Page 36 of Plotting Summer

“Actually,” Tristan says, and I’m sure he’s going to explain the real reason we’re matching, but instead, he holds out his phone toward Beverly. “I forgot to take a picture before we left. Any chance you could grab one for us?”

“Of course.” Beverly takes the outstretched phone and ushers us in front of the red lighthouse door. I grip my hands together, feeling all kinds of awkward now that the proximity wall has been infiltrated. “Come on, you two. If you’re chummy enough to coordinate outfits, you can get a little closer than that. Closer—” She gestures for us to move in more, and Tristan places a chummy arm around my shoulder, but Beverly’s not having it. She drops the phone and gestures to my hands. “Sweetie, you look so stiff. Why don’t you put your arm around his waist?” I’m pretty sure this woman has missed her calling as a portrait photographer.

I follow directions (because that’s who I am), and I try not to focus on every muscle fiber in Tristan’s lower back and the way my greedy little fingertips seem to be memorizing the feel of them.

“You two are just the absolute cutest.” Beverly takes a few steps toward us and grabs more pictures before passing the phone back to Tristan.

He slides it into this pocket without looking this time. “Thanks, Beverly.”

“And thanks for agreeing to give us a tour,” I say, eager to keep our conversation moving and my obstinate thoughts about Tristan’s back muscles at bay. “Tala said it was fun to see the inside of a place we’ve seen from the outside for our entire lives. A really long time ago now, I also heard this guy”—I flick my chin toward Tristan—“say that he always wanted to see the view from the top.”

This time when Tristan’s gaze settles on me, the warmth seeps into my core, making me feel as though I might overheat. Or it’s likely I’m just recovering from the impromptu photo shoot … and possibly still the bike race.

“Well, I’m just thrilled you’re both here.” Beverly claps her hands together in front of her. “The last property manager was apparently quite the recluse and hadn’t given a tour in over thirty years, but that’s not how my Bill and I plan to go about this job—and I told the City Council as much. I said, if we take on the position of managers for this historic relic, we want people to be able to visit it. Honestly, I thought they might offer the position to someone else, but I didn’t care. What’s the point of keeping a historic site in such great condition when the public that’s paying for all those repairs aren’t allowed inside? That’s nonsense. Besides, all lighthouses in the US are now automated, with the exception of the Boston Light, of course, so it’s not like there’s harm to be done by letting interested people have a look around.” Beverly finally pauses before gesturing us inside. “But you two didn’t come to hear me chatter on and on. Let’s head on in. You can leave your basket just inside so you don’t have to carry it to the top. Even without the extra weight, the climb isn’t easy, but the view from the top is worth the effort.”

Oh no, why did I think this was a good idea after a bike ride here? My legs are already protesting at the thought of it. “How many steps are there?” I ask, stepping over the threshold behind her.

“Two hundred and three.”

I glance over my shoulder at Tristan and mouth, “Two hundred and three?”

Tristan sets the basket next to the door and leans in behind me, his breath tickling my neck. “You can always hop on my back if you need to.”

The way his grinning face lingers near mine, I know his offer comes with a stipulation I’m not going to like. “And what will that cost me?”

He smiles. “Just one little answer.”

Looks like I’ll be making it to the top of the lighthouse unassisted, wobbly legs and all.

The sky is growing dark as we make our way home on the bikes.

“So, what’d you think?” I look over at Tristan, and a wave of pleasure rushes over me at the sight of him. My nervous system is obviously still getting used to our interactions. “Was it worth the wait?”

“Honestly?” His smile tells me his answer before he even speaks it. “It was awesome.” His eyes go back to the boardwalk we’re riding on. “Between the view, Beverly’s detailed story about how she and Bill met, and that food you brought, I have to admit, you came in strong with this one, Capri.”

“Not manatee strong.”

His smile grows again. “I don’t know. I’m nervous.”

“It was the Chancie’s key-lime pie that kept me in the running, wasn’t it?”

“That was a very strategic move.”

My bike bumps, and I grip the handlebar so I don’t lose control. What was that? Once I feel balanced again, I glance behind me at the boardwalk, but in the dim light, I can’t see what I could have possibly ran over.

“You good?” Tristan asks, following my gaze.

“Yeah. I must have hit a rock or something.” I turn my attention back to him. “So, what’s next for us?” My question hangs in the air for a brief moment before I think to clarify. “Outing wise.”

“What’s the key situation?”

“As of now—unchanged. This morning, I called every business on Sunset Harbor as well as the mainland parking garage, but no one has had keys turned in.” My legs are starting to burn again, despite that we are on flat ground. They’re probably near to hitting their max exertion level for the day. “Unfortunately, I’ll need to call the dealership tomorrow to place an order for a new fob.”

“What about your house keys?”

“I’ll hire a locksmith, but I have another set inside.”

“Why don’t I drive you there this weekend? You said you had a fob at your house, and if you have to pay for a locksmith anyway, it’d be the cheapest option. Plus, it’ll also give you more time for your keys to show up before you have to buy a replacement.”