“Oh, it was a great idea. We tried.” She offered a grin. He really was a nice guy. Thick dark hair, clean-cut, and a boy-next-door kind of look, and as a runner, he had a lean, athletic body. But there was no emotional connection. At all. Why couldn’t she get into him? She’d thought that she would be married and have at least two kids by the time she was thirty-two. Instead, she kept relationships at a distance.

They continued inching forward in the line, and she almost suggested they skip it and grab something from a drive-through.

William leaned closer. “Instead of the carousel, why don’t we walk on the beach?”

Just what she didn’t need to do with William. Things could get . . . romantic. More personal. More awkward. “It’ll be too dark for that.”

Disappointment surfaced in his gaze. Oh no. She’d hurt him.

Fortunately, it was their turn at the counter and William stepped forward. “What’ll you have?” He didn’t even look at her.

“Dr Pepper.”

Someone bumped into her.

“Hey!” a kid yelled.

She turned to see the boy in line behind her glowering at the man in the dark-green jacket who cut through another line and disappeared in the crowd.

Julian? She had to know.

“Hey!” she said, echoing the kid as she left the line and followed the guy’s path in hopes she would catch sight of him again weaving back and forth, dodging bodies left and right. She had to see for herself. Though finding Julian would prove that she hadn’t hallucinated earlier on the ride, she really hoped that she’d been seeing things.

The crowd thickened as she kept her focus on the back of his head twenty or so yards ahead. He glanced over his shoulder, then turned around to walk backward and look at her. To hold her gaze.

Julian Abel.

Also known to her as 4PP3R1710N.

Or rather, Apparition.

He had one of those boyish faces that never seemed to age.

She hadn’t imagined him, after all. He’d been watching her while she was on the ride. Her stomach dropped as if she were being tossed and turned all over again.

He couldn’t be here. And yet there he was, staring at her. Why was he here? He had that knowing look in his eyes, and it stopped her in her tracks. Right in front of a young boy who barreled forward, smashing sticky caramel-covered ice cream all over her rarely used date-night blouse. Okay, her brand-new blouse.

The boy was around six, and his eyes filled with tears. His mother crouched to console him. “It’s alright, sweetie. We’ll get another one.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Mackenzie hated that she’d made a child cry. She could have avoided this mishap, but she’d been too focused on finding Julian instead of watching where she was going.