Summer's Kiss (The Boys of Ocean Beach 1)

I make a face. “No.”

“Ivy wore this nurse outfit last year. It was killer.” She sighs. “I should have gone to college.”

Just then I spot the black, halter-tied bikini top with matching boy-shorts. “How about that?”

She lets Sibley loose on the floor and picks the suit off the rack. After inspecting it for a minute, she hands it back. “Perfect. Go try it on.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m paying the cashier and ignoring Anita’s smug grin when my phone rings. This time I check before I answer.

“Hey, Mom,” I say, taking my bag off the counter.

“Are you nearby? I’m about to leave.”

“Anita and I are still shopping. I’ll see you later?”

“I want you to come with me.”

“Where? And why?” I follow Anita out of the store and into the parking lot. I stand outside the car while she fights with Sibley over the car seat.

“That woman from the other day called me back. She’s ready to talk.”

“Really?” I ask in surprise. I have to admit, I’m curious. “Well, yeah, I can be there in about twenty minutes. We’re just at the surf shop near the island.”

I hang up the phone and get in the car next to Anita. “I guess we’ll have to try out that suit later on. I’ve got Donald Gaskins’ family members to harass this afternoon.”

“Boo,” she whines. “So you’re like the George or Bess to her Nancy?”

“Who?”

“Nancy Drew’s best friends? Duh.”

“Oh!” I think about it for a second. “Which one was the heavy one who always wanted to eat pies?”

“I think Bess. George is really tough.”

“Hmm, I need a third category. The last time I went with her I tried to hide in the car.”

She laughs. “That’s okay. I was thinking you could debut it tomorrow anyway. We’re taking the boats out around noon.”

I laugh. “I doubt there’s any need for me to make a grand entrance or anything, but sounds fun.”

“Hmmm,” she hums, turning onto the beach road. “I think there will be more interest than you expect.” I roll my eyes but she flashes me a grin. “Well, it’s true.”

“Whatever,” I tell her, refusing to take the bait for whatever she’s trying to imply. “I’m happy to go to the beach party tomorrow. And wear my new suit. If my mom and I survive our trip to the middle of nowhere.”

My mother, full of surprises lately, lays another one on me when I get back to the camper. Nick leans against the SUV door, fussing with his camera.

“Hey,” I call, walking up.

He gives me a quick smile. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I called him,” my mom says, exiting the camper. The door screeches and slams behind her. “Anita told me Nicholas is a very good photographer. I thought it’s be good to document our investigation.”

“Awesome,” I say, considering that having a linebacker, or whatever-the-hell position he plays, with us is a great idea.

We pile in the SUV and Nick sits in the back, quietly answering my mother’s millions of questions about growing up in Ocean Beach, football, and the Citadel.