Her Summer Crush. Linda Hope Lee
frowned. “Not okay to take your picture? You’re the guest of honor. Besides, you’re a good subject.”
“You didn’t give me any warning. I probably need to comb my hair or something.”
“Your hair is fine. The sunlight caught it just right.” He tilted his head. “It’s been—what?—a year since we’ve seen each other?”
“Yes, about that.”
“Your last year at the U go okay?”
“It did.”
She looked toward the water again—where the lowering sun spread rays of red, yellow and orange along the horizon—and wanted more than ever to take that walk on the beach. But the talk and laughter drifting across the lawn reminded her that the party offered an escape, too.
“I’d better get back to my guests,” she said. “But thanks for coming, Cody, and good luck with your next assignment.”
He laid a hand on her arm. “Don’t say goodbye yet. I’ll be around for a while. In a town as small as Willow Beach, we’re bound to run into each other.”
Just then, Don came toward them, waving his hand. “There you are, Cody. Been looking for you. Glen Thomas wants a word.”
Cody raised his eyebrows. “The chamber of commerce president wants to talk to me? Why?”
Don shrugged. “Don’t know. He didn’t say.”
“Okay,” Cody said. “See you later, Luci.”
“Sure. See you...later.”
Luci hugged herself as she watched Cody and Don head back to the party. She’d thought she was telling the truth when she said she was over Cody. But the moment she laid eyes on him tonight, all her old feelings came rushing back.
Why did he have to return to Willow Beach, even for a short while, just when she was settling in again with her family and her new job?
* * *
CODY HEATED A mug of leftover coffee in the microwave and carried it to the table where his computer sat. His apartment—the detached garage on his mother’s property—was the perfect quiet spot for reviewing photos. The living, dining and kitchen areas were one big room. His bedroom had an en suite bathroom, and he’d turned the second bedroom into a darkroom.
Cody sat at the table, put down his mug and clicked the mouse. A new picture flashed onto the screen. Another shot of Luci. He chuckled. He’d taken more pictures of her tonight than of anyone else.
She made a good subject. Her red hair always caught the light in unusual ways, sometimes reflecting blond highlights, other times a rich mahogany. Her hazel eyes were wide set and expressive, her nose straight and regal, and her mouth, with its full lower lip, was perfect.
He played with the photo, trying different filters to see their effects. At the same time, his thoughts lingered on the party. Luci’s behavior puzzled him. Judging by her enthusiastic hug, she was glad to see him; but later, when he photographed her standing at the edge of the yard, she’d acted annoyed. Was her mood change related to the crush she’d had on him years ago? He thought she was over that.
He hadn’t paid much attention to Luci when he and Don were in high school; she was just Don’s kid sister. After graduation, Cody attended the University of Washington but dropped out after two years to work as a photographer for the Willow Beach Herald. A few years later, when Luci was a high school senior, she’d interned at the newspaper. Apparently, or so he’d been told by various people, that was when she’d developed her crush on him. He’d never encouraged her, not because he didn’t like her, but because of the age difference. She was eighteen to his twenty-four.
After she graduated and he decided to finish his college education, they both ended up at the U. They got together a few times, nothing serious, just friends. On his part, anyway. Although the age difference wasn’t as important anymore, by that time he’d wanted to travel the world as a freelance photographer.
He’d also decided on no romantic attachments. Asking a wife or a significant other to wait for him at home wouldn’t be fair. Maybe someday he’d change his mind and want more. For now, he traveled solamente.
He’d expected Luci to move on, but he hadn’t heard about a new guy in her life; nor had he seen anyone in particular hanging out with her tonight.
A knock sounded on his door. When he went to open it, his mother stood there, her arms full of towels and sheets.
“Sorry to interrupt your work,” she said, “but I thought you could use some clean linens.”
“You’re not interrupting. I’m almost finished for the night. Come on in.” He opened the door wider, and Olive swept in. “You don’t have to do my laundry, you know.” He closed the door behind her. “I’m a big boy now.”
“I know, but I don’t have that much laundry myself, so I might as well throw in yours.” She looked around. “Where shall I put this?”
Cody pushed aside a bin full of photographs sitting on one of the tables. “Right here. I’ll put them away later.”
Olive set down the linens and then propped her hands on her hips and surveyed the room. “If you put any more equipment in here, you won’t have space to turn around.”
He looked around, trying to see the place as she saw it. Okay, the room was crowded. Several tables held computers, printers and scanners; tripods were propped in corners, and cameras, cases and other miscellaneous items filled the shelves. Enlargements of his photos decorated the walls.
“I like my place,” he said. “It’s cozy and has everything I need.”
“Maybe so, but do you think you’ll ever find a woman who’ll put up with all this?” Olive went to the sofa and plumped up the loose cushions.
“Not a question that needs to be answered, because I’m not looking. Not right now, anyway.”
“What about that woman who was on your last assignment? The one you talked about in your emails?”
“Shar, from Omaha?” He smiled as the image of Sharlene Williams, with her blond hair and ready smile, popped into his mind. “Yeah, she’s nice, but we’re just friends.”
Olive straightened and frowned at Cody. “Omaha is too far away, anyway. I always hoped you’d find someone closer to home.”
Cody grinned at her wistful expression. “No woman would put up with my being gone most of the time. I’m—what do you old folks call it—a rolling stone.”
Olive sighed. “Your dad really started something when he gave you that camera, didn’t he?”
Cody chuckled and walked over to one of the shelves. “This one?” He picked up a child’s red-and-yellow plastic camera. “Yeah, he did. And I was only, what, six?”
“Uh-huh. Right before he died.” Olive’s eyes misted. “And you’d go all over taking pictures, you with your little camera and he with his big one.”
“Yep. And young as I was, I remember him telling me that when I got old enough, we’d travel the world and take lots and lots of pictures. ‘Capturing the moment,’ he called it, although I didn’t understand what that meant.” Cody’s throat tightened. “We never got to do that.”
“No, you didn’t, and I’m so sorry. If only he could’ve beaten the cancer.” She bit her lip and looked away.
Cody walked over to his mother and put his arm around her. “That’s why I’m traveling now. I like to think he’s with me on my trips, helping to capture the moments.”
“That’s a wonderful tribute, Cody. But what about passing on your love of photography to your son or daughter—wouldn’t that also be a way to honor him?”
Cody smiled. “Ah, we’re