Matt shakes his head. “Nah, man. I’m the one who has a request for you.”

I frown. “What are you talking about?”

He and Austen exchange a knowing look, both of them smirking like a couple of idiots. “I’d like to request that you make sure Summer doesn’t set foot outside of Lost Haven.”

As if on cue, Summer’s laughter bubbles up from the other side of the barn. It’s sweet and vibrant, like a sip of that shandy, and just as intoxicating.

“Why?”

Matt’s eyebrows jump up and down his forehead suggestively. “I think you know why.”

“Dude. Stop trying to hook up with my counselor. It’s not funny.” I wince at the memory of those comments he made about her on our hunting trip.

“Not what I meant,” he grunts. “Quit acting like you’re not insanely into her. Anyone in a two-hundred-mile radius could see that you are.”

I turn toward Austen, who is nodding along with every word Matt says. My stomach twists in my gut. I guess I haven’t built my walls as high as I thought.

“So what if I am?” I grumble.

“So, don’t let her get on a plane.” Matt levels me with a stern look. “Listen, man. This is the chillest I’ve ever seen you. But it’s not just you. When’s the last time you saw Graham this happy? Not to mention the way Mom and Grandpa are completely smitten.” He looks to Austen, who shrugs, not denying this. “Just saying. I think this girl has some magical healing powers or something.”

“Or maybe Mom has been slipping us all CBD again,” I say. The comment earns me a laugh, but it’s not enough for Matt to drop the subject.

“I’m just saying. Summer is amazing. I think you should hang on to her.”

“Hang on to her? She’s my counselor, dude. My shrink. Not my girlfriend.”

“Yeah?” He turns his head toward the bar.

I follow his gaze to Summer, who is sipping beer and staring at me, all flirty and doe-eyed. When I catch her gaze, she smiles a little, then blinks away, pretending to be distracted.

“Is that how most shrinks look at their clients?” Austen points out. “I think not.”

They drop the conversation when Summer comes sauntering our way with good news.

“Guess what? Graham is going to name a beer after me!”

“Is that so?” I lift a brow at my brother.

“The Summer Shandy,” Graham says with a crooked smile. “Kind of clever, huh?”

“Well, shit,” Matt says, ducking out from beneath his guitar strap. “I gotta try this Summer Shandy stat.”