Chapter Eighteen Summer
Chapter Eighteen
Summer
It took three days, but I’m finally feeling human again, and I’m still swearing off grocery store salads for the foreseeable future.
As embarrassing as it was to throw up and be a general mess in front of him, I’m glad Ezra was there to help take care of me the first night. I haven’t seen him since, and I’m eager to tonight.
“Are you sure you’re ready to go back to work?” my dad asks from across the kitchen table, worry lacing every single word.
My appetite still hasn’t returned to normal, but I was determined to get out of bed today and make something for us, even if it is just oatmeal and toast.
“Dad,” I say in warning. This is the fourth time he’s asked me since I came out of my room. “I’m sure. Please stop asking.”
He sighs. “I’m sorry. You might be a grown adult, but you’re still my kid, and I worry about you.”
“I know, and I love you for that, but I’ll be fine. Promise.”
He gives me a small smile, but I don’t miss how he keeps sending glances my way. He could tell right away that something was wrong with me when he came home. He always was able to do so when I was younger, too, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that it hasn’t changed over the years.
He kept me supplied with soup and electrolytes ever since, even calling off work one day to watch old movies with me from his recliner.
It was like being a kid all over again, and it made me wonder yet again what it would be like if I stayed here.
It’s not like I’d live here with my dad forever, but I’d be able to spend actual quality time with him, and I don’t hate the idea of that in the least.
“All right. I’ll back off. I just don’t want Ezra overworking you, that’s all.”
Just hearing his name sends a jolt of excitement through me. He’s texted me every day, and not once has it been to ask when I’ll be back to work. I think he’d give me the rest of the week off if I really wanted it. No, he’s texting to check on me, and that makes me happier than I care to admit.
I still can’t believe he stayed like he did.
Or that he climbed into the shower with me and bathed me.
It was intimate in a way I’d never experienced before, and not because we were naked.
It had nothing to do with that. It was how gentle he was.
How caring his touch felt as he cleaned me up with absolutely zero judgment or lust in his gaze.
I’ve never felt so exposed to someone before. Nor have I ever felt so safe.
If I’m not careful, I could get used to it, and that’s the last thing I need to do, all things considered. It’s just a fling. Just a bit of fun. Even if—and that’s a big if—I do stay in Port Harbor, Ezra has made his feelings about relationships clear. This is nothing serious. It can’t be.
“Did you hear that Ken’s selling Sunnie’s?”
I pause mid-bite. “What?”
“Yep. I saw the for sale sign in the window yesterday. I don’t know when he made that decision, but can you believe it?
Sunnie’s has been a staple in this town for .
. . shit, for as long as I can remember.
I can’t imagine not having those fritters around.
Your mom loved them.” He smiles. “Ken has been keeping that place open since Sunnie passed, but we all know it was never his baby like it was hers. I guess it’s time, you know? ”
My heart thuds at the idea of that building being up for sale.
Sure, Sunnie’s has been around since I was a little girl, and I—along with the rest of Port Harbor—hold a lot of love for the place, but I can’t deny that my thoughts are running rampant with ideas.
That space would be ideal for a restaurant.
It’s a prime spot for foot traffic, and the view of Mount Rainier is stunning. It would be perfect.
You failed before, a little voice whispers in my head.
It’s not wrong. I’ve failed before, and I’ll probably fail again.
“You know,” my dad says carefully, “I saw that sign and got to thinking about that dream of yours. You could—”
“How’s the campaign going?” I cut him off, my heart stampeding in my chest. Every word he spoke got me more and more excited, and I don’t need that.
My father frowns, and I know it’s because he wants to talk about this more.
He knows better than anyone how much I’ve always wanted my own restaurant.
While he knows the gist of what happened, he doesn’t know just how deep I got cut in Chicago.
I’m already working in a kitchen at Stick Taps. Can’t that be enough?
“This new guy is good, no doubt about that,” my father says, letting me change the subject. “I’m still ahead in the polls, though, so that’s always a plus.”
“Good or not, your opponent doesn’t stand a chance against you. The county loves you. You know that.”
“Yeah, but I doubt they’d feel that way if they knew about my heart thing.”
I realize I’ve been so caught up in Ezra and the remodel that I haven’t even asked about it in a while. He hasn’t complained, so I’ve figured he’s okay. He would say otherwise. We’ve always been honest with each other.
Like you’re being honest by sneaking around with Ezra.
I push that thought away. “Speaking of that, how have you been feeling this week?”
“Not bad. Just a little heartburn, but nothing my pills can’t fix.”
Now it’s my turn to frown. “Are you sure it’s just heartburn? Do you need to see your doctor?”
“If I’m not allowed to worry about you, then you’re not allowed to worry about me.”
“You can worry about me, Dad, but being sick for a few days is different than me getting a call in the middle of the night because of your heart.” I shoot him a glare. “If this campaign is causing you stress, then you need to drop it. You don’t have to be the sheriff.”
He looks offended I’ve even suggested that, but I bet the thought has crossed his mind a time or two. My dad isn’t exactly old, but he’s not as young as he once was either. He has more than enough time under his belt to retire. It might even be good for him.
“Being sheriff is all I’ve known for the last fifteen years. I’m not looking to hang up my badge just yet.”
“Dad, I—”
He holds his hand up. “I’m okay, Summer. I promise if I feel like I can’t do this job, I’ll consider retirement.”
I don’t miss his wording. He’ll consider retirement. That’s not good enough, but I know it’s all I’m going to get.
“Fine. I just love you, okay? I want you happy and healthy.”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m happy as long as you’re happy?” He winks at me, then points to my half-eaten food. “Now finish your meal. You need the calories after being sick.”
“Yes, Sheriff,” I smart off, earning me a glare.
We finish breakfast, and I promise to text him and let him know how I’m feeling in a little while before he leaves.
I take my time getting ready, then climb into the cruiser ten minutes before I actually need to leave for my shift at Stick Taps. I tell myself it’s because I want extra time to get there in case of traffic, but this is Port Harbor, for crying out loud.
I’m going early because I want to stop at Sunnie’s. I can’t stop thinking about it, even though I shouldn’t. Even though that little voice is still whispering in the back of my mind.
You failed before, Summer. How will this time be any different? Face it—you couldn’t hack it. You’re a has-been.
I pull up to the bakery and park along the curb in front, and my heart begins to hammer when I see that it’s true.
Right there in the corner of the window is the sign.
For Sale by Owner
I can’t seem to stop myself from opening my door, dying to know more. I say it’s just because I’m curious why he’s selling it, but I know that’s not true. I want to see if he has a buyer.
“Summer!” Ken, the owner, grins at me from behind the counter when I walk into the cute little shop. “How are you, kid?”
I laugh. I think everyone in this town will always call me that, thanks to my father. “Good, Ken. How are you?”
“Not too bad. I was just getting ready to hang my apron up for the afternoon and hand it off to the crew.”
“Hot date with Elaine?” I wiggle my brows at him.
He blushes at the mention of Odette’s mother. “Now, now. You didn’t come all this way to tease an old man. What can I get for you?”
“Four fritters, please. Whatever flavors you have left are fine.”
“Sure. Are you on your way to Stick Taps?”
“I am.”
“Then I know just what you’re looking for.”
Tongs in hand, he grabs one apple, one chocolate banana, one mixed berry, and one that I’m unfamiliar with.
“What was that last one you put in the box?” I ask as he tapes it shut.
“Froot Loops. It’s Ezra’s favorite.”
I grin, because of course it is.
I hand over a twenty and tell him to keep the change, which earns me a grin from the older gentleman.
It should be my cue to leave. To take my fritters and walk right out of here. Yet, I linger.
Ken notices.
“Something on your mind, kid?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I, uh, I noticed you’re selling the place.”
He smiles sadly, nodding. “Yep. It’s time.
This place always belonged to my late wife.
This was never my passion. It was hers. Now that I have Elaine and things are going so well there .
. . I don’t know. It’s time to do something different, you know?
I want to travel. I want to see the world. Is that hokey?”
I understand that more than he realizes. It’s what I felt when I was looking at culinary schools. I wanted to be far away and experience something new. Now, though, all I feel is a longing for home.
“Not at all, Ken. You deserve that. It’s just a bummer because Sunnie’s has been such a core part of this community for so long. The people will be sad to lose it.” I roll my tongue over my lips, swallowing down the lump that’s formed in my throat. “Have you had any offers yet?”
My heart pounds in my ears as I wait for his answer.