Summer was ringing up a customer at the time, an athletic woman in her thirties who had a younger sister Summer had gone to school with. They were talking about which hiking trails were the best to take this time of year. The morning out there had rejuvenated Summer, and she couldn’t wait to get out again, right in her own backyard.

Funny, but this hadn’t been her own backyard in a very long time, and yet there was something comforting about claiming it again as hers, something unsettlingly promising.

But then Joe stepped inside, with his see-all eyes and watchful ways, with his gun and the baffling new confidence, bringing the heat of the day and the heat from something else entirely, and she lost her ability to concentrate. She couldn’t help it, she just stood there for a moment, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth, every thought escaping right out of her head.

Then he turned his head and unerringly found her in one sweeping glance.

The customer touched her arm, bringing her back. “You really brought the trails to life for me, thanks so much. Is it okay to go up there alone, do you think?”

“If you can read a map.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “I could get lost finding my way out of a paper bag.”

“I could call you next time I go.”

“Really?” She lit up, and searched her purse for a piece of paper to write down her number. “That would be so nice of you!”

Kenny moved into the back rooms. Joe didn’t. Summer couldn’t tear her eyes off him.

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be any trouble?” the customer asked, handing Summer the paper.

“Not at all.”

The customer thanked her again, petted Socks who was sprawled on the counter like a fat, stuffed animal, and left.

Joe stepped close. His gaze searched Summer’s face, his own expression a little tight. “You’re here.”

Had he thought she’d leave because things had gotten tough? Of course he’d think that. Only she was the tough one now and was going to prove it. “You look kinda tired,” she said, and blinked innocently. “Long night?”

“Not too bad.”

“Liar.”

That made his dimple flash, and he laughed, and she had to admit, she loved the sound.

Another customer walked in, the hanging bells over the door tinkering merrily. “That’s me,” she said, but neither of them moved. For Summer, staring up at him, she didn’t know what was happening to her, to them, but it seemed to her as if time stopped.

But Joe didn’t say a word, and with no choice, she dropped her gaze and began to move away.

Then he caught her wrist.