Page 11

“Heat Wave”

Noah

I couldn't get the taste of her out of my mind.

Sitting at my kitchen table hours after dropping Didi at her cabin, I stared unseeing at the patrol schedules for the Fourth of July weekend.

The papers lay spread before me, notations half-finished, my concentration utterly shot.

Every time I tried to focus, I was back in that gazebo, the rain hammering the roof, her lips soft beneath mine.

The kiss shouldn't have happened. I knew better than to get emotionally involved with summer visitors.

They always left—that was the whole point of a vacation.

Since Jessica, I'd carefully maintained a life built around casual encounters and physical release without emotional entanglement.

The occasional hookup with Shawna had been perfect—satisfying, uncomplicated, and with clear boundaries.

And yet.

There was something about Didi that felt different. The way she'd looked at me in the storm, vulnerable yet unafraid. The way she'd laughed as we ran through the downpour, finding joy in the chaos. The glimpses of her past she'd shared, revealing layers beneath her carefully maintained facade.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the storm making another pass over the mountains. I scrubbed a hand over my face, pushing back from the table. The patrol schedules could wait until morning. Right now, I needed to clear my head.

My phone rang, Sheriff Callahan's name lighting up the screen.

"Sterling," I answered, grateful for the distraction.

"Noah," Callahan's gruff voice came through. "Just checking in on those schedules for the holiday weekend. With this heat wave, I'm expecting even more lake traffic than usual. People trying to cool off however they can."

"Working on them now, sir," I said, staring at the barely-started notes. "Should have them to you by tomorrow morning."

"Good. Make sure we've got extra coverage around the public beaches, especially during the fireworks. And I want double patrols on the water. Last thing we need is drunk boaters when the lake's this crowded."

"Already planning on it," I assured him.

"Alright then. Get some rest, Sterling. You've been putting in long hours."

After hanging up, I leaned back in my chair, the weight of my professional responsibilities settling heavily against my growing feelings for Didi. My personal life was separate from my role as Hope Peak's detective, and I intended to keep it that way.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed by a rolling boom of thunder. The storm was circling back, the oppressive temperatures creating unstable weather patterns across the mountains. Through my window, I could see Didi's cabin, lights still blazing despite the late hour.

That was unusual. In the short time she'd been here, I'd noticed her lights typically went out by eleven. It was nearly midnight now.

I told myself it was neighborly concern that made me grab my jacket and head out into the light rain.

The humidity hit me like a wall as I stepped outside, the day's warmth barely diminished by the storm. Another wave of the record-breaking temperatures that had gripped the region for days. By the time I reached Didi's porch, my t-shirt was sticking to my back despite the short walk.

I hesitated before knocking. What exactly was I doing here? But then I heard what sounded like a frustrated groan from inside, and my concern outweighed my second thoughts.

My knuckles had barely touched the door when it swung open. Didi stood there, hair piled messily atop her head, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts that revealed miles of leg. Her skin glistened with perspiration, face flushed from the heat.

"Noah," she said, surprise evident in her voice. "Is everything okay?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," I replied, noting the discomfort in her expression. "Saw your lights still on. Everything alright?"

She gave a defeated laugh, gesturing me inside. "My air conditioner gave up the ghost about an hour ago. Complete surrender. I've been trying to revive it, but I think it's officially dead."

I stepped into her cabin, immediately feeling the stifling temperature. The small window unit was silent, despite the dial being turned to maximum cooling.

"These old units aren't made for heat waves like this," I said, crossing to examine it. "Compressor's probably overheated and shut down."

"So my options are what? Melt into a puddle on the floor?"

I smiled at her exasperation. "Resort maintenance can probably replace it, but not until morning at the earliest." I hesitated, then offered, "My cabin has central air. You're welcome to crash there tonight."

The moment the words left my mouth, I realized what I was suggesting. After our kiss in the gazebo, inviting her to spend the night—even innocently—carried different implications.

Didi seemed to reach the same conclusion, her eyes widening slightly. "I don't want to impose," she said carefully.

"You're not," I assured her. "I've got a spare room. And it's too hot to sleep here."

She bit her lip, considering. "You're sure?"

"Positive. Grab whatever you need for the night. I'll run to the corner store, pick up some supplies. Meet you at my place in fifteen?"

Relief washed over her face. "You're a lifesaver, Mr. Mountain Man."

"Just being neighborly," I said, the words feeling inadequate for what was growing between us.

I drove to the small market on the resort property, picking up ice cream, cold drinks, and breakfast supplies for morning. By the time I returned, Didi's cabin was dark, and her silhouette was visible on my porch, a small overnight bag at her feet.

"Sorry," I called as I approached, arms full of grocery bags. "Thought I'd grab some cold treats. This weather isn't letting up anytime soon."

"My hero," she smiled, helping me with the bags as I unlocked the door.

The cool air of my cabin enveloped us as we stepped inside, and I heard Didi's appreciative sigh.

"Oh my God, this feels amazing," she said, closing her eyes briefly as the air conditioning washed over her. "I might never leave."

I set the groceries on the counter, trying not to think too hard about that possibility. "Make yourself at home. Spare room's down the hall, first door on the right."

She nodded, picking up her overnight bag. "Thanks, Noah. Really."

While she settled in, I unpacked the groceries and grabbed two beers from the fridge. When I returned to the living room, Didi had emerged from the spare room and was studying the framed photos on my mantel.

"Your family?" she asked as I handed her a beer.

I nodded, pointing to one showing an older couple standing proudly beside a teenage boy with a fishing rod. "My parents and me, about a year before the accident."

She touched the frame gently. "You have their eyes."

"My mom's side," I said. "Irish blood."

We drifted out to the deck, the night air marginally cooler than inside.

Despite the temperature, something about being outdoors felt necessary for the conversation building between us.

The storm had moved on, leaving behind a sky washed clean of clouds.

Stars blazed overhead, the Milky Way a bright smear across the darkness.

"I've never seen so many stars," Didi murmured, head tilted back to take in the view. "In Chicago, you're lucky to spot the Big Dipper through the smog and light pollution."

"One of the perks of small-town life," I said, taking a pull from my beer.

"There must be others," she said, glancing my way.

"Plenty," I admitted, watching how the moonlight silvered her profile. "But right now, the view from this deck might be my favorite."

Her eyes met mine, understanding my meaning instantly. A flush spread across her cheeks that had nothing to do with the temperature.

We fell into easy conversation, the beer and the night air loosening our tongues. I found myself drawn to the way she laughed, how her hands moved expressively when she spoke, the occasional brush of her knee against mine as she shifted in her chair.

The summer heat pressed down despite the late hour, the air thick with humidity. Didi's tank top clung to her skin, her neck glistening with perspiration. I wasn't much better, my t-shirt sticking uncomfortably to my back.

"It's still so warm," she complained, fanning herself. "Even with the air conditioning inside."

An idea formed, dangerous but irresistible. "I know somewhere cooler."

Her eyebrows rose in question.

"The lake," I explained. "There's a private cove just down from the dock. Water's perfect this time of night."

"Swimming?" She looked intrigued but hesitant. "I didn't bring a suit."

The words hung between us, loaded with possibility.

"Neither did I," I said, heart pounding as our gazes locked.

A slow smile spread across her face, decision made. "Lead the way, Detective."

We walked down to the water in silence, the only sounds our footsteps on the wooden dock and the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. The lake stretched before us, a vast mirror reflecting stars and the rising moon. The air here felt marginally cooler, stirred by a light breeze off the water.

At the end of the dock, I paused, suddenly unsure. This was the point of no return. If we did this—if we crossed this line—there would be no going back to simple neighborly friendliness.

As if reading my thoughts, Didi reached for my hand, her touch grounding me. "Noah," she said softly. "I want this."

Three simple words that cleared away my doubts.

I led her to the small, secluded cove just beyond our docks, hidden from view by a stand of pines and a natural rock formation. The moon provided just enough light to see by, casting everything in silver and shadow.

Didi didn't hesitate. With a boldness that took my breath away, she crossed her arms and pulled her tank top over her head in one fluid motion. The moonlight sculpted her curves in silver, her skin luminous against the dark water.