Rebound (Tryst Island Series) by Sabrina York

Chapter One
    Kristi Cross set her heavy suitcase on the deck encircling the house and stared at the last trails of sunset shafting through the clouds and dancing on the darkening water of the horizon. She stilled, captured by the beauty, the peace, the perfection of the moment. She loved living in the Pacific Northwest, and this was why.
    It had been a long, frustrating day. She’d planned to spend it puttering in her shop, closing at four and heading out to the island for a weekend with friends. But no. Instead she’d wasted hours attempting to converse rationally with a city zoning-bot who wanted to make her funky, friendly neighborhood into an industrial complex. And then she’d endured more aggravation at the DMV trying to explain she was, in fact, who she was. And of course there was that trial of patience at the post office, standing behind a very charming elderly woman who insisted on paying for everything with pennies.  
    Which she counted out. One. At. A. Time.
    But this? This panoply? This glorious splay of color and nature and peace?  
    It made it all worth it.
    She was ready for a break from real life, thank you very much.
    And it had nothing to do with that nasty scene with Rolf this morning.  
    Truly. It didn’t.
    Besides, that relationship had been over long before she’d walked in on him fucking her best waitress in the storage room.
    There was no other word for what she’d witnessed. Fucking. Plain and simple.
    No doubt, she’d miss Savannah more than Rolf. He hadn’t exactly been present, only paying attention to her when he wanted sex. She should have dumped him months ago.  
    It was a pain in the ass being in a relationship all by yourself.
    The last gasp of sunlight winked out, and a velvet blanket draped itself over the horizon. Kristi couldn’t see it, but she could hear it, smell the sea. Her soul knew it was out there, vast and beautiful, constant and soothing. And that was enough.
    With a sigh, she picked up her suitcase and let herself into the back hallway of the vacation house she shared with a group of college buddies on an island nestled in Washington State’s San Juan archipelago. The island’s official name was Trystacomseh, after a long-dead Indian chief, but the locals called it Tryst Island for short. She didn’t get out here very often because her business, Beanie’s Book and Coffee, kept her tied to the counter. But after a day like today, she really needed it. She’d checked the online calendar and been ecstatic to find a spot open—this was a last-minute whim, and the house was completely booked on many weekends. There were only so many beds, after all. Lucy had agreed to cover her Saturday shift, so Kristi had packed a bag and headed over to the ferry terminal.
    Because her day was going the way it was, she’d missed the ferry. But she’d been able to catch a ride with Darby Britt, who’d been in Seattle stocking up on supplies for the bar.  
    In a perfect world, she would never have climbed into a boat with Darby. He drove like a demon escaping hell. But she’d needed the ride. And frankly, she’d enjoyed the feel of the wind whipping past, the tang of the sea spray and the sense she was jetting far and fast from the annoyances of her life.  
    Her hair would probably never be the same.
    She smoothed the tangled locks into what she hoped resembled a human configuration as she checked the white board on the wall by the back door, just to see who had signed in—and her pulse stalled.  
    Damn. Of course he’d have to be here. What were the odds?
    Kristi had had a mad crush on Cameron Jackson since her freshman year in college. Everything about him had drawn her, from his tall muscular form to the broad, friendly smile. He had a wicked sense of humor and could keep up with her snarky banter.  
    Of all the Dawgs, as they called themselves—the eleven souls who’d lived in McCarty Hall at the University of Washington and formed a bond while screaming at the