Free Meeting Miss Mystic by Katy Regnery Page A

like this about someone two thousand miles away.
    All of these concerns were quietly irrelevant as she let her eyes flutter closed, curling up onto her side, deeply certain of one thing:
    It was possible, because Zoë was falling for Paul.

Chapter 5
    Over the ensuing weeks the summer weather changed appreciably. The early-September mornings were a good deal chillier, which Paul welcomed, looking forward to the excitement of fall and the school year ahead. Unbelievably, next Tuesday was the first day of school.
    Generally this time of year was galvanizing for Paul as he reviewed class lists and curriculums, communicated with his teachers about new policies passed down from the Gardiner Board of Education, and took a special interest in finding community volunteers to help with the rich roster of extracurricular activities that had helped to make Gardiner High the most highly rated high school in the state.
    This year was different. While Paul still reviewed the policies, class lists and curriculum, his head wasn’t as “in the game” as it had been in years past; it was thousands of miles away in the salty-smelling air of late-summer Mystic which captured his attention at all hours of the day.
    Without realizing it, Paul had re-structured his life around the moments he “spent” with Holly. He would wake up in the morning, shower, shave, get dressed, make himself a cup of coffee and take his laptop out to the porch swing where they’d had their first phone conversation. He kept a fleece jacket by the back door and threw it on every morning lately, settling into the swing, with Cleo, and starting his days writing a “Good Morning” message to Holly.
    They had settled into a routine of sorts: there was a message waiting for him every morning as Holly started her day writing him a little something: a short message about what she’d be up to that day or what she was looking forward to tomorrow. She told him about the book she was reading and somehow convinced him to read it too. They talked about how they both went to college in Rhode Island, and she’d tell him about Mystic while he gave her a good education on Yellowstone.
    Sometimes, he noticed, though not often, her spirits dipped. She’d write less than usual and complain about the heat of the Connecticut dog days of late summer, or make a general philosophical reference to life not turning out like she expected. He liked her all the more for these glimpses into her personality. He liked getting to know the woman behind the beautiful girl. He wanted to know everything about her and he marveled at how open and real she was in their communications.
    And, he thought smiling, she always ended on a positive note, making him laugh with a well-written observation or gently poking fun at herself.
    Paul would sip his coffee, picturing Mystic as best as he could remember it from the one or two times he’d visited: the cobblestoned streets of the seaside village with an ancient harbor and tall ships. He’d picture her taking walks around the harbor in her white sundress, mentally wishing away the men who’d stop and smile at his Holly. Then he’d write back to her, sharing his plans to take a hike in Yellowstone or head up to the Target in Bozeman for start-of-year supplies.
    And though he knew that much of their fledgling relationship was based on a certain amount of fantasy, he couldn’t deny or explain the growing longing for her, to have her closer, to touch her face and hold her hand and watch the sun turn her blonde hair gold. He’d known Holly for exactly a month, exchanged almost a hundred e-mails and texts back and forth and talked on the phone a handful times; how she managed to brush her fingers tenderly across his heart again and again, from ten states away, was a mystery to Paul. But being away from her was starting to distract him, frustrate him, the first excitement of finding her tempering itself now against the yearning he felt to have her physically