Imagine With Me (With Me in Seattle #15) - Kristen Proby Page 0,39
if the heavens are weeping.
Today, it’s just overcast with fog. Mother Nature is moody.
But I don’t mind. I’m on mile five, with three left to go, and I feel fantastic. This is my third run since we returned from the cabin, and the muscle memory has kicked in, my lungs are getting used to the exertion, and I love every step I take, despite having to get back to my old normal form, stride, and recovery from the effort.
I let life interfere with my self-care for a long time. Too long. I don’t think I even realized it until I came here.
“I need to take a day off every week,” I mutter to myself as I dodge a piece of driftwood. “And I need friends.”
The biggest realization I’ve come to since arriving here hasn’t been the amazing sex or the companionship with Shawn—although that’s been a blast. It’s the friendships I’ve formed with his sisters. I forgot how much I enjoyed laughing with other women, telling secrets. Being silly.
I don’t have many friends in Minneapolis, but I need to call the few I do have and make sure I see them at least once a month. I need to see my mom more often, too.
Obviously, being here has also proven that I’m not agoraphobic. Not in the least. I’ve enjoyed the pub, the cabin, and being on the island. Seattle wasn’t the best experience when I first arrived, but I can chalk that up to being in a new place, not being super comfortable with strangers, and my insecurities rearing their ugly heads.
I feel bolder. Stronger. More confident.
And I love it. I’m taking it back to Minnesota with me for sure.
“I need to make a list of things to do at home,” I mutter and then pull out my phone, open the notes app, and hit the little microphone icon.
“See friends and mom more often. Take one day off a week. Get out of the house at least once a day. Get a haircut.”
That last one isn’t necessarily a life-changer, but it’s getting too long.
I run up the path that leads to Shawn’s house and pace around the driveway several times, letting my heart rate and breathing calm down. I stretch my legs and then walk into the kitchen to grab some water.
There’s a note on the counter from Shawn.
I’m down at Steve’s house, helping him clean up a few things. Shouldn’t be long.
Hope you enjoyed your run!
-S
I grin and decide to walk down to Steve’s to see what the guys are up to. They must be down there, cleaning up from the fire.
I can’t imagine losing my home like that. I’m just glad that Shawn was close by and able to save Steve’s sweet dog.
I can hear the guys talking as I walk up the driveway.
“Just a few more days.” That’s Shawn’s voice. I’d recognize it anywhere. I’ll be dreaming about his sexy-as-hell accent long after I leave.
I might have to take up writing romance so that I can write about him and his voice.
“And then what?” Steve asks.
“She’ll head back to Minnesota. She’s been here almost a month already.”
“That’s a long time to be away from home,” Steve says. “What’s her pen name?”
“Nora Perry,” Shawn says.
“I’ve read her books,” Steve says. “She can write one hell of a thriller, that’s for sure. I had to stop reading before bed because she gave me nightmares.”
“She’s damn talented,” Shawn agrees, making me smile with pride. “She’s also highly intelligent and completely badass. She’s put me in my place more often than I can tell you.”
“Gotta love a woman who can stand on her own two feet,” Steve says.
“What are you guys doing?” I ask as I walk around the big truck that’s been in my way.
“Just clearing some debris,” Shawn says with a grin. “I’d like to properly introduce you now that there isn’t a fire blazing. Lexi, this is Steve, a good mate of mine.”
“Hello,” I say, holding out my hand for Steve’s. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s mine,” Steve says. “I was just telling Shawn that I read your books. You have a crazy mind, lady.”
I can’t help but laugh and nod in agreement. Duchess wakes up and lumbers over to greet me. I scratch her behind the ears. “You’re right, I do.”
“Where do you come up with your ideas?”
“Just out of my wacky brain,” I reply. “I guess in a former life, I was a serial killer or something.”