She then tells Coop her basic story: She’s forty-eight years old and has two kids, a son who’s a sophomore at UMass and a daughter who will be a senior at the high school, in the same class as Caleb and Lucas. She lives on the island year-round in a rental that she fears the owners will someday sell out from under her, but she doesn’t make enough on her teacher’s salary to buy her own home. “I always wondered how Mallory did it,” she says. “She was a single mom too, right?”

“She was,” Coop says. “She inherited the cottage from our aunt when we were in our twenties. It’s on the beach but it’s simple and pretty small. When my parents died, she had the money to finally renovate.”

“Well, sadly, I don’t have a rich aunt to leave me a beachfront cottage,” Brooke says. She goes on to tell Coop that all of her family is in New Hampshire, which was where she lived before she got divorced from the children’s father and decided she needed a change. She sighs. “So, what do you like to read?”

Coop scrambles for one of the titles on Mallory’s bookshelves, but he draws a blank. He was always the kid in English who skimmed the CliffsNotes five minutes before class. “I don’t read for pleasure because I do so much policy analysis at work.” This answer is lame and to distract Brooke, he reaches for her hand. It works—maybe too well. Brooke pulls him into the water. He manages to shuck off his shirt but she goes in with her cover-up still on, which strikes him as a bit odd. Brooke paddles out then turns to splash him right in the face and when he sputters, she says, “Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” and while Coop is thinking, Baby?—he hardly knows this woman, he wasn’t even sure it was her when they pulled onto the beach, and he never would have recognized her on the street—she swims into his arms and starts kissing him.

Whoa, he thinks. That was fast.

“We should probably get back,” he says.

She splashes him again, right in the face. “You’re no fun.”

As they’re walking back, she says, “So how do I convince you to move into your sister’s cottage and stay on Nantucket year-round?”

Coop laughs, even though he is now officially uncomfortable. “Hopefully in a few years when I retire, I’ll be able to spend more time here.”

“A few years?” Brooke says. “I’ll be off the market by then.”

At a loss for how to respond, Coop quickens his pace. He’s relieved when they get back to the party and Jake says, “Leland called, we have to go.”

“Did something happen?” Coop asks.

“She didn’t say. She just told me we were needed at home.”