Free Perfect Summer by Katie Graykowski Page A

felt good to impress her.
    “Now that your pan is nice and hot, turn down the temp to medium. Use your protein powder—let's refer to it as PP from now on—scoop to pour the batter into the pan. Heads up, the batter spreads, so try not to use too much.”
    Clint scooped out batter and poured it onto the melted butter. Batter sizzled into a pool and slowly puffed up. It worked. “Look at that. I just made my first pancake.”
    Pride made him glow all over.
    “We're not out of the woods yet. Do you have a spatula?” Over the phone, metal scraped against metal.
    Pulling out a spatula from the utensil drawer, he said, “Ye of little faith. Spatula at the ready.”
    He couldn’t wait. Grabbing the remaining butter so it would be close enough to hack off a pat for the pancake, he stood at the ready, waiting for his first homemade-by-him pancake. “Don’t I need to flip it?”
    “See all those bubbles? When they start to pop, slide your spatula under the pancake and flip it over.”
    Clint started to slide his spatula under the pancake.
    “Not yet,” Summer said. He could practically hear her shaking her head. “Wait until they pop.”
    How did she know? He stared down the pancake, waiting for total poppage.
    “Okay, I think, it’s ready.” With his spatula, he eased up one corner. It was golden-brown. “How do I do this?”
    “Gently slide the spatula under the bottom and flip. It’s all in the wrist.” She sounded confident he could do it.
    His heart thumped in his chest like it was the end of the fourth quarter and the Lone Stars were down by two points. “Gently slide the spatula…” he repeated as his slid, “under the bottom and flip.” The pancake flipped and landed with a splat and a sizzle.
    He jumped back and danced around the island. “I did it.”
    “Good for you. I’m so proud.” Her voice was calming, and there was pride in it.
    It was stupid to be this happy. “Thanks for showing me how to make pancakes.”
    “Thanks for helping Mario,” she countered.
    “Thanks for not calling a press conference when I fell asleep in class.”
    “Thanks for waking up. Dead bodies are harder to get rid of than you might think.” She laughed.
    “Thanks for um…” Did he go with being a nice person, or volunteering at a teen shelter, or having a sense of humor, or having a naughty mouth?
    “Just so you know, I can’t be out-niced. You should give up now. I’ve been perfecting my nice for thirty years. You can’t win.”
    “I always win. At least at the things that matter.” Clint had a feeling that she could matter…. She could matter a lot. “But I’m new to the nice. Care to show me the ropes?”
    “I don’t believe that. You have a good heart.”
    “No, I’m…” He was about to admit he was using her to further his career, but the thought of her seeing him in a negative light gave him a twinge of unease.
    “Clint, you’re a good person, whether you believe it or not. Deal with it.” Summer sounded so sure.
    Right now, more than he wanted the World Wide deal, he wanted her to be right.
     
    ***
     
    “Honestly, you’re the most obstinate man I’ve ever known.” Lilly fluffed the pillows at Davis’s back. When she’d driven up and found him unconscious on the ground, she’d aged ten years. She blew the bangs out of her eyes. That made her twenty-three years older than him.
    Thank God his vet hospital shared the road to his house or she might not have found him in time. “I don’t see why you couldn’t stay at the hospital.”
    “It’s a clinic, not a hospital, and I’d rather be home with you.” He laced his fingers behind his head and relaxed back on the pillows. “Nurse, I’m ready for my sponge bath.”
    She stuck out her tongue, caught herself, and pulled her tongue back in. That was improper and childish. She’d never done anything childish in her life—even when she was a child, she’d had to be the adult. She stepped back.
    “Too late. I saw it.” Davis