Page 47 of Spindrift

“Areyou sure that’s safe?”

“Definitelynot.” Morgan meant the words, even if not in the way she suspected Emilia hadintended them to be taken. Or maybe that was exactly what Emilia had intended,for her mock outrage slipped and her brown eyes flickered to Morgan’s lips.Ohfuck.

“Letme say good-bye to your friends first.” Emilia pushed off the counter slowly,her movements deliberate, and bade the remaining members of the partygoodnight. Lana’s eyes lingered on her longer than Morgan liked.

“I’lltext you,” Lillian said as Emilia waved good-bye.

“Lookslike they’re your friends, too,” said Morgan.

“I’mreserving judgment until after I run with her. Is she in as good of shape asshe looks?”

“Probablybetter.”

Emiliahad parked by Stormy’s jeep. Morgan wished she’d parked farther away even asshe recognized the inherent problems in that thought.

“Offerto drive still stands.”

“Andhow would you get home?” asked Emilia.

“I’dfigure it out. Uber. There has to be one around here somewhere.”

“Seriously,I’ll be okay. I’m sober now. I never finished my third beer, and driving inMaine is nowhere near as dangerous as driving in Boston.”

“ButBoston has fewer moose. And potholes.”

“True.Those are really, really bad.”

“Right?”Morgan patted the hood of Emilia’s car. “Some of them could swallow this thing.Or were you talking about the potholes?”

“Veryfunny.” Emilia bumped Morgan with her shoulder. “Potholes. Good thing I have afriend with a truck.”

Ittook Morgan a second to realize Emilia meant her.Friend. The word wokeher out of the buzz she’d allowed to cloud her judgment. She took a step backas she spoke. “Anytime you need it, holler. Say hi to Nell for me.”

“Iwill. See you around, Morgan.” Emilia slid into her car and shot Morgan a smilethat erased any remaining hope Morgan had harbored of getting much sleep.

Chapter Eight

Anna Maria’stext interrupted her afternoon sanding session two days later.

AM:Call me.

Sheput the phone on speaker as she stripped the mask off her face and settled ontothe porch.

“Youokay?” she asked when Anna Maria picked up.

“Iam. You are not.”

“Idon’t follow.”

“Yougot tagged in some photos. Are those your new friends?”

“Youknow I haven’t been on social media. Why, am I drooling or something?”

AnnaMaria snorted into the phone. “Basically.”

“What?”

“Checkyour Instagram.”

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