Another Summer

Chapter One

Avery

After a decade away, Avery Easton wanted this place to feel different. Something akin to jamais vu, that sensation where a familiar place feels foreign. But the second she opened her car door, the scent of fresh pine filled her lungs, and she remembered everything about Linden Lake.

While most people associated the woodsy aroma with Christmas, pine reminded Avery of Maine and the evergreen summer she’d spent here a decade ago.

Diving off the old dock; sneaking into vacant cabins for stolen kisses; stargazing in favorite sweatshirts, with flashlights to point out the constellations.

The coming weeks would be a playlist of memories on shuffle, each one taking her back to that summer.

Love tells a lot of lies. Especially first love.

Some of those lies she’d told herself. After so much time and distance, trusting she’d put her first heartbreak in her rearview mirror might have been the biggest one.

Long before she’d turned down the gravel driveway, every sight since she’d crossed the state line brought back memories of Miles.

Napolitano’s Pizza, Roger’s Grocery, and the bank sign with the time and temperature, where she’d asked him his favorite time of day.

He’d later amended his favorite time to 3:59 p.m., the exact moment of their first kiss.

Avery studied the lodge, not yet open for guests, and sighed.

The original plan had been to leave her furniture in storage and travel all summer before starting her MBA in the fall.

Her best friend, Lily, had called Thursday, with a tearful voice so desperate, Avery packed her things and drove up from Virginia.

Sam Cooper had suffered a heart attack. The Cooper family needed help running the administrative side of the resort.

Avery had done the job for only one season, ten years ago, but Lily claimed nothing had changed.

Avery walked around the side of the pine-shingled lodge, past the century-old log pillars of the front porch, and out onto the granite ledge from which the lodge commanded a magnificent view of Linden Lake sparkling in the sun.

She bounded down the small footpath to the shore and out onto the old dock, the cool lake air heightening her senses.

Closing her eyes, she lifted her face to the warm sun.

Tiny waves lapped at the dock pylons. Ah, tranquility.

People came here to replace the pings and dings of the modern world with birdsong and leaves rustling in the soft breeze.

Once warmer weather arrived, the lonely call of a loon would join this meditative soundtrack.

Every summer began as a new ripple on the lake.

A blank slate, waiting to be filled with fresh memories.

Montressa Lodge might not have changed in the last decade, but she had.

She wasn’t nineteen and naive anymore. Age brought wisdom.

This summer, she’d create a new playlist of memories.

That summer didn’t need to factor in. After all, one could never step in the same body of water twice.

“Pepper.” A husky voice called out from somewhere behind her, instantly goose-bumping her skin.

Only one person called her Pepper.

Miles gave her that nickname after learning her parents had picked her name off the label on a bottle of Tabasco Sauce. Avery’s stomach flipped. The tiny hairs on her neck stretched toward the rhythm of his footsteps. She forced a smile and turned around.

He broke out in a jog along the lakeside trail, past the cabin where she’d trapped the squirrel, past the marina where she’d waited for his shift to end so they could sunbathe and swim.

Past the outdoor kitchen where every Montressa employee learned to flip a blueberry pancake onto a plate.

At least a hundred had hit the ground before Avery eventually plated one.

Thankfully, the Coopers’ puppy licked the failed attempts from her shoes.

She tore her eyes away from Miles and focused on the boathouse-turned-cabin at the far end of the property.

Time hadn’t lessened its charm. She’d treated the night they’d spent there as a pledge.

He’d turned it into a tryst. Avery shook off the thought, glanced at Miles jogging up the path, and summoned the strength to protect her heart.

She wasn’t supposed to see him again until Lily married Nate Cooper in the fall.

There’d be bridesmaid duties and friends to buffer the shock.

As the only bridesmaid, Avery had picked her own dress, one cut low enough to show off the tiny freckle near her heart.

The one he used to kiss. She’d dreamed of exuding a hotness that simultaneously said, take me and you’ll never have me.

Hundreds of times, she’d imagined coyly saying hello as his jaw dropped.

She raised a hand to her messy topknot and cringed.

This was not that.

No makeup, her comfiest leggings, and a favorite sweatshirt had made sense for the long drive on short notice. She’d planned on showering once she settled in.

Miles stopped running a few feet shy of the dock.

“Avery.” Her name came out breathy and deep, smoother than the lake and still capable of making her just as wet. That had not changed.

Still tall, still handsome, with two days of dark stubble and hair a little windswept, as if he had just stepped off the ski boat.

Gone was the Yale Track sweatshirt. In its place, a trim navy Henley hinted at every muscle beneath.

Lightweight gray athletic joggers skimmed his toned legs.

Miles had an almost post-workout glow, as if he’d just completed a marathon without sweating. He looked perfect.

Where Miles was all sinew and sin, Avery’s aesthetic screamed abandon all hope, ye who enter. She regretted sticking the gnawed paintbrush she’d found rolling around the floor of her car through her messy topknot.

She waited for her stomach to sour. Instead, it filled with fireflies.

Miles was smart, charming, and sweeter than maple syrup.

But not perfect. A decade ago, he’d held her like a treasure before discarding her like trash.

He would always be Sharpie on white shorts.

Unerasable, ruinous, a stain the lake couldn’t wash away.

“Hey,” she said, trying to sound calm and casual, as if they’d known each other once, but it hadn’t been meaningful. Except that summer had been significant and life-changing. For her, anyway.

“Hey you.” He smiled, the wood planks squeaking under his feet as he walked toward her. “I always hoped I’d find you right here, on this dock.”

If she’d known she was standing in the place he’d always imagined seeing her again, Avery would’ve moved to the new, larger ski dock the second he called her Pepper.

This had been their spot. The old dock had twin pylons on opposite sides at the end.

They used to lean back on them, facing one another, her painting and him reading, bathed in the golden glow of a setting sun.

She used to stretch out her legs so her foot could lean against his thigh.

He’d finished War and Peace that summer.

They’d been so happy. Until they weren’t.

Miles opened his arms wide, fingers twitching in search of an embrace. A dazzling smile spread across his tanned face.

After a decade of silence, Miles Magrum wanted a hug. Avery’s jaw dropped at the audacity.

As he stepped closer, she stayed planted in her spot.

Almost automatically, she placed a hand in the middle of his chest to stop him and his aura from destroying her composure.

Too late. That long-lost, intoxicating, woodsy scent wafted ahead of him.

Miles still smelled clean and cedary, like warm pine after an August rain.

He had his own signature pheromone. She’d never let it weaken her resolve again.

Under her hand, his chest felt solid. She’d loved the boy he’d once been, but all indications were that Miles was much different as a man. Lily said his life had become a red-carpet step and repeat of gorgeous women. If he’d wanted to contact her, he would’ve. And he hadn’t.

Miles lowered his hands and gave up on the hug. She backed up a step to make sure he knew she’d drawn a line on the dock. One he shouldn’t cross.

“It’s great to see you.” He rubbed that dark stubble on his jaw, as if things weren’t going the way he expected.

“The Coopers appreciate you coming. I’m not sure if you’ve heard the latest, but Sam’s stable and in New York, at one of the best hospitals in America.

He’s scheduled for a quintuple bypass Monday morning. ”

“Sounds like he’s in excellent hands,” she said. “It’s been a whirlwind few days. How’re you holding up?”

“Good, thanks for asking. I’m worried, but he’ll be fine. No more drawn buttah with his lobstah, but fine.”

Like her southern accent, Avery wondered if uncomfortable situations brought out Miles’s New England accent. Or maybe it had been an attempt at humor. It had been so long since they’d joked about anything, she didn’t know.

“It’s scary,” he said. “We’re all…”

Miles shook his head and cleared his throat.

Avery regretted refusing the hug. As the only child of only children, Miles had little support. Sam’s son, Nate, had been Miles’ best friend since preschool. Which made Sam Cooper almost like an uncle to Miles. Miles probably needed the comfort of an embrace.

“You were nice to send your jet to take the Coopers to New York,” she said.

It came as no surprise Miles owned a jet.

He’d created CashCache, an app that taught a world of spenders how to get themselves out of debt and start saving.

News of its sale to a large financial institution for an undisclosed sum had been hard to avoid.

Undisclosed sums typically had a lot of zeros and commas.

“Oh, I don’t own a jet.” He waved off the idea. “Flying commercial creates less of a carbon footprint. I chartered one to get Sam to the best cardiologists.”