room.
“Oh, no. It’s cozy . . . and again, thank you so much for your hospitality.”
“Sean, you’re on the couch. Hope you don’t mind.”
“At least it’s a big comfy couch. Thanks! I can crash almost anywhere,” Sean replied as he threw himself onto the sofa.
“Well . . . you’ve seen it all. Help yourself to whatever you need and if you can’t find something just feel free to dig around. There aren’t many places to hide things in this house.”
Meg was feeling the jet lag. They had just wrapped up a three-month tour a couple of days before and she was looking forward to staying put in one location for a while. “I think I’ll get settled in, wash up and go to bed. Good night.”
“Good night,” both Trace and Sean chimed in.
CHAPTER THREE
Meg stepped out onto the deck and stealthily slid the patio door closed. After she sat on the steps and tied her running shoes she headed south down the beach on a morning run. Not too fast, she thought. Not used to running on sand, she didn’t want to turn an ankle. Meg was looking forward to this gig at the San Diego Dance Institute. For six weeks she and Sean would be teaching workshops and coordinating a showcase. They would be the featured dancers but would also be organizing the Institute’s advanced students to participate too. It was a great opportunity in more ways than one. Not only professionally, but finally she had a chance to settle down for a while—even if it was only temporarily.
Meg had been a gypsy for years. She’d dreamed of being a professional dancer since she was twelve years old. That was when her teachers first recognized how much talent was wrapped up in her tiny body. All through high school she periodically missed weeks of school at a time as she auditioned and toured in various shows.
She ended up graduating from high school through a home school program and earned a scholarship to the dance program at NYU’s Tisch School for the Arts. That’s where she met Sean Morgan.
From the start they just clicked. Both contemporary dancers, they had a deep love and respect for all forms of dance and loved to incorporate bits and pieces of them all in their choreography and freestyle pieces. While most of their peers were devoted to their various disciplines with no interest in broadening their horizons, Meg and Sean thrived on doing just that. They partnered up almost immediately and never looked back. Their style was unconventional and eclectic, but fun—both for them and their audiences. The duo started touring and performing together in college and had never stopped. They had developed a reputation as a highly sought after choreography team as well.
In the past few years their schedule had picked up to a neck-breaking speed. This was the first time Meg could remember that she would spend six weeks in one place. She had been craving that for some time now, so when Sean approached her with this offer, she jumped at the chance. He had an old friend at the SDDI who had contacted him but he wasn’t as keen on the idea as she was. She had finally persuaded him to take the gig. So here she was. She planned to enjoy every minute of it.
When Claire, Sean and Trace’s mom, had suggested they stay with Trace—if he were going to be in town—or at least at his house—if he were deployed—Meg thought that would be too good to be true. But it had all worked out, so she was in heaven. Then she saw the cute little cottage on the beach and she had to pinch herself. She was going to be the best houseguest ever so Trace wouldn’t regret opening his home to her and Sean.
Meg turned around to head north back up toward Trace’s house. It was still really early. She had passed only one man out walking with his dog. The dog was mostly chasing seagulls, though, instead of walking.
As she jogged along she reflected on Trace. He was pretty much what she expected—strong, quiet, brave, good looking. And he was more than she expected.
“Oh, no. It’s cozy . . . and again, thank you so much for your hospitality.”
“Sean, you’re on the couch. Hope you don’t mind.”
“At least it’s a big comfy couch. Thanks! I can crash almost anywhere,” Sean replied as he threw himself onto the sofa.
“Well . . . you’ve seen it all. Help yourself to whatever you need and if you can’t find something just feel free to dig around. There aren’t many places to hide things in this house.”
Meg was feeling the jet lag. They had just wrapped up a three-month tour a couple of days before and she was looking forward to staying put in one location for a while. “I think I’ll get settled in, wash up and go to bed. Good night.”
“Good night,” both Trace and Sean chimed in.
CHAPTER THREE
Meg stepped out onto the deck and stealthily slid the patio door closed. After she sat on the steps and tied her running shoes she headed south down the beach on a morning run. Not too fast, she thought. Not used to running on sand, she didn’t want to turn an ankle. Meg was looking forward to this gig at the San Diego Dance Institute. For six weeks she and Sean would be teaching workshops and coordinating a showcase. They would be the featured dancers but would also be organizing the Institute’s advanced students to participate too. It was a great opportunity in more ways than one. Not only professionally, but finally she had a chance to settle down for a while—even if it was only temporarily.
Meg had been a gypsy for years. She’d dreamed of being a professional dancer since she was twelve years old. That was when her teachers first recognized how much talent was wrapped up in her tiny body. All through high school she periodically missed weeks of school at a time as she auditioned and toured in various shows.
She ended up graduating from high school through a home school program and earned a scholarship to the dance program at NYU’s Tisch School for the Arts. That’s where she met Sean Morgan.
From the start they just clicked. Both contemporary dancers, they had a deep love and respect for all forms of dance and loved to incorporate bits and pieces of them all in their choreography and freestyle pieces. While most of their peers were devoted to their various disciplines with no interest in broadening their horizons, Meg and Sean thrived on doing just that. They partnered up almost immediately and never looked back. Their style was unconventional and eclectic, but fun—both for them and their audiences. The duo started touring and performing together in college and had never stopped. They had developed a reputation as a highly sought after choreography team as well.
In the past few years their schedule had picked up to a neck-breaking speed. This was the first time Meg could remember that she would spend six weeks in one place. She had been craving that for some time now, so when Sean approached her with this offer, she jumped at the chance. He had an old friend at the SDDI who had contacted him but he wasn’t as keen on the idea as she was. She had finally persuaded him to take the gig. So here she was. She planned to enjoy every minute of it.
When Claire, Sean and Trace’s mom, had suggested they stay with Trace—if he were going to be in town—or at least at his house—if he were deployed—Meg thought that would be too good to be true. But it had all worked out, so she was in heaven. Then she saw the cute little cottage on the beach and she had to pinch herself. She was going to be the best houseguest ever so Trace wouldn’t regret opening his home to her and Sean.
Meg turned around to head north back up toward Trace’s house. It was still really early. She had passed only one man out walking with his dog. The dog was mostly chasing seagulls, though, instead of walking.
As she jogged along she reflected on Trace. He was pretty much what she expected—strong, quiet, brave, good looking. And he was more than she expected.