Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“It’s a girl thing,” Finley confirmed.
Jackson met my gaze and shrugged. “I’m here in a purely observational capacity, just like last year.”
A woman crossed in front of us in a swimsuit that wasn’t hiding much.
“I bet you are,” I drawled slowly.
He flashed me a grin.
“Jax!” A tall brunette with chin-length hair waved her hands in the air as she ran our way. Holy crap, I could barely run on a treadmill, and this woman hit the beach like it was pavement.
Wait. Was Jackson seeing someone? We’d never had that conversation. He would have said something, though…right? My stomach sank.
“Miss Tina!” Finley let go of our hands and hugged the woman.
“Hey, Christina.” Jackson greeted her with a hug, too.
“You must be Morgan,” Christina said with a bright, open smile and sparkling brown eyes.
“I am,” I said, then partially froze as she hugged me.
“I’m so happy to meet you!” she said, stepping back and doing a quick but open appraisal of me. “These two talk about you all the time.”
“We’re going to make shirts!” Finley declared.
“How fun!” Christina turned to Jackson. “You take Finley, and I’ll take Morgan. We’re going to do beach yoga.”
“We are?” Yoga pants were something I was intimately acquainted with. Yoga itself? Not so much.
“We are!” She nodded enthusiastically.
Oh God, she was one of those workout people. The ones who declared that exercise healed everything and posted their fourteen CrossFit workouts on Instagram.
We were so not going to be friends.
“Okay, you guys have a good time. Morgan, why don’t you meet us over by the surfing lessons when you’re done?” He pointed to an area of the beach and walked off with Finley before I could protest.
Of all the inconsiderate—
“So, I’ve decided we’re going to be friends,” Christina said, tilting her head.
“Um. Okay?” What the heck did you say to that?
“I mean, Jax decided we should be friends, but now that I’ve met you, I agree. And Fin likes you. She’s super picky with people, so I know you’re a good one. I already grabbed you a mat, so we’re all set up for yoga. And where are my manners? You must think I’m nuts.”
A little.
“So, Jax and my husband, Peter, work together.”
“They do?” My nausea vanished at the word “husband,” not that I should have cared.
“Yep! Jax said you were new in town and might need someone besides his emotionally unavailable butt to talk to. So he stopped by my jewelry store to grab Finley and mentioned Hawkins Day, and I thought what’s more perfect than getting to know someone while you’re in crazy positions with your asses in the air?”
I couldn’t stop the laugh that tumbled past my lips. This woman was sunshine, radiating her happiness.
It couldn’t hurt to let it rub off on me.
That’s when it hit me. She’d already grabbed me a yoga mat. Jackson hadn’t walked off because he was inconsiderate.
“Oh my God. Jackson set us up on a blind friendship date. That’s what’s going on here.”
“Pretty much,” she admitted with a little shrug. “Yoga’s this way.” She led me to a section of the beach where women stood chatting on mats lined up in rows. The women were all different shapes, sizes, and ethnicities, but all had a variation of the same smile.
Wait. Did happy people do yoga, or did yoga make people happy? Or maybe it was just the open, adventurous spirit of the day.
How long has it been since you laughed and smiled like that?
It felt like forever.
“So Jackson and your husband work together?” I asked as we set up next to the empty mats Christina had reserved. What exactly did oceanographers do, anyway?
“Yep. A few years now. But enough about the boys. What do you do?”
I stripped off my outer layer of clothing, leaving me in my swimsuit like the other women.
“I just graduated from college. I did a five-year master’s program in literature and education. So in a couple months, I’ll start my first teaching job, but right now I’m pretty much a beach bum. Which, thinking about it, isn’t a bad way to live.”
“It sure isn’t. And where did you pick up that delicious accent?” She limbered up a little, twisting her body.
“Southern Alabama. What about you? Or are you one of those northerners who thinks you don’t have an accent?”
She laughed. “Wyoming. More west than north. So, tell me, what’s your damage?”
Her words came with such honesty and genuine curiosity. In truth, it was the best kind of way to get to know someone quickly, if they were willing to open up to a complete stranger.
But maybe that was the best time to lay your shit bare, when you had nothing to lose yet. Or maybe listening to the tape this morning had scraped another layer of dust off my avoidance. What the hell. If I scared her off, then so be it. I scared myself most days.