Inked Obsession (Montgomery Ink Fort Collins #2) - Carrie Ann Ryan Page 0,38

first anniversary of losing their husband soon after finding out that he had cheated and had a love child?

Hallmark did not make a card for that.

At least, I didn’t think so.

I had slept hard, harder than I had in a long while. It had been wonderful to wake up. I had then taken a long bath, washed my hair, blown it out, and just relaxed throughout the day, doing my best not to think about anything but what I needed to do to put my next foot in front of the other.

Now, I was ready for lunch. First, I wanted to put my feet in the water again and maybe swim, ruining the blowout I had given myself.

“Hey, there,” a man said as he walked towards me. I looked up and gave him a small smile, not an interested one but still polite. I didn’t know this man, and there were plenty of people around, so I wasn’t alone if he wanted to kidnap or murder me—because, of course, that’s the first place my mind went. He was attractive. He wore swim trunks, had at least an eight-pack, a full beard, and bright blue eyes.

If he had any ink on him, I would have thought he was one of the Montgomerys. Of course, he could be a Montgomery cousin for all I knew.

“Hello,” I said softly, shielding my face from the sun. I wore large sunglasses, but it was still a little bright.

“I’d ask if you’re all alone out here, but that would sound weird.”

I snorted. “Just a little,” I said with a laugh.

“Anyway, I noticed you were standing here and enjoying yourself, and I won’t keep you, but I was thinking…if you didn’t come with someone’s special, I’d love to buy you a drink. What do you say?”

I looked at him, at that eight-pack and how the sun glistened off the droplets from when he had gotten out of the water. He had thick thighs, strong muscles, and did absolutely nothing for me.

I didn’t think it was a case of me missing Marshall. Far from it. I’d found men attractive in the past—and even recently.

Images of Beckett filled my brain, and I pushed them out of my mind. That was odd. I shouldn’t be thinking of him like that, and yet, here he was, encroaching on my mind.

He shouldn’t. He truly shouldn’t.

I should just say yes to this man I would likely never see again, try to enjoy myself, and have a drink with no ties or promises. Maybe I would never even ask his name. I would just smile and laugh and try to figure out exactly who I was now.

I wasn’t really sad. I should be sad. I should be breaking inside. I wasn’t. I had been on the road to healing long before I found out that Marshall had cheated on me. And I wondered what that made me.

Maybe I was just a realist.

Because Marshall had left me well before a year ago.

And yet, as I looked at this man now, I realized that it wasn’t that I didn’t want to date again. I told myself I did. I’d told myself I would be free to enjoy myself this weekend. And yet, there was nothing. Not a single spark or flame.

I was done being the widow Eliza. The sad Eliza. The broken Eliza. I wanted to have fun, but in order to do that, I needed a little spark. I smiled at the stranger, trying to figure out what to say.

Only he must have seen my thoughts written on my face. “Ah, wrong moment.” He winked. “Well, it was nice to meet you.”

“It was really nice to meet you,” I said. “And maybe another time. Thank you.”

He raised a brow. “Thank you?” he asked. “For what?”

“For asking.”

He smiled again, and I wished it did something for me. “I’d say anytime, but I’m not a creeper who’s going to ask a few hundred times and annoy you.”

“Thank you for that.”

“If I ever see you again on another beach, at another time, consider yourself asked.”

“Another time, another beach, maybe I’ll say yes.”

“Well, that’s worth looking forward to.”

He winked and then headed back towards the resort.

I shook my head, looked out at the beach again, and inhaled.

I took another few step into the sand as the surf came and tickled my feet. I smiled.

Was I relaxed? Maybe. I had been on my way to finding happiness. In my art, myself, my friends. Marshall and everything that had happened to