Page 110 of Summer with the Single Dad

He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from her, pulling in a deep inhale and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Goodnight. Sleep tight.” Then he shut her door. He’d already said goodnight to Aya, but he poked his head in her room just to double-check and she was already passed out in her contorted starfish shape again, with no covers. She’d also ditched her pajamas and wore nothing but underwear.

Huffing a laugh, he headed downstairs to where Justine sat with her laptop in the living room. She looked at home in his home and he really liked that. Her feet—bare and with a light purple polish on the toes—were propped up on his square, leather ottoman-slash-coffee-table, and her brows pinched together in a cute way as she read something on her screen.

He went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “You want a beer?”

“Hmm? Pardon?”

“Would you like a beer?”

“Oh! Um … sure.”

He grabbed the same summer sour for her as he did himself and popped both caps before he left the kitchen. They were extra cold—just the way he liked them.

He sat down beside her on the couch, passing her a beer. “What’s that?”

“Brooke wasn’t kidding when she said there was no land for sale here.”

“You looking to buy?” He could not name or describe the first emotion that popped into his body at the idea of her buying land here. Giddy? No. That wasn’t it. He liked it, but he also didn’t.

He liked it because she was entertaining the idea of staying on the island. But he didn’t like it because it would mean she wasn’t here. With him. In his house. On his property. In his bed.

Conflicted was what he was.

“I really like it here,” she said sweetly, taking a sip of the beer. She made a face that said she wasn’t sure about what sat on her tongue. Then she swallowed. “I’m not usually a beer drinker. But … Emme and I had a big discussion about risks and trying new things today. So I figured I better practice what I preach.”

“And?”

“It’s not bad. I don’t think I could have more than one of these, as I would feel very bloated, but it’s nice and cold. Has a great sour punch at the end. It’s quite refreshing.”

“I’ll be sure to give Clint your feedback, verbatim.”

She smirked. “Is the submission for Bonn Remmen’s land open to anyone? Or do they have to be an island resident?”

He hadn’t told her about Bonn’s land, at least not in great detail. Not that it was a secret, or anything he was deliberately keeping from her. It just hadn’t organically come up.

“Uh … I think anybody can apply. I’ve heard rumors that big hotel chains and shit are submitting proposals. They’ll be burned in a bonfire as the Elders dance naked around the flames, but they’re welcome to waste their time to try.”

“That’s an image I wasn’t prepared to conjure,” she said blandly while making a mild face of disgust. “A bunch of octogenarian hippies dancing in their birthday suits. Exposing all that wrinkly flesh—”

“And excess body hair.”

She shuddered, and he laughed. “—To flames. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Well, you should have been here last week on the solstice when they actually had their big naked party around a bonfire.”

Her eyes nearly shot out of her skull. “Uh, no thanks.”

“Nobody got burned. But some tourists who reported smoke, then went to see if they could take care of the fire themselves, were in for a shock.”

“You’re kidding right? This has to be a joke.”

“Your BFF Keturah is one of the leading forces behind it remaining nude. They even do it in the winter. Says it keeps them young.”

“Hippies,” she murmured.

“And you want to move here and join them, don’t you? Strip down and dance around the flames with Abe, Hattie, Sunflower, Keturah, and the rest of them. Admit it.”

“If that’s what it takes to get some land, then sign me up.”

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