“My dad owns his own business, so yeah, he didn’t attend many of my rugby games when I was a kid. And then there’s my younger brother, who is currently caught up with the wrong crowd and not listening to any of us when we tell him he needs to make smarter choices. And I know that makes him sound like a teen, but he’s twenty-eight, which makes it even more pathetic.”
“He’s my age,” Shannon said.
Leo glanced at her. “Oh yeah? Remind me not to introduce you two.”
She chuckled. “Trust me, he sounds exactly like the sort of guy I am definitely not into.”
Leo liked the way she said that. With conviction.
“You two must be close in age,” Shannon commented.
“Yep. I’ll be thirty next month.”
“That’s a milestone birthday. Do you have big plans?”
“My ex-fiancée was planning a surprise party that I was fully aware of because she was using my credit card to pay for everything. So at the moment, I have no plans.”
“Is that what you want? A lavish party?”
“Nope. Not my scene. She was doing it because that’s what she wanted, and I let her because that’s what I do. Did.”
“If it were your choice, which I guess it is now, what would you do?”
Leo thought about it for a few moments. What would he like to do for his birthday? “Honestly? I think I’d like to go camping.”
She laughed. “Really?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Have you ever been camping?”
“No.”
“Me neither. But it seems like fun. Hanging out in the woods for the weekend, eating food cooked over an open fire, drinking beer and sharing ghost stories or funny stories. It seems so…”
“Normal.”
He glanced at her swiftly before turning back to the road. “Yes. Exactly.”
This woman totally got him. They could be really great…friends.
He turned into the drive leading into the Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes National Park, bought an annual pass because why the hell not, and then sought out a parking space in the shade.
Maureen had given him a small backpack filled with bottles of water and granola bars, so he looped it over his shoulders, and he and Shannon set out for their day of adventures that did not include anything he’d ever do if he were home or vacationing with his friends or family.
Translation? He had an amazing time.
Hours later, they sat at a picnic table and devoured the food Maureen had packed for them. She’d also sent them a bottle of wine, which helped explain why the basket was so damn heavy.
He poured wine into the glasses she’d also thoughtfully added, and raised his in toast.
“To the most unexpected and most fun vacation I’ve had to date.”
Shannon touched the rim of her glass to his and softly said, “Me too,” before taking a delicate sip.
He cocked his head and told himself not to ask, but then said, “Where are you from, Shannon?”
Her gaze dropped to her glass, and after a pregnant pause, she said, “I live in Chicago.”
“Oh yeah? Beautiful city. Love to visit but I don’t think I’d want to live there.”
“No? Why not?”
He shrugged one shoulder and took another drink. “To be honest, I want to live in a place like this. Well, not on the sand dunes. Seems like it would be annoying, constantly tracking sand everywhere. Plus, how do you avoid getting sand in your eyes and mouth when it’s windy?” He pretended to shudder, and Shannon laughed.
“Like Traverse City, I mean. Or, even better, up on one of the peninsulas, north of town. Someplace small, far away from all the drama of the big city.”
She swirled her wine, another cab franc, which he suspected Maureen had packed on purpose since that had been Shannon’s drink of choice yesterday.
“Do you have a favorite wine?” he blurted, suddenly craving information about her. Not the big stuff, like what she did for a living or who her family was, but the little nuances that made her who she was. “Are you normally a wine drinker?” he added.
She sipped. “I used to be. For the last year I’ve been more of a vodka girl.”
He had the sense he was delving into territory she wasn’t keen to talk about, but he asked anyway. “Was there a reason for the shift?”
She nodded slowly while staring off into the distance, over his shoulder, where the dunes separated them from Lake Michigan. “A year ago I sort of overhauled my life. Once I made the first change, I obsessively started changing a whole bunch of things, just because I could, because I had that sort of control, for the first time in my life.”
Holy shit, she really was just like him, except he hadn’t started making the changes yet.
She touched her hair. “I used to be blond. Bleached blond. I hated it.”
Leo nodded. “Definitely like you better as a brunette.”
She smirked. “You’ve never seen me as a blond.”
“No, but this color suits you. Like you chose it yourself and made it your own.”
She blinked owlishly and then cleared her throat. “Thanks.”
“What else?” he prompted. “What other little but significant changes did you make?”
She raised her wineglass. “The switch to vodka.”
He winced. “Sorry. I’ll let Maureen know that you don’t want any more wine.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. It’s really quite delicious, and…and the circumstances are very different. So it’s okay.”
“There’s a distillery not too far from where we’re staying. The Jack Pine gin is my favorite, but they have some seriously smooth vodka too. I can take you there tomorrow, if you want. Or hell, we can swing by today. Unless you have other plans for this afternoon.”
She snickered.
