Page 98 of Plotting Summer

He leads me from the kitchen, down the hallway, and up the stairs. The Palmer’s layout is a near replica to Tala’s house, and when we climb the stairs, Tristan stops me. “This is the surprise.”

I glance around, again not exactly sure what I’m supposed to be looking at, when my gaze falls on a framed gallery wall that wasn’t there before. I step closer, studying the picture in the frame closest to me. It’s of me and Tristan at the lighthouse. And the one next to it is us with the kayak, my frown and lowered shoulders making me smile. And there’s one with our robes and my gigantic smile at the spa. And on Winn Island. And watching fireworks on the Fourth. But as I continue to look at the pictures, not all of them are of the two of us.

“Where did you get these?” I ask, my hand settling on a picture of Beau, Walker, Jane, Tristan, and me when we were still in middle school, eating popsicles on the back porch together. Another one at a neighborhood BBQ where I’m sandwiched between Beau and Tristan, a bashful smile on my face and my body awkwardly stiff. And Grandpa, Dad, and me sitting on the back dock with our feet dangling in the water. The classic photo of Tala, Walker, and me with our Fourth of July sparklers that hung on my grandma’s wall for years. Along with the fishing one. One of the Palmer family at the beach. And a picture of young Beau and Tristan with their arms slung around each other and gaps of missing teeth in their big smiles.

“Gathering the pictures was a team effort between Tala, our moms, and your grandma, then I had them printed out and framed.” He glances over the gallery wall, a satisfied smile on his lips. “Tala also hung them up because it was proving a lot harder than I was thinking it’d be.”

Tears prick my eyes. “You did this for me?”

“That day we saw the manatees, you said you weren’t sure where you belonged anymore. That your memories of your life on Sunset Harbor were either fading away or packed in boxes.” Tristan runs his hands down my arms, causing a shiver to move through me. “So, I decided to unpack your old memories and display the new ones along with them. Because this is where you belong, Capri. With me. On our little island.”

I cover my mouth with my hand, glancing at the wall again, and I’m certain my heart is on the brink of exploding. I’ve never felt so understood. And loved. And cherished. But emotion is choking out all the words I want to say, so instead, I throw my arms around him and kiss him like he deserves to be kissed.

After several glorious minutes, I pull back. My gaze falls on the pictures again, and I still can’t believe Tristan made a gallery wall of us. “How does Beau feel about this montage being here?”

“You would be thinking about Beau right now.”

I laugh. “I just can’t help myself.”

Tristan chuckles. “I bought out Beau’s interest in the house. He moved out this last week.”

I stare at him. “Where’s he going?”

“He’s making plans of his own.”

“So the house is yours?”

“It’s ours, Capri. If this is where you want to be. If it’s not, we can rent it and figure the rest out.”

My smile is so big I’m certain I’ve stretched it to a new limit. “This is exactly where I want to be. And you’re exactly who I want to be here with.”

“Good. Because it turns out all of my best memories on this island are with you. And I can’t wait to keep making more.”

ONE YEAR LATER

I’m sitting inside a back room at The Book Isle with Tristan in the chair beside me, his arm casually draped behind me and his other hand reaching across his body to hold mine, as we listen to dear Mrs. McMannus explain how things are going to work for the book signing tonight. It’s for my upcoming release, Along for the Tide, which is a sequel to Secret Crush. Tristan and I dropped off a copy at Bridget’s parents’ house a few days ago with an apology letter tucked inside. They said they’d be willing to get it to her and even congratulated us on getting married before we left.

Mrs. McMannus’s graying hair is short and styled around her face in curls, and her light eyes sparkle as she talks with animated gestures. “Tickets sold out so quickly that we decided to move it to the town square to accommodate more people.” Mrs. McMannus’s round cheeks lift, and she looks near giddy with excitement. “And that sold out too. Not that I’m surprised considering you’re doing an early release for us. It has put our online sales through the roof.” She glances down at my ink-stained hand. “But I’m sure you’re well aware with how many books you already had to sign this week.”

Tristan’s thumb rubs along the outside of my palm, and it makes my hand tingle all the way up into my arm. “I’m so happy to hear that,” I say. “Thanks for setting this whole thing up.”

“Of course! We all absolutely love you. Our own Sunset Harbor celebrity.” She gives a little laugh. “Well, we have a few of those, don’t we?”

Most locals would assume she’s referring to Noah and the Belacourt clan, though I suspect she’s talking about Presley James—America’s darling—who is not only starring in Secret Crush (I can hardly believe the movie’s premiere is next month!), but was rumored to have spent quite a bit of time at The Book Isle while she was hiding out on the island. Whether Mrs. McMannus’s son running the bookshop had anything to do with her frequent visits, is up for debate. But my writer’s brain is keen to assume that behind the rumors is a really great story worth knowing.

Mrs. McMannus glances at her watch and lets out a little gasp. “Oh, I’d better go get this thing started. Once I welcome everyone and we explain the raffle, you can come outside for the Q&A.”

“And does Capri come back in here for the signing after?” Tristan asks. “In the air conditioning?”

I squeeze Tristan’s hand, barely restraining my eye roll at his question.

“Yes. We’ll have her at a table near the back of the store so we can fit as many people inside as possible. Not everyone is used to this humidity. In fact, several of the people who came in before we closed the shop mentioned that they traveled in for this. One gal came all the way from Alberta, Canada. Oh, and one from … Idaho or was it Iowa? Anyway, it’s not close.” She glances at her watch again. “But there I go rattling on. If you need anything during any part of the evening, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, Mrs. McMannus,” I say.

“Call me Marianne.” We follow her into the main area of the bookshop, and she stops us next to the door. “You can wait here until I introduce you. Otherwise, no one will listen to a thing I say.” Then she slides out the door.

I scan the crowd of faces from behind the glass door, picking out several familiar ones all sitting together: Cat, Holland, Gemma, and Ivy. I also know my whole family and Jane are here somewhere, but I can’t see them from where I’m standing. And Joy texted to say her and Mark are on the third row toward the middle, and that Beau’s the on-duty officer for the event.