Endless Summer Nights

Book 4 in the Windy Harbor series

Chapter 1

I Know That Laugh

Tully

It’s been the perfect Minnesota summer—not just the weather, but the time with my family, the peace and quiet. I needed it desperately.

Hockey season is almost nonstop noise. Planes, arenas, reporters, fans banging on glass, the rush of a game, lots and lots of sticks hitting pucks, and—okay, sometimes some fists colliding with hard bodies—and my phone buzzing nonstop.

I love the game, and I love the grind, but this season nearly took me out. My dad was diagnosed with cancer a while back, and he’s been doing well after chemo, but it’s taken a toll on my siblings and me. Every minute I was away from Windy Harbor, I wrestled with worry and guilt. It’s a whole different kind of FOMO when you’re dealing with the scary illness of someone you love.

I had meetings this week in the Twin Cities, so when I drive into Windy Harbor, something in my chest loosens that I didn’t even know was tight. The little town rises ahead of me like a postcard, the colorful, quaint buildings set against a sweeping backdrop of water that looks more like ocean than lake.

I grin like a madman when I see Windhaven—the resort Dad wanted to resemble a mini-Rivendell. The view of the beautiful grounds and the top-notch resort against Lake Superior will not get old anytime soon.

I’m not ready to retire from the NHL yet, but it won’t be long. I’m twenty-seven, and in hockey years, that means I’m about to age out. I’d like to go out on top, and when I do, I can’t wait to be in Windy Harbor full-time, helping run the place with my siblings.

I’ve got a great condo in St. Paul, and we have a beautiful home on Summit Avenue there, but the family’s lake house on the water in Windy Harbor is feeling more and more like home.

I turn down the drive, cabins peeking through the trees, the resort up ahead. A couple of kids chase each other with pool noodles near the beach. The sound of their laughter makes me smile.

I park by the resort instead of our house because I think that’s where most of my family is right now. The view of the lake makes me pause and take note. Sunlight scatters like diamonds floating to the surface. So many memories flood back when I’m here. I’m a twin, so I came into this world being uniquely connected to my sister Goldie, and we still are, but we’re also close to our brothers, and this water and these woods are engraved like road maps within the five of us. I think my parents felt that way too, and that’s why, now that my mom is gone and my dad is facing his own mortality, we’re all clinging to this land like a lifeline.

All right, that’s enough deep shit for the day, I tell myself.

I push out of the car, stretch, and roll my shoulders. Everything in me feels lighter already.

Until…

Her laugh hits first. I’d know that sound underwater, in traffic, in a coma. Her laugh has always been one of my favorite things about her. It cuts through the noise now, like it’s fine-tuned for me specifically. I turn without meaning to, already knowing I shouldn’t, but when I do, the lightness in me dies so fast it hurts.

Lola Donavan.

She’s standing near the lodge steps, sunglasses pushed up into her blonde hair, one hand on the strap of a canvas bag. Same soft mouth. Same eyes that always looked like she knew something I didn’t. Same blinding beauty that renders me speechless.

She has more tattoos than the last time I saw her. I want to inspect each one. She’s the one who gave me my first tattoo, but not the last.

She’s the woman who got away.

My heart does this hard, stupid thud like I just got checked into the boards.

I’m about to say hello when a guy walks over to her and puts his hand on her back—no, that’s not quite right, it’s that place that’s so far down her back that it’s almost her ass. A little groan escapes my mouth, but thankfully, they’re not close enough to hear me. He leans in to say something in her ear, and she laughs again.

There’s something familiar about the guy, and I move a little closer and freeze again.

Patrick fucking Martin from the fucking Dallas Suns.

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

He’s the reason we lost the playoffs. Well, that’s not entirely true either, but it’s close. Ever since Dad got sick, I haven’t been performing at my best. Our last game, we played hard—just not hard enough—and Martin and I ended up dropping the gloves. He’d been in my ear all night. That part I could handle. But the hacking at my hands, the cross-checks after whistles…that kind of thing builds. Then he boarded Silas, and something in me just snapped.

I went after him.

He didn’t look much better than I did after, but they still got the win. So all I had to show for it were sore knuckles and a loss that hurt even more.

Don’t react. Don’t react. Just don’t.

I almost laugh. It comes out like a choke instead.

I thought she didn’t want the spotlight. She said she wasn’t sure she could handle the schedules and road trips and games that mattered more than dinners with her. Wasn’t sure she could handle falling for someone the whole world also had a claim on.

Guess the problem wasn’t the spotlight.

Guess it was just…me.

He brushes his thumb against her hip, absent, familiar. She doesn’t move it away. Something ugly and hot climbs up my throat. I can’t stand here. I can’t let her turn her head and find me watching like some creep who never got over her.

Even though that’s exactly what I am.

I step back, slowly at first, and then I move, head down, as fast as I can. My car is ten yards away. That might as well be a mile. If I start it, she might glance over. Instead, I cut left and head to our boat. My little brother Dylan, who at six foot five has two inches on me, takes our guests on excursions, and even if he’s not on the boat right now, I’ll be able to hide out there for a minute. As long as he’s not out on the water with it.

The boat is there, rocking gently as water slaps the hull. Dylan isn’t too far away, talking to his girlfriend, so I pass them and ask my brother if we can talk, then pace the shoreline, trying to get my shit under control before confining myself on a boat.

“Hey, man.”

Dylan’s hand lands on my shoulder, and I jump, turning to see him alone.

“Come on,” he says. “We can take the boat out for a few minutes while you tell me what’s going on. You look like you need to decompress.”

We walk onto the boat and sit down. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes until stars burst.

“She’s here,” I say.

“Who’s here?”

When I don’t answer right away, he asks again.

My body feels like it’s slogging through the lake in heavy winter gear, but somehow I drag my eyes to his.

“Lola Donavan. Here. At Windhaven. With Patrick Martin from the fucking Dallas Suns.”

“What? Are you sure it was her?” He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, and I nod.

“One hundred percent sure.”

“Did she see you?”

“No, I got the hell out of there. She was with Patrick Martin from the fucking Dallas Suns!” I repeat, unsure if he heard that part.

“He’s a fucking menace out on the ice,” he says, finally sounding as bitter as I want him to. “Wait. With Patrick…what do you mean exactly? You think they’re together? Like together together?”

My teeth grind together. “His hand was really low on her back. Really low.”

“Fuck,” he says. “What are you gonna do? Are you gonna talk to her?”

I’ve hardly talked to my family about Lola. We were in a college relationship that I thought was going somewhere, but it didn’t. They never even met her, but they knew at the time that I was crazy about her.

“Want me to check out the situation?”

“Nah. I just saw them and panicked. Had to get out of there fast. But I’ll probably lie low for a couple of days. I’ll see if there are things I can do to help Noah on Goldie’s house or something away from the resort.”

“Okay. If you change your mind, let me know. I can do some recon.”

“Thanks…thanks for listening. I…sorry. Kind of had a moment. I feel better.”

“Okay. Good. I’m here. If you need to chat again, I’ll be around.”

I give him what I’m sure doesn’t quite pass as a smile. “Thanks, man.”

Instead of heading straight to Goldie’s, I go through the woods to the house. It’s not too far. When I see Grandma Donna sitting on the Friendship Bench, and she’s alone, it seems meant to be. My grandma has taken a bench in the gardens and turned it into a place where she hands out free therapy and knitted trinkets. It’s actually quite sweet how the town has taken to her. The last time I was home, I set up an online appointment system for her, since it was getting confusing with all the sign-up sheets around Windy Harbor.

She gasps when she sees me. “Sweetheart! You startled me. I didn’t know you were back already. That was a quick trip.”

I bend down and kiss her cheek and sit down next to her. “Sorry to startle you. Am I interrupting anyone’s appointment?”

I look around but don’t see anyone.

“I have a half-hour window,” she says.

My lips tilt up when I look at her. “Sign me up.”

“You look sad,” she says gently.

I huff a breath through my nose. “Yeah.”

She nudges my knee with hers. “Can I help?”

My throat tightens for no good reason.

“You’re helping just by being you,” I tell her.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m good at that.” She smiles, settling back.

I laugh under my breath. We sit a second longer, shoulder to shoulder.

“Since you don’t seem to want to talk about you, Camden sent me a picture of one of his meals last night,” she says. “It’s had me craving his food all day.”

“Dude can cook and plate it to perfection.”

She laughs, bright and sudden. “Meanwhile, little Grayson was thrilled to get a dinosaur pancake for dinner last night. Maybe he’ll be like his Uncle Camden and be a chef. Or like his daddy and build something glorious.” She waves her hand around and then grins at me mischievously. “Or maybe he’ll be an amazing business owner and activity coordinator like his Uncle Dylan…he could even decorate houses like his Aunt Goldie. We just don’t know.”

I take the bait and smirk. “I guess you don’t want him to be a professional hockey player like Uncle Tully?” I point my thumb at myself.

She pats my hand. “I just worry about you, doncha know. It’s a wonder you still have that pretty face and all your teeth, with all those fists that sometimes go flying.”

I rub my chin and grin. “You think this mug is pretty, huh?”

She laughs again. “You know I do. All my grandbabies are pretty.”

A leaf lands in her hair. I reach over and pull it out. She picks up her knitting and winks.

“Thank you.” She glances at me. “We still not talking about you, honey?”

I sigh. “I’ve never talked a lot about certain things.”

“You mean about the ladies in your life?”

I laugh. “That makes me sound like there are tons of ladies.” I make a face. “I guess there are quite a few ladies.”

“Things are done differently these days. I’m told that as long as all parties are on board with that, it shouldn’t be a problem. And I’ve seen firsthand how they throw themselves at you. It’d be hard to resist!”

I turn to face her, and she giggles at the look on my face. “Look at you, so progressive. I resist plenty.” I lean in. “Do you have anything you’d like to tell me about your love life?”

“What?” She places her hand on her heart and starts laughing. “Me? Why would you say such a thing? There is no love life for me.”

“That’s not what I saw the last time I was here. Every time I turned around, Hector Fair was trying his best to woo you.”

She covers her mouth and then laughs so hard she has to hold my arm. I steady her, laughing along with her.

“Nonsense,” she finally says.

“Mm-hmm.”

She clears her throat and gives me a shy look out of the corner of her eye.

“Back to you. Are you going to be okay?”

The wind picks up, cool against my face. The heaviness is still there, sitting behind my ribs, but it’s not as crushing. Not right this second.

“I always bounce back, right?”

She pats my knee. “Yes, you do. But I’d rather you not have anything to bounce back from…I guess a grandma can dream.”

She smiles sweetly, and I squeeze her hand.

“If only that were possible, Grandma Donna.”

“Oh my God!” I hear someone say behind me.

I turn to see the culprit standing ten feet away. Lola.

Patrick has his arm around her, and he looks at me smugly, while she looks like she’s seen a ghost.

Fuck. I guess hiding out won’t be possible.

With Lola in Windy Harbor, the town just got a helluva lot smaller, and I’m not sure I can handle it.

She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved.