Page 5 of Paging Dr. Summers

There was a time I would have found it funny too, but I honestly wished she had never intimated it. Because part of me liked the idea, and I hated myself for that.

WHAT WERE THE ODDS EDEN Russo’s brother was Dr. Summers—or Logan? Logan Summers was a very sexy name. But as sexy as he and his name were, I’d planned on never seeing him again. Being his neighbor for the entire summer was going to make that a tad difficult. I was going to be word vomiting everywhere. Why did I have to apologize in front of his sister and niece for the summer fling thing? Or maybe he’d already told his family about his lunatic patient. Regardless, I had just let that unhinged cat out of the bag.

He’d probably run off just now so he could call 911 and report that an insane woman was in his house. He wouldn’t be wrong. I was crazy for coming to Aspen Lake this summer.

“Um ... I should probably go home.” I turned and stared at the door Dr. Summers had just slammed.

“Nonsense.” Eden got her laughter under control.

“Really. I should,” I stammered. “Every time I’m around your brother, he runs out and slams a door. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Hmm, I don’t think that’s the case,” Eden responded mysteriously while she strung her arm through mine and led me into the state-of-the-art kitchen with top-of-the-line everything, including a commercial-size refrigerator with a smart screen, a massive cooktop, and what looked like a built-in barista-grade coffee machine. “Tell me about meetingmy brother today.”

“It’s pretty embarrassing.” I pointed at the bandages on my arms and legs. “Remember when we met on the beach, and I told you I fell off my bike today? I didn’t mention that the bike shop owner insisted I go to the ER. Your brother was the one to treat me. Well, sort of. Like I said, he has a habit of running away from me. Which I completely understand. I basically told him my life story and then said the embarrassing thing you just heard me apologize for. I’m really not that forward. It’s that summer bucket list thing I mentioned to you earlier. And ... your brother is insanely good looking, and gorgeous doctors and hospitals make me so, so nervous. Oh, my gosh, I’m talking too much again.” I covered my mouth.

Eden and her daughter Sophie both wore the widest grins.

I dropped my hands and wrung them together. “You saw I was mostly sane when we met earlier today, right?”

Eden gave me a squeeze. “I’m not worried about your mental stability in the least.”

I’m glad someone wasn’t, because I sure was.

“Let’s bake some cookies.” Eden sounded just as excited as she did in her social media posts. “I have an apron for you, right there.” She pointed at a cute white apron with her logo on it. It was simple but beautiful—the silhouette of a woman dancing in a pink circle. The script below it read “A Dance in the Kitchen.” The logo used to be of a man and woman, but she’d changed it after her divorce.

Claire and I were absolutely shocked when Eden had announced she and Luca were separating. On-screen, they always looked so in love. It was so romantic how they would dance together. Then she would feed him a bite of whatever she’d made, and he would look like he’d died and gone to heaven as he chewed. Then he would kiss her, and I would wonder where I could find my own Luca.

Of course, I felt differently now, knowing he’d cheated on her. Not that Eden had ever publicly announced that tidbit. But it wasn’t hard to guess, seeing as Eden’s best friend, Susan, who used to be her social media director, had started posting pictures of her and Luca. I’d unfollowed Susan and Luca. Just goes to show that what’s portrayed on social media isn’t the complete picture. Not to say Eden was trying todeceive anyone. But I couldn’t imagine the heartache she was keeping to herself.

“Are you sure?” I looked over at the door Logan had disappeared behind. This was his house, after all, and I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable in it.

“One hundred percent sure. You have to learn how to bake cookies so you can complete your summer bucket list,” Eden chirped. I’d explained the bucket list less creepily to Eden and Sophie than when I’d blabbed it all to Dr. Summers. Eden thought it was awesome and had volunteered to help me with the cookie part.

One item on the list was to take homemade cookies to all my neighbors this summer, specifically triple-chocolate cookies. It was a weird one. Okay, maybe not as weird as Mom’s charge to go skinny-dipping at least once. Or as weird as her specifying that I had to rent a house in Sapphire Bay. But it was still weird and way out of my comfort zone. Especially considering I’d never learned the art of baking. Now, the art of takeout and making smoothies, I’d mastered. I could even bake a mean frozen pizza now and then.

“I really appreciate it. Mom taught me a lot of things, like not to be afraid to follow friends who jump off cliffs, because those people know how to embrace life—but baking ... no.”

Eden laughed. “Your mom sounds amazing.”

“She really was,” I sighed while putting on the cute apron and tying it in the back.

Sophie pulled a stool up next to her mom, who now stood in front of her signature pink stand mixer. She looked like her mom’s mini-me. They were striking, with luxurious hair that fell in soft waves. Sophie’s was a shade darker than her mom’s. They shared Dr. Summers’s stunning blue eyes. It must have been a family trait. Lucky them.

“Come close.” Eden waved me over. “I don’t bite. Well, sometimes.” She snickered.

I liked her. I knew I would just from watching her over the years. Something about her screamed she was genuine.

I tiptoed over to her.

“Don’t be shy,” Eden coaxed.

I wouldn’t call myself shy. I just liked my comfort zones. But considering I’d made the biggest fool out of myself that day, I was feeling more than shy. I didn’t want to scare anyone more than I already had. However, I found the courage to land right next to Eden. I’d never realized she was tall—she had a few inches on my five-foot-six frame.

Eden playfully nudged me with her hip. “All right, the secret to almost any cookie recipe is to use Irish butter. It has higher butterfat content and will always make your cookies soft and moist.” She handed me a small plate with softened butter and a spatula. “Throw that in the mixing bowl. We’re going to start with our wet ingredients first.”

I did as she instructed, inelegantly using the spatula to get all the butter in the bowl.

“Very good. Next, our eggs.”

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