Page 53 of Paging Dr. Summers

I couldn’t resist the invitation to brush her lips with my own, barely taking a taste of her, even though I wanted more. I doubted Evie would appreciate it if she caught me pulling Brooke onto my lap and thoroughly ravaging her lips.

Brooke backed away as if she could read my mind and it was tempting her too. “You know, we should add making out in a supply closet or a patient room to the bucket list,” she whispered seductively.

Hell, she was going to be my undoing. I cleared my throat, trying not to think about the possibility of an available patient room. It was against several rules.

“Are you okay there?” She laughed. “Sorry, I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“You would be worth it.” What was I even saying? I’d never treated my job likeGeneral Hospitalbefore. That I wanted to now was both freeing and disconcerting. What was Brooke doing to me?

The blush in her cheeks said my response pleased her. “Anyway,” she said breathlessly. “I really feel like I need to class up my wardrobe.”

“Why?” I unwrapped the burger.

She bit her lip and sighed. “I really want to go to that book launch, but sometimes I feel like a fish out of water here. Everywhere I go, I feel like I meet someone famous or I’m rubbing shoulders with people who know famous people. Even your sister is famous. And I’m just a simple girl from Nebraska. The only famous people I’ve ever rubbed shoulders with were backstage at oldies concerts in Omaha on the rare occasion the radio station I worked for got me a pass. And even then, it was always for the lesser-known bands. Apparently I wasn’t cool enough to hang out with the likes of Kansas or Boston. I mean, I was lucky if I got to chat with the guy who played the triangle in a cover band.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, even though I hated that she felt out of place in Aspen Lake. “I’m sure the guy who played the triangle counted himself lucky.”

Brooke grinned. “His name was Dave, by the way. But seriously, Logan, you have to help me up my game here.”

“Brooke, I’m happy to go shopping with you, but don’t feel like you need to change to fit in here. You seem to do just fine being yourself.”

“You just want me to keep wearing cutoffs,” she teased.

“True. But I meant what I said.” I took a bite of the burger, and Brooke was right. It was amazing. As were her cutoffs.

“I keep wondering why, out of all the places my mom could have chosen for me to spend the summer, she chose Aspen Lake. Sure, she said it was magical, and it has been.” Brooke gave me a knowing look. “But this place isn’t her. I feel like I’m missing something.”

I set the burger down and took Brooke’s hand. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad she chose Aspen Lake. Maybe this place wasn’t her, but maybe she knew it would be you.”

She squeezed my hand. “You really think I fit in here?”

“Look at all the friends you’ve made already. Being friends with the Harringtons alone is a feat.”

“That’s mostly Lola, although Mr. Harrington says he wants to help me monetize my podcast.”

That information surprised me and, honestly, made me feel unsettled. It was probably nothing, except for the fact that Brooke seemed to have a propensity to attract men. Was Maxwell trying toprey on her by offering his help? Why would he take an interest in her podcast? Not that his offer wasn’t good, but something about how easily the Harringtons had accepted Brooke felt off. My understanding was they were unlikely to readily accept outsiders.

“He does?” I asked.

“I think it’s because he doesn’t want some unemployed lowlife hanging out with his daughter.”

“You are not a lowlife,” I said firmly. “If Maxwell Harrington thinks that, he can come talk to me.”

Brooke’s pressed-lipped smile seemed to hold some deeper meaning.

“What?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I like this side of you.”

“The last thing I want is for you to feel out of place here. I detest people who think they’re better than anyone else.” I especially abhorred men who didn’t live up to their wedding vows.

I wasn’t saying that was the case with Maxwell Harrington, but I wanted Brooke to be careful around him. Sometimes men with money and power thought they had a license to do whatever they wanted.

“Thank you, Logan,” she whispered. “Now, eat. I know you don’t have much time.”

Unfortunately, she was right. I started shoveling in the food as fast as I could, wishing I could spend more time savoring it—and Brooke.

While I ate, she talked about some upcoming ideas for podcast episodes, but then she said, “I’m not exactly sure how flings work, but the Fourth of July is in a few days, and I don’t have plans, and I don’t know if you have plans, but maybe we could make some plans together.” She pretended to act shy, but I knew she was anything but.

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