My gaze drops to Summer, and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Maybe she isn’t used to family drama. Maybe her own family is comprised of perfectly normal people who don’t constantly argue and meddle in one another’s lives. I have no idea what that would be like.

Seeming to sense her discomfort, Mom gives me another stern look before putting a comforting hand on Summer’s shoulder. “We’re going to get you set up in the cabin. Don’t ever let it be said that the Tates aren’t hospitable.”

“Thank you. That’s very generous of you,” Summer says, her gaze shooting to me to read my reaction. Which is less than enthusiastic.

“Dinner will be at six, honey,” Mom adds.

Summer shakes her head. “Oh, thank you, but you don’t have to . . .”

“Oh yes I do. In case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t any restaurants or take-out places nearby. And the cabin’s kitchenette is basically just a kettle and a hot plate.”

Summer fidgets nervously before rising to her feet. “Okay then. If you insist.”

“I do. And it’ll give me the chance to grill you about where you got that adorable scarf.”

Summer smiles. And then everyone is silent.

Why is this so awkward? Why did she come here?

“Ahem.” Mom stands there glaring at me.

“I’ll show you the cabin,” I mutter begrudgingly.

Mom’s grimace turns into a smile. Nothing makes her happier than good manners.

I shove one hand in my pocket and look over to Summer. “Ready?”

“Sure,” she says with a nod. “After you.”

In the foyer, I shoulder her bag. She must not have packed very much, which bodes well for me, because hopefully that means she won’t be here for long.

We start along the path toward the back of the property where two cabins sit at the river’s edge. Our boots crunch on the fallen pine needles on the walking path. It’s already gotten cold this fall, and there’s an early snow in the forecast later this week.

“Those the only shoes you have?” I ask, noticing the high heels on her boots.

“Yeah.”

I shake my head. “And your only coat?”

“What?” she says, blinking at me with an annoyed look. “How could I know you’d live on the side of a mountain in the middle of a dang forest?”

I smirk. Her choice in footwear told me that much. “Fair point.”

I guess it was pretty ballsy of her following me out here.

“So . . . you’re from Colorado originally?” she asks, her voice pleasant and hopeful.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” I say, ignoring her question.

Summer’s steps falter, but only for a second. “Do you always say exactly what you’re thinking?”

My gaze jumps to hers briefly. “Nope. Never, actually.”