Page 37 of Trusting Fate (Hope Falls: Brewed Awakenings 2)

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Easton stretchedhis arms over his head as he stared out the window at the breathtaking view. There were pine trees as far as the eye could see. A fawn was eating grass next to its mom beside the deck.

This was exactly what he needed. Peace. Tranquility. Calm.

Everything he’d been wanting to find here, was here. But he felt unsettled thanks to a certain blonde who, for the time being, was living two doors down the hall from him and with whom he was going to be sharing a bathroom.

Since he’d only had about six hours sleep in the past three days, and that sleep had been less than restful considering he’d had a half-naked woman draped over him he’d decided to take a nap after Grace left this morning. When he’d gone to take a shower before lying down, he’d smelt the fresh floral scent that he’d forever associate with Grace Noelle Wells.

While he was showering, he hadn’t been able to resist picking up the designer bottle of either her body wash or shampoo or conditioner, he couldn’t tell since the writing on the bottle was in French, and sniffing the contents.

As soon as the flowery aroma drifted into his nostrils, he caught his reflection in the mirror and realized that his behavior was dangerously edging into stalker territory. So now he could add that to the list of out-of-character behaviors that Grace Wells brought out in him.

So far, there was nervousness, jealousy, and now stalker adjacent tendencies. And he’d known the woman less than twenty-four hours.

That was the real mind fuck. Yesterday at this time he was flying into SMF and had no clue that Grace even existed. He wasn’t sure how that was possible.

He’d traveled all over the globe, he’d met tens of thousands of people, and no one had ever made an impact on him the way Grace Wells had.

And he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. She was obviously not interested in a relationship. She didn’t even have relationships. But there was definitely something between them. Something he wanted to explore.

Or did he?

He always strived to be the best version of himself, and so far that was not the man that Grace brought out in him.

But maybe that was good. Maybe he would learn more about himself the closer he got to her. Or maybe he’d become someone he didn’t like.

He shook his head and sighed. He was acting like the decision of whether they got to know each other more was up to him. It wasn’t. There was a very good chance that Grace wanted nothing to do with him.

Especially after he’d told her that she made him jealous and nervous. The more he thought about that admission and replayed the conversation over in his head, he was realizing that his confession wasn’t exactly the way to a woman’s heart. Especially a woman like Grace.

She did not seem like a woman who responded well to weakness, in herself or in others.

Easton folded his arms across his chest and when he did, he felt the tension he was carrying in his shoulders and in his back.

Yoga. That’s what he needed. He’d do some yoga and then some meditation, and then maybe he’d be feeling more like himself.

He’d started doing yoga eight years ago when he was living in India. He’d gone there to work on an irrigation system but the place he was living happened to be next door to an orphanage. On the first morning he was there he noticed that the staff and children were doing yoga and meditating. Then that night he saw them doing the same thing. They started and ended their days with it.

After about a month, they’d asked him if he wanted to join them, so he had. It was a practice that he’d incorporated into his own life even after he left. He wasn’t religious about it, but he did try and stretch and quiet his mind at least once a day.

The deck would be an ideal place to do it. He’d have the benefit of nature, fresh air, and quiet.

He threw on sweats and headed down the stairs when he heard Grace, it sounded like she was in the kitchen. “Finally, you’re up.”

Easton checked his watch and saw that he’d only slept for a few hours. It’s not like he’d been out all day. He assumed that she must be speaking to him considering no one else was in the house, but it did seem like an odd thing to say. Maybe she was on the phone.

When he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he saw that she was sitting at the table staring at her computer. There were papers strewn all over the walnut surface.

“I’ve been waiting for hours to speak to you,” she said without so much as glancing up from her screen, her fingers were flying over the keys as she typed.

He still wasn’t sure she was talking to him, maybe she was on a Zoom call or something.

“To me?” he asked.

Her fingers stilled and she lifted her eyes. “Who else would I be talking—”

Her voice trailed off and he noticed that her eyes weren’t yet meeting his. They’d stopped mid-chest. He glanced down and remembered that he hadn’t put on a shirt because he was going out to do yoga and it was more comfortable this way.

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