Chapter 4 - Brent
The sky was painted in pastel colors—the sun not quite clearing the horizon of the mountains and cliffs behind Harris Cove.
I sat on my balcony, sipping my coffee. Part of me wished I lived on the side of the building facing the ocean, but at least the eastern wall view was pretty in the morning. Shadows danced along it as light spilled over the top but couldn't reach into crevices or under obstructions.
I let out a long, relieved sigh. Graduation had been the day before, which meant that although I had a bit of cleanup to do in my classroom, I was free of teenage students for three months.
I still had my computing basics class at the community college, but it was one session a week, and the average age of my students there was probably around sixty. While that came with its own set of issues, the respite from teenage angst was something I would enjoy.
The sun started to peek over the horizon as I finished my coffee, and I decided it was time to get going.
I headed in and snagged a zippered hoodie.
I retrieved a book from my nightstand, then grabbed my beach bag from where it sat next to my closet.
I made sure my towel and swim trunks were in it, added my book, slid my feet into flip-flops, and started toward the door.
I had my hand on the handle before I remembered that I hadn’t grabbed anything to drink. I set the bag down, went into the kitchen, and added ice and water to an insulated bottle. Then I headed to the door again.
Bag? Check. Water? Check. Book? Check. Hoodie? Check.
Mental checks complete, I left my apartment and moseyed out to my car.
A chill fog clung to the ground, and I savored it. It would be scorching soon enough, but the sea kept it cool and foggy in the morning. Luckily, it wasn’t thick enough to cause problems while driving.
Traffic at that time of morning was always strange.
The breakfast waitstaff were already at work and preparing to open, but there were plenty of cars on the road.
Delivery trucks bearing foodservice logos attempted to back into alleys or park along the street.
Others idled as drivers loaded boxes onto hand-trucks for small deliveries.
The road leading to the hospital was busy as people headed in for shift change.
City crews cleaned the streets and emptied sidewalk trash bins.
There was a line of honking cars waiting to pull into the beach parking lot. After waiting for a couple of minutes, I craned my neck to see if I could see what was causing the holdup, and it looked like somebody in a pickup truck was stopped at the entrance.
The person holding up the line finally pulled forward, and we all moved as regular flow resumed.
I picked a spot toward the middle of the lot rather than fight for prime parking when I didn’t have anything heavy to carry.
A line of people had formed at the pay kiosk, and I was glad that I’d paid for an annual pass as I walked toward the beach.
Beachcombers taking advantage of low tide pulled metal detectors, buckets, and shovels from trunks. Surfers inspected their gear on the open tailgates of their trucks, while photographers bundled against the chill schlepped tripods and camera bags down the path.
I waved to familiar faces as I walked: a former student who’d become a lifeguard and would have to report on surf conditions in less than an hour, a retired history teacher who liked to walk her dog along the beach in the mornings.
A landscape artist who focused on the ocean called my name and held up his paintbrush in greeting.
I meandered over to where several beach acquaintances were setting out towels and found my spot among them.
We’d formed a loose group over the years, and we looked out for each other.
One was a yoga teacher who sometimes led an informal session with anybody who wanted to join.
Others would form small walking groups, while some just liked to enjoy the mornings and chat.
“Morning Brent,” said a young woman who was a regular in the group.
“Morning, Rosie. What’s on your agenda today?”
“I think I’m gonna see if Cole is going to do a yoga session. If not, then I’ll probably walk for a bit. What about you?”
“I’ll probably chat for a while, then catch a later round of walkers.”
“Cool.” She paused and looked around. “Was there anybody selling food in the parking lot when you got here?”
“Not that I saw.”
She looked around again, made a face, and plopped on the sand. “Damn.”
I blinked and scanned the beach. “I see the burrito lady’s umbrella.”
“Eh… Maybe in a few more minutes. You missed it last weekend, but there was somebody selling pastries from the trunk of his car. I got a killer danish, and they had a ham, egg, and cheese sandwich on homemade croissants. I was hoping to see him again.”
“Well, hopefully you will. I think I’m going to get a burrito before she runs out.”
“I’ll watch your towel.”
“Thanks.”
I strode over to where a small line of people had lined up to buy burritos, secured my breakfast, then returned to my towel. I returned the favor of watching Rosie’s things as she went out to check the parking lot, and she was elated when she returned with her pastries.
We ate and chatted as more people trickled over, then she moved her towel as Cole started an informal yoga session.
I laid back on my towel and closed my eyes to savor the experience.
A breeze carried the sound and scent of the water against the sand.
Gulls called overhead. Behind me came the rising din of an awakening city: horns as traffic backed up, voices bounced from concrete and brick, music and machinery vied for the label of background noise.
“Book chat,” somebody announced.
I got up and moved my towel to join in. The fog burned off as we chatted about our recent reads, and about half of us were ready for a walk once the discussion was done.
It was just the kind of morning I’d needed to decompress after the last week of school.
The sun had climbed high in the sky by the time our walk was over, my hoodie tied around my waist since it was too warm to wear.
A good portion of our group had drifted away as the morning progressed, and as I looked around the increasingly crowded beach, I decided that it was time for me to leave, too.
I thought about where I wanted to go for lunch as I packed my things and said my farewells, then I started back towards my car.
I could stop at one of the licensed food trucks in the parking lot… or…
I froze as I smelled something absolutely incredible. But it wasn’t food.
Omega…
Then something deep inside roared to life.
Mine…
My cock twitched, and my breathing quickened. I turned, looking around to see if I could find him.
People came and went, and his scent was already fading. I noted where I was and walked in a circle around it, but I couldn’t find it again.
I scanned faces. Had he scented me? Would I know him by sight?
Had he just arrived? Had he gone toward the parking lot and was already gone?
The wind wasn’t helping as the ocean breeze fought the heat pushing back from the city. If it was at least consistent, I could use it as a guide.
I widened my search, but his scent was gone. I looked around one more time, but nobody stuck out in the sea of faces.
I let out a long sigh as I gave up. Given the shifting winds, it was just as likely that he’d left as it was that he was there. I could end up just wasting my time if I stayed. People were coming and going too fast even if I did walk the beach.
I slumped and trudged to my car.
I just had to hope that fate wouldn’t let me down. I’d scented him. I knew he was in town.
There had to be other chances to meet…
Right?