IT HAD BEEN a long, hot day, and Deacon wanted nothing more than to cool off in his friend Bash’s air-conditioned bar and end the day with an icy cold beer.

Bash’s Chihuahua, Lou, greeted him as he walked through the door. He bent and petted her, then Lou scurried off, so Deacon wandered up to the bar.

Bash took a look at him and reached behind the bar for a cold bottle and opened it, then slid it across the bar. “Hot day?”

“Brutal for June. This summer is going to kill me.”

“That’s because you’re old and out of shape.”

Deacon took a few deep pulls from the bottle, letting the cold brew slide down his throat and quench his thirst. He put the bottle down and grinned at Bash. “Yeah, you’d like to be as out of shape as me, old man.”

Bash laid his palms on the bar. “We’re the same age.”

“You’re old and sedentary. And you’re married and expecting a baby.”

“And I still kick your ass at our weekly basketball games, so don’t give me that Old and Married bullshit.”

Deacon grinned. He loved to give Bash a hard time about the marriage and children thing. He took another swallow of his beer. “Bought a minivan yet?”

Bash laughed. “Not yet. But I do have my eye on a nice Jeep.”

“That’ll do.”

After a while they were joined by Carter Richards and Brady Conners, who’d just gotten off work at Carter’s auto shop. Bash gave both of them beers.

“Damn, it’s hot already,” Brady said. “I think I sweated out about ten pounds in the paint bay this afternoon.”

Deacon nodded. “I feel ya. If it’s like this in June, what’s August going to be like?”

“Boiling,” Carter said.

“You should probably have steak and loaded baked potatoes to replenish your reserves.”

Deacon nodded at Bash. “We should.”

“I can’t tonight,” Carter said. “Molly and I have plans, so I just stopped in for one beer.”

Deacon turned to Brady. “How about you?”

“I’m game. Megan is working late at the bakery. She’s doing some kind of special cake for a business event first thing in the morning. It was a last-minute request, so she told me she wouldn’t be home until later.”

“Then I guess it’s just you and me for steaks.”

Just then, their friend Zach Powers showed up.

“Did I hear ‘steak’?”

Deacon turned to him. “What, do you have steak radar or something?”

“Yeah. So are we having steak or not?”

“We’re having steak.”

Bash took out his order form. “Tell me how you want ’em.”

It had been great ever since Bash expanded the No Hope At All bar to include a restaurant, because it meant whenever Deacon got hungry while having beers, he could order food there. After they put in their steak orders, the guys took their drinks and moved to one of the tables.

“How’s the auto shop business?” Deacon asked.

“Busy,” Carter said. “In both mechanical and paint. And with Brady set to open his own shop, it’s going to get busier.”

“Hey, I’m training the new guy. He’s good.”

“Yeah, but he’s not you.”

“But he’s good. I told you I wouldn’t leave until I found a replacement. And you like Andy.”

Carter smiled. “Yeah, Andy’s really good. But he’s still not you.”

“So you settled on a place, Brady? Is it the one Reid mentioned a couple of months ago?”

Brady nodded. “Yeah. The one out on the highway near town. It’s a good location with great visibility. And I won’t have to build new. The concrete is already in place. We’ll just have to add some walls for offices, and all the plumbing, HVAC, and electrical.”

“That’s a good call. So who’s going to do the job for you?”

“I was hoping you and Reid would.”

He was hoping Brady would ask. “I’m sure we can manage that. Why don’t you give the office a call tomorrow and set up an appointment with us?”

“Will do. Thanks.”

They ate dinner, then hung out awhile longer to talk sports and work. After they said their good-byes, Deacon made his way home to his town house. He parked out front and made a short right to stop at the complex mailbox to use his key and pick up the mail. Then he headed up the stairs to his town house, opened the door, and breathed a sigh of relief at the arctic feel of his place.

He had preset his thermostat to start cooling the place down at five p.m. so that it would be icy cold by the time he got home. He laid his keys and the mail on the table by the front door, then headed upstairs toward his bedroom.

First thing on the agenda was to shower off the dirt and sweat of the day. So he stripped down and turned the shower on lukewarm, then stepped inside, closed his eyes, and let the water rain down over his head.

Damn, that felt good. He let all the grunge slide off of him as he stood there under the spray. He could stay here for hours, but he grabbed the soap and washed, rinsed, and turned the water off. He got out, then grabbed a towel and dried himself. He went to the bedroom and grabbed a pair of shorts, slid those on, then went downstairs and headed for the fridge, grabbing a bottle of beer. He retrieved the mail he’d left by the table at the front door and took that and his beer and stretched out on his sofa, putting his feet up on the coffee table.

Nothing much in today’s mail but a couple of bills and some junk, so he went through his e-mail, answered a couple of pressing ones, then made a note in his calendar about Brady’s shop so he’d remember to talk to Reid about it and follow up with Brady.

He finished his beer and finally felt like his body was cooled down. If this weather kept up he was going to feel boiled from the inside out by the end of summer. Maybe they’d get lucky and would get a good, cleansing rainstorm to cool things off.

He picked up the remote and turned on the TV, then scrolled through the channels and found a baseball game.

At the commercial, he got up and fixed himself a glass of ice water, then went back to the sofa and waited for the return of the game.

He thought about the day. It had been productive, and they were back on track. It felt good to finally have the main wall down. Which reminded him of Hazel. She’d been delighted to watch its destruction. Cute kid. Of course she’d be cute, with Loretta as her mother. She looked a lot like Loretta—same face shape, same smile. She was going to be beautiful like Loretta when she grew up.

His thoughts wandered to Loretta, to the way she’d looked today in her jeans and sleeveless silk top. The jeans had molded to her body and every time the wind had blown, the top had pressed against her breasts. That top she’d had on had been blue. It had always been his favorite color on her. Not that it mattered what color she wore, since she looked good in everything. But the blue brought out the unusual amber color of her eyes. Her eyes had been the first thing he’d noticed about her when they’d been in geometry class together in high school. She’d sat right across from him, and he’d constantly gotten in trouble that first week because he couldn’t stop staring at her.

And then when Mr. Walker had told him if he didn’t start paying attention he could move his desk out into the hall, Loretta had smiled at him and told him to keep his eyes on the blackboard and not on her.

God, she had an amazing smile. But he figured his dad would kick his ass if he got kicked out of geometry the first week of school, so he’d done his best to focus on the class and not on Loretta until the bell rang. Then he’d talked to her and asked her if she’d like to have lunch with him that day.

She’d said yes.

His lips curved as he remembered what that had been like. That first yes. That first lunch date. The first of many things they’d shared together.

It had been perfect back then, like a lot of teenage romances. He thought they’d had a future together. Maybe a forever together.

Until Loretta had blown them apart.

He picked up his water and took a long swallow, deciding that particular walk down memory lane hadn’t done him any favors.

Time to focus on the game on television, and not on the past.