***
In the center of the stones a fire blazed, the smoke keeping any mosquitoes at bay. Sara watched mesmerized as the flames danced wildly near the marshmallow on her stick. “I've never tasted a roasted marshmallow before,” she said just before yawning for about the millionth time that night.
Christopher's hand wrapped around hers and adjusted the stick. “Most people like them light brown, but I like them best when they get charred on the outside.”
“Maybe I'll try them both ways and with the chocolate and graham crackers you brought.”
“S'mores are a must on a camping trip,” he said with the utmost authority in his voice. Pulling his own marshmallow out of the fire, he pulled the sticky concoction off the stick and popped it into his mouth.
She watched for some sign that it had been too hot, but none ever came. Cautiously she followed his lead and did the same thing. Despite being so close to the flames, the outside of the marshmallow was warm, but it didn't burn her fingertips. Popping the roasted pillow of sugar into her mouth she bit down. It melted in her mouth and she closed her eyes in delight. “Mmm… that's good.” She licked the remaining sticky goo from her fingers. “People must go camping just for this.”
Christopher stuck another marshmallow on the end of each stick. “I take it you're not having fun.”
Was that disappointment she heard in his voice? “I didn't say that. But next time we need an air mattress and some ear plugs.” Perhaps she could learn to tune out the sounds of nature, but the hard ground… well that was something else entirely.
“We can still get a room for the night.” He rotated the stick holding his marshmallow.
“Will you stop saying that?” Sara snapped. “I'm fine where we are. I'm just saying for next time.” More than anything she wanted to hit him over the head with her stick.
He reached for her free hand. “Okay, okay. I just want you to have a good weekend.”
Sara leaned against him. “I am. This trip has been great. We have time alone with no one bothering us. That's all I want.” Her friends may find it odd, but she didn't care where they spent their time. All that mattered to her was they were together having fun. So far their weekend camping trip fit the bill to a T.
“Me too.” He reached for the bag of marshmallows on the picnic table. “Ready for another?” he asked.
“Definitely. This time I want the chocolate and graham crackers too.”
Together they sat roasting marshmallows and constructing s'mores, for another thirty minutes or so then doused the fire and climbed into their tent.
“I need to figure out a way to make those at home.” Sara snuggled next to Christopher, the steady sound of his heartbeat under her ear.
Christopher played with her loose strands of hair lying across his chest. “Use the microwave. They taste almost the same.”
No longer able to keep them open, she let her eyelids close. “Even I can handle that,” she whispered before falling asleep.
Chapter 13