Page 38 of Paging Dr. Summers

Tina side-eyed me. “Okay, sure. If that’s what you say. Aren’t you the guy who called to check when our last health inspection was?”

“That would be me,” I coughed out.

Brooke whipped her head my way and gave me doe eyes. “You did that? You’re the sweetest.”

“That’s what friends are for, right?” The wordfriendtasted like sour milk on my tongue, but heaven help me, I wanted every excuse to see her this summer, even if it was just as friends.

“The best of friends.” She smiled.

Tina smirked like she wasn’t buying the friend thing, but thankfully, she said no more on the subject.

Meanwhile, I looked around for any blatant health code violations. I was glad to see that the place looked neat and clean, and I noticed an autoclave used to sterilize needles and equipment on Tina’s workstation.

Brooke took a seat on the adjustable chair near the workstation. I grabbed an unused chair and sat next to her. Brooke’s leg bounced with nervous energy.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

She nodded and handed Tina her shirt. “This was my mom’s band. I want this design on my back. Right here.” Brooke pulled her off-the-shoulder T-shirt down to reveal the spot.

I tried to be a gentleman and avert my eyes, but Brooke asked, “Do you think it’s a good place for it?”

My gaze drifted over her smooth bare skin; I was mesmerized and aching to touch it. “It’s perfect.”

She was perfect.

Brooke rewarded me with her smile, and I couldn’t help but want more of it.

Tina studied the shirt. “I love this. Let me make a stencil of it, and then we’ll get going.”

Brooke reached for my hand. “I’m going to need this.”

I offered it like a sacrificial lamb, knowing it was going to cost me. But Brooke was worth the price.

“SO, WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Sebastian’s voice had a hint of pride, as if he had orchestrated the breathtaking display of orange, pink, and red hues painting the sky.

I clung to the railing of the boat—or rather, the yacht. A gentle breeze brushed my skin as we sailed into the sunset. I had never experienced such luxury. It wasn’t unwelcome—just a stark contrast to what this Nebraska girl was used to. The thought nagged at me: Would the simplicity of home feel mundane after this?

Aspen Lake wasn’t my reality. I needed to remember that the charm and beauty of this place would have to be a fleeting moment in my life. While I admired the town, I could never afford to live there. Mom’s infatuation with the place puzzled me, and her insistence that I immerse myself in all that Aspen Lake offered seemed so unlike her. Yes, the resort town was enchanting and almost magical, yet I couldn’t see her in it.

There had to be another reason for its pull on her—a mystery I was determined to solve. Maybe my bucket list was the key to it all.

“The sun has truly outdone herself tonight,” I whispered, captivated by the spectacle in the sky.

“So have you. You look stunning.” Sebastian inched closer to me. He’d already complimented me several times since picking me up for our date.

I smiled and nudged him with my shoulder, unsure how sincerehe was. My clothing, a simple sundress with a light sweater, didn’t compare to that of some of our fellow passengers. Don’t get me wrong—I liked Sebastian, but he was, let’s say ... polished. He knew all the right things to say. That wasn’t a bad thing, but it almost seemed practiced. And ... perhaps I was having a hard time not thinking of someone who was anything but practiced when he spoke.

Dang Logan.

I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him. Certainly not about how much I loved holding his hand. The intensity of our connection unnerved me. He was madly in love with his wife, as he should have been, and he had no intention of making room for anyone else. Even if he did, it would be difficult to follow an act like Erica.

Despite reminding myself of these crucial facts, I could still feel his fingers lightly touching my freshly inked tattoo, and the way he made my stomach feel as if it were shuffling cards, about to win the hand—or Logan. Which was ridiculous. He wasn’t an available prize. Not that people were prizes, but men like him were definitely at a premium.

I couldn’t forget how thoughtful he was, ensuring the tattoo parlor was safe. Or how attentively he’d listened as I rambled on about winning my goldfish, Nancy, at a county fair. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure if she was female, but Nancy just fit her.

I had also confessed my teenage obsession with the song “Tattoo” by Jordin Sparks. I’d begged the DJ at a junior high dance to dedicate the song to Kaden Peterson, my crush at the time. While Kaden and I danced, I’d told him I would metaphorically tattoo him on my heart. We never spoke again after that. It was probably for the best. I was pretty sure Kaden had ended up serving time for growing and selling weed.

“You look good too,” I said. And indeed, Sebastian did. He wore a sharp blue suit and crisp white shirt, notably without a tie, making his look seem effortless. His Ray-Ban sunglasses peeked neatly from the pocket of his suit coat, adding a touch of sophistication. It was as if he were born to grace a yacht.

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