“Did you have groupies? Like you do now?”
She was teasing again, but I had to admit I liked it. “There were a few girls who might have been considered regulars at our shows, but they weren’t interested in me.”
“Poor thing.”
“They weren’t my type.” I frowned. “Come to think of it, I’m not sure they were anyone’s type.”
She smiled, flashing dimples I hadn’t noticed before. “So…if you’re not in a band and you don’t perform much, what is it that you actually do?”
Naturally I said, “My family owns a farm.”
She swept her eyes over me. “You don’t look like a farmer.”
“That’s because I’m not wearing my overalls and straw hat.”
She gave that rumbling belly laugh again, and I realized how much I liked the sound of it. “What do you grow on your farm?” As I described our seasonal crops and who we sold them to, she pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around them, flashing her immaculate red toenail polish. “I only buy cage-free organic eggs,” she remarked, nodding. “I feel bad for chickens who spend their whole life inside a tiny cage. But tobacco causes cancer.”
“Cigarettes cause cancer. All I do is grow a green leafy plant, and then I prime and cure the leaves before selling them.”
“Are those farming terms?”
“Priming means picking the leaves, and curing means allowing them to dry.”
“Then why didn’t you just say that instead?”
“Because I like to sound professional.”
She fluttered her long, dark lashes and shot me an indulgent smile. “Okay, Professor…what’s an heirloom tomato? I mean, I know they come in funky shapes and colors, but how are they different from regular tomatoes?”
“Most of the tomatoes you find in stores are hybrids, which means their DNA has been manipulated, usually so they won’t spoil while being transported. The downside is that hybrids taste kind of bland. Heirloom tomatoes aren’t hybrids, so each variety has its own unique flavor.”
There was a lot more to it—whether or not open pollination was used, whether seeds were purchased from vendors or harvested individually, the soil’s effect on flavor, climate—but only people who had to grow them cared about those sorts of details.
“That’s very cool,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a farmer before.”
“There’s a rumor we can almost pass for human.”
“Ha ha.”
I smiled, feeling a buzz that had nothing to do with the beer. “What about you? How long are you staying?”
“We leave a week from tomorrow. We just got in yesterday. Not long before you saw us on the beach, in fact.”
“You didn’t think about renting a house?”
“I doubt the idea even occurred to my parents. Besides, I have a lot of nostalgic feelings for the Don.” She made a wry face. “Plus, none of us really likes to cook.”
“I guess you were on the meal plan at school.”
“Yeah, but this is also supposed to be a vacation.”
I smiled. “I don’t think I saw you or your friends at the show last night.”
“We didn’t get there until the last fifteen minutes or so. It was pretty crowded, so we stood out on the beach.”
“Friday nights,” I offered. “People wanting to start their weekend, I guess.” Because my beer was now warm, I dumped the contents into the sand. “Would you like a bottle of water?”
“I’d love one. Thanks.”
Twisting in my seat, I checked the cooler. The ice had melted, but the bottles were still cool. I handed one to her and took one for myself.
She sat up straight, waving her bottle at the surf. “Hey, I think the dolphins are back!” she cried, shielding her eyes as she scanned the water. “They must have a routine.”
“I guess,” I said. “Or maybe it’s a different pod. The ocean’s pretty big, you know.”
“Technically, I believe this is a gulf, not an ocean.”
“What’s the difference?”
“I honestly have no idea,” she admitted, and it was my turn to laugh. Settling into a comfortable silence, we watched the dolphins riding the breakers. I still wasn’t sure why she’d approached me in the first place, as she was pretty enough to have her pick of guys. Between sips of water, I stole glances at her profile with its slightly upturned nose and full lips, as delicate as a line drawing.
By then, the sky had begun to pale slightly. The crowds were finally beginning to pack up, shaking towels and collecting plastic toys, folding chairs, and stuffing items into beach bags. Yesterday, I’d seen Morgan and her friends for the first time; I marveled at the fact that I was sitting beside her the very next day. Things like this didn’t happen to me, but perhaps Morgan was used to winning over strangers in an instant. She certainly didn’t lack confidence.
The dolphins moved slowly down the beach, and from the corner of my eye, I saw a melancholy smile cross Morgan’s lips. She sighed.
“I should probably check in with my friends before they start to get worried.”
I nodded. “It’s probably time for me to head back, too.”
“What about all that talk about watching the sunset?”
“I’ll catch it later.”
She smiled, rising from her spot and brushing the sand from her legs. I picked up the towel and shook it out before draping it over my shoulder.
“Are you going to be playing tonight?” she asked, meeting my eyes.
“No, but I’ll be there tomorrow at five.”
“Enjoy your night off, then.” Her gaze flickered toward the pool area before seeking out my own again. For the first time, I had the strange sense she was nervous. “It was nice meeting you, Colby.”
“You, too.”
She’d taken a step away when she suddenly turned back. “Do you have plans tonight?” She hesitated. “I mean, later in the evening.”
“Not really.”
She hugged her arms to her chest. “We’re planning to go to MacDinton’s. Do you know it? In St. Petersburg? I think it’s an Irish pub.”
“I’ve never heard of it, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
“You should meet us there,” she urged. “Since it’s your night off, I mean.”
“Okay. Maybe.” I nodded, already knowing I’d be there. She seemed to know it, too, and gave me a brilliant smile before starting back toward the hotel. When she was a few steps away, I called after her.
“Hey, Morgan?”
She turned but kept walking slowly backward. “Yes?”
“Why did you come out to the beach to meet me?”
She tilted her head, amusement lighting up her face. “Why do you think?”
“I don’t have the slightest idea.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she shouted over the wind. “I love your voice, and I wanted to meet you in person.”
On the way back, I called in a cheeseburger order to Sandbar Bill’s and grabbed it to go before returning to the public parking area where I’d left my truck. Once I reached my rental condo, I popped it into the microwave to warm up, and it hit the spot. Afterward, I showered and tossed on a pair of jeans, then reached for my phone to check my messages.
There was nothing from my aunt. Recalling her scolding, I instead texted Paige to see how she was doing, asking how her latest Tiffany-replica lamps were coming along. I watched the screen for the dots, but when she didn’t respond, I figured she was probably in the barn with her phone on do not disturb.
With the sky beginning to change colors beyond the sliding glass doors, I picked up my guitar, as my thoughts drifted to Morgan. She interested me, but I knew it wasn’t just her beauty that had affected me so strongly. Her confidence, especially for someone so young, drew me in. But there was warmth, too, and curiosity, and a fierce energy that I could sense even in our limited interaction. She seemed to know who she was, liked who she was, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she already had a vision of the future she wanted for herself. I tried to think of whether I’d ever met someone like her, but I couldn’t come up with anyone.