Her Summer Crush

“But what about the one where he’s standing and gazing at the bogs. It’s a good one, too, even if he has a poker face.”

She had to smile. “He did, didn’t he? Hmm.” She skimmed the article. “I don’t see a spot for it, though.”

“How about here?” He pointed to a line on the screen.

“No, no, doesn’t fit.”

They went back and forth for a while without reaching an agreement. Finally, Cody threw up his hands. “I think we’re done here. But give my suggestions some more thought, okay?”

“Sure.” Maybe.

Luci turned off the computer. She picked up their coffee mugs and carried them to the sink. He followed with the plate of leftover doughnuts.

“Thanks for coming—and for your help.” She took the plate and placed it beside the mugs.

“You’re welcome, but we’re not done yet.”

“I thought you just said we were?”

“Nope. One more thing.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

Luci stared for a moment and then, with an inward sigh, held out her hand and let their fingers mesh. He led her to the sofa, and while she sat he picked up the box he’d brought and held it out.

“What this?”

“Something I made for you. Go on, open it.”

She pulled off the lid. Inside lay a book. “Luci’s Homecoming” was printed on the cover, and below that a photo of her smiling face.

“From my party. Oh, Cody...”

He sat next to her, and they paged through the album, looking at all the photos he’d taken that night. “There’s Don mugging for the camera,” she said. “And there’s Dad with his arm around Mom.”

“They sure look happy. Married how long?”

“Thirty-three years next March.”

He’d managed to capture the children in cute poses, and all the other guests, too. There were even photos of the ocean view and the sunset.

When they finished looking at the pictures, Luci closed the cover and turned to Cody. “Thank you. What a wonderful gift.”

“You’re welcome. I made books for your parents, and for Don and Francine, too.”

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate them as much as I do. And I’m sorry I was such a brat about your taking my picture that night.”

He made a dismissive wave. “No problem. I know you weren’t expecting me to show up for your homecoming.”

She laughed. “You were a surprise, all right.”

They turned toward each other, and their eyes met. Warmth flooded her face and her heart thudded. Swallowing hard, she tore her gaze away.

Cody cleared his throat. “Say, what time is it?” He checked his wristwatch. “Nine, already? Gotta be on my way. Early get up tomorrow. Fishing trip with your brother and Max.”

In no time at all, he was at the door. His hand on the knob, he turned and said, “Glad the article’s done. You did good, kid.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder, and then he was gone.

After he left, Luci dropped onto the sofa and put her head in her hands. The evening had worn her out. Okay, they’d managed to put together the article, but it hadn’t been easy. He thought that he knew best just because he had more experience. But she was the boss here, wasn’t she?

* * *

CODY GRIPPED HIS fishing rod while the Half Time bucked another wave and water sloshed onto the deck. Good thing he’d brought his waterproof camera. Don was sitting next to him, also keeping a tight hold on his fishing rod.

On the other side of the boat were Max Billings and the new guy, Ben Shapiro. The Half Time’s owner and captain, Ole Swenson, rounded out their party.

Don suddenly leaned back as his rod arced and the line went taut. “I got one!”

Max looked over his shoulder. “Keep your line tight,” he said.

“Must be a big one,” Ben put in.

Standing at the helm, Ole grinned and gave a thumbs-up. He idled the engine, which sent the boat plunging into the waves and water splashing onto the deck. Cody anchored his reel and grabbed his camera. This was a photo op not to be missed.

Don’s face turned red and his breath huffed. Max yelled orders. Ben looked on as though awed by the whole thing.

“There he is!” Max pointed.

Sure enough, a king salmon burst into view, its silver scales catching the sun’s rays. Then the fish plunged back into the water. Don reeled more line. The boat rocked and rolled.

“Here he comes!” Don yelled.

The fish broke the waves again and for a moment, tail swinging, hung suspended in the air. Cody caught that moment and several more. Then it was all over, and Don’s prize catch lay on the deck.

Not for long, though. Ole packed the fish in ice while the others talked about what a great catch it was, and Cody reviewed his shots. Don may have caught the king salmon, but for Cody, his pictures were much more valuable than any fish. The shot of the salmon in midair was exactly what he’d hoped for. He could already see the photo blown up and hanging on a wall or featured on a magazine cover.

Before the trip was over, they’d each landed a salmon, although none were as big as Don’s. Back in the marina, they posed for photos with their prizes and got a ritual picture to take home and show to friends, along with a story that would be embellished each time it was told.

After making arrangements to pick up their fish later, they celebrated at the marina’s tavern. The group sat on the deck, watching the other charters drift in like hunters coming home.

The marina was close to Smuggler’s Cove, where bootleggers had hidden their stashes during Prohibition. Willow Beach was full of interesting history, but, with the entire world calling, Cody had never taken the time to pursue it. Maybe someday.

During a lull in the conversation, Cody turned his attention to the newcomer. “So, Ben, you’re from Seattle?”

Ben sipped his beer and set down the glass. “Right. Thought I might like living on the coast.”

“And you’re an accountant.”

“Yep, a numbers cruncher. I opened an office in the Stafford Building. Already have a fair number of clients.”

“Including us,” Max said. “That’s how me ’n’ Ben got acquainted.” Max was a partner in Fuller’s Foods, Willow Beach’s main grocery and variety store.