Page 38 of Blue Gold

“So which one are we looking for now?” I asked as he turned back around and continued walking. “Shiitake? Porcini? Truffle?”

“Cremini.”

Taking my chance to have him speak more, I asked another question.

“What do they taste like?”

“Very earthy, but not too much. They are wonderful to cook with. My maman used to pick them herself, and I always tagged along as a kid.”

“That sounds lovely.” I smiled while watching his back. “Are you close to your mom?”

Elliot’s shoulders tensed before he took in a deep breath. “I thought you promised not to talk to me.”

“I did, but you got carried away speaking about mushrooms.”

“Not true. I just wanted to educate your American brain.”

“What’s wrong with being American?”

“You think you know it all.”

Feeling offended after he’d just insulted my whole nation, I frowned. “That’s not true⁠—”

“There.” He cut me off and strolled toward a stand at the end of the market.

It was filled with mushrooms, which all looked the same to me but not to Elliot, whose eyes shone as if he were looking at a million bucks.

“How do you know which one is good?” I asked.

Elliot picked up a mushroom and held it before me. “You choose one that’s full and firm.” As he spoke, he got closer to me until we were almost squeezed together. “You see the surface? It needs to be dry, but not too dry. Here—” He grabbed my hand and brought it to touch the mushroom.

With his eyes focusing on our hands, Elliot moved my fingers along the mushroom, letting me feel it.

“See how smooth it is?” he asked, voice soft.

“Yes,” I said, only I was referring to the softness of his touch. “Incredibly so,” I added as my voice dropped an octave, and my heart raced a bit faster. It took Elliot a few more seconds to realize what I meant before he dropped his hands from mine. His whole face painted red, and he quickly lowered his baseball cap to hide his reaction as he went back to pick his mushrooms.

After a long hour of shopping, we got back to the car. I placed the groceries in the trunk while Elliot supervised me, making sure I treated his beloved ingredients with great care. I probably did a good job because this time, he chose to sit in the front seat instead of the back. Although he still kept the cold attitude and refused to look my way. I guessed it would take some more groveling before he’d agree to forgive me, and I was all but willing to wait.

Deciding to fill in the silence with some music, I turned on the radio. Some pop song came on, and I was about to switch stations when Elliot stopped me.

“I love this song,” he said and immediately reached to turn up the volume.

“You do?” I frowned at his musical taste. It wasn’t bad; it was just… different from what I’d expected.

“Yes! Who doesn’t love Britney?”

“I think my baby sister loves her, too,” I said while he’d already begun singing the lyrics. The song was in English, and Elliot clearly had no idea what he was singing, and any connection between the words he sang and the lyrics was coincidental at best. It was incredibly funny, but seeing how much he was enjoying himself, I felt too bad correcting him, so I stayed quiet and allowed him to sing “Oops!… I Did It Again” by Britney Spears until the song ended and a new one came on. Elliot continued to sing his gibberish while also dancing to the music. Or at least as much dancing as sitting in a car allowed him to. He looked so lovely and carefree, the epitome of youth. Wishing to join his moment, I lowered the car’s windows and allowed the warm summer breeze in.

With one hand on the wheel and the other hanging out of the car, I enjoyed the moment to the fullest before I glanced at Elliot. His eyes were closed while a big smile stretched on his lips as he sang cheerfully. The wind ruffled his raven hair, making him look even more of a star than he already was, and I found it hard to look away. If not for driving, I’d have probably kept on staring at him for hours. Inside and out, he was striking, and it made my heart so full it nearly burst out of my chest.

In a short moment, all the stress from the last few weeks left my body, and it took me a second to realize what this odd feeling was—freedom. Since getting to the Hamptons, I’d been so scared of being near Elliot that I forbade myself from letting my guard down. But now, driving down an open road with the wind in my hair and him by my side, I felt so free and happy I wished for nothing more.

A sign on the side of the road caught my eye, and deciding to be spontaneous, I followed its directions and took a right turn. Elliot didn’t seem to notice I’d gone off course, continuing to sing until I parked the car in front of a small shop.

“Huh? Why did we stop here?” he asked, looking around.

I’ll never get used to him speaking French.