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from Return to Sandy Shores by Shirley Holder Platt

Copyright © 2019 Shirley Holder Platt

Chapter 11 - Sam

I drove all day to get to Sandy Shores before dark. It’s about a six-hour drive from Houston. It was a good thing it was summer and the days were very long. I stopped in Corpus Christi to get gas, stretch my legs, and to have lunch from a favorite seafood restaurant that has take-out. I hadn’t thought much about having a cat in the car with all that fishy smell. The pheromone spray that Hot Doctor Trent sold me had been working until I got in the car with my fish sandwich. Sally wanted me to share, and she made it quite obvious. I broke down and gave her some of the fish then said a silent prayer that she wouldn’t get sick. I had only fed her dry kitty kibble before, so this felt risky. I couldn’t stand her pitiful meowing. I know, I’m weak, a terrible pet parent.

My eyes were voluntarily closing as I drove down the long, flat highway, so I cranked the music up and blasted my face with cold air from the air conditioner. For a few miles after I fed Sally, she meowed along with my singing. But the roar of tires on pavement sent her back to dreamland where I longed to be before long. Every time I thought about Doc. Jensen, or Trent, I’d get embarrassed all over again. Was he flirting with me? What did he mean when he said we might run into each other again? Was he thinking I might be hanging out in Brownsville looking for him? He was a hottie and all, but he’d have to be pretty cocky to think I’d go searching for him. And how would I do that anyway? Brownsville is a big city, almost two hundred thousand people live there. The odds were not in my favor. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. To get my mind off Doctor Hot Stuff, I used the Bluetooth in my car to call Vee.

“Hey,” she said. I swear I could hear the smile in her voice. “Where you at?”

“Kingsville.”

“Is that named after the King Ranch?”

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