Page 52 of Paging Dr. Summers

The women at the table laughed.

“Yes,” I replied, feeling some heat creep up my neck.

Brooke took my hand and led me toward the table. “Calista was telling me they’re having a diaper and formula drive at her clinic next week. I said we would be happy to volunteer.”

“Yeah, I’d love to. I just need to check my hospital schedule.” Apparently, we were wasting no time announcing to Aspen Lake that we were together. At least temporarily.

“Tristan and I would really appreciate it. Thank you.” She stood. “I need to get back to my kiddos.”

“Me too.” Jules slowly stood up, holding her pregnant belly.

Lucy mirrored Jules. “Two months until I evict this kid.”

Jules groaned, a mix of exhaustion and love in her voice. “I have three months. I love my children, but pregnancy is no joke.”

Brooke beamed at the women. “I can’t wait to have a baby someday.”

Her innocent comment felt like a punch to the gut, a stabbing reminder of the deep regret I harbored for the last words I spoke to Erica. It didn’t help that each woman’s gaze, except Brooke’s, seemed to silently ask if I planned to be the father of Brooke’s babies. It led to thoughts I shouldn’t have, picturing Brooke carrying a baby—our baby.

I had zero business thinking like that, no matter how much I wished to be a father. We had one summer together, and that was it. We’d set the boundaries for both of our sakes, and I had no plans to cross those lines.

“Be sure to come to the book launch,” Jules said to Brooke, helping to shake me out of my thoughts. “Of course, you’re invited too,” Jules acknowledged me.

“Thanks,” I said, not knowing what she was referencing.

“I can’t believe I get to meet Josie Cavanaugh,” Brooke squealed.

“She’s great,” Lucy commented.

“We’ll let you get to your dinner.” Calista winked as they all filed out, leaving me alone with Brooke, who immediately tugged on my hand.

“Come sit down. Lola and I stopped at the best burger joint ever. You’re going to love the food, Mr. I Don’t Eat Dessert. It’s all natural, nothing processed. And their baked sweet potatoes fries are to die for.”

“Sounds good.” I pulled out a chair for Brooke.

Before she took her seat, she pursed her lips together, and those knowing eyes of hers studied me. “Are you okay? You sound kind of down.”

I pecked her lips and reminded myself to snap out of it. I didn’t feel it was right to talk to Brooke about the issues Erica and I had been experiencing before she died. It almost felt like a betrayal. And I didn’t want to dampen Brooke’s mood.

“It’s just been a long day, but I’m glad you’re here.” And I was.

“All right.” She kissed my cheek, seemingly satisfied with my answer, before she took her seat. “You know, I’m here for you,friend.” She laughed at the unromantictitle.

I smiled and took a seat next to her, knowing she would probably have some wise advice for me, but this was one I had to work out on my own. “I appreciate that. But maybe we can think of a different word thanfriendorfling,” I added.

“Hmm. I’ll have to think about it.” She grabbed the brown paper bag and started unpacking its contents. It smelled promising, like well-seasoned beef off the grill. She opened the container of fries, pulled one out, and fed it to me.

I chewed slowly, admiring Brooke as she waited impatiently to see what I thought of the fry. It was delicious, but it had nothing on her.

“Well?” She could no longer stand the suspense.

“It’s almost to die for,” I teased.

“Ha ha.” She shoved another fry in my mouth. “On a more serious note, do you want to shop for clothes with me?”

I swallowed before saying, “Sure. Except, I enjoy your wardrobe.” I couldn’t help but let my eyes rove over her normal attire of cutoffs and a T-shirt exposing her shoulder.

“Do you, now?” she asked while leaning closer.

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