Page 19 of The Beach Shack
“You’re the last person I expected to see in Tyler’s kitchen,” Meg admitted.
“Likewise.” His gaze swept over her corporate attire—pencil skirt, silk blouse (now stained), hair pulledback in a neat bun. “Though Tyler mentioned you’d gone full corporate up in San Francisco.”
Meg felt herself bristling at the implied criticism. “Some of us had ambitions beyond teaching tourists to stand on surfboards.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Luke didn’t flinch, but something in his eyes cooled—just a touch.
“Fair enough,” he said lightly. “Though for the record, I run a marine conservation program now. The surf lessons just help fund the research.”
She didn’t mean it the way it sounded. She’d been feeling guilty about her own ambitions, actually. Embarrassment washed over her. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
Luke shrugged, the ease of the gesture somehow making her feel worse. “No worries. First cup of coffee, unexpected reunion... bound to be a little awkward.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Meg returned to blotting her blouse while Luke leaned against the counter, looking perfectly at home in Tyler’s space.
“I missed Margo’s birthday,” he said finally. “Had to cover an emergency shift at the surf school. Did she like the shell I found her?”
Meg looked up, surprised. “The iridescent one? That was from you?”
“Found it at Crystal Cove last month. Knew it would fit perfectly in her ceiling mosaic.” There wasgenuine affection in his voice when he spoke about Margo. “Eleanor said she’d deliver it for me.”
“She loved it,” Meg said, remembering her grandmother’s delighted expression. “Said she knew exactly where it belonged.”
Luke smiled, and for a moment, Meg glimpsed the enthusiastic instructor she’d known—kind, passionate about the ocean, with an ability to find joy in simple things that she’d once found both baffling and magnetic.
“So,” he said, nodding toward the bag he’d brought. “Breakfast burrito? Figured Tyler would be hungry after shooting the dawn patrol, but since he’s apparently in Australia...”
Meg hesitated, then nodded. “Actually, yes. Thank you.”
Luke unpacked the food—two burritos wrapped in foil, still warm from the cafe down the street. “Brought Tyler his usual,” he said, setting them on the counter. “But since he’s apparently in Australia...”
“I’ll take it off your hands,” Meg said.
Luke grinned. “Tyler’s going to be so disappointed he missed out on his breakfast burrito. I might never hear the end of it.”
“I’ll tell him I saved him from the calories,” Meg replied, unwrapping the burrito.
As she took a bite, she was pleasantly surprised—perfectly spiced eggs, avocado, and something that gave it an unexpected kick of flavor.
“Good?” Luke asked, unwrapping his own.
“Really good. Tyler has excellent taste in breakfast food.”
As they ate, Luke asked about Tyler.
“Tyler usually goes to Australia two or three times a year for underwater photography gigs,” Luke said, mercifully changing the subject. “Always planned months in advance. Must be serious if he left so suddenly.”
“He wasn’t exactly forthcoming with details,” Meg replied. “Just said it was an emergency and Margo needed help.”
“That’s Tyler. Five-word texts, max. Usually with no punctuation. But he has been getting calls at odd hours lately. International numbers.”
Luke took another bite of his burrito, studying her. “I’m surprised he called you instead of Anna.”
“Anna is in Florence. Some art fellowship she’s been trying to get for years.”
“Ah, right. She mentioned applying again last time she visited.” Luke seemed to know more about what had been happening with Meg’s family while she’d been away, which was both irritating and oddly comforting.
“Since when do you and my brother hang out?” Meg couldn’t help asking. “You weren’t exactly friends when I left.”
