Page 54 of Inexplicable

“Insane,” he confirmed. “This small town swells like crazy in the summer, but it’s fun. There are a lot more activities when the tourists are around. But I enjoy it when they leave, too, and the weather is still warm.”

I followed Brock as he led the way out to the garage.

He went to the passenger side and opened the door of his black Range Rover.

“Nice ride,” I said as I slid into the leather seat.

We were in town eating our ice cream a short ride later.

“You’re right,” I said after I took my first lick of the soft serve ice cream cone. “This is ridiculously good.”

Even my small cone was big, and Brock’s large one was piled high.

He bit the entire top off and swallowed before he grinned. “I told you it was worth the calories.”

I took a seat across from him at one of the picnic tables that were outside on the lawn.

It was a beautiful day, and I was happy to be outdoors after spending the day inside.

We had a great view of the lake, and our location in the middle of town allowed me to people-watch as everyone went about their daily business.

Cherry Cove was very walkable.

A lot of the local businesses were on the main street that ran through town, but I knew there was a more touristy boardwalk closer to the water.

This street, this area was where the locals lived and did their business on a daily basis.

The boardwalk was more for the tourists.

I could honestly say that I hadn’t met one rude person yet in Cherry Cove.

Everyone was friendly, from the people at the grocery store to the owners of the Front Porch.

“Where is the Beachfront Café?” I asked Brock, curious because I’d never been by Gage’s restaurant.

He nodded his head toward the lake. “Down a side street closer to the water,” he answered. “We’ll go there soon. The food is pretty phenomenal.”

“Does Gage cook?” I questioned.

“Hell no,” Brock said with humor in his tone. “He supervises. His family has owned that restaurant for decades. He inherited it when his aunt died right before he left the military. He’s made a lot of changes, but he can’t cook worth a damn. He employs culinary staff and he hired someone to manage the place. He’s not an absentee boss by any means, but he doesn’t tell the kitchen how to do their jobs.”

I’d started to devour my ice cream with enthusiasm since I didn’t want it to melt all over my fingers. “I’m familiar with Nate’s artwork,” I said. “But I’m not sure what Seth does for a living.”

Nate was a very accomplished surreal landscape artist.

I’d actually seen some of his pieces in California.

“Seth is a boat captain. He owns his own boat,” he explained. “He does a lot of charters and he fishes commercially sometimes when the season is hot. He’s a really dedicated captain. He’s crazy busy during the season.”

“You’re all so successful,” I said, marveling at how much Brock and his team had accomplished since they’d gotten out of the army.

He shrugged. “I guess we were all used to working hard. We’d probably be bored if we weren’t pushing hard at our civilian careers, too.”

“What about Last Hope?” I asked before I bit into my cone and swallowed. “That must take up a lot of your time.”

“It depends,” he said lazily. “Sometimes we don’t get a mission for months, and then we can get more than one in a single month. We’re grounded right now because of my injury. I think Marshall is pissed because I got shot. We have other teams who can take our place if necessary.”

“It wasn’t your fault that you got shot,” I defended.