Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Aspen could not wipe the grin off her face.
She and Noa had won the kayak race by a few desperate inches, which had been exciting.
But the part Aspen couldn’t stop replaying in her mind was what happened right after.
When Maddy had reached for her hand, and then hadn’t let go.
She’d climbed out of the kayak and then continued to hold Aspen’s hand, right there on the beach, in front of everyone.
Then she’d made a flirty comment by tossing Aspen’s own flirty comment right back at her.
The BBQ had taken over the beach while her mind was stuck on the endless loop of a twenty-second interaction with Maddy. Aspen finally forced her attention back to what was in front of her.
Bunny’s acrylic sign stood at the head of the table, gold calligraphy announcing ALL-AMERICAN BOARDWALK BBQ, over the tagline: Hot off the grill, cold off the cooler, and not a single thing your cardiologist would approve of.
Today, they were serving burgers, dogs, and brats. Her dad had relinquished his control over the grill to let the Howells take over for this particular barbecue.
At the grill, Jake was wearing an apron that said GRILL SERGEANT with no shirt on underneath, flipping patties with a spatula in one hand and a beer in the other.
Six feet away, Chloe was trying to have a conversation with Lena and her eyes kept drifting over to the grill every fourteen seconds, and then snapping back to Lena.
Lena followed Chloe’s gaze once, registered what had her so distracted, and then pretended Chloe’s incomplete sentences made sense.
Jake should have just taken his shirt off months ago.
“You don’t put the brats next to the dogs,” Hank announced as he stepped up next to Jake. “You’ll get cross-contamination of flavor. This is Grilling 101, son.”
“Then I guess it was your job to teach it to me.” Jake shot back.
Hank lightly smacked him upside the head. Aspen smiled and turned her attention to the salad bar. The All-American kind of salad, that is.
Potato salad—that Aspen, Chloe, and Maisie had taught Marion how to make the night before, after Marion insisted that potato salad was made with Dijon vinaigrette, not mayonnaise, and then caved to the American way because Maisie asked her to.
Macaroni salad—that the Reyes sisters were locked in combat over, Mia insisting it needed more dressing, and Bella insisting it needed Mia to put the spoon down.
Grace’s watermelon-feta-mint salad—that Grace was standing three feet away from telling everyone who eyed it suspiciously that yes, it was real cheese this time.
And then there was the Jell-O Pretzel Salad, under its own laminated card that did not match Bunny’s hand-scripted labels: BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND AND AGAINST BUNNY’S BETTER JUDGMENT.
It had been out in the sun too long and was beginning to sweat and slump, the whipped layer going soft at the edges, and she watched as Maddy casually drifted over and got both hands under the dish.
“Maddy Sterling,” came Gladys’ voice from thirty feet away, “you put that salad back.”
Gladys had not turned her head. She was facing the ocean, thermos in her lap, sunglasses on, and she had clocked Maddy’s entire operation through the back of her own skull.
Maddy froze with the dish halfway off the table. “It’s melting.”
“It’s setting,” Gladys called back serenely.
Maddy set the salad down in defeated surrender and shot Aspen a look like, can you believe this, and Aspen grinned back.
Then Carmen approached Maddy, and they were engrossed in a conversation that Aspen couldn’t hear.
Noa plopped down into the folding chair beside Aspen with a sigh and a beer in each hand. She held one out to Aspen.
“Thanks.” Aspen took the beer, and Noa clinked their bottles together.
Holli had been gone about twenty minutes by then, something about doublebooking and needing to get to her sister’s engagement party. Jake had glanced over his shoulder and called out “Bye Wendy,” and gone back to his burgers.
“So.” Noa took a sip of her beer and looked straight ahead, all casual. “Maddy got hot.”
“No way. Maddy is off limits.” It came out of Aspen’s mouth instantly, and she scrunched her eyes closed.
Noa turned her head slowly, and a grin spread across her face. “Ahhh.” She drew it out, leaning back. “So you and Maddy, huh? How long has that been going on?”
Fuck. “That’s not fair. You laid a trap.”
“And you walked right into it.” Noa was delighted.
Aspen glanced at Maddy, who was nodding along as Carmen pointed at her, probably getting the talk Carmen had promised yesterday. “How’d you figure it out?”
“Please. How’d I figure it out. I clocked it from forty feet away the second I got here yesterday.
” She gestured with her beer bottle. “You and Maddy, standing together, and she wasn’t biting your head off.
That told me everything I needed to know.
” She nudged Aspen with her elbow. “So come on, spill. How long?”
Aspen glanced around. Maisie was inhaling Rice Krispies treats by the dessert table; Chloe was still pretending Jake didn’t have a torso; her dad had joined Hank in giving Jake grilling lessons.
And Maddy, most importantly, was over twenty feet away, well out of earshot, now laughing at something Carmen was saying.
Aspen lowered her voice anyway. “Seven days.”
“Seven days. Wow.” Noa’s grin tipped into something conspiratorial. She leaned in. “How is she?”
Aspen shot her an incredulous look. “Under no circumstances will I ever answer that question.”
“Oh, come on.” Noa dropped her head back. “You’ve been waiting, what, twenty years for this—”
Nineteen. But sure.
“—and you don’t even want to gloat a little?” Noa held her index finger and thumb close together.
“You,” Aspen said, pointing at her beer bottle at her, “would have personally beheaded me in high school if I’d talked about Maddy like that. To anyone. You’d have buried me in the dunes.” She took a sip.
Noa shrugged, conceding it easily. “A lot’s changed. Clearly.” She tipped her head at Aspen. “Maddy wouldn’t have touched you with a ten-foot pole in high school.”
“Okay.” Aspen exhaled through her nose. “Thank you for that reminder. Really. I’d almost let myself feel good about it for a second.”
Noa laughed, unrepentant, and then her face shifted into something more direct. “So what is it? Are you two dating? Fucking? What?”
Aspen turned the cold beer bottle in her hands and watched the condensation slide.
“We’re… I don’t know what we are. I mean, we’re sleeping together.
” She kept her voice low. “But she knows how I feel about her. That I want more than just that. So we’re—” She made a small, helpless gesture. “Seeing where things go. I guess.”
“Mm.” Noa chuckled. “I’m guessing those were her words. Let’s see where things go. After you told her how you felt?”
Aspen went still, her head whipped towards Noa, eyes wide. “Is that a bad thing?” Her voice came out higher-pitched than normal. “What do you think that means?”
“Whoa. Chill.” Noa held up both hands with a laugh. “I’m not trying to give you a panic attack. I’ve just used the same line myself a time or two.”
Well, that was not reassuring. Like, at all.
Noa clearly noticed and softened, slightly. “Honestly? I’m just shocked that you telling her you wanted more didn’t send Maddy running for the hills.” She shrugged one shoulder. “So. Who knows. Maybe she really does like you too.”
Aspen desperately wanted that to be true, but now Noa had planted seeds of doubt in her mind. As far as she knew from Bunny’s accounts, Maddy had never had a serious relationship over the past fifteen years. Maybe she was more like Noa than Aspen had thought and only did casual hookups.
Then Noa, who could only take sincerity in very small doses, tipped her chin toward the far end of the beach. “So. What about the sexy Frenchie over there?” She raised an eyebrow. “She off limits too?”
Aspen followed her gaze to where Marion was sitting by herself, her head tipped back, soaking in the sun. “My Aunt Marion? Oh. Uh.” Aspen huffed a little laugh. “I mean, I don’t think she—”
And Marion, at that exact moment, glanced over her shoulder at the two of them and let the corner of her mouth curl. Just slightly. A small, unmistakable smirk aimed directly at Noa.
Aspen looked back at Noa and frowned.
Noa was grinning her cocky grin, the one that had emptied bars from here to Honolulu.
“Never mind.” Aspen lifted her beer and took a long pull. “Whatever. But if you hook up with my aunt, I don’t want to hear about it. Not one word. Ever.”
Noa slapped her on the shoulder and jumped up, crossing the sand and taking the seat next to Marion.
She watched Noa extend her hand, Marion slide her hand slowly into Noa’s, and then Noa hold on and rub the top of Marion’s hand—probably making some comment about how soft her skin was and asking for her to share her moisturizing routine.
Marion laughed, it was the most emotion Aspen had seen her show in weeks. Well alright then. Leave it to Noa.
Aspen glanced at Maddy, who had also watched what just unfolded, and raised her brows at Aspen like the fuck? Aspen shrugged with a shake of her head.
There was no way Maddy was like Noa. She was sure of it.
* * *
After lunch, Bunny climbed back onto her platform and announced the sandcastle competition through the megaphone.
They would be judged on three categories, she said, holding up three jeweled fingers.
Structural integrity. Creativity. And—a dramatic pause she’d clearly rehearsed—most likely to survive a wave.
“You have forty-five minutes!” Bunny boomed. “GO!”
The teams raced across the sand to claim their workspaces.
Within seconds of finding the perfect damp section of sand, Maddy and Noa were down on their knees drawing up plans, Maddy sketching an outline with her finger while Noa argued for load-bearing turrets.