wrinkled her nose in the captivating way he remembered and shook her head. “Not a cop. A private investigator.”
Nolan raised his eyebrows and chuckled his surprise. “You’re a PI?”
Her smile dimmed, and she narrowed a glare on him. “Why is that funny to you?”
“It’s just—”
“A woman can be a PI same as any man!” She straightened her back, making the most of her five-foot-nothing stature as she squared off with him.
He raised both palms toward her. “Whoa! No offense intended. I just never would have pictured you becoming a PI is all.”
Her hackles eased, and she gave him a lopsided grin. “Oh, yeah? And what did you see me becoming?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe joining the Army like your dad? Or working on the Colton Ranch wrangling cows alongside Jonah and Dallas?”
She twisted her mouth as if thinking. “Not the Army. Too transient. I had my fill of moving all over the place with my dad.” Then focusing her attention on him again, she rushed forward for another hug. “I can’t believe it’s you! You’re really here! It’s been way too long.”
He hugged her back, more awkwardly aware of the feminine curves snuggled against him. It’s Summer, for God’s sake! You’re not allowed to notice her figure!
Leaning back to peer up at him, she asked, “What about you? What brings you here?”
He hitched a thumb toward the office buildings. “I’m meeting Bellamy. Donovan’s wife?”
She nodded. “I’ve met her. She’s great.”
“Apparently her coworkers threw a baby shower today, and she needs help lugging some big items out to her car.”
Her smile twitched playfully. “That’s very kind of you to help her out, but… I meant what are you doing in Whisperwood?” Her expression changed instantly to excited hopefulness. “Did you move back here? Oh, Nolan! Say you did!”
He scratched his chin as he flashed a moue of regret. “Afraid not, Tadpole.”
“Tadpole.” She sighed happily. “It’s been a while since anyone called me that.” She cocked her head to the side. “So what did bring you to town after all these years?”
Whether she intended the scolding tone or not, he heard a mild reprimand in her question that chewed guiltily at his gut—followed immediately by the acid bite of anger and apprehension left by his suspension. “I’m taking some time off to…rest. Get some perspective on some things.”
Rather than satisfy Summer, his vague answer seemed to intrigue her. Her gaze intensified, her mouth compressed and her brow wrinkled in consternation. “What the hell does that mean? Get some perspective?”
“It’s a job-related issue.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Were you fired?”
He rolled his shoulders, cleared his throat. “No.” Might as well have been.
Her gaze narrowed further, and he recognized a deep insight in her espresso-brown stare. Summer had always been able to read him well when they were kids.
He drew his shoulders back and glanced away from her knowing gaze. This suspension was a crock, a humiliation. How would he ever be taken seriously by his fellow agents again?
“Nolan?”
He aimed a thumb over his shoulder. “Look, um… Bellamy is waiting for me, so I need to run. But it was great to see you, Summer.” He smiled, meaning it. “I’d love to get together for coffee and a catch-up.” He motioned to the front of his shirt with his empty cup. “You do owe me a cup.”
Summer tucked her golden-blond hair behind her ear, nodding. “That I do, hoss.” She patted her pockets, then frowned. “Dang, I left my business cards at the office.” Flipping a page in her notepad, she scribbled a phone number and ripped the sheet out. “Call me. I want to hear what you’ve been up to, what sort of perspective you need in this mysterious career of yours.”
Folding the sheet, he tucked it in his back pocket. “Count on it.”
He leaned in to give her cheek a peck, catching the tantalizing floral scent of her shampoo as he did. At the last second, he thought better of the platonic show of affection. Once bitten, twice shy and all that crap. He angled his face away so that they merely brushed cheeks. He took a long step back and rubbed his free hand on the leg of his jeans. Damn it, was this what he’d come to? Second-guessing every friendly gesture around a woman, afraid of his actions being misconstrued?
He continued walking backward, somehow reluctant to let Summer out of his sight. For so many years, she’d been the yin to his yang. Her energy and sunny disposition able to lift him from even the darkest mood. In light of his current circumstances, he could use a strong dose of Summer’s friendship and positivity in his life. Running into her today felt like more than good luck. He didn’t believe in fate or karma, but seeing Summer gave him a familiar sense of well-being and comfort, like the innocence of their younger days.
He lifted a hand, waving as he reluctantly turned to walk away. If he had the chance to reconnect with Summer while he was on leave, maybe his suspension wouldn’t totally suck. He grinned to himself as he strode across the parking lot. See, Summer was already rubbing off on him. He’d found a silver lining in the disaster that was his life.
So she’d been right about seeing Nolan from her office window. A giddy revelry danced inside Summer, leaving her breathless and beaming. After several years of radio silence from her childhood friend, seeing him again was a bonus she hadn’t expected when she’d moved back to Whisperwood. She pressed a hand over her scampering heartbeat and prayed he’d use her phone number to set up a date. Well, not a date date. That wasn’t the kind of relationship they had. But she wanted a long sit-down, catch-up, revive-their-friendship meeting, coffee or not. Because, damn it, she’d missed Nolan.
When she’d asked her best girlfriend, Avery Logan—who was now engaged to Nolan’s cousin Dallas—what the Coltons had heard from Nolan, she’d been told he hadn’t been in touch with his cousins, either. His life for the past several years had been a mystery to her and his cousins. Why? What had led him to lose touch with the family and friends he’d once been so close to?
Summer watched Nolan walk away and couldn’t help admiring his broad shoulders and lean hips, the confident swagger in his stride, and the shimmer of golden autumn sun on his light brown hair. She raised a hand to her face, still feeling the light scrape of his five o’clock scruff on her cheek. In that moment, she’d been sure he was going to kiss her, and when he hadn’t, disappointment plucked at her. Not because she expected a kiss—they were just friends, after all—but because she’d detected a reticence on his part. He’d held back. Withdrawn.
As kids they’d had such an easy rapport. Even the last time she’d Skyped with him as a teenager, before her family had moved to Colorado and she’d lost touch with him, the comfortable camaraderie had been second nature. So what had changed?
Well,
