Page 37 of When Summer Returns

“Well, it’s probably nothing to worry about yet,” he said. “Plenty of these systems fall apart before they reach us.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then we’ll deal with it. Together.” The word hung between them, weighted with implications that extended far beyond weather patterns.

She held his gaze for a long moment before nodding once. “Together.”

* * *

The dinner crowd surged and ebbed like the tide, a constant flow of locals and tourists mingling with the practiced ease that only island living cultivated. Ceiling fans spun lazily overhead, stirring air thick with the aromas of Mateo’s seafood creations, tropical cocktails, and the indefinable scent of salt air and sunscreen that accompanied summer on Seeker’s Island.

Luke moved through the organized chaos with the confidence of a conductor leading a complex symphony. Every step had purpose, every interaction calibrated to maintain the delicate balance between efficiency and island-casual hospitality. From his position at the bar, he could monitor all aspects of service while greeting regulars and troubleshooting the inevitable minor crises that accompanied a busy night.

His attention kept drifting to Jessie, who had taken to her role behind the bar with surprising ease. She moved with growing confidence between stations, her natural poise and quick learning curve transforming her from novice to capable assistant in a remarkably short time. Miguel worked beside her, their choreography increasingly smooth as she anticipated his needs before he voiced them.

More surprising was the way she interacted with the customers—her professional reserve gradually giving way to genuine warmth as she recognized faces from her youth or formed connections with regular patrons. The careful armor she’d worn upon her arrival was slowly being replaced by something more authentic, more present.

“Well, I’ll be!” The voice—loud, female, and vibrating with enthusiasm—cut through the ambient restaurant noise like a foghorn. A woman in her early thirties with a cloud of red curls and a constellation of freckles across sun-kissed skin pushed through the crowd at the bar, her bright smile revealing slightly crooked teeth.

Jessie’s expression transformed with delighted recognition. “Tammy Simmons? Is that really you?”

“The one and only,” the woman confirmed, leaning across the bar to envelop Jessie in a fierce hug that nearly knocked over a row of carefully arranged glasses. “Though it’s Tammy Rodriguez now. Married Carlos from the charter boat ten years ago, if you can believe it.”

“The one you said had the mental capacity of a sea cucumber?”

“The very same,” Tammy confirmed with a grin. “Turns out sea cucumbers make excellent husbands. Who knew?”

Luke watched as years of careful composure melted from Jessie’s face, replaced by the unguarded joy of reconnecting with an old friend. This was a Jessie he’d rarely glimpsed since her return—carefree, animated, her green eyes sparkling with genuine pleasure.

“Three kids now,” Tammy continued, pulling out her phone to display photos of children with their mother’s wild hair and their father’s dark eyes. “The oldest is already terrorizing the island just like we did.”

“No one could terrorize the island like we did,” Jessie countered, examining the photos with genuine interest. “Remember stealing Mr. Donovan’s boat for midnight joyrides?”

“Remember? I still have nightmares about getting caught!” Tammy laughed, tucking her phone away. “And that time we convinced Jake Wells to buy us wine coolers, then threw up all over old Mrs. Bennington’s prize hydrangeas?”

“We were horrible,” Jessie agreed, her smile reaching her eyes in a way Luke hadn’t seen since her return. “How did anyone put up with us?”

“Small island, limited entertainment options,” Luke interjected, setting a vibrant coral-colored rum punch in front of Tammy. “On the house, for old times’ sake.”

“Luke Mallory,” Tammy greeted him with the same exuberance. “Still the most responsible delinquent on the island. I hear you two are business partners now. Talk about full circle!”

“Something like that,” Luke said, exchanging a glance with Jessie that contained more than casual acknowledgment.

“You should have seen this one,” Tammy said, gesturing at Jessie with her cocktail glass. “Fearless. Absolutely fearless. Remember when you climbed the water tower on a dare and nearly gave Sheriff Biggs a heart attack?”

“I wasn’t fearless,” Jessie protested, though her smile remained. “Just reasonably confident in my climbing abilities.”

“And what about when you convinced half the senior class to skinny-dip at Seeker’s Spring during that thunderstorm?” Tammy continued, warming to her subject.

“That was your idea,” Jessie countered. “I just provided the transportation.”

“In old Jesse’s boat,” Tammy added, her expression clouding before brightening again. “God, we were stupid. Brilliant, but stupid.”

The mention of her father’s boat sent a cold ripple down Jessie’s spine, momentarily dimming the warmth of reunion. She remembered all too well the aftermath of that particular adventure—her father’s rage when he’d discovered the boat had been moved, the brutal punishment that followed. She’d missed three days of school, telling everyone including Luke that she had a bad case of the flu and to stay away. In reality, she’d been unable to move without pain, her ribs so badly bruised that even breathing hurt. She’d become skilled at hiding the worst of her father’s abuse, but that time had been particularly severe.

Jessie forced a smile, pushing the memories back into their carefully constructed compartment. “We survived, though. That’s something.”

She caught Luke watching her, his perceptive gaze suggesting he’d noticed her momentary retreat into darkness. She’d forgotten how well he could read her, even after all these years.

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