The dark-haired girl held up a tray with some kind of tart on it and a bread stick with a French flag toothpick stuck through it.
I took my prizes. “You made these?”
“Yeah.” She smiled.
“Mmm . . . it’s good.” I stood there eating, not wanting to move away. “So . . . how come you’re doing this beach festival?”
“It’s a camp activity. It was Lizzie’s idea to do a taste of Paris.” The blonde girl glanced at her friend then smiled at me with such natural ease, her pretty face blooming into beautiful.
“That’s cool. So you’re camping here?”
“Yeah, with our parents.” She smiled with such unguarded friendliness it took my breath away. “We come here every year.” Her lips were a soft, natural pink. “It’s a family camp.” Her long, golden hair shimmered as she combed her fingertips around one ear.
“What about you?” The dark-haired girl I presumed was Lizzie asked, distracting me from my stare.
“Uh, I live here. My parents own the store up the road.” It sounded lame, but oh well.
“You’re lucky. . .”
I looked at the pretty girl again as Lizzie continued to talk. When she fell silent I realized I hadn’t heard a word she’d said and now she was looking at me expectantly.
“Um, yeah,” I said, non-committal-like.
Lizzie smiled. “Me too.”
“I’d love to live near the sea.” The pretty girl looked into my eyes then glanced away, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. The skin from her throat down to her neckline was so smooth it shone with reflected sunlight. “It’s beautiful here.” She looked again into my eyes and this time she held my gaze. I was shocked at how pretty she was. We were just staring at each other and I knew I had to say something, but the conversational part of my brain had stopped working. I swallowed.