juices, maybe. I unfolded it, my heart beating like I was sixteen and it was a love note.
I like your car, it said. I didn’t even smash it up.
It was signed with a little doodle of a daisy.
I smiled like a fool and told the dog, who’d been more than happy to spend the afternoon moving between ute, job sites, and construction trailers, “Not sure if she likes me, but she likes my car. Enough to cook for me, anyway, if that was her. I’m going to think it was her.”
The dog cocked her head, her ears folded over in that Labrador way, and with so much intelligence in her brown eyes, I’d swear she knew what I was talking about. That was why I was running with her this morning instead of leaving her at home. She was at my side, not a bit interested in chasing seabirds. A very well-bred Lab indeed, though I had the feeling that if I’d thrown a ball into the surf, her day would have been complete.
I was looking at the dog, and then I wasn’t. The sky had lightened a little more, enough for me to recognize the runner. Or maybe I would have anyway, because she was fast. Small, economical, and strong, her dark ponytail swinging, wearing tiny running shorts and a sort of cropped sports top.
I ran faster.
When we met, she went straight for the dog, dropping down and giving her a cuddle. The dog, of course, was thrilled about that. I’d have been thrilled about it, too. Her legs looked just as good as they had before. Firm, rounded thighs, slim ankles, honey-colored skin. A sheen of moisture on that skin from the effort she’d expended, and some soft down at the back of her neck where her hair had been pulled up high. Even her ears were pretty, with tiny gold balls in the lobes.
She was neat, she was compact, she was the opposite of me in every possible way, and she was—well, that thing you liked. Pick-up-able. Most women were pick-up-able for me, but she was … especially so. I didn’t think she’d appreciate my telling her that. I wasn’t planning to share. I was going to keep thinking it, though. No choice.
I’d never had a thing for little women. Clearly, I’d missed out. It was the contrast of all that energy and determination stuffed into that tiny package, or maybe it was just Daisy. She radiated life like some women radiated perfume.
Just now, she stood up smiling and said, “Hi. Awesome beach run.”
“It is,” I said. “How far did you go?”
“A few more kilometers.” Not trying to impress me, then.
“Have you been to Tunnel Beach yet?” I asked.
“No. Where is it?”
“Let’s run back together,” I suggested, “and I’ll show you.”
“Have you gone far enough?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe 8K here and back, plus a bit more for Tunnel Beach. Good enough for now. I have to get to work anyway.”
“Just don’t tell me the thing about running to match my speed,” she said, as we started off again, “even if you’re doing it.”
I laughed. “OK. I won’t.” She smiled, and then she stretched out, and I did run to match her speed and didn’t mind a bit.
She said, after a minute, “A friend of mine’s coming to visit tonight, so you know. Around six. With his extensive family. Pregnant wife. Three kids. Probably their dog, too, because why not. Also, he wants to meet you. It’s to check you out and make sure you don’t have evil designs on me, fair warning. Stupid, but there you are. On the plus side, they’re bringing pizza. Also, the kids are cute.”
“Oh.” I considered that. “He heard that some rando pushed your car into the river, then told you and the girls that never mind, you could move in and he’d take care of you. And they’re sixteen and seventeen. Well, yeh. Understandable. Though I’d have expected it from your brother.” I didn’t tell her that I did have designs on her. It didn’t seem like my best move.
“Ha,” she said. “Trust me, it may as well be the same thing, with Matiu. And Dorian isn’t much like that. He is with his wife, at least a bit. Just not with me. I’m the … older sister.”
“By twenty minutes.”
“Close enough.”
I said, “If I turn up, do I get to share the pizza?”
She laughed. “I thought you’d be insulted.”
“Nah. Makes sense. I’d do the same thing, I guess.”