Page 3 of Summer Love

“It’s fine, Cole,” Evan says without turning around. “I know her.”

I loosen my hold. The second officer eases his hand off his pistol grip, but his wary eyes stay on me.

“Sorry…” I stammer. “Do I have to call you Officer Carter now?”

My cheeks burn. Evan studies me for a second, then a smile flickers across his face and he swallows it right back.

“No, no… Flat tire?”

“Obviously. Had to spice up the trip somehow.”

“You try to change it?”

“I tried to get the jack under the car. Does that count?”

This time, he gives me a brief smile.

“What are you doing here, Summer?”

Simple question. Simple answer.

“I’m here for my grandparents’ house. The sale’s dragging, so I came to see for myself. Two weeks, tops. Then I’m gone.”

My internship just ended. The extension they offered me doesn’t start until mid-August. In between: three weeks. Two to handle the sale. One to catch my breath before going back to work.

Evan nods, silent. His eyes linger on me a second too long, and I sense a question in them he doesn’t ask.

“As for your car,” he says, “I’ll call a tow truck first thing tomorrow. It’ll be fine here tonight. Want us to drop you somewhere?”

“The lodge, please.”

I grab my bag from the trunk and settle into the back of the police car. It smells like leather and cold coffee. The seat is hard, no headrest. There’s a grille between me and the front seats.

I buckle the seatbelt. I’m not under arrest. Just stranded, with a sworn cop for a chauffeur.

But it’s still strange.

Evan takes the passenger seat, turns halfway toward me and watches me through the grille. His partner drives. The dash radio crackles—distant voices, codes I don’t understand.

“Is Yumi still at the lodge?” I ask.

“Yeah. But she’s starting to talk about stepping back. That’s not like her.”

“What about Luke? Still working at his parents’ store?”

“At the Market, yeah. He took it over last year.”

I nod. Luke DeLuca, with his brown curls, his gold chain, and the smile that put everyone at ease. At ten he was already helping out in that grocery store, between sessions at the skatepark.

“And Miles?”

“Bartender now.”

“Is that… what he wanted?”

Evan shrugs.

“It’s Miles. He always acts like everything’s fine, so it’s hard to tell.”