Page 24 of Paging Dr. Summers

So, why had this strange younger woman I’d only known since Monday infiltrated my thoughts and senses? Why did I want to punch Jake in the throat?

Maybe it had something to do with how adorable she was, holding Sophie’s hand at the moment and whispering out the side of her mouth for intel on what she’d heard me say about her. Maybe it was her passion for music and how her soul seemed to resonate with every word of every song, offering her a unique way to touch people’s lives. Or perhaps it was how she made me feel unsettled, yet alive, after feeling numb for so long. Whatever it was, it irresistibly drew me to her.

“Are you sure you don’t want a cute strawberry painted on your chiseled cheek?” Brooke taunted as she peeked at me.

“Do it, Uncle Logan,” Sophie joined in.

The two women operating the booth snickered.

“I think I’ll sit this one out.”

“Fine, but I’m not letting you off the hook when we make strawberry charm bracelets.”

“If I must,” I faux grumbled. Part of me was kicking myself for refusing the face painting, but if I started agreeing to Brooke’s every whim, I would have no hope of resisting her charm in the long run.

“You must.” Brooke took the offered mirror so she could see the artist’s handiwork. She delicately touched each strawberry as if they were precious to her. “I love it. It’s perfect. Thank you.” Her voice held more emotion than I believed painted strawberries warranted, but I knew this festival held meaning to her because of her mom.

Even her T-shirt was an homage to the mystical woman who was her mother. I’d wanted to tell Brooke how good she looked in the tight tee and her cutoffs—she apparently owned a pair of cutoffs for every day of the week, not that I was complaining—but it seemed too bold and more than friendly. Especially since I enjoyed her toned, shapely legs more than I should have.

Brooke handed the mirror to Sophie. “You are the cutest.”

Sophie grinned and admired herself.

While Brooke and Sophie were complimenting each other, I handed my card to the cashier. “I’m paying for both.”

Brooke’s head whipped my way. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

Part of me expected her to argue, but she just smiled and said, “Thank you. The bracelets are on me.”

She grabbed Sophie’s hand. “Let’s take a picture. Would you mind?” She handed her phone to the artist.

“Not at all.”

Brooke scrunched down, and she and Sophie put their nonpainted cheeks together and smiled for the camera.

The artist started snapping photos at all different angles, finding the flattering ones. It seemed to be something women instinctually knew how to do. Erica had tried to teach me how to snap the perfect photo of her and her friends, but I’d never been able to get it right.

Brooke waved me over. “You have to be in at least one.” Her tone said not to argue, and at this stage it seemed pointless to, so I walked over, trying not to feel guilty about how I was looking forward to seeing how we looked in a photo together.

“Stand behind them and put your arms around them,” the artist directed me. She must have thought Brooke and I were together, or at the very least on a date.

For a moment, I froze, unsure what to do. I’d touched Brooke enough while teaching her how to paddleboard to know that I enjoyed it more than I should. And that was with her wearing a wet suit. This would require me to touch her bare skin.

“Hurry, Uncle Logan,” Sophie snapped me out of my stupor.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

I crouched down behind them and carefully draped my arms around them, at first letting my fingers barely graze Brooke’s smooth skin. But then I caught a whiff of her golden hair, scented with jasmine, and I felt her flesh raise. It only made me crave more. It had been too long since I’d felt the touch of a pretty woman. My fingers, almost of their own accord, danced down her arm until I held it, clinging on in a desperate attempt to quell the desire for Brooke that surged within me.

The artist took a few more pictures. “You’re beautiful together.”

Those words threw cold water on my careless thoughts. I immediately stood and blew out the breath I’d been holding. I could almostpicture Erica rolling her eyes and telling me I was on the verge of becoming one ofthose guys.

Brooke took her phone back and scrolled through the recently taken photos. She stared long and hard at them and whispered, “Wow,” before clearing her throat and saying, “These are the cutest.” She held up her phone to show me one of the three of us. “This one is for sure going in my summer photo album. What do you think?”

I barely glanced at it, too afraid of how much I might like it. “It’s nice,” I said offhandedly.

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