Page 17 of Love Over Easy

“Can I run with you?” she asks.

I grin and ruffle her dirty blonde hair. By dirty I mean with dirt, not in color. I want to check my hand and see if it came away muddy, but I’m not rude. “I don’t think you can keep up. Isn’t someone looking for you?”

Her little shoulders straighten and her chin juts out, reminding me of myself when someone made fun of me. “I can keep up. I won an Olympic medal in the running race.”

I prop my hand on my hip and raise a disbelieving brow. “You did. I see. Well, in that case, come on.” I alter my pace to be more in tuned with an “Olympian.”

I’m surprised that she does have a pretty good pace. “I didn’t see you on the beach. Where did you come from?”

She points a thumb over her shoulder. “One of the caves.”

“Oh.” I don’t believe her any more than I believed her story about the haunted castle, but I’ll play along. Is it supposed to be good when a child has a vivid imagination? “I’m sure that makes it easier to get around.”

“Yeah. There are some I’ve not explored yet, but I will. There’s treasure in some of them. Jewels and coins like you’ve never seen before. It’s like a mountain of shiny things.” She raises both hands as high as she can above her head evidently imitating the so-called mountain.

“That sounds like a great find. I bet you are really rich.” My shoestring comes undone and I stop to squat and tie it.

Once I make sure the knot is secure, I stand back up. I do a three-sixty, but the little girl is gone. I shield my eyes and look up at the trees and brush and don’t find a trace. I shrug. Appearing and disappearing seems to be her MO.

Something shiny reflects the sun halfway up the beach near the brush line. It’s probably a beer can, but my curiosity gets the better of me. I trudge up the loose sand and my mouth drops open when I discover it isn’t a beer can. It’s a coin. A silver coin, about the size of a quarter, with a funny design stamped into it. In the center is a shield that’s divided into fourths, each section with a different symbol. A lion, crossed swords, a crown, and the fourth symbol I can’t make out. Did the girl leave it to cement her case about the caves?

I chuckle; this has to be a coin from one of the island’s pirate celebrations. David said they have an entire week of parties and activities. But it’s a cute find so I stick it in the tiny pocket hidden in the waistband of my leggings and pick my run back up from where I was originally interrupted. That little girl is certainly a strange one.

After another hour, I ease up into a jog and then slow to a walk. There’s no reason to push a workout. There’s a ridiculously big and beautiful blue house in the distance. I’ll walk to that and then turn back. As I get closer, I make out a long porch in the back with more than a dozen white rocking chairs just waiting for someone to sit and watch the day go by. Closer to the beach, there’s a fire pit with surrounding chairs in different beachy colors.

Just as I near the house, a door opens and a blonde woman comes out with a…

My feet stop, jerking me to a sudden halt. I blink. It’s still there. The woman waves. And she has a…chicken under her arm. A large, golden-brown chicken.

“Hey, come on up!” she calls out and waves her hand.

And just like you always do when that happens, I look to my left and then to my right to see who she’s talking to. There’s nobody else so it must be me.

She shades her eyes with one hand and waves me in with the other. “Come on!”

I don’t know her. What does she want? I jog past the fire pit and walk on the paver pathway to the porch. She looks friendly, but I don’t recognize her. The chicken, however, is concerning. The chicken is now perched on her shoulder, looking at me with beady eyes.

“I saw you running in the distance and I thought you might be ready for a drink by the time you got here. I have iced tea and fresh-squeezed lemonade,” she says with a welcoming smile.

My eyes go back to the chicken. I lick my lips and find them suddenly dry and in desperate need of some—“Lemonade, please.”

“Great. Come on in out of the sun.”

She holds the French door open for me and says, “I’ve not been here that long, but I don’t believe we’ve met. My name is Kimberly Westmoreland and this is my Inn.”

“Oh, I thought it was big for a house. It’s really beautiful. And I am new to the island. I’m Shyanne.”

Is this what it feels like to meet someone that has no clue who I am? I like it. I like it a lot.

I follow her down a hallway lined with pictures and into a big kitchen. She opens an industrial size refrigeration unit and pulls out a pitcher of lemonade. The outside is covered in cold sweat beads. I lick my lips again. I can already taste the tart liquid as it slides down my throat.

She takes two glasses from a cabinet and points to a small breakfast table by the window I hadn’t noticed. Taking the chicken off her shoulder, she sets it on her lap while she pours us each a glass and then hands me one.

The sweet lemony smell goes up my nose as I tilt the glass back and drink half in one gulp. I wipe my mouth on the back of my arm and eye the chicken, who is still looking at me with brown piercing eyes. I can’t believe Kimberly is acting so nonchalant about the bird.

“Shyanne. That’s a beautiful name.” Kimberly’s eyes keep going to my body. I’m beginning to think she’s checking me out. Which would be fine, but I definitely like the peen. At least from what little I’ve had. I really would have liked some this morning. I have to stop thinking about David and that kiss.

Kimberly leans forward as she stares at my chest. “You have a slammin’ body. What do you do, work out all the time? And your thighs. I bet you can grip a head like nobody’s business with those muscles. Can I touch your abs?”

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