Page 18

Wren

Wren-ovation Project:

-Outdoor Yoga

I scribble another activity on my list of new things I plan to try over the next two weeks.

I thought about it a lot overnight, and the more I considered what to add, the more excited I became.

If this doesn’t turn out to be too torturous for me, I’ll probably keep adding to this list and finding things to do.

I can’t even remember the last time I looked forward to doing something and felt excited about it.

A little renovation is never a bad thing, right? It’s out with the old and in with the new—both somewhat intimidating concepts.

Pressing the pen to my lip, I release a breath. I’ve done yoga before and found it excellent for clearing my mind. However, if I’m going to do it outside, I’ll need to do so first thing in the morning before the heat and humidity make it unbearable. Not that the humidity ever goes away.

As I scan the list for something to try today—official day one of the Wren-ovation Project —my eyes linger on one I’ve always been interested in.

Photography

My phone camera is all I have, but it’s better than nothing. Phones these days have great cameras, anyway.

Quickly rinsing out the yellow mug, I place it in the dishwasher. It’s supposed to reach record highs today, so I grab my water bottle before slipping on my shoes.

It’s safe to say I have zero clue what I’m doing. I’ve seen videos before of people offering tips for taking the best photos, so I’ll just use that knowledge and hope for the best.

Right as I reach the front door, my phone vibrates to life in my hand. Swiping across the screen, I accept the incoming video call.

“Hey!” I greet when the feisty redhead pops up on my screen.

“Hey yourself.” Her auburn brows draw in. “Got a hot date or what?”

“What?” I laugh. “Why would you think that?”

“Because it’s early…and you’re dressed.”

My friend’s observation makes me laugh again. I’m usually one for lounging around in comfy clothes for as long as possible, especially on my days off.

I peer down at my tank top and shrug. “Nope. Just gonna go outside to take some pictures. Get a little sun while I’m out there, too.” I motion to my bare shoulders.

“Take pictures?” Her nose scrunches. “Why? What’s outside that you need pictures of?”

“Just tryin’ out some new hobbies,” I shrug again. “Thought I’d give this one a shot… Get it ?” I grin.

Indie rolls her eyes, and I know she wants to laugh. I’m always telling her corny jokes that she never finds funny.

Or so she likes to pretend.

“Cuz takin’ a photo is called a shot … The picture is?—”

“It’s not funny if you have to explain it, babe.”

“Are you developing a hatred for photography jokes now, Ind? They aren’t that hard to grasp, you just have to focus .”

She blinks a few times, remaining silent while I laugh at my own jokes.

“You know it’s okay to make camera jokes, right?”

Like a bloodhound on a trail, Indie knows what’s coming. Her eyes narrow. “Is it, Wren?”

“Yeah, cuz they disappear in a flash !” I double over laughing at the corny jokes my mind seems to absorb and retain like a sponge.

Indie stares at the screen, shaking her head, the tiniest smile tugging at her lips.

“Okay, moving on,” she lightly chuckles once my giggling fit fades. “I was gonna see if you could give me a hand reorganizing my workshop today. I’m guessin’ that’s out of the question?”

My first instinct is to cancel my plans and tell her, “ Yes, I’ll be there! ” But this is it—my first test at saying no to someone. I know Indie hates cleaning and just wants company while she pretends to do it. She doesn’t need me.

I take a deep breath, calming the nervous flutter in my stomach at the thought of disappointing her.

“Sorry… I can’t today.”

Turning down my friend is hard, and I feel the nausea begin to roll around in my stomach.

I remind myself that she doesn’t absolutely need my help with that. I’m worried I’ve upset her, but she doesn’t seem to mind at all.

“Okay. Well, use sunscreen. Gotta protect that cute little white ass of yours. Trust me, a sunburn there is not it.”

“Hey! Stop makin’ fun of my pasty rear end. We don’t all feel confident enough to sunbathe in our birthday suits.”

“Why not?” Her brows furrow through the small phone screen. “You live alone. Nobody’s gonna see you. And you’ve got nothin’ you need to hide anyway. If I were you, I’d be out on that back porch every mornin’ now that it’s warm.”

“Ind,” I sigh. “I’m not layin’ outside naked… I have neighbors. One of them’s my friend ,” I remind her.

“Precisely. Show him what he’s missin’.” Her brown eyes light up when her brows begin to wiggle.

“You’re ridiculous.” I laugh, shaking my head. “I’m not flashin’ my bottom at my brother’s best friend.”

“Why not? We both know he’d love it.” The playfulness of her tone keeps the mood light, but I wish she’d stop trying to push something to happen between Carson and me. I’ve told her before; he doesn’t see me that way.

I stare silently into the camera in response to her.

“Ugh,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “You two drive me crazy.”

Shaking my head and ignoring her comment, I motion over my shoulder. “I’m gonna get out there before it gets too hot. I’ll call you later. Oh, and Ind?”

“Yeah?”

“You should always keep a camera with you.”

Her brows knit together in suspicion. “… Why? ”

“So you don’t run out of pics … Get it? Cuz you play the guitar.” I laugh again.

Indie takes a deep breath and releases it, shaking her head with a smile. “Goodbye, dork.”

We hang up, and I slide my phone into my pocket. All jokes aside, I keep thinking about our conversation.

If I were brave, I’d do the things Indie says. I’d be bold and confident. I would put myself out there— really out there.

But I’m not. I’m too afraid of getting hurt or embarrassing myself. Again.

I’m not sure what Indie thinks she sees between Carson and me, but she’s clearly mistaken. My brother’s best friend— my friend —will always be just that, regardless of how I feel about him.

Walking down the red dirt road, I stop when I spot a turtle slowly crossing in front of me. When I try to zoom in, the image is too blurry and looks like a photo I might have taken on my old flip phone. I jog closer and crouch down to the ground.

“Hello, Mr. Turtle,” I greet calmly. “Are you ready to take some shell-fies ?”

The turtle pays me no attention as he continues his journey across the road. The view of the top of his brown shell isn’t the best, so I get lower, resting my knees on the rocky red dirt.

Keeping the rule of thirds in mind, I position him in the viewfinder as he creeps toward me, undeterred by my closeness. Every photo I snap seems good, but I keep following him to get a few more just to be sure. Every click feels like progress—toward something.

“There we go.”

When I stand up and open my gallery, the pictures are difficult to see with the sun shining down on my phone screen. “I’m sure you look great, Mr. Turtle.”

When I look back down at the ground, the turtle has made it to the side of the road and is now trekking into someone’s yard.

My eyes dart to the house, and I recognize it right away.

I didn’t realize I had already walked this far.

Carson’s place isn’t too far or anything, but it’s still quite a bit farther than I intended to go just to snap a few photos.

Just as I start to turn around in search of things to photograph that are a bit closer to home, a cluster of purple flowers halts me in my tracks. A light breeze picks up, carrying the sweet, calming aroma toward me.

“Perfect,” I whisper, taking the few additional steps toward the entrance of Carson’s house.

After adjusting the settings and angling for the best lighting, I take a few different pictures of the flowers lining the path to his front door.

I swear it’s like a pathway made especially for me.

As I get lost in the various angles and filters on my phone, I don’t notice when Carson walks up beside me.

“Hey, Tink.”

I jump back, a hand flying over my racing heart.

“Hey!” I smile, itching to reach out and hug him, but I know he doesn’t like being touched.

“What are you doin’ to my flowers?” he asks, eyes squinting at my phone.

“What you told me to. I’m tryin’ out new hobbies.” I turn the screen with the photo I just took toward him.

A slow smile spreads across his face as he looks back up at me. “Good girl, Tink.”

The breath in my lungs hitches, leaving me feeling suddenly dizzy.

What in the ever-loving heck just happened to my insides?

“Woah.” Carson reaches for my arm as I begin to sway. “Here, come inside. It’s hot out.”

Without a fight, I follow him down the path that smells like heaven on Earth.

“Out here in the shade is fine,” I say, gesturing toward the porch swing on his covered front patio.

“You sure? We can go inside. I have the air runnin’.” The concern coating his features tugs at my heartstrings.

“Yeah, this is fine. I just need some water and to sit for a few.”

He nods, eyeing the water in my hand. “I’ll be right back.”

Before I’ve even pulled the bottle from my mouth, he’s back with a large glass of ice water.

“Here,” he says, pushing the glass toward me. “Drink this.”

I do as he says and take a sip of the cold beverage. The icy water flows smoothly down into my stomach. It’s both refreshing and delicious.

“Thank you,” I say, placing the glass back into his waiting hand.

Carson sets the drink on the wicker table beside us and then sits down next to me.

Neither of us says anything. I’m not really sure if I’m that dehydrated, but for the sake of avoiding embarrassment, I’ll play this off a bit longer.

The fact that he called me a “good girl” and that it possibly made me light-headed isn’t something anyone else needs to know.

“So you like it, huh?” Carson finally breaks the silence.

A fresh wave of heat washes over my cheeks at being discovered. “Uh… I—well—I just— What was the question again? ”

“Photography,” he clarifies with a smirk, pointing to the phone that rests on my lap.

“Oh! Right. Yes… The hobby. Really loving it so far. Yeah… Good list. Well done.”

Jesus, someone please just put a sock in my mouth and tape it shut.

“Can I see them?” His tone is flat, and my mind still clearly is not in the right place as I stare at him with an open mouth, like a dumb deer entranced by headlights, too stupid to move out of the way.

“The pictures you took, Wren,” he smirks. “Can I see the pictures ?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” I press a hand to my forehead. “This sun is just gettin’ to me today.” I hand my phone over, and he quickly opens it to the gallery, scrolling through the few photos I took today.

His breathing changes as he swiftly locks the phone and returns it to me.

He clears his throat before he speaks. “They’re good.”

What in the world just happened? One second he was totally fine and then?—

Oh. No.

“That was the new swimsuit I was gonna buy.” The heat radiating from my cheeks could roast a marshmallow. “I needed another opinion, so I sent it to Ind and Luce.”

He nods. “Well, they’re good pictures.”

Oh. My. God.

He’s only talking about the turtles and flowers, Wren. Get a grip! He did not just compliment your swimsuit photo.

It’s not like he’s never seen me in a swimsuit before. This just feels a lot more intimate.

“Are they?” I ask, trying my best to mask how the idea of him seeing my yellow bikini photo affects me. Thank goodness that was the only kind of photo I had in there. “I haven’t seen any of them yet. My screen was too dark to see out there in the sunlight.”

“I like ‘em. Think you found your hobby?” he asks, his deep, ocean-blue eyes watching for my reply.

“Maybe,” I shrug. “I was havin’ a lot of fun with it, but I still wanna try some other things.”

“Good. What do you think you’ll try next?” He leans back against the swing and starts to sway us. My eyes trace the bare skin of his arms, which are covered in tattoos—none of them in color.

“Umm…” I think back to the list on my kitchen table. Carson wrote quite a few things, and I added just as many since we parted ways.

“I don’t know. Maybe go try to catch a fish,” I respond. He probably thought I’d scratch that one off, but I’m feeling adventurous and up for anything.

“Really?” He laughs in surprise. “Did you call your brother?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I figured I’d try out my friend’s pond.”

He lets out another laugh, creases forming near his eyes as he smiles at me. “Did you now?”

“Sure did,” I state matter-of-factly.

“Well, your friend would definitely enjoy doin’ that one with you at his pond. Why don’t you save it for this weekend so he can join you?”

A summertime weekend when Carson’s off work and isn’t out on the water simply doesn’t exist. I’ve known this for a long time.

“Okay. I’d rather have someone there to touch the worms anyway,” I admit.

“Oh, I’m not baitin’ the hook for you. That’s part of the experience. What if you ever wanna go out alone? Do you expect the worm to just jump on the hook himself?” He cocks a dark brow at me.

I let out a sigh. “You’re right… Maybe I should skip that one after all,” I confess.

“It’s not that bad. I’m sure you’ve touched way worse things bein’ a nurse. If you can handle blood and other bodily parts and fluids, you can handle a little worm, Wren.”

Images from my nights working in the emergency room come to mind.

Yeah… A worm would be a piece of cake compared to the things I went through working there.

I let out another frustrated sigh, “ Fiiiine … I’ll try.”

“Good girl,” he says again, patting my knee and looking back toward the road.

And thank the good Lord he does, or he’d see my body’s stupid reaction to him calling me that.

“I better get back home,” I finally say, standing from the swing and grabbing my hot water bottle from the seat.

Before Carson moves, I open my camera and snap one more picture of him as he peers out into the distance, his jet black hair swept back just right, with one loose piece falling forward.

“Hey,” he scowls. “Delete that.”

“Never,” I retort, tucking the phone into my pocket.

“You think I won’t go in there and get it?” He raises a brow in question.

Holy crow.

My insides are turning to jelly, and he hasn’t even done a dang thing. He’s made a few innocent comments that my sex-starved body has taken the wrong way.

“You—”

“Just promise you won’t show it to anyone… or print it .”

I nod as the flurry of butterflies in my belly returns to their resting positions.

“I’ll drive you home. Wait right there.” He quickly stands and jogs into the house.

“Carse, it’s right down the street. I should be?—”

It’s too late, though. Before I even finish the sentence, he’s back with keys in one hand, while the other waves me toward the truck.