Race Point Beach was almost as crowded at eight at night as it was in the middle of the afternoon. Elodie and Tito had staked out their prime spot an hour earlier, setting down their folding beach chairs and the picnic basket they’d assembled together in Lidia’s kitchen. Elodie, who had spent her life dining in the finest Manhattan restaurants—Daniel, Union Square Café, Danube, Le Bernadin—had perhaps never enjoyed a meal so much as the chicken salad sandwiches and potato chips she ate that evening.

The sky was already a kaleidoscope of color: blues, purples, pinks, and oranges. It made her feel whimsical and girlish. It reminded her of the multi-flavored swirled sorbet her mother used to serve when she was a child.

Elodie swallowed hard. She looked into his deep dark eyes—so brown they were nearly black—and felt unmoored in a way that was unsettling and thrilling. A day ago, she would have told someone—if she had anyone to confide in—that her feelings for Tito reminded her of the way she’d felt about the one man she’d ever loved: giddy, unfocused, thrilled but also insecure. No one since Liam Maybrook had inspired such intensity. And yet, this was different. Being around Tito also made her feel enveloped in calm.

She didn’t know what to do with these feelings. When she was younger, attraction led to sex and sex led to relationships and relationships were supposed to lead to marriage someday. But that hadn’t worked out for her.

Besides, she wasn’t sure how Tito felt. They were dog-walking buddies. Sure, a picnic dinner at Race Point at sunset had romantic overtones. Yes, he’d held her hand at the fireworks on the Fourth. But she still felt uncertain.

The sun inched lower on the horizon. People stood, phones held high, snapping photos. Elodie and Tito walked to the edge of the ocean. They stood, shoulders touching, watching the light change with every passing second. When the sun dipped out of view, everyone broke into applause.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Tito said.

“Oh, even that would be overpriced, I’m afraid,” she said.

“Are you worried about finding housing?”

She looked at him in surprise. Lidia must have mentioned her inquiry and the fact that she was losing her room at the house.

“No,” she said quickly. “I’ll find something.”

“Now I’m kicking myself for renting out my house all summer,” he said. “You could have stayed with me.” Stay with him? Definitely romantic.

She smiled. “I would never impose. But thank you.”

“It would be fun.”

Fun? Friendship.

“I’m going to speak to the Realtor tomorrow,” she said.

“Why don’t you talk to your sister? She has space above the store. Unless there’s someone else staying there aside from your niece.”

“Oh—no. My sister and I don’t have that kind of relationship. We’re not like your family.”