Page 13 of Mountain Man Summer

"Hadn't planned on it," I said, glancing at Didi. "Got company for dinner."

There was a beat of silence before Kyle's voice returned, notably higher with interest. "Company? As in... female company? You've got a woman over there? And you're actually cooking for her?"

Turning slightly away, I lowered my voice. "Yes, Kyle."

"Holy shit," he laughed. "Now I definitely need to meet her. Bring her to the bonfire! It'll be fun—s'mores, music, Howard's terrible jokes. Come on, man."

I hesitated, looking back at Didi who gazed out at the starlit lake. Maybe a social gathering would be good for her—shestill carried so much tension in her shoulders and around her eyes.

"Hold on," I said to Kyle, then covered the phone. "The Petersons—elderly couple who've been coming to Hope Peak every summer for decades—are hosting a beach bonfire tonight. My cousin thinks we should make an appearance."

Her eyebrows rose. "We?"

"Kyle's words, not mine," I said with a small smile. "But it might be nice. Good people, beautiful spot on the beach. S'mores involved."

She hesitated only briefly before nodding. "Maybe I should take your advice—think about work less, loosen up more. That’s why I came here after all, right?"

Relief swept through me at her agreement. I hadn't realized how much I wanted her to say yes until she did.

"We'll be there in twenty," I told Kyle before hanging up.

We worked together to clean up, falling into an unexpectedly comfortable rhythm in the small kitchen space. When her hand brushed mine as we both reached for the same glass, the earlier connection rekindled, crackling between us.

The walk to Peterson's cove took us along the lake shore, our path lit by the nearly full moon. Even as night fell, the air remained comfortably warm, the heat of the day slowly releasing from the earth beneath our feet. The distant glow of the bonfire guided us, along with the sound of laughter and music.

"The Petersons host these gatherings all summer," I said as we approached. "They're retired teachers who love bringing the lake community together. Really good people."

She looked up at me, moonlight catching in her eyes. "Sounds nice. I can't remember the last time I went to something like this."

The vulnerability in her voice caught me off-guard. Before I could respond, we rounded the final bend and the bonfire came into full view—a crackling blaze surrounded by perhaps twenty people, some familiar faces, others summer visitors. The scent of toasting marshmallows filled the air as children and adults alike held skewers over the flames.

"Noah! You made it!" Kyle's voice boomed across the beach. My cousin bounded over, all six-foot-two of him radiating his usual boundless energy. His eyes immediately fixed on Didi with undisguised interest. "And you brought your dinner guest. Excellent!"

"Kyle Sterling," he introduced himself, extending a hand to Didi. "The better-looking Sterling cousin."

"Didi," she replied with a warm smile. "The neighbor with questionable boating skills."

Kyle glanced between us, eyebrows rising. "Neighbor? Wait, you're staying in one of the lakeside cabins?"

"Cabin 7," she confirmed.

Kyle laughed. "Now the story makes even more sense. Noah's famous rescue mission at Miller's Rocks. Half the lake has heard about it by now."

I bit back a groan. "Don't believe everything you hear."

"Noah!" Martha Peterson's voice called from near the fire. The silver-haired woman waved enthusiastically, nudging her husband beside her.

"Come meet everyone," Kyle said, guiding us toward the gathering.

The next hour passed in a blur of introductions and conversations. Didi gradually relaxed among the group, her natural charm drawing people to her.

"First time at Hope Peak?" Howard Peterson asked, handing her a skewer and a marshmallow.

"Yes," Didi replied, accepting both with a smile. "Just arrived yesterday, actually."

"Perfect timing," Martha said, settling on a driftwood log beside her. "The Fourth of July fireworks here aren’t to be missed."

From a short distance away, I observed Didi as she carefully held her marshmallow over the flames, rotating it with perfect precision until it turned golden brown. Martha showed her how to sandwich it between graham crackers and chocolate, and the genuine delight on Didi's face when she took her first bite caused my chest to constrict with an unfamiliar emotion.

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