Page 2 of When Summer Returns

That moment had transformed him, igniting an anger that simmered just beneath his surface for years, causing island residents to give him a wide berth as he’d channeled his pain into drinking and brawling. But that was the past. He’d learned to control that particular fire, though it still smoldered within him.

And now Jessie was coming back. The thought alone rekindled that dormant anger. This was his island—his sanctuary—and she no longer belonged here.

According to local wisdom, wishes were only granted at the precise spot where cold and hot waters merged. No wonder his first attempt had failed—he’d been in entirely the wrong location.

Luke positioned himself carefully among the rocks and stood to his full height. The wind picked up suddenly, as if nature itself recognized his foolishness. He smiled wryly as it gusted harder, slapping waterfall spray across his face. Thunder rumbled in the distance. With his luck, the spring would answer his request by sending a hurricane to wipe out the entire island.

A flicker of concern rose when his flashlight sputtered several times before dying completely, leaving him in near-total darkness. Fortunately, he knew every inch of the island and could navigate it blindfolded if necessary, though preferably not during a raging storm.

“All right, Mallory. Time to put up or shut up.”

The conflicting temperatures from the spring and waterfall raised goose bumps across his skin. The water stung like needles as the wind drove it against his face.

“I’m not going to spell everything out,” he called over the approaching storm. “According to the legend, you already know what’s in my heart. So I’m simply asking for my heart’s desire, whatever that may be.”

Speaking the words aloud didn’t diminish his feeling of absurdity, but at least he’d completed the ritual. Now he could return to the bar—hisbar, regardless of what the lawyer’s letter stated. He had inventory to check and orders to place. Old Jesse James remained a thorn in his side even from the grave.

The approaching storm would be bad for business, and if the waves grew too high, the ferry might not deliver the fresh catch scheduled for the dinner crowd.

Just as he prepared to leave the waterfall’s spray, lightning split the sky with a tremendous crack. The hairs on his arms stood at attention, and the sharp scent of ozone filled his nostrils.

“Not the answer I was looking for,” he muttered, diving into the water and swimming furiously toward the opposite edge where his clothes waited. The last thing he needed was to be struck by lightning and discovered unclothed, floating lifelessly in the hot springs.

Though rain hadn’t yet begun falling, the darkness of the sky suggested he had just enough time to reach the bar before the deluge. He pulled on his clothes without bothering to dry off, shook water from his hair, and grabbed the useless flashlight before sliding into his flip-flops. His golf cart waited a quarter mile down the path, and he jogged down the steep incline, swatting foliage from his face.

Another rumble of thunder sounded, considerably closer this time. He climbed into the golf cart and backed up carefully before turning around. The wind had intensified by the time he emerged from the tree cover onto the coastal road leading to Seeker’s Paradise, the bar and grill he’d poured twelve years of his life into building. He wouldn’t have acquired it at all if not for old Jesse.

Jesse had been a silent partner, providing the other 50 percent of the necessary capital with the promise that if anything happened to him, his shares would transfer to Luke. But when old Jesse died, Luke discovered the man had never intended to keep that promise. He’d given the other half of Seeker’s Paradise to the daughter who had abandoned him fifteen years earlier.

The betrayal darkened Luke’s mood to match the sky, and he pressed harder on the accelerator, seeking the rush of speed he’d craved constantly after she’d left.

Waves crashed violently against the shoreline as Luke mentally reviewed his preparations for the day ahead. The rain would be inconvenient but manageable. The bar would still fill by dinnertime, though he’d need to worry about waitresses slipping on wet floors and the possibility of power outages.

People enjoyed their drinks and conversation regardless of weather. He personally didn’t understand the appeal of the latter, though he absolutely comprehended the allure of the former. Not a day passed without temptation to pour himself a glass and join the regulars at the counter. The need accompanied every drink he served, but he relished the pain of his hard-won self-control. He’d found other outlets to distract himself from temptation.

The sky opened just as he pulled the golf cart beneath the covered patio near the kitchen, unleashing a torrent of raindrops followed by another flash of lightning. Despite his sprint to the door, he was thoroughly soaked by the time he unlocked the kitchen entrance and pushed inside.

He kicked off his flip-flops and pulled off his sodden shirt as he slammed the door behind him, muttering under his breath. His first priority was securing the screens on the windward side of the bar to prevent the interior from flooding, and there was no sense changing into dry clothes until that task was complete.

He took a moment to unlock the kitchen door that opened into the bar itself. Seeker’s Paradise resembled a large, square tiki hut—substantial bamboo posts anchored each corner, and the roof featured thatch that mimicked traditional straw construction. The bar formed a square directly in the center, enabling patrons to sit at the long expanse of polished wood on all sides. The liquor cabinets and kitchen were locked nightly, but the restaurant itself remained open since it had no walls.

Luke pushed through the kitchen door, grabbing the long hook he kept nearby to pull down the protective screens. The roof’s overhang usually kept rain at bay, but not when it blew horizontally as it did now.

He’d just slipped the hook through the eyelet at the ceiling’s edge when awareness prickled at the base of his spine. He wasn’t alone. Luke’s shoulders tensed, but he continued his task without interruption. The island boasted remarkably low crime rates, but trouble occasionally washed ashore. If someone intended to rob him, they faced profound disappointment. He deposited cash every night, making the liquor inventory the only items of significant value on the premises.

He tugged the screen downward, securing it with a rattle and clank as it hit the floor. Bending to fasten it in place, he waited for whoever lurked in the shadows to make their move. No rush of movement or approaching footsteps disturbed the stillness.

His fingers tightened around the hook as he straightened, turning slowly to face the intruder.

The sight of her stopped his heart.

City girl.

She’d changed in the fifteen years since he’d last seen her. The girl had become a woman, but her former softness had vanished. A short crop of black hair framed her face, making her emerald-green eyes appear impossibly large and her cheekbones more pronounced.

She’d always been slender and willowy, with legs that seemed to go on forever. The emerald sundress she wore matched the shade of the moss surrounding the springs he’d just visited, ending just above her knees. Her narrow feet were strapped into white sandals that crisscrossed up to her ankles with elegant precision.

“Hello, Luke.” Her voice retained the sultry undertones of the South, the sound sending a current of recognition through him. That voice had haunted his dreams for fifteen years.

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