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The Summer I Saved You (The Summer #2)(71)

Author:Elizabeth O'Roark

She pauses in the middle of fastening her seat belt. “What happens if she gets those divorce papers and comes running back home to talk him out of it? Are you sure he’ll still go through with everything?”

This entire time, I’ve pictured it occurring at a distance—his wife in another state, Caleb here. I never pictured them coming face-to-face again.

“Of course I’m sure,” I reply.

She winces. We’ve both heard the truth in my voice, if not my words: I’m not sure about that. I’m not sure at all.

ON FRIDAY, Molly comes over for dinner, and once the twins are in their pajamas and settled in front of a movie, I get dressed, with the new lingerie on underneath. “Don’t feel like you need to come home,” Molly says as she walks me to the door. “Your kids, like, make their own breakfast and shit, right?”

“I think maybe I’ll plan on coming home.”

“Oh, and text me as soon as he’s seen the bra. If I had your rack, I’d be in Michael’s office this minute doing jumping jacks. Maybe I’ll try that anyway. I bet he’s still at work.”

I fumble for my keys. “You’re babysitting, so you can’t just leave.”

Molly waves a dismissive hand in the kids’ direction. “They’re six. In pioneer days, they’d be married off and starting families of their own by now. They’ll be fine for an hour.”

I laugh as I head to the car, thinking she’s more likely to create an elaborate plan in which Michael discovers her doing jumping jacks—probably while kidnapped—than go to the office.

I drive to the bar where I met Harrison for the first time, a bar which is apparently owned by Caleb’s friend Beck.

Harrison warned us not to do anything that might make us appear to be a couple, but that doesn’t stop Caleb from running a hand over my hip when I walk up to him at the bar and giving me a longer look than he should, head to toe. “We don’t have to stay,” he says, doing a double take when he glimpses my bra strap. “Red?”

“Early birthday gift from Molly.”

His eyes darken, and he gives the biggest, fakest yawn I’ve ever seen. “I’m exhausted. It’s time to go.”

“Really subtle, you two,” says Harrison, who I hadn’t even noticed. “Hey, Beck, come over here and stare into my eyes for a while. You know, the way friends do.”

The tiny, elegant woman beside Harrison waves. “I’m Audrey, Harrison’s wife.”

She’s not at all what I expected, with her glossy black bob and pedicure to match, her Fendi bag and enough diamonds on her wrist and ears to support a starving village.

I wonder if Kate was pulled together like this too. If she had perfect hair and couldn’t imagine biting her nails the way I do.

Caleb leans close to my ear. “What do you want to drink? Choose something strong because we’re leaving the second it’s done.”

“Surprise me,” I reply, grinning at the filthy look that flashes over his face.

While he turns to the bar, Harrison introduces me to Liam and Beck, both of whom I recognize from childhood—Liam because he has the same wide smile and Beck because he remains the massive hulk of a man he was at age twelve, standing at least four inches taller than Caleb, who’s six-two, and at least six inches wider.

“The infamous Lucie,” he says, raising a brow. “I figured we’d meet you eventually. Caleb’s been talking about you incessantly since you moved in.”

“I wouldn’t say it was incessant,” Caleb argues over his shoulder, still waiting on my drink.

Beck and Harrison exchange a look and laugh.

“It was incessant,” Harrison confirms.

“I was mostly complaining about how you were spending all my money,” Caleb says, handing me a neon-blue drink garnished with about seventeen pieces of fruit on top. “Here you go. It seemed like a fitting drink for the Pineapple Princess.”

“You truly have no understanding of our area’s vegetation and produce.”

We look at each other and smile, prompting another groan from Harrison. “For fuck’s sake. Stop that.”

We do our insufficient best, but it’s not much of an effort. The guys start talking about some fight they got in with a rival football team in high school, and through it all, Caleb’s gaze keeps reverting to mine—a knowing little look I like way too much. I can’t wait to show him the lingerie.

The football discussion turns into an argument over whose fault the fight was. Caleb gives me an apologetic smile as he crosses the bar with the guys to ask a classmate to settle it, and Audrey moves into the seat he vacated. “He’s so different with you,” she muses.

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