“Nope. If I drink any more raspberry-themed beverages, I will float off to sea. It’ll be like James and the Giant Peach, except with a raspberry.”

“So I guess you don’t want one of Pearl’s famous raspberry ricotta hand pies?” Clara dangled a perfectly golden pastry in front of Evie, then snatched it away.

“Hang on now, I think I’m getting a second wind.” She grabbed the pie, took a big bite, and started pulling one arm out of her shirt. “Are we swimming?” She transferred the pie to her other hand and extracted her other arm from her shirt. “I wore my bathing suit.”

It was a black one-piece, not the Little Mermaid bikini. Which was disappointing. But he couldn’t stay anyway. “I go on duty in less than an hour, so I can’t.”

Which was also disappointing. But, he consoled himself, in the month or so since the lake had been warm enough to swim in, he’d gotten to see lots of Evie in all her bathing suits.

And out of them.

He was really enjoying the whole friends-with-benefits thing they had going. Mostly.

“I’ll swim with you,” Clara said. “I’m going to miss the lake so much.”

Evie glanced at him. Probably to check on his well-being. She knew he was freaking out as the time ticked down to Clara’s departure. But maybe that wasn’t what she was thinking of, because she said, “I’m going to miss the lake, too.”

“Are you kidding me?” came an indignant shout from over by the sandcastles. Sawyer was glad for the distraction. The less he had to think about departing women, the better.

It was Maya. She was working on an elaborate sandcastle. Or she had been. She was currently standing over Law’s plot, where he was working on one of his own, and pointing at some shiny blue things he was using to edge a turret.

“That is sea glass,” he said.

“That is not sea glass. That is some kind of polished rock you brought in, and you know that’s not allowed. Natural materials found on the beach only.”

“Nowhere in the rules does it say the materials you use must be found on the beach the same day. I collected this glass all year.”

Maya gasped as if he’d announced he had decided to close the bar and become a professional puppy murderer. She waved Karl, who was one of the contest’s judges, over.

“I think that’s your cue to leave,” Evie said, grabbing the pie back from him. “Unless you want to get stuck in the middle of that. Go enjoy your last few minutes of being off duty.”

“Agreed.” Clara got up. “Let’s hit the lake, Eve.”