Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60418 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
I pointed toward the Pacific. “Turn left just before you hit the sand.”
He nodded. “Excellent advice.”
It took just a few minutes to reach the coast. Eden put on some music, and we both rolled down the windows as we headed south on the Pacific Coast Highway. This was the California of Hollywood movies and hit songs, and it felt like a dream. That was especially true because Eden and I usually didn’t have much one-on-one time, and I was grateful for every minute of it.
There was a sense of comfort and familiarity between us, and it was wonderfully soothing. Even though I loved our banter, I also loved the fact that we didn’t feel the need to fill every moment with conversation. Sometimes, we could just be. It was totally different than the time I spent with clients, where I had to be “on” constantly—flirty and upbeat and fake-interested. That got to be so draining after a while.
It was a little over seventy miles from San Francisco to our destination, and the time passed quickly. I looked up some directions on my phone and told him where to turn when we reached the right town. Once we’d parked, he turned to me and asked, “The Santa Cruz Boardwalk?”
“We’re here to ride the vintage wooden roller coaster and eat cotton candy,” I explained. “I read about this place online, and I’ve been wanting to come here ever since we moved to California.”
“This looks like fun. I feel bad that Casey didn’t get to come along.”
“Yeah, but he hates roller coasters.”
“That’s true.”
“We’ll bring him something sugary to make up for it,” I said.
The seaside amusement park was uncrowded, probably because the summer tourist season was over. We both pulled on our sweatshirts since the breeze off the ocean was on the cool side, but the sun was shining and I thought the day was perfect.
After I bought us some tickets, we got in line for the huge, wooden roller coaster and Eden asked, “Is this a good idea? I don’t want to say it looks ancient and rickety, but I’m pretty sure it’s made from trees chopped down by George Washington.”
“This thing’s stood since 1924,” I told him. “It’ll probably hold up one more day.”
When it was our turn to board the roller coaster, we got lucky and ended up at the very front of the car. Eden looked concerned as the ride started and we chugged forward. But as soon as we reached the first dip, he whooped and laughed and totally let go of his worries. That was exactly what I’d been hoping for.
Once the ride was over, he turned to me with a hopeful expression and asked, “Can we go again?” His smile was genuine and totally unguarded, and I thought he’d never looked more beautiful.
I grinned at him and produced the fistful of tickets I’d bought earlier. “Uh, yeah.”
We rode the Giant Dipper six times before we finally had to admit we were too nauseous for another round. Then we took a stroll to clear our heads. The boardwalk was filled with games of chance, the kind where you could spend a fortune trying to win a stuffed animal to impress your date. When we came across one with giant, off-brand Scooby Doo dogs, Eden said, “You need one of those. You love Scooby.” I couldn’t even pretend that wasn’t true.
The game involved tossing a basketball through a hoop that was pretty much the same diameter as the ball. He exchanged a few dollars for three balls and got it on the second try. I smiled at him as he handed me the giant stuffed animal and said, “Thanks. You’re weirdly good at everything.”
He shrugged it off. “I just got lucky.”
To cap off our excursion, I bought us a big cloud of blue cotton candy to share. We sat on a bench looking out at the ocean as Eden said, “This was perfect. Thanks for bringing me here.”
“Technically, you brought us here since you’re the one with a vehicle.”
“It was your idea though, and it was a good one.” He tore off a chunk of cotton candy and stuck it in his mouth, which was followed by, “Oh wow, this is delicious.”
“Why do you sound surprised?”
“I’ve never had it before,” he said. “I thought it would taste gross and be way too sweet, but it’s actually amazing.”
“How have you never eaten cotton candy?”
“You know how my parents are,” he said. “They never let me have sugar as a kid.”
It really was no wonder Eden had practically moved into our house after he and Casey became friends. He was the only child of two uptight, career-driven people, who owned several restaurants and were total food snobs. Given that, his home life couldn’t have been much fun.
Instead of dwelling on it, I asked, “Have you ever had saltwater taffy?”