led Emily across the hot, gummy parking lot.
They walked down to the boardwalk, and from there to the beach. Because of the crowds, they had to walk in single file. Julia kept looking back to see if Emily was keeping up. Emily smiled the entire way, stopping to take off her shoes, then running to catch up.
They finally stopped at a place halfway between the boardwalk and the cove. There were houses above the beach on this end of the lake, large houses with glass walls overlooking the glittery blue water. As Julia took two towels out of her bag and spread them on the sand, Emily shaded her eyes from the glare of sun and looked around. “Were you meeting Sawyer here?”
“No. Why?” Julia asked as she shimmied out of her white shorts, revealing the bottom half of her red bikini. She left her gauzy long-sleeved shirt on over her red bikini top, though.
“Because he’s coming this way.”
Julia immediately turned to see him walking down the beach toward them. Sawyer stood out too much to blend in anywhere, but the closest he came was here, with the sun and the sand. He was golden. A sun king.
“He’s nice,” Emily said wistfully. “The moment I saw him, I knew he’d have an accent like that. I don’t know why.”
“Some men you know are Southern before they ever say a word,” Julia said as she and Emily watched Sawyer’s progress, helpless, almost as if they couldn’t look away. “They remind you of something good—picnics or carrying sparklers around at night. Southern men will hold doors open for you, they’ll hold you after you yell at them, and they’ll hold on to their pride no matter what. Be careful what they tell you, though. They have a way of making you believe anything, because they say it that way.”
“What way?” Emily asked as she turned to her, intrigued.
“I hope you never find out,” she said.
“You’ve been spoken to that way?”
“Yes,” she said softly, just as Sawyer stopped at their towels.
“Hello, ladies.”
“Hi, Sawyer,” Emily said as she sat down.
Julia sat on the towel next to her and stuffed her shorts into her beach bag. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Julia,” he said. “Bear hunting?”
She squinted up at him. “Is that a euphemism for something?”
He ignored that and sat on her towel at her feet. She could see her reflection in his sunglasses as he stared at her. What was he doing? Why was he being so familiar? The eighteen years of silence while she was gone, along with the year and a half of cold shoulder she’d given him since she’d been back, should have been more than enough to discourage him from sitting on her towel on the beach, inches away from her bare legs.
Yet here he was.
And all because she’d told Stella that she made cakes because of him.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“My sister is in town for the weekend,” he said. “She and her daughter are staying at the family’s lake house. I came to see them.”
“So this has nothing to do with my telling you I was taking Emily out here today?” she asked skeptically.
“Now, that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?”
“Everything is easy for you, Sawyer.”
“Not everything.” Before she had a chance to respond, he nudged his chin in the direction behind her. “There’s my niece. Ingrid!” he called.
Julia and Emily turned to see a pretty redheaded teenager change course and walk over to them. Julia seemed to remember Sawyer’s older sister having red hair.
“This is Julia Winterson,” he said to his niece.
Ingrid smiled. “I recognize the pink streak in your hair. I see you sometimes in town when my mom and I visit,” she said. “I love it, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Julia said. “This is Emily. She just moved here.”
“Some kids over in the cove are having a cookout party and they asked me if I wanted to come. I’m going to ask my mom. Do you want to come, Emily?” Ingrid asked.
Emily looked at her blankly. “What is it for?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it a club?”
“It’s a party,” Ingrid said, giving Emily a questioning look as she turned to leave. “I’ll be right back.”
Emily still looked confused.
“You’re making this out to be harder than it really is,” Julia said, laughing as she patted Emily’s hand. “All you have to say is ‘I’d love to come!’”
“Like this,” Sawyer said. “Julia, would you like to go out with me Monday night?”
“I’d love to!” she playacted. “See? Easy.