Scotty had to admit the day was going better than he’d hoped. They were having a great time. Well, he was and, judging by his smiles, so was Preston.
They’d had a lunch of fish and chips and beer, and they’d been cruising the shops on the embarcadero ever since. The afternoon was gloriously sunny, but not too warm. A day like this was exactly why he planned on living in Morro Bay someday.
“So, how often do you come here?” Preston asked as they exited a shop of colorful kites and flags.
“It’s been a while, actually. But before I left for New York I used to come pretty often. Three or four times a year.”
Preston glanced up at the sky, his expression nonchalant. “With somebody?”
Scotty smiled a little. “Once with a guy, yeah. And twice with a female friend. But most of the time just me.
