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Allison looked out at wave after wave that seemed to be rolling in for miles. “It’s so peaceful out here.” In the few minutes they’d walked hand-in-hand, they’d only passed a couple of other people. The daywasn’t exactly warm, and the chill had them both in zip-up hoodies, but the sunlight had certainly shown up to welcome them to town.

“I used to come to the beach to sort my thoughts out,” Megan said. “I’d pick out a spot in the sand, take a seat, and just gaze out into the ocean until it all seemed to settle down in my head and get quiet. That’s when I could see the world, my problems, for what they were and make a clear-headed decision.”

Allison smiled. “I imagine you were sixteen going on thirty-five.”

“My mom used to say something similar.”

“Good. I can’t wait to meet her. Harriet, right?”

“Harriet and Richard. But everyone calls him Rich. The dog is Lefty, named for the direction he chose to chase his tail. Mom cooks the most, but Dad is better at it. We don’t point this out, but it’s generally understood. They’ll have a room set up for you out of courtesy but will turn a blind eye to us shacking up after they’ve gone to bed.”

Allison’s eyes went wide. “We’re going to sneak around?”

“We are.”

“And you’re sure that’s okay.”

“I am.”

“That might be kinda…hot.”

Megan stared at her in all seriousness. “Everything with us is. I’ve stopped being surprised.”

Allison smiled. As on fire as she was around Megan, she truly enjoyed that it went both ways. She’d never felt more powerful than when she could affect Megan with just a subtle look, a touch, or when she wasn’t even trying. She’d watch as Megan’s eyes changed, and she got that look on her face that said she was turned-on. It had made all the difference in Allison’s recent history. She carried herself differently, picked out different clothes, even. The newfound confidence was liberating in a way she never could have known. She now wore heels on occasion, for God’s sake, feeling sexy and worthy of the look. Her! Allison Hale, little sister to the beautiful and talented Betsy, was a sassy minx with a really hot sex life and a wonderful woman to hold her hand on the beach. How? She still couldn’t fathom it all.

She’d been looking forward to today ever since Megan had extended the invitation. She’d searched far and wide and found the perfect bouquet to present to Megan’s parents, hoping they likedher. When Harriet Kinkaid opened the door with a warm smile and outstretched arms, she knew her wish was likely to come true.

“Well, hello, visitors from the north!” she said, embracing first Megan and then Allison. “And who is this?” Mrs. Kinkaid asked her daughter, accepting the floral bouquet with a grateful gasp. “Someone thoughtful. That’s for sure.”

“Mama, meet Allison.” Her mother didn’t hesitate and went in for a second hug.

“You’re just adorable is what you are. Come in and meet the hubby. He’s playing golf on his fake green and pretending it’s the Masters.”

“So just another weekend around here,” Megan told her with a wink.

Mrs. Kinkaid hadn’t been lying. They found Megan’s dad in the living room, putting on a miniature stretch of fake grass, wearing an entire golf getup, complete with a lime argyle sweater and a cap with a little orange ball on top. He held his arms to the side and grinned. “I got all dressed up for you.”

“Dad, you did this to embarrass me, and you know it,” Megan said with a laugh and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Never,” her father said and extended his hand. “Rich Kinkaid, famous golfer in the living room.”

“Allison Hale, mere schoolteacher.” She fought the urge to curtsy, already liking these people very much. The two-story home screamed of warmth but also fun. A glass owl full of lollipops sat on the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen and also created a feeling of a window connecting the two spaces. The family room was medium sized with a couch and two comfortable looking forest-green armchairs, where she could imagine Megan’s parents watching the news at night, side-by-side. Family photos lined the entryway, and Ally couldn’t wait to steal a moment to check out little Megan, who probably carried an attaché to elementary school. This was going to be fun.

“Let me show you to the guest room, Allison, and then we girls can have margaritas and a chat outside. That old guy can join us if he wants.”

“Shall I bring my mariachi music?” they heard him call as they made their way down the hall.

“Not if you want to stay,” Harriet hollered back.

Harriet showed her to a quaint guest room decorated with a blueand white quilt and a gray chair in the corner. As she placed her bag on the floor, Harriet motioned for her to follow them. “You gotta see our girl’s room. I haven’t changed it much since she left home at eighteen for Baylor.” She’d said the words with a great deal of pride, and when they entered the room two doors down the hall, Ally understood why. The bookshelf across from the bed with the pink comforter was jam-packed with trophies and medals of all shapes and sizes. There was hardly enough room to hold all of them.

“Oh, man. Look at all the accolades,” Allison remarked and whirled around to catch Megan’s highly embarrassed face.

“I liked to participate.”

“She was a hard worker,” Harriet said. “Stayed up much later than her dad and me, studying, practicing, whatever she had to do. She didn’t just participate—shewon.”

“I’m not at all surprised,” Allison said, having every suspicion about Megan’s drive confirmed on this one shelf. “Oh, and a yearbook?” She picked up the checkered book positioned in the middle of the desk.