She wasn’t going to fall for his joking a second time. Reaching for a plastic baggie of marshmallows, she popped one into her mouth with a disbelieving look.

“I did,” he insisted.

“Show me,” she called him out.

“All right.” Matthew picked up his cell phone. Swiping his finger across the screen, he turned the phone to show her.

She burst out laughing. He must have taken a picture of her when she had tried to put her first worm on. She had thought he was putting his on, too. Instead, he had taken a picture of her.

“That’s not fair. Delete it.”

“Heck no. When we’re fishing buddies at the ripe old age of one hundred, I can show you this picture and remind you that your fishing hasn’t gotten any better.”

“That’s cruel.”

“No crueler than the torture you inflicted on that poor worm.”

“I pretended it was Greer,” she shamefully confessed.

“You’re bloodthirsty, woman.” His grin widened. “I like it.”

Alanna giggled then wanted to smack herself for sounding like a teenager. Embarrassed, she reached for another marshmallow, only for Matthew to take it out of her hand.

“You’re driving me nuts by eating it plain. I brought graham crackers and chocolate bars for you to make some s’mores.”

“We don’t have a fire.”

“You don’t have a problem eating cold marshmallows, but you don’t do cold s’mores?”

“I was saving the calories.”

“You were being lazy.”

“I was.” She nodded.

“Then I’ll make you one.”

“Go ahead.”

Alanna watched him assemble the s’more, waiting for him to hand it to her when it was done.

“You have a bite on your line.”

She jerked her eyes toward her bobber as she used her uninjured hand to grab her fishing pole. She watched the bobber; it didn’t move. Alanna turned back to Matthew.

“Did it get away? It isn’t moving.”

“Probably took the bait and fled.”

“Little asshole,” she fumed, setting the pole back down.

“Here you go,” Matthew said, holding the s’more out.

Alanna took the s’more, feeling warmth from the cracker. She raised it to eye level and realized the chocolate was melted, and so was the marshmallow. It even had a crusty edge.

“How did you do that?” she asked, lifting wondering eyes to his.

“Magic.”

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

“Come on; how did you do it?”

His eyes twinkled with laughter when he opened his hand to show her the lighter.

Alanna moved to sit cross-legged on the blanket. “I love s’mores,” she said, taking a bite.

“Especially when you don’t have to make them,” he teased her.

“Aren’t you going to make you one?”

“You could give me a bite of yours.”