operation Bucket List is still a thing.”
“And you better make good on your end of the deal.”
I’m rewarded with his perfect smile. “In fact, I’m taking us somewhere to conquer another item on your list.”
“Conquer and annihilate. That’s my approach to lists too,” I joke.
“I feel bad for any list you write.”
I glance out the window, watching the green fields stretch flat, then rise into gentle slopes.
He makes an unexpected turn and we’re winding up a mountain road.
I’m silent as I take in the view between the trees.
As we go higher, the roofs and trees below get smaller and smaller, like paint splattered across a canvas.
“I think this is a two-bucket-list-items day,” I muse, my pesky brain wandering to “first kiss” on my list.
“Two items,” Gabriel says, and whistles. “Okay. Will do my best.”
“Speaking of your best, how’s your portfolio work going?”
I’m not sure he heard my question as he pulls his truck into a dusty area that appears to be a parking lot and stops the truck.
I’m awestruck by the vista overlooking the valley below. This vantage point makes the mountain scenery near the hotel look tiny in comparison.
“We’re not even at the spot I was going to take you. This is just the parking lot,” Gabriel says. I’m speechless as I take in a view that makes me think of the lyrics “for purple mountain majesties.”
“It’s golden hour. A photographer’s favorite natural light,” Gabe says. He grabs his camera from its case. “Since you asked about my portfolio, I figured I can try to capture some more photos while we’re up here,” he says, answering the question I forgot I had asked.
“It’s a stunning place to do—” I hear Gabriel’s camera click. I smile at him as he lowers his camera. “Sorry, the light was…perfect.” I blush. Something tells me he wasn’t just talking about the light.
I hop out of the truck and give Shaw the briefest wave as his SUV pulls into the parking lot a few feet away from us. “Sorry, you know my babysitters,” I say wryly. Though I’m not sure why I need to apologize. It’s not like we need the privacy, right? We’re not here on a date.
My sandals crunch on the rocky dirt as I wander. I close my eyes and feel the cool mountain air against my face and take in the clean scent of trees, dirt, and grass.
Gabriel gestures for me to follow him. We trek around some large rocks and to an area that leads up a small dirt path that disappears into a patch of trees.
Beyond the trees, I’m blown away by the scene.
It’s like The Sound of Music, a grassy meadow on a hilltop.
Gabriel was right; the parking lot wasn’t the view.
Stretches and stretches of blue-and-purple mountains spread before us in all directions.
The afternoon sun casts a warm glow everywhere it hits.
The sun tends to take its sweet time to set in the summer, but the world is starting to slow down too—unlike the racing of my heart.
He grins. “Almost there,” he says.
“This isn’t the spot?”
“No. But I love coming up to this meadow. Especially at night. This is where I want to capture my astrophotography shots for my portfolio.”
I nod. “The Milky Way, right?”
He looks pleased that I remember. “It’s going to be gorgeous at night. No light pollution here. Just me, alone—with the stars.” He turns so I can just see his profile. “You’re actually the only person I’ve ever taken up here.”
Gabriel sharing this place with me feels so special. “I’m honored,” I tell him. We pause as we stand in the grass, admiring the golden valley below. Finally, he motions for me to follow him to another group of trees and rocks.
“Think you can manage climbing up these rocks?” he asks.
I look at my strappy flat sandals. “Sure,” I say, taking a wobbly step up.
Gabriel grabs my hand. “Careful.”
I stare at my hand in his and can’t quite work out how both exhilarating and familiar his touch is. I stare up at his face, and his eyes are warm and comforting. “I got you.”
“Thanks,” I blurt out, letting him lead me up a few more steps. Soon we’re at the top. After stepping past a few trees, I understand why he led me up here. The view is Ansel Adams–worthy.
“Here’s a great place for portraits,” he says, channeling his tour guide tone.
“Portraits? This place is poetry.”
“This is Shenandoah Valley,” Gabriel explains. “And the Blue Ridges in the back.”
“No wonder you come here. Who wouldn’t be inspired?”
Gabriel chuckles. I hear a few clicks as he takes photos. But his camera isn’t pointed at the mountains; it’s pointing at me. I throw my hands on my hips and give him my best serious model pose.
Gabriel clicks more photos and grins as I make a pouty face. “Work it,” he teases.
“The First Daughter of the United States is only styled by the best.” I point at my clothes. “Depop and a local DC boutique.” I point at him. “What about you? Levi’s 501s?”
“Oh, looking at my butt, are you?” My cheeks heat as he twists, pretending to look at his Levi’s tag on the back of his jeans. He lowers his camera and laughs. “I’m joking. They’re 517s.”
“Trendy.”
“Classic.”
I tilt my head as he adjusts his lens. He isn’t using his digital camera. He has a vintage-looking one. “Was that your dad’s?”
“Yeah.” I hear the tenderness in his voice. “He liked old cameras as much as he liked hunting for old photographs.”
“The camera must be over fifty years old.”
“They made them to last back then.” He holds up the camera and I walk so we’re side by side. “This camera took pictures on the moon’s surface,” he muses.
I gasp. “What?”
“No, not this exact camera.” He laughs. “But same brand.” He turns the device slowly in his hands, letting the light catch its vintage frame. It’s unlike the modern cameras I’ve seen on the campaign trail—no touchscreen, no obvious lens.
To take photos, he looks down into a small viewer instead of holding it up to his eye. And no flash? “How does it work?” I ask.
Gabriel smirks. “Want to try?” I nod and he hands me the camera like he’s handing me a baby. “The trick with these is patience and trusting your gut,” he says.
I peer into the viewer, holding the camera uncertainly. “Is this right?” My fingers stumble as I try to place them, and I feel him a step behind me, his arms hovering just above mine. Close, but not touching.
“Mind if I show you?” he asks gently.
His hands cover mine and guide my fingers to where to place them on the camera. He’s closer now. The heat from his body radiating against my back and his musky, mint-and-smoky-wood scent make me tingle with anticipation.
I only need to back up an inch and I’d be in his arms. I’m doing my best to concentrate on his words but also losing myself in his presence.
“How about taking a shot of the mountains?” he asks, bringing me back to our lesson.
“Yes.”
“The trick is capturing the light just right.”
I’m tickled by the view. “It feels like I’m looking at a canvas rather than peeping behind a lens or holding my phone up.”
Gabriel nods. “It does feel more artistic.”
His hand guides mine again and I feel the camera’s shutter button. “And press here when it feels just right for you,” Gabriel says. My mind goes blank. We’re talking about taking a photo, right?
I tilt the camera and watch as the shadows and sunlight play across the trees and spill over the mountain ridges. I gasp and take the shot. A thrill zips through me, and I can’t help but squeal, joy bubbling over like adrenaline.
“Very good,” Gabriel says. I feel his breath tickling my ear. “You’ll remember this moment when you look at this photo.” I turn around and meet his grinning face. I’ll remember this moment, but not just because of my photo.
My heart races. We are toe to toe. Only one of us needs to lean an inch forward to close the gap. His eyes study mine with a glow in them I haven’t seen before.
I lick my lips and his eyes drop to my mouth—heat floods through me, sharp and unfamiliar, making my blood burn with an intense, unfamiliar heat. “My bucket list,” I whisper, the words catching.
His gaze snaps back to mine, startled. “Sorry?”
“My bucket list.” My voice cracks. What am I doing? This is more confusing than the Electoral College. More dramatic than a presidential debate stage.
“You said we’d knock out two items,” I whisper. His eyes dart all over my face like he’s trying to read me.
I lean forward. My lips hover over his. “We can check off watch sunset and—”
Gabriel’s hands wrap around my waist. I murmur with delight as I tiptoe up to kiss him.
I’m warm and safe as our lips touch. Happy and exhilarated. A firework exploding into a thousand sparks. He’s right. I’ll always remember this moment. The moment I kissed a boy for the very first time.
A loud buzz accompanied by a vibration makes me jump. Of all the places and times, I have phone reception.
Gabriel takes a step back. I know instantly the moment is gone. “I’m sorry,” he says, his face pale.
“No, I’m so sorry,” I say, annoyed my phone won’t stop buzzing.
As I fumble to silence it, my phone falls to the ground.
Gabe and I bend down to pick it up at the same time.
My eyes widen when I see the screen with Oliver’s name with a text message: Miss you along with a wave, a dolphin, and multiple heart emojis.
I glance at Gabe, who must’ve seen Oliver’s text, but so what? Oliver is not the boy I’m kissing. Gabe steps back, raking his fingers through his thick hair. Then he steps away and packs his camera back in the case like we didn’t just have the most mind-blowing kiss ever.
“I think I got some good candidates for my portfolio,” Gabe says, not making eye contact with me.
“That’s great,” I say, confused by his sudden aloofness. “And I think we can check off three bucket list items.” I giggle nervously.
“Three,” he asks. “I only count one.”
I frown. “No. Three. We’re watching the sun set, we’ve hiked somewhere ‘nature-y,’ and—” I stammer trying to not shout, Hello?! We just had the most epic kiss.
He looks up. The cold distance in his eyes throws me off. “I’d hardly call this a hike. And, well…” He pauses. “That third item we can just consider practice for the real one.”
I stiffen. “What?”
He acts like he doesn’t hear me. “It was practice. For the real one…with your boyfriend.”
My blood goes cold. “My boyfriend?” I shake my head. “If you’re talking about Oliver, he’s not—We’re not together.” Gabe’s expression has relaxed into his familiar max chill vibe.
He shrugs as if nothing even happened. “It’s fine, Abby. We had a deal and I’m glad I’m able to help you with your list.” He turns back to the path.
If that’s the game he wants to play, then fine. “Still counts as two in my book,” I say, pretending to check something off in the air. “The sunset alone earns a gold star,” I say, catching up with him.
He shakes his head. “I can’t in good conscience count this as a real hike.”
Just like he can’t count our kiss as a real kiss.
He gestures for me to follow him down the trail and offers his hand to help me balance down the path. Our eyes meet and his darken for a second.
I ignore his offer and step past him. Risking a fall feels safer than risking that kind of contact.
Silence settles between us, thick as the trees. I’m disappointed when Gabriel turns away, and he doesn’t look at me again until we’re back at the inn.