Beckett’s POV
We splash around at the fountain until Callie's thoroughly soaked from the knees down, her shoes abandoned in a small, damp heap beside the stone edge, and eventually I manage to coax her out with the promise of ice cream, drying her feet as best I can with a handkerchief from my pocket before helping her back into her sandals.
'Where should we go first?' I ask, once she's properly dried off. 'Ice cream, or market?'
She considers my question, her brow furrowing slightly. 'Ice cream. Because if we do market first, I'll want to look at everything for too long, and the ice cream shop might close.'
'Very sound logic,’ I agree, grinning, my chest tightening as she slides her hand into mine once more.
We wander back through the winding streets, Callie, chattering happily about
