Page 7

"What's up? Nothing much," Kyle replied. "Just calling to see if you're planning to make an appearance at the Petersons' beach bonfire tonight."

"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—she still 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.

"I haven't had s'mores since I was a kid," she admitted, licking a smudge of chocolate from her thumb.

"Best enjoyed with good company," Howard said with a wink in my direction.

Ruth Anderson, the resort owner, joined their circle and soon had Didi laughing about “Flessie,” the legendary lake monster of Montana’s Flathead Lake, said to rival “Bessie,” that of neighboring Lake Erie.

Across the fire, Kyle caught my eye and gave me an exaggerated thumbs-up that prompted an eye roll.

"She's lovely," Martha Peterson said quietly, appearing at my side with a s’more. She handed me one, her kind eyes warm in the firelight. "It's nice to see new faces at our gatherings. The same lake stories get old after a while."

I accepted the gooey treat with a nod of thanks. "She's my neighbor, just moved into Cabin 7 yesterday."

"Well, we're glad you brought her," Martha said simply. "Howard loves having new audiences for his terrible jokes."

A smile formed as I found Didi again across the fire.

She was helping a young girl perfect her marshmallow roasting technique, demonstrating how to keep it just above the flames.

As if sensing my attention, she looked up, our eyes meeting over the fire.

Her expression softened into a look of quiet understanding that seemed meant only for me before returning to her marshmallow mentoring.

The bonfire began winding down around midnight, with families with children departing first, followed gradually by others. Kyle had wandered off with a pretty tourist from California, and eventually only a handful of people remained.

"Ready to head back?" I asked Didi, noting the fatigue beginning to show in her eyes despite her animated conversation with the Petersons.

"Yes, please," she said, stifling a yawn. "It's been a long day."

We said our goodbyes, with Martha insisting we join them for a ride on their pontoon sometime soon. To my surprise, Didi agreed readily, genuinely charmed by the elderly couple.

The walk back featured a peaceful quiet between us as we followed the moonlit path. When we reached her cabin, she paused on the steps, turning to face me.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For dinner, for the bonfire... for making me feel welcome."

"You did that yourself," I replied honestly. "Everyone loved you."

She glanced down briefly, then back up, her green eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Still, it was nice not feeling like a stranger."

We stood there, the night wrapping around us, neither moving to leave.

Her gaze drifted to my lips then back to my eyes, a silent invitation my body responded to instantly.

Every nerve ending sparked with awareness of her—how easily I could close the distance, discover if her lips tasted as sweet as they looked.

But something held me back—not just professional caution, but the sense that whatever was happening between us deserved more than rushed impulse. She was hiding something significant, and I was nothing if not thorough.

"Goodnight, Didi from Chicago," I said, my voice rougher than intended.

"Goodnight, Detective Mountain Man," she replied, disappointment mingling with desire in her eyes.

She turned and entered her cabin, glancing back once before closing the door. I remained on the path for a moment, my body rigid with restraint, desire pulsing through me at the memory of how she'd looked at me.

Whatever secrets she was keeping, whatever had brought her to Hope Peak—it could wait. For now, knowing the attraction wasn't one-sided was enough.

I walked back to my cabin under the stars, the memory of her smile and the scent of her perfume lingering in my thoughts, already counting the hours until I'd see her again.