Page 7 of Hidden Harbor (Evergreen Rescue #1)

A shadowy figure lurked in the park across from Serenity Yoga on Tuesday morning, and I paused. He was large enough to be intimidating, even from a distance. Early mornings in this part of town were usually very quiet. Empty. None of the other businesses were open yet.

Scurrying back up the hill to safety would be the cautious choice. Instead, I thrust my shoulders back and gripped my keys in my fist.

The man stepped out of the shadows, crossing toward me. Tall and dark, I recognized him immediately, releasing the death grip on my makeshift weapon.

“Morning, Anya.” His voice was low and gruff, gravelly with early-morning rust. He moved with an easy grace that read as predatory from a distance, but up close became the ground-eating stride I associated with purpose.

“Drew. What are you doing here so early?”

He met me at Serenity’s front door, waiting patiently as I unlocked it and ushered him inside.

“Isn’t there a six o’clock class this morning?” He shifted from foot to foot, scrubbing a hand along the back of his neck.

“Yes, but it’s only five forty-five.” I flipped on the lights, rounding my small counter to turn on the tablet I used to check in students.

“I wasn’t sure how long it’d take to get me set up,” he mumbled.

I peered at him more carefully. Instead of his usual jeans and Island Salts shirt, he wore loose-fitting black joggers and an athletic tee. The bright blue shirt contrasted nicely against his tanned skin.

“Are you really taking a class?” I asked, bemused. He’d shown no interest before. Violet bought a gift certificate for his last birthday, but I fully expected him to pawn it off on his mother or grandmother. It’d been months, and I hadn’t seen him at the studio.

“Yes.”

I blinked. “Okay then, let me get you into the system. Have you taken a yoga class before?”

“Nope.”

“You’ll catch on quick, and I’m happy to bring you props or help you with the poses.”

“There are props?” His face blanched, and I bit back a grin.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Fenwick. They’re mobility aids to help ease you into the poses in a way that works for your body.”

A few of my other regulars arrived, milling around while they waited for me to finish with Drew.

“I’m not convinced there’s any such thing as a pose that works for my body. I’d bet the last time I stretched was early this decade.” His shoulders slumped, and he shot me a sheepish grin. “Sorry, not sorry.”

I rolled my eyes, lip twitching into a half-smile. “It sounds like you’ve come to the right place then. Grab a mat and pick a spot. I need to check everyone else in.”

I greeted the class before turning up my music and settling into easy pose.

Drew sat, front and center, on a baby pink mat.

Bringing awareness to my own breath, I noted it was faster than usual, my heartbeat elevated.

Taking another breath, I focused on relaxing.

Ignoring the handsome elephant in the room.

The first part of class went smoothly, everyone settling into their breathing and the gentle stretches we used to warm up. Drew followed along without incident.

“Push into your hands and pull your hips back, moving into your first down dog of the morning.”

Drew peered at his classmates before pushing up into a version of the pose. I approached him.

“May I touch you?” I asked. “I’d like to help you make some adjustments.”

“Yes.” He sounded breathless.

We’d barely finished our warm-up. Slowly, I placed a hand on his left hip.

“Pull back at the hips and bring your head between your forearms. Think of an inverted V.” He repositioned with my help, jutting his hips back.

Firm muscle shifted beneath my fingertips.

I recoiled hastily, too aware of his strength. “Good, good.”

He peeked between his arms to grin up at me, his smile endearing.

I’d never noticed before, but one front tooth was twisted, just a hair, enough to keep his grin warm and real instead of Hollywood-perfect.

Something about that crooked smile disarmed me, and my professional demeanor wavered as I noticed other tiny details about Drew.

The way his back and arms rippled with muscles.

The tiny mole near his elbow. How his firm glutes brushed my thigh.

That casual contact shouldn’t have felt electric, but it did. And I had permission to touch him.

Hastily, I distanced myself. He was a student. Nothing more.

I led the class through a vinyasa, flowing from down dog to plank and seal.

Drew followed, seeming to get more comfortable as class progressed.

He lacked the flexibility of my other students, but he made up for it in pure masculine grace.

Each arch and flex threatened to distract me from the next pose.

I mixed up right and left, flushing when one of my regulars corrected me.

“Sorry, everybody.”

Drew lingered after class, taking his time wiping down his mat and returning his yoga blocks to the shelves as I wished the rest of my students goodbye.

“So, what did you think?” I braced myself for a less-than-stellar review.

There was no way he’d suddenly decided to try yoga without an ulterior motive. Even if it was just to get Violet off his back for not using his gift certificate.

“That was a great way to start my morning. Thank you.” His deep voice radiated sincerity. He did look more relaxed. The tiny frown lines that made his face appear so serious had eased.

Pleasantly surprised, I grinned. “You’re very welcome.”

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee as an apology for waiting so long to try?”

“There’s no need to apologize, but I wouldn’t mind a cup. Did you want to walk down to Harbor Brews? I have an hour before my next class.”

A flash of something I couldn’t read distorted his features before he nodded.

I locked the front door, snuggling further into my fleece. The sun was up, but it was hidden behind a bank of clouds. Drew put a hand to my elbow as we picked our way across a section of sidewalk where the roots of a large tree had created cracks.

The morning ferry line was full. Cars waited for the first boat from Anacortes to arrive, its passengers to disembark, and for those on island to start their journey to the mainland.

The downtown eateries and coffee shops buzzed with activity as ferry riders grabbed a snack for the boat, and Harbor Brews was no different.

“Do you want a latte or a drip? How do you take your coffee?” Drew asked.

“Either is fine. I’m easy.”

He gave me a dark look. “Tell me what you want, Sunny Girl, so I can get it for you.”

I bit my bottom lip. He looked so serious. Like something as simple as my coffee preference mattered to him. Was this Drew’s idea of flirting? If so, it was surprisingly effective.

“A regular coffee with lots of cream and a sweetener sounds good this morning.”

“Grab a seat, and I’ll bring it to you.” He turned on his heel, striding for the counter, ignoring the lineup of people. He slid behind Zach and Isa, snagged two mugs and filled them from the carafe. He doctored each cup, returning with steaming mugs.

“I would have waited,” I said, feeling guilty he’d bypassed the line.

He shrugged, seeming immune to Zach’s glare and the handful of other patrons who’d raised brows when he acted like he owned the place. “It’s fine. Zach runs Harbor Brews. He’s family.”

I envied the way he took it for granted. That you could rely on family.

“What about everyone else waiting for their coffee?” I asked.

“When they’ve put up with Zach for thirty years, they can get free coffee too,” he promised, adding a broad grin.

The switch to playful from the usually serious man made me chuckle, shaking my head. “You seem to get along well.”

“Usually. So long as he keeps his flirting focused on his own dates.” He said it just as I sipped.

Coffee dribbled out of my mouth, my jaw slack. Hastily, I mopped the drops of dark liquid off my sweatshirt. Any shot I had at appearing cool had died, but I still put on a brave face. I arched a brow. “Is this a date?”

I didn’t know what I wanted the answer to be.

Some of my wariness had faded, watching him flow through poses this morning.

He was still too perceptive. But his earnestness was appealing.

There was a solidness to Drew that was reassuring.

Maybe it was the frowns. Trusting men who smiled was no longer my strong suit.

But Drew’s grouchy little brow furrows sent an unwilling flutter through my belly.

And for the first time I wondered—what would it be like to let someone see behind the lies?

What if, instead of turning away, he offered to help?

“Only if I’m doing it right.”

My pulse stuttered. I held his gaze, not letting the urge to smile betray me. “I’m not sure how swoony I find stealing coffee.”

“Meaning I need to steal something bigger to win you over?”

I rolled my eyes. What was it with men and size?

“I never took you as someone who embraced the criminal element, Mr. Search and Rescue.” That was part of his appeal. Drew seemed steady. Safe. But was a man ever really safe?

His dark eyes turned serious. “I know you’re teasing, but it’s less about that. Harbor Brews is as much mine as Island Salt is Zach’s. I’ve pitched in at the counter more than once.”

I tried to imagine him taking coffee orders.

Drew was downright verbose with me this morning.

Usually, he was gruff to the point of basic hand gestures.

I’d only heard his voice once or twice before our hiking misadventure.

It was difficult to reconcile the reclusive farmer with the dutiful brother who’d fake friendly to run the coffeehouse. But maybe duty was the key.

“I’ll do anything for the people I care about. I know where the line is. And I know who I’ll cross it for.”

His words echoed my thoughts eerily. They also brought up past regrets. Past mistakes. I’d crossed a line. An unforgivable one.

“Anyone who asks you to violate your principles isn’t showing you the same regard you show them.”

He seemed to be considering my words, rolling them around. He drew out the moment, sipping on his coffee.

“Honey, the whole point is you won’t need to ask.” His voice was throaty, his brown eyes soft.

Drew’s words felt eerily like a promise. I shifted in my seat, taking a large gulp of my coffee for strength. Something about his claim made me want to confess what had brought me to the island.

He exuded strength. Purpose. Stability. Things I craved like candy.

But was I drawn to the man or what he represented?

It wouldn’t be fair to cling to him like a barnacle if, at the end of the day, I was using him.

I’d been used, and he deserved better than that.

Better than my craptastic past landing in his present.

“What did you think of your first yoga class?” I moved to a safer topic.

He gave me a boyish grin that stretched his cheeks. His dark beard bracketed the smile, making his teeth blinding white in contrast. Damn it, even his smiles looked trustworthy.

“Surprisingly peaceful. Not sure why, but I expected more impossible feats of flexibility that would make me feel foolish. I’ve gotta admit, I feel good. Downright limber.”

“I’m glad.”

“But I might have to book with one of your other instructors in the future.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re a beautiful woman. Distracting as hell. If I’m going to focus on the four corners of my mat and my own body and breath, it’ll be a thousand times easier without you in the room.”

I balled up my napkin and pelted him with it. Better than admitting I mixed up my right and left sides with him in class. He shrugged and held up his hands in surrender.

“Why did you have to make it weird? Bad news for you, my other instructor is drop-dead gorgeous.”

He ran a hand through his hair, giving me a shame-faced grin. “Not a problem, because she won’t be you.”

It was possibly the most awkward compliment of my life.

“I don’t even know what to do with that,” I admitted.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to make it awkward. Sometimes I’m a little too honest, which is why I don’t tend to talk much.”

The honesty comment stung. I hadn’t even been truthful about my name. While it might be easy to trust him with my secrets, he didn’t deserve my mess. Even though part of me was aching to unburden myself, it wouldn’t be fair to him.

Disappointment curdled my stomach, turning the coffee into a bitter stew.

Wanting happiness and deserving it weren’t the same thing.

I couldn’t drop my problems at Drew’s door.

Couldn’t pretend they didn’t lurk like a monster in the closet, ready to snatch at my ankles if I drifted too close.

Drew wasn’t part of my past. It was best to keep it that way.

Which meant keeping him out of my present too.

“I appreciate the coffee and the compliments, but maybe it’s best if we just stay friends.”

His eyes flashed with what I read as disappointment, but he held his lips in the semblance of a smile. “Of course. Whatever you want.”

I was lying to him. Lying to myself. Because what I really wanted was to crawl into his lap, find the shelter I’d been craving, and spill my secrets. But if he knew the real me, he wouldn’t be impressed. And I couldn’t bear to have that spark of admiration die.

It was better to be his beautiful mystery than his up-close disaster.