Anyone who says that Christmas lights aren’t proper decorations can go to hell. They’ve come in handy more than a few times, and today’s definitely one of them.

I stand back and survey my work, glancing around the small motorboat’s deck. Not bad. Not bad at all. The lights line the boat’s perimeter and crisscross overhead to create a canopy of lights. It’s nothing fancy right now with the sun glaring up above, but once the sun dips below the horizon, it’ll look pretty damn good.

It better, because I’ve spent more time stringing up silly little lights and hauling furniture onto this boat than any man should. When I’d first approached my friend about borrowing his boat to watch the fireworks, I figured that was the extent of my planning. But then I realized that we may need chairs. And cushions so we’re comfortable. And music. And then maybe a table to put our drinks on, which meant getting a cooler. And if we already have a cooler, then why not get food?

Yeah. Regardless of what Summer may think, I have this Fourth in the bag.

I sweep my eyes around and mentally check off the items on my list. Looks like I’ve covered everything except food. I glance down at my watch and frown. If I leave now, I’ll have enough time to swing by the store before picking up Summer. Don’t want us to be late for our…whatever tonight is.

I hop off the boat and head for the parking lot, my thoughts staying on the confusing subject of what to label tonight. I’d been the one to call it a date in the first place. It had just slipped out. I hadn’t meant a real date when I said it, and that’s what I told Summer when she asked about it yesterday. But when she started skipping around my workshop, asking questions and playing around, I realized I wanted it to be more than just “plans.” I wanted it to be a date. A date with Summer, to be exact.

I pass the line of boats rocking gently in their moorings with a growing sense of unease. What was happening to me?

“Rendell!”

I turn around to see a weathered fisherman waving me over. “Afternoon, Joshua. Doing alright today?”

He shakes his head, sending his gray hair out in all directions. “Wish I could say I was doing better.”

“What’s up?” I ask, walking over. “Bad catch this week?”

“No, nothing like that. Angry about that storm.”

“Storm?”

“Haven’t heard?”

“Been busy all morning.”

“That you have.” He peers down at me. “Whatcha been up to, anyway? Never seen you down on this dock.”

“I’m borrowing Shaun’s boat for the fireworks. You seeing them?”

“Never have time for that nonsense. I’ll be out on the water today, but not watching some damn explosions in the sky.” Joshua scowls at me. “Always thought you saw it the same.”

I shrug. “It could be fun. But what’s this about a storm?”

Joshua’s eyes grow bright as he leans forward. There’s nothing a fisherman enjoys more than talking about the weather. “They saying nor’easter.”

“In July?”

He nods. “Been building down in the Carolinas and now it’s heading up the Atlantic. May hit us sometime tomorrow.”

I frown, the news hitting me hard. “I didn’t know.”

“Ah, they come up really fast, Rendell. That’s why I’m getting my pull in today while I still can.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean while there are still lobsters. You know what these storms can do to a season, what they do to the seas. Remember Ben Kosh?”

I give a slow nod as I think back to Ben’s dance with a nor’easter a few years back. He was caught on the water when it hit. He and his crew made it, but his boats were torn apart by the high winds and twenty-foot waves. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

Joshua moves to the bow and starts casting off the lines. “It’s supposed to glance off the coast, but they never do.”

“Yeah…” I look over at him as he fires up the engine. “When is it supposed to hit again?”

“Eh, don’t even think about going out there, Rendell.”

I scratch my jaw. “Who says that’s what I’m thinking?”

“Sixteen hundred hours tomorrow.” He gives me a hard look. “But if you do end up on the water, keep a lookout and be careful. We don’t want any more Bens, ya hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.”

“Alright.” He turns and scans the harbor for any passing boats. “Give me a push off, will you, son?”

I grin as I lean into the side of the boat. “Admitting your age, Joshua?”

“Ha! You wish.”

I watch him until he’s out of the harbor before walking back to the parking lot. I climb in my truck, fire up the engine, and glance at the clock. “Dammit.” I won’t have time to pick up food before swinging by Summer’s. Oh well. Better late than never.

I mull over this storm the whole drive over. Nor’easters are vicious, but I couldn’t risk taking a few days off. Besides, it could glance off the coast. I’d rather take a risk than lose thousands of dollars we could’ve caught.

I still haven’t made a decision when I stop in front of the Boothes’. I’m barely out of the truck when Summer bursts out of the house. “You’re right on time!” she calls out, a big smile on her face. “Gran wants to know if you want any leftover pie from last night.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as that is, we’ve got dinner plans.”

Her smile widens. “Do we, now?”

“You bet. Now hop in.”

“Thanks,” she says, a shy look on her face as I grab the door and take her hand to help her up. Normally, I’d be feeling the same way at having her soft hand in mine, but right now, all I can think about is the decision weighing on my shoulders.

“Where are we going?” she asks after we’ve turned back on to the main road.

“It’s a surprise.”

“You’re really not going to tell me?”

“Do you really want to know?”

She frowns. “I guess not.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

Her frown deepens into a scowl. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” I say a few beats later. I take a deep breath and put it out there. “I found out about a nor’easter today that might hit us and, well, it took me by surprise.”

“Oh, right. Captain was talking about that yesterday.”

I snap my head around. “What?”

“Is that bad?”

“Yes it’s bad, Summer! Why didn’t you say something yesterday?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know it was important!”

“Of course it’s important,” I snap, ignoring her hurt look. “It affects everything.”

“I’m sorry. I figured Captain would’ve told you… Anyway, I forgot all about it.”

“How could you forget about a nor’easter?”

“Well, I had other things on my mind!”

I snort. “Like what?”

She bites her lip. “You know…stuff.”

No, I didn’t. And frankly, I didn’t care. “If you had told me about it, then I wouldn’t have been blindsided.”

“And what would you have done, Koa?” she asks, glaring at the side of my face. “Phoned the storm and politely asked it to not bother Portland?”

I grip the wheel hard with my palms. “No. I could’ve planned for it. Rearranged boats, altered hours, changed locations.”

“Stop taking this out on me.”

“Excuse me?”

Her eyebrows go jagged. “You heard me. I didn’t cause this, so quit being a…a jerk!”

“A jerk? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it,” she argues. Summer purses her lips and thinks. “How about…arrogant ignoramus?”

“Yup. Much better.” I steal a glance at her and am relived to see a smile creeping onto her lips. “You’re right, though.”

“About what? I’m right about a lot of things.”

I grunt as I turn into the parking lot of the Wharf Bar. “I don’t know about that, but I do know I’m sorry. I wasn’t angry at you, Summer.”

“I know, just…keep a lid on it.”

I nod. “I’ll try.”

She turns and looks out the window. “Are we watching the fireworks from here?”

“Nope. We’re just here to pick up food for the surprise.” I climb out as she opens her door.

“Picking up food?” She turns to me as I walk around the front to her side. “We’re going on a boat, aren’t we?”

I gape up at her. “How…how did you—”

She hops down. “Well,” she says in the most smug voice I’ve ever heard, “we’re not going hiking because we both abhor such nonsense, and we’re not doing a picnic somewhere because we’re down at the wharf. So…” she grabs the restaurant’s door and swings it open “…boat it is!”

We step inside the brightly lit space and take a look around. It’s packed again like that first time, only this time, we’re the only sober people in the joint. As we push through the crowd to reach the bar, I realize that everyone’s probably been drinking since lunch.

“Alright, you’ve guessed the surprise,” I yell over the Jimmy Buffet track blaring out of the speakers. “Is that something you’d want to do?”

“Yes, I’m thrilled!”

My gut clenches at the huge smile on her face. I’m glad our fight didn’t ruin the mood. “Oh, um, cool.”

“I’ve never done that before.”

“Thought as much.” I throw my hand up in an attempt to wave over the bartender. “What do you want to eat?”

“Fish’n chips—and don’t let them skimp on that malt vinegar. I like my fries punchy.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n.”

She rolls her eyes and reaches for her wallet. “I’m going to hit the head before we go. How much do I owe you?”

I push back her twenty. “My treat.”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

She cocks her head and gives me a funny look.

“What?” I ask.

“Oh, just that you’re taking me out on a boat…at night…and paying for our meal.”

I shrug. “And?”

“Well, it sounds a lot like a date to me.”

“Well, it’s not.”

“Just telling you how it sounds.” She flashes a smile and then starts weaving her way through the crowd toward the back of the bar.

She’s wrong. This is not a date. It’s not…

Well, maybe a little.

“God, I thought she’d never leave,” a high-pitched voice chimes to my right. I glance down as Kimberly sidles up next to me. She’s decked out in a tight white American flag tank top, Daisy Dukes, and bright blue flip-flops. I can tell that everything’s carefully calculated to accentuate her supple curves and ample chest.

“Now…” she leans in and plants her palm on my shirt “…I’ve got you all to myself.”

I don’t return her coy smile. “And why would you want that, Kim?”

“Oh, sweetie, you’re not still mad about the other night?”

“I was never mad to start with. But I thought you vowed never to speak to me again.”

She throws her head back and laughs. “I didn’t really mean that, silly! I wasn’t thinking straight.” Her fingertips start inching down my chest. “You know I can’t stay away from you.”

I grab her hand as she makes a move for my pants. “Why can’t you see that I’m not interested?”

She pouts at me. “You don’t mean that.”

“No, I do. Not at all.”

“Well, I know a way to change your mind…”

I sigh. I know why she’s not taking the hint. Kimberly’s one of those women who loves a good chase. The more a man ignores her, the more she’s interested. Well, too damn bad. I’m not playing her game.

I push past her as the bartender comes over. “Hey, can I put a to-go order in?”

“Sure, what do you want?”

“Fish’n chips with vinegar fries, and a turkey club on white.” I thrust a few bills at him before he moves away. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.

I’m not surprised to see Kimberly still rooted to the spot. “Two meals for one?” she asks hopefully.

“For two. I’ve…got a date.”

I was hoping the half-lie would finally get Kimberly off my back, but instead, she seems to grow more interested. “What? Who is she?”

“No one you’d know.” I glance around the bar for “my date.” She’s been in the bathroom for a while…

“So you do date, Koa Rendell,” Kimberly cries triumphantly.

Damn. I walked right into that one. “Well…it’s not really a date—”

“Is it with a girl?”

I shrug, still trying to find my date-that’s-not-a-date.

“Then it’s a date. And when you get bored of her, give me a call.”

“Uh, yeah. Whatever.” If Kimberly responded to my obvious blow-off, I didn’t hear it, because I’d finally found Summer. My mood goes from bad to worse. “What’s that bastard doing with her?”

“What? Who?” Kimberly asks, but I barely hear her. All my focus on is on the douchebag who's cornering my first mate by the entrance to the bathrooms.

I start pushing through the crowd toward them, shoving people out of my way.

“Hey, watch it!”

“Sorry,” I mutter as I send a drunk guy into his drunker friend. He mumbles something after me, but I don’t care. All I care about is the frightened look on Summer’s face as she tries to find a way out from between Mike’s arms. I can tell from here that there’s nowhere for her to go.

I’m only a few steps away when it happens. Summer glances my way and spots me, throwing me a HELP ME that I receive loud and clear. I’m about to tell her to hold on, when Mike takes advantage of the distraction. He leans down, grips Summer’s chin in his palm, and tilts her face up. She looks up in confusion before the panic sets in.

I yell as Mike’s lips come crashing down on hers. I shove the last few drunk people out of the way and reach the bastard.

“Hey, you!” I grip his shoulder and yank him away, throwing him back onto his heels. I turn to Summer. “Are you okay?”

She nods as she wipes her lips. “Thank you,” she says shakily, then turns and glares at Mike. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

“Aw come on, baby,” Mike slurs, lurching forward.

Summer neatly dodges his groping hand and steps toward me. “Koa? Let’s leave. Now.”

“No probl—”

“Rendell?” Mike says, blinking at me. “Whaddaya think you doing here?”

“Getting you off my girl,” I snarl. Summer catches her breath next to me.

Mike looks between the two of us and frowns. “Your girl? No way. No way that hot piece of ass would go for you.”

The blood pumps through my veins as he stands there, laughing at the idea. But that’s not what’s getting to me. It’s what he called Summer.

I curl my hands into fists and step forward. Summer lays a hand on my arm and pulls me back. “Ignore him.”

“But he kissed you.”

She gives Mike a disgusted look. “He’s drunk.”

“Then maybe he should learn some manners,” I mutter dangerously.

“But not by you.” She yanks on my arm. “Come on.”

Mike looks up with a grin. “You should listen to her, Rendell. Your bitch knows what’s best.”

Bitch? I see red. I only have one thing on my mind right now, and it’s wiping that smug look off of Mike’s sweaty face.

I shake Summer off my arm and step forward. Mike’s smile slips a little as I rise to my full six-foot-one height. “Yeah, right,” he sneers. “You wouldn’t.”

Everything goes still for a moment. The noise of the bar fades to a murmur. Summer’s pleas grow quiet. The obnoxious drunk to my right disappears. Everything slips away as I stare at the man in front of me. The man that forced himself on Summer. She’s mine to look after.

“Wanna bet?” I reel my fist back and slam it into Mike’s nose. His head jerks to the side as intense pain erupts in my fist.

“Dammit!” I shout, grabbing my hand. The knuckles are tender, and I know I’m going to have a badly bruised hand tomorrow.

I look up as Mike cries out. The pain in my first vanishes with one look at his bloody face. Based on the blood pouring from his nose, I’m pretty sure I broke it.

“Koa!” Summer grabs my right arm and yanks. “What are you—”

“Come here, you bastard!” Mike shouts, lunging for me. With Summer on my arm, all I can do is step aside and hope Mike’s momentum takes him past me.

It does. His blow glances off my shoulder and throws me off balance, but I get a solid hit in on his back as he flies past me.

“Shit!” Mike howls as he hits the floor. I’m stepping toward him to finish him off when Summer grabs my head with her palms and twists it to hers.

“Stop,” she shouts, scowling up at me. “You’re hurting him!”

“Stop?” I point to Mike flailing around on the grimy floor amidst a growing ring of onlookers. “He forced himself on you!”

“I know, but I was fine.”

“No you weren’t.” I stop as I spot the owner of the bar striding toward us. He’s a big guy named Kyle that I don't want to piss off.

I glance at Mike bleeding on the floor. Uh…piss off even more.

“We’ve gotta go,” I say, grabbing Summer’s hand.

She jerks out of my grasp. “No!”

“Fine. Suit yourself.” I step back and push my way toward the exit, not caring if Summer follows. I shove through the doors and head for the parking lot, shielding my eyes against the setting sun as it glints off the metal hoods of the cars.

Who does she think she is? I fought for her and she’s getting pissed off? Totally ungrateful—

“Koa!” I whirl around as Summer barrels out of the bar and strides up to me. Based on the scowl plastered on her face, I’m not going to like what she has to say. “What were you thinking?”

“What are you talking about?”

She waves a hand behind her, her face a mixture of fear and anger. “I've never seen you so…so violent! It wasn’t expecting it.”

“Maybe I don’t like men forcing themselves on you.”

Summer narrows her eyes. “I didn’t need you to rescue me.”

“You sure looked like it to me.”

“I’ve had plenty of men hit on me—”

“Not that scumbag. I know Mike. He’s a piece of shit who's gone too far with a lot of women.”

“Oh, well… That doesn’t change the fact that you just beat a man up!”

“He deserved it.” I step toward her. “No one touches you like that or calls you a bitch and gets away with it.”

Summer bites her lip and stumbles back. “Koa—”

“I was only doing what’s right, Summer.”

“What’s right is beating up a man over a kiss?”

I groan and run a hand over my bruised knuckles. “Christ! You drive me wild sometimes.”

“I—I what?” Summer takes a deep breath and throws her chin up. “It doesn’t matter. I still think you overreacted.”

I try to regain control of my anger. “Fine, but I wouldn’t have needed to step in if you had avoided him like I said.”

“What?”

“Don’t give me that,” I growl. “I told you—”

“He cornered me when I came out of the bathroom! And I can talk to whomever I want, Koa.” Summer looks away and lowers her voice. “So can you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her eyes flash as she meets mine. “Oh, I saw you.”

“Saw me what?”

“Talking to that girl. You two looked pretty cozy to me.”

“What? You mean Kimberly?” I scowl at her. “Dammit, I told you I don’t give a rat’s ass about her.”

“Didn’t look that way to me,” Summer argues, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Then you saw it wrong.”

“And so did you.”

“No way, honey. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time!”

“And so was I!”

Our chests heave as we glare at each other in the dying light, the parking lot quiet except for the low murmur of voices filtering out from the bar behind us. I stare down at Summer’s flushed face and livid eyes with anger of my own.

Summer shakes her head and brushes past me. “Take me home.”

“What?”

“I want to go home.”

I follow her with my eyes. “You’re kidding.”

She turns and stares at me. “Am I going to have to walk?”

“No...but what about our plans?”

“Consider them canceled.”

She’s serious. She’s dead serious. “Goddammit,” I mutter, striding forward. I pass her without a glance. “You coming, your highness?”

I can hear her mumbling something under her breath as she stalks after me. She doesn’t offer it and I don’t ask. I reach my truck and climb in. This time I don’t help her into her seat. She’s a big girl, right?

We don’t talk the whole drive back to her house. I consider trying to work through whatever the hell happened back there when I roll into the driveway, but she’s up and out of the truck before I’ve barely come to a complete stop. I watch her fly up the front steps and storm through the front door. It slams behind her, cutting off my view and source of angst. Silence descends, leaving me alone and unequipped to deal with the tumultuous aftermath of what might just be the worst fight of my life.

Well, one thing’s pretty damn clear. What had promised to be my best Fourth of July has now turned into my worst.

Happy frickin’ birthday, America. Do you feel any different?