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“Hey! Daydreamer, you missed the ball!” Rob curses me as I realize the football has sailed over my head. I jog over towards it and am distracted again when I notice a woman sitting alone in a complex yoga pose. Her long hair flows down her back, straight, wild, free, and shimmering like the lake in the afternoon sun. I can’t tear my eyes away from her, or her long lean limbs, like those of a dancer. She’s muscular and curvy, and the golden glow of her tanned skin radiates in the light. Despite her expensive coordinating yoga outfit, camera, and tripod equipment, she exudes a hippie naturalist vibe.
I don’t know what her story is, but as I watch her move from a seated meditation pose, to a standing tree pose, at least I think it’s called that, my cock stirs to life, and I take an unconscious step towards her.
“Whoa there, fella. Where are you going?”
“Huh?”
Turning, I see Rob pick up the football from the ground next to me and glance back at the woman. “She’s too curvy for me. I like my women petite and delicate.”
“You’re an idiot.” I scoff at Rob. That woman has curves in all the right places, and in a different scenario, I’d be interested.
Chapter Three
Mady
After my morning yoga session, I head into the cabin and changed into a sundress. The satiny soft cotton blend slithers over my body and makes me feel sexy despite my growing curves. And increasing exhaustion.
At sixteen weeks my belly is pronounced, but isn’t obviously a pregnancy belly yet. Bending over to strap on my sandals takes my breath away, and I flop back across the bed to inhale. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to be here with him, M, my ex. I’m not sad that he’s not here though. I don’t miss ‘him’ at all. I miss companionship. I wish I was experiencing the beauty of this land with someone important.
I have no desire to date or find a man, but if I do, the universe is going to have to find a way to let me know he’s the one.
Running my hand over my belly, I stare up at the wooden beamed ceiling and drift off to sleep waking an hour later to the sound of my own snoring. Jeez. Sexy. I roll my eyes and my body up from the bed and exit the cabin in search of adventure.
Outside the cabin I walk along the lake’s western edge and smile at the various canoes and paddle boats. A gentle breeze blows off the water carrying the sounds of laughter and camaraderie. Continuing along the trail I pass the main lodge and follow more sounds of laughter and music I discover the source. The back lawn is resplendent in primary color from circus like banners and balloons.
“Sign up now. Ladies and Gentleman, sign up now for the monthly lawn games competition. All winners get a prize and their name published on our Wall of Fame. Are you the fastest? Come test your skills!”
A pimply teenager stands proud on a platform with a megaphone calling passersby over.
“I feel like I’m at a carnival.” I say to no one in particular while watching people of all ages and walks of life register to play.
“Well pretty lady, are you going to join us today?” The teenager calls out to me, goading me to join.
“No, no. Just here to watch.” I wave him off and step aside for others to sign-up.
“Aw, the pretty lady is scared. Ladies and Gentlemen, the more the merrier. Am I right?
The crowd laughs and cheers.
“Does the pretty lady need a partner?”
“Rub it in why don’t you?” I laugh back, but it’s a low blow.
“I’ll be her partner.” A low baritone voice steps up beside me and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“What?!” I whip around to see a gorgeous hunk of a man with solid bulging muscles in preppy golf clothes beside me, and when our eyes meet the carnival themed lawn games disappear.
I absolutely adore a man in a polo top and plaid shorts. Especially a muscular man with the hint of a farmer’s tan and strong working hands. His white baseball cap, sunglasses, expensive watch, and golf cleats complete the visual and remind me of my brothers.
Without looking I just know he has a round muscular for ass. The kind I can really grab and sink my teeth into. Hey, I may have been living the hippie can life for the past couple years, but I appreciate a healthy male physique.
“I, uh, thanks but… I, uh, don’t know you.” I stutter my words.
Leaning towards me and speaking low so that a couple standing near us can’t hear, he says, “I don’t know you either, but I recognize you from yoga this morning by the lake, and I think the two of us could win this thing.”
“You do, um, recognize me?” Why am I stuttering?
“Yes, sorry, I just recognized you now and walked over to see what the fuss was here. And yes, we got this. What do you say?”
