One Short Summer (Sample Chapters)

*Prologue*

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*****

One year ago

Gabe

Our bodies are amazing. They pretty much function on their own without a second thought. Reflexes and muscle memory kick in the second we don't pay attention to what we do.

It's nothing short of a miracle.

A miracle I'm endlessly grateful for as I jog across the lawn, Monica held tightly in my arms, while I run as far as I can to escape the blasting heat behind us.

Unintelligible words want to come out of my mouth, but the sirens of the fire truck barreling toward us puts a quick end to it, my words carried away on the light summer breeze.

The scene around us has me in a trance, holding me prisoner, so much I don't fully realize I'm still holding Monica until one of the paramedics directs me to set her down in the ambulance. I absentmindedly listen to their conversation while the woman checks out Monica, who has started rehashing what happened between coughs.

That she started to make popcorn right after taking her pain medicine, which left her drowsier than she thought it would. That she passed out on the couch when she just wanted to rest for a second after putting the oil in the pan to heat up. That she woke up startled when I ran into the guesthouse like a bulldozer, picked her up and carried her outside, just as the flames from the small kitchenette slowly started to crawl over to the living room.

My brain keeps replaying the last ten minutes over and over, and I know I will never forget this night. The moment I returned from my evening run, exhausted from the workout, but still able to sprint to the guesthouse the moment I saw smoke crawling through the bathroom and kitchen windows.

It takes my body a long time to shake the adrenaline, leaving me spent like I just ran a marathon after my workout. We silently watch the firefighters take care of the fire, thankful for the lawn chairs someone pulled over for us.

Monica's head turns in my direction, her green eyes wide as she stares at me. Her mouth opens and closes several times before the words come out. "Gabe, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry."

This is not the first time she's apologized, and I expect it won't be the last time either.

Shaking my head, I close my eyes for a moment before looking at her. "Stop apologizing. It was an accident."

"It was stupid and shouldn't have happened." Her mouth sets into a grim line, and I'm sure she's beating herself up like there's no tomorrow.

Unwelcome thoughts of how this could have ended badly try to make their way into my mind, but I push them away. Everything turned out to be okay, generallyspeaking at least. I wasn't able to catch more than a quick glance at the damage, but without a doubt, the cottage is unlivable for now. Maybe ever.

Yet, it could have been a lot worse.

So much worse.

Monica's crutches rest on the side of her chair, courtesy of one of the firefighters bringing them over when he noticed her casted leg.

Safe to say, her stay in Brooksville after her accident hasn't been off to the best start so far.

The phone beeps in her lap and she picks it up to look at the message. "Charlie and Hudson will be here soon. Do you think I can go inside and get some of my stuff for the hotel?"

When on earth did she have time to message her best friend and my brother?

She points toward the little cottage several yards away—my guesthouse—that's now gray and black on the siding where the smoke was able to creep outside.

"Gabe?"

Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts, my brain still having a hard time letting go of this scene in front of us.

My eyes scan over her face, appraising the dark circles that have deeply settled under her eyes, the playful and flirty expression I've come to expect since she arrived in Brooksville a few weeks ago now completely wiped from her face. The words finally sink in. "Hotel? What are you talking about?"

Her brows furrow. "My opinion hasn't changed about Charlie and Hudson. I don't want to intrude on their space. Their relationship is still so fresh, and I don't want to be the third wheel. So...hotel, it is."

"Don't be stupid, Monica. You're not going anywhere. You'll stay with me at the house." The words come out rougher than intended, and by the way she crosses her arms in front of her, it's easy to see she's about to fight me on this.

Not that I expect anything less from this firecracker.

But I'm not planning on losing this battle.

*****

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