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He glances over at Savannah, who’s teasing Jake about whether he can win her a giant stuffed fish at the ring toss. “I like your people.”

“They like you. Even Savannah—and she hates everyone for the first six months.”

“She’s blunt. I respect it.”

“She’s also fiercely loyal,” I say. “And she can bake. So basically, she’s perfect.”

Wes laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”Heartthrob, huh? Quinn called me a heartthrob. Yikes. Guess I’d better step up my game.

We’re mid-bite into our watermelon slices when Savannah leans toward me and whispers, “Hey, don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but I overheard Dr. Patel talking about the clinic’s grant funding. Sounds like they’re worried about renewal. You okay?”

I freeze. I heard the same thing last week in passing—something about a delay in processing. But hearing Savannah say it now makes the anxiety spike.

“We’ve had some issues,” I admit. “We’re understaffed, and if the grant falls through, we might need to cut hours or programs. I even thought about picking up more ER shifts to keep things stable until fall.”

Savannah frowns. “That stinks. But if anyone can hold it together, it’s you. And hey—if you need help baking bribes for the grant committee, I’m your girl.”

Wes looks over from where he’s chatting with Beckett and Abby. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, plastering on a smile. “Just talking shop.”

But Wes’s eyes linger. Later, when we take a quiet walk by the lake, he gently brings it up.

“Savannah mentioned something about the clinic. Is it in trouble?”

I hesitate. “We’re tight on staffing, and there’s a grant renewal up in the air. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Quinn, you don’t have to carry this alone. Let me help.”

“You already do—”

“Let me help more,” he insists. “I’ll make a few calls. One of my old teammates from a few years back runs a youth foundation. He owes me a favor. If there’s a way to support the clinic—donations, equipment—I want in.”

I blink at him, stunned. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. I want to be part of your world, Quinn. That means all of it.”

I take his hand, feeling overwhelmed and relieved all at once. Savannah might’ve delivered the bad news, but Wes hands me hope.

As the festival continues, a local announcer’s voice booms over the loudspeaker. “All right, folks! It’s time for the fundraiser finale—our annual bachelor auction and dunk tank combo event! Who wants to win a date and dunk a hero?”

Wes raises an eyebrow at me. “This sounds dangerous.”

Beckett and Griff are already laughing as they surround him. “We signed you up,” Beckett says. “For charity. And because it’s hilarious.”

“What?”

“You’re going up on the auction block,” Griff says. “And into the dunk tank. Double trouble.”

Savannah jogs over with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I put twenty bucks on you being dunked in the first five throws. Don’t disappoint me, Archer.”

Wes sighs dramatically. “This town is brutal. And you two GUYS are brutal. And my best friends that!”

Soon he’s perched above a water tank in a folding chair, wearing a donated Sunset Cove T-shirt and looking thoroughly resigned. A crowd gathers, cheering as kids and adults line up with baseballs.

Jake takes the first throw—and nails the target. First try!

Wes drops into the tank with a splash, sputtering as he surfaces. “Jake! Betrayal!”