When August Ends Read online

  First Edition

  Copyright © 2018

  By Penelope Ward

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by: Jessica Royer Ocken

  Proofreading and Formatting by: Elaine York, Allusion Graphics, LLC

  Cover Model: Joseph Cannata

  Cover Photographer: Adam Zivo

  Cover Design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  * * *

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Penelope Ward

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  For Kandace Milostan

  Thank you for shining your light on the book world and for teaching us what really matters.

  CHAPTER ONE

  * * *

  HEATHER

  “Have you met the guy who moved into the boathouse yet?”

  I’d just returned home to our lakehouse after accompanying my mother to a doctor’s appointment this morning. My friend Chrissy had done me the favor of meeting our new tenant to give him the keys while I was out.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  Chrissy was grinning from ear to ear.

  “What’s that look for?” I asked.

  “He’s…interesting.”

  I lifted my brow. “In what way?”

  She snickered. “I think you should discover it for yourself.”

  That could only mean one of two things: either he was extremely good-looking, or maybe we had a psycho living among us.

  For the past several years, my family had rented out our converted boathouse on Lake Winnipesaukee—New Hampshire’s largest body of water. Located at the foothills of the White Mountains, it’s a popular destination for tourists looking to escape the city. As the locals say, “When you’re here, you’re on ‘lake time’.”

  It was just my mother and me at home now, and Mom didn’t work, so the income from the boathouse was a necessity to keep up with our bills. While it sometimes remained vacant in the winter, it was booked pretty consistently in the warmer months and even into the early fall. Sometimes people would rent it for a week and other times longer. It wasn’t really that big, so it was usually single people who stayed there, rather than families. This latest guy had booked it for nearly three months, until the end of August—the entire summer. That had never happened before.

  “So everything is all set with him?” I asked.

  “Yup. Seems like a decent guy overall. Didn’t say much, but he was polite. He was wearing sunglasses, so I couldn’t get a feel for his eyes. They usually tell a lot about a person, you know?”

  I knew his name was Noah, since I’d taken down his credit card information and run a quick background check. But otherwise, I didn’t know much about him—Noah Cavallari from Pennsylvania with a Visa card and a clear record.

  I never really mingled with our guests. When I was younger, my mother had strictly forbidden me from interacting with anyone staying in the boathouse—you know, just in case they weren’t good people. So even as an adult, I tended to keep my distance out of habit.

  As part of the deal in renting the boathouse, tenants got housekeeping services—courtesy of me. I’d go in, usually in the afternoons, make the bed and provide fresh towels, much like in a hotel. Guests also got access to the washing machine and dryer in the basement of the main house, which they could access with a key to the laundry room’s external door. So they never had to come inside our place at all.

  The inside of the boathouse featured a small kitchenette, allowing tenants to cook their own meals. The space was one room, plus the bathroom. There were several windows on all sides, though, which let in lots of light and a view of the surrounding lake.

  “How’s Alice doing today?” Chrissy asked.

  “The doctor is going to adjust her meds again. Overall, not her best, not her worst day.”

  That was as good as could be expected when it came to my mother, who’d been in and out of mental hospitals for years, depending on the severity of her episodes.

  Mom suffered from clinical depression. She’d struggled with it throughout her life, but it had been particularly bad since my older sister’s death more than five years ago. Opal had been a decade older than me. She was mentally unstable and had run away from home. During the years we’d been out of touch with her, she’d gotten deeper into her own mind and eventually took her own life.

  Losing my sister was by far the hardest thing I had ever experienced. Mom was never the same after that. Until Opal’s death, my mother had been able to keep her depression in check enough to be functional. Not anymore.

  Chrissy left for her nursing shift, leaving me alone in my bedroom. I looked out the window over at the boathouse. While the structure was on our property, it was set back from the main residence, closer to the lake. You had to walk down a gravel driveway to get there.

  Aside from his shiny, black truck parked outside in the distance, I hadn’t seen evidence of our new guest at all. And that was fine by me. I would wait until tomorrow afternoon to venture over there for housekeeping. Usually occupants left in the afternoons.

  During the day, I took care of everything around here. Then, five nights a week, I waitressed at a local pub called Jack Foley’s. That was the extent of my mundane life as it had existed since my mother’s depression got really bad. Someone had to run things, and I was the winner of that responsibility by default.

  The lakehouse—our main residence—and the smaller boathouse had been in my mother’s family for years. After my grandfather died, he’d left everything to Mom, his only child. Since everything was paid off, there was no mortgage. That was a good thing, given the fact that I was the only one with a job. As it was, I could just manage to keep the house running, and there were a lot of things waiting to be fixed.

  I don’t mean to be a downer when it comes to my life. I have a lot to be grateful for. Living on the lake is one of those things. Even though some days I feel like Cinderella, minus the evil stepsisters, the serene beauty of this place often makes up for it.

  ***

  The following day, it looked like the coast was clear. The tenant’s truck was gone, making it the perfect time to grab some fresh towels and visit the boathouse to clean.

  My Saint Bernard, Teddy, thought I was taking him f
or a walk, so he followed me out the door. I figured I would let him come with me.

  The afternoon air was sticky. Hazy sunlight partially blinded me as I made my way over with three towels of varying sizes tucked under my arm and a bucket of chemical supplies hung over my wrist.

  Upon entering the house, I immediately smelled his cologne. Masculinity hung in the air. A black men’s jacket was draped over the desk chair, and a large, unpacked suitcase was open on the floor. An expensive-looking watch lay on top of a laptop.

  His bed was already made. Perhaps he hadn’t seen the part of my confirmation email that explained our courtesy housekeeping service, or maybe he was just a neat person and couldn’t wait.

  The dog jumped up on the bed.

  “Get down, Teddy!”

  The next thing I knew, the door to the bathroom burst open. Everything after happened so fast. My bucket fell to the floor as I took in the Herculean man standing there wrapped in nothing but a small white towel. My jaw dropped.

  Teddy started barking.

  Noah’s deep voice sliced through me. “What the hell is going on here?”

  His hair was wet. I swallowed as my eyes trailed down the length of his body, then up again. I’m not quite sure why I lost my ability to think. I was just completely shocked to see him, let alone like this: mostly bare with water dripping down his sculpted torso.

  He isn’t supposed to be home.

  He broke me out of my trance. “Is there a reason you’re staring at me instead of leaving?”

  Um…because you’re hot as fuck?

  I abruptly turned around to face the door. “I just came to clean. I’m so sorry. I’ll come back later.”

  Stumbling, I ran out so fast I left the cleaning supplies behind that I’d dropped all over his floor. I thought I’d left Teddy behind, too, but thankfully he’d followed me out the door.

  I’d seen the man for only a matter of seconds, but I now knew why Chrissy had been snickering yesterday. He was drop-dead gorgeous with classic, chiseled features and perfect facial hair. He was really tall, too, and probably the most manly man I’d come across in a long time.

  He’s also rude. That was very clear. But hot. Dark hair, ripped body…he looked like he was maybe in his early thirties.

  My mother was in the kitchen making herself a sandwich when I returned to the house.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “You seem flustered.”

  I was panting a little. “I just made an ass of myself in front of the new tenant. His truck wasn’t there, so I thought it was safe to clean.” Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath to calm down. “He came out of the bathroom half-naked. I scared the shit out of him. And instead of leaving, I froze, stood there staring at him. He wasn’t happy.”

  Teddy’s tongue hung out as if he, too, was reeling from this experience.

  My mother stopped buttering her bread and started laughing—the first time I’d heard her laugh in a long time. Even if it was at my expense, that made me smile. It almost made what had happened worth it. Almost.

  Later that night, I opened my front door to walk Teddy, only to find the bucket I’d left behind in the boathouse on the steps outside. All of the cleaning supplies were back inside. Noah was a bit of an asshole—but apparently he was a courteous one.

  ***

  I had no further run-ins with Noah for the next few days. I knocked loudly on his door each afternoon to confirm he wasn’t home before entering the house to clean.

  On my nights off from work, one of my favorite things was a dip in the lake at sundown. I probably loved that most about having waterfront property. There was no better place to clear my head than in the water.

  The lake was also where I exercised. I could never get into things like running or fitness classes. But in the water, it felt like I was weightless, like I could do anything. So, I’d developed my own little water aerobics regimen. Exercises included things like jumping up and down into squats under the water or dancing like a maniac while waving my arms around. There was no rhyme or reason. I just did what I wanted. Anything to get my endorphins going.

  This evening I was off, so I was in the lake. I had my headphones on, rocking out to old-school hip-hop while bouncing around doing my thing, when I noticed something charging toward me. Before I knew it, his hands were on my shoulders.

  My heart raced.

  It took me a few seconds to realize it was Noah.

  CHAPTER TWO

  * * *

  HEATHER

  “What are you doing?” I shouted, my heart beating out of my chest.

  He let go of me abruptly. His breaths were heavy as he said, “You’re not drowning…”

  I took out my earbuds. “No! Why would you think that?”

  “You were flailing your arms around like a lunatic. From my damn porch, I thought you needed help.”

  My pulse was racing. “I wasn’t drowning. I was dancing.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Dancing…”

  “Yes.”

  “For fuck’s sake…” he muttered.

  He then turned around and trudged back through the water, headed to land.

  I stood in shock, gazing at his large frame as he slogged away. I’d encountered this guy twice and managed to piss him off within seconds each time.

  Then it dawned on me: he’d thought I was drowning and ran in to save me. He’d jumped in with his clothes on. Oh my God. I hadn’t been in any real danger, but I still needed to thank him.

  “Wait up!” I yelled.

  Noah didn’t stop for one second as he continued toward the boathouse.

  He’s really mad.

  Things were bad between us before this. I’ve really done it now. How was I supposed to know this was going to happen? I’d been doing my water aerobics for months, and no one had ever come around thinking I needed help. In fact, no one had ever come around at all.

  When I finally caught up to Noah, he was sitting on the boathouse’s wooden porch. I stopped just short of the front steps.

  Brooding and pissed, he’d leaned his back against the house. His broad shoulders rose and fell. His black T-shirt was plastered against his chest. His jeans were also wet, and his feet were bare. He was painfully hot—more so than any guy who’d come around these parts in a very long time. Likely ever. He might have been a little old for me, but that didn’t stop my entire body from buzzing as I took him in. His age—his maturity—was a major turn-on. My reaction to this man was both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

  He acted as if I wasn’t standing there. I watched as he turned around and reached through the open window to grab something inside the house—a cigar. He rolled it between his fingers before lighting up. I’d never liked cigar smoke, but there was something sexy about the way he held it in his hands. Speaking of his hands, they were big and veiny, powerful—hands that could harm just as easily as they could protect.

  He wrapped his lips around the cigar, and the tip glowed as he inhaled.

  I continued staring at his hands. Calloused and rough, they had seen their share of work. I sighed. Noah Cavallari was a man in every sense of the word.

  He continued to ignore me, and for some reason that made me even more determined to talk to him—probably opposite of the effect he’d intended to have.

  Nice try but “no cigar,” Noah.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m really sorry about that misunderstanding.”

  He took a long puff of the stogie and blew the smoke out. He then whipped his head in my direction so fast it startled me. “Who dances by herself in a lake?”

  “It was water aerobics,” I said.

  He closed his eyes, then surprised me with a long, hearty laugh; it vibrated throughout my body.

  Well, at least he has a sense of humor in there somewhere.

  “What were you listening to when I interrupted your little routine?”

  “I don’t know,” I lied.

  “I think you do.”

  “Alright,
I do. But I don’t want to tell you.”

  “Why not? I’m curious as to what kind of music makes someone flail around like that. Can I listen?”

  This day probably couldn’t get any worse. Figuring I owed it to him, I handed him my headphones, bracing for his reaction.

  He bent his head back and started to laugh even harder than before.

  I’d been listening to “Jump” by Kris Kross.

  I snatched the headphones off of his ears. “Happy now?”

  “I needed that. Thank you. I haven’t heard that song since I was like…seven. Certainly well before your time.” He chuckled.

  “Yeah, well, it’s a good song. It makes me want to—”

  “Jump?” He snickered.

  I bit my lip, then couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

  He held his hands up and offered a snide grin. “No judgment. I swear.”

  “I’m glad I could add some humor to your life,” I said. “Clearly, based on your unreasonable reaction to my being in your room the other day, it’s much needed.”

  His light expression faded as he looked at me with daggers in his eyes. “I came out of the shower half-naked to find a teenage girl standing there. What other reaction would have been appropriate?”

  Teenage girl?

  Oh, hell no.

  “I’m not a teenager, so you’re wrong there. And the answer is any other reaction besides the one you gave me. It was a misunderstanding, and your snapping at me was unwarranted.” Still miffed, I let out a breath, looking over at the lake and then back at him. “I’m Heather, by the way. We never formally met.”

  After a pause, he offered, “Noah.”

  Even the way his name rolled off his tongue sounded sexy.

  “I know your name…from your reservation. In fact, I ran an entire background check on you, but that didn’t cover personality problems, unfortunately. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Right. Not a murderer, just a prick who overreacts, apparently. They don’t have filters for that.”