One Hot Summer Read Online Free Page A

or two.” He set his hand on his chest over his heart. “I insist.”
    Well, Remedy. You wanted to learn how to fit in with the natives, and this is your chance . She didn’t have anything waiting for her back at the cottage other than leftover macaroni and cheese she’d ferreted from the resort’s kitchen the night before and a defunct air-conditioning unit. Peace and quiet be damned. The day was young and so was she.
    She left them hanging for a long breath, then, “Okay, you win. A beer.” She poked him in the chest. “But only because you owe me.”
    He held his hand out again. “Name’s Chet Bowman.”
    She eyeballed his hand suspiciously. “You’re not going to pull me underwater, right?”
    â€œWouldn’t dream of it.”
    â€œI’ll kick his ass if he does,” Shaggy Blond said with earnest gusto.
    Remedy shook Chet’s hand. “Remedy Lane.” She braced on the off-chance he recognized it. There weren’t that many Remedys in the world and even fewer whose birth announcements had made it into the pages of People magazine. But all Chet did was beam, deepening those to-die-for dimples. “That’s a right pretty name.”
    Shaggy Blond took her hand next. “Dusty Wilmington.”
    â€œNice to meet you both. Let me grab my shoes and we’ll get on with that beer you owe me.”
    Around the bend and down a ways from Remedy’s rock, the creek curved near the road. Along the shoulder sat a row of trucks and cars, including the hulking black truck she’d seen from her back deck. The black truck’s tailgate was down; sitting on top were a case of beer, a melting bag of ice, and two watermelons. Chet poured the ice in the cooler, then stacked beers on top. Dusty hoisted a watermelon onto his shoulder, then made a gallant attempt to lift the second. Remedy waved him off, then slid the watermelon off the tailgate and into her arms.
    Loaded down with the party goods, they slogged along a trail that followed the creek farther than Remedy had explored on her own. She was about to ask them how much farther they had to go when the scent of charcoal briquettes wafted through the air. They emerged from the trail onto a wide, sandy bank at the elbow junction of the creek and an expansive, slow-moving river.
    Remedy froze, taking it all in. On the river, at least a dozen people floated in inner tubes of every size and color. Shade covers, beach chairs, and barbecues dotted the sand on both sides of the riverbank, and a rolling beat of a country song drifted through the air from speakers sitting on a folding table.
    Dusty nudged her with his watermelon. “Welcome to summer in hill country, Bubba-style.”
    For the past two weeks, Remedy had been so busy moving in, ingratiating herself to Emily the chef, and chasing down runaway elephants that she’d barely taken a breath. This might not be a Southern California beach or the peace and quiet she craved, but it looked like all kinds of fun. She smiled at her two hosts. Bubba-style fun indeed. She could already see herself dragging one of those chairs to the water’s edge and decompressing from her tough workweek with a beer in her hand.
    â€œChet, you’re a genius. Thank you for insisting I join you.”
    He touched the brim of his ball cap. “The pleasure’s all mine.” He reached his arms out. “Let me take that watermelon from you.”
    Dusty and other strapping young men scrambled their way, their arms waving. “The police are here! Quick, everybody run for cover!” They jumped behind a wall of bushes. The music turned off and a madcap exit ensued.
    Remedy’s mouth dropped open. She gaped at Chet, hoping for answers, because why would running help if the police were on their way? Where would they go to escape and why would they need to? Were they doing something illegal? Instead of answering her questions, all Chet did