The next few days passed in a blur (of kisses) as Sloane became a regular fixture at dinner. During the days when she was busy with the store, Bowen and I found ways to keep ourselves busy, and it was evident that summer was truly in full swing as the town began to come alive. Streets and vacation homes filled with tourists escaping the busy surrounding cities in search of a relaxing summer, and the event to officially kick off the season was the town's Fourth of July festival.

Being such a tightly knit community, Neptune Bay went all out—a parade, a cookout sponsored by local restaurants, a dunk tank, face painting, a dance. And of course, to top off the night, a spectacular display of fireworks at the beach. It was an event I always tried to be around for, and since leaving to pursue hockey, I'd only missed one year.

This year, I knew, was surely going to be different—seeing as I was responsible for leading a six-year-old around instead of helping out at Hollis' grill station outside The Watering Hole like I normally would—but I still woke up just as excited as every other year.

And so did Bowen.

He barely finished his cereal before the hyper energy within him burst and he began babbling enthusiastically about what he had planned for the day.

"I want to go swimming at the beach first, because after I get my face painted, I don't want it to get ruined by the water. But maybe we can still participate in the sandcastle competition after lunch, which will definitely be pizza. And maybe ice cream for dessert. Then there's the parade, where I'll hopefully get candy, and then be able to go get a hotdog for dinner. Then I promised to dance with Sloane before the fireworks."

I quirked an eyebrow as I sat across the table from him. "Is that all?" I mused.

He thought about it for a second, tapping his finger against his lips before he said, "I'm probably missing something, but I just want to do everything! They always have new activities and food to try."

"Then you better hurry up and get dressed, or else things may start happening without you."

Bowen was having none of that. He clambered out of his chair and hurried up the stairs, yelling at me to get ready as well. Not wanting to put a damper on his day, I quickly cleaned up, got ready, and was downstairs putting a leash on Scout when Bowen reappeared in the living room.

"We match!" he exclaimed; eyes bright as he pointed at the t-shirt I donned. An exact replica of his—white with an American flag on the back and blue lettering on the front that spelling out Fourth of July—which wasn't surprising, since I'd purchased them that way.

"We do," I agreed, "and Scout's even joining in."

I'd found a pile of old Fourth of July memorabilia in the shed, including an American flag bandana, which I'd handily tied around Scout's neck so he wasn't missing out on the festivities.

"Amazing," Bowen said, reaching to take the leash from me. "When is Sloane going to be meeting up with us?"

"I told you, buddy, she's got to work this morning and then has plans with some of her friends," I explained. While it was technically a holiday, Wilma's didn't completely close down. Sloane had given June the day off, going in herself to open, and would operate with a limited menu until around one, when she'd close down early and meet Mara and the rest of her friends for a relaxing afternoon at the beach. "She promised to find us around dinner time, but if she doesn't look busy, maybe we'll drop in and say hi once we finish swimming."

He nodded in understanding. "So the sooner we leave, the sooner we'll see her?"

I chuckled, honestly loving how much he'd taken to my girlfriend. "Sure."

Grabbing my hand, he more or less dragged me out the front door in a hurry, shouting with glee, "Then let's go!"

***

Bowen had more energy today than I'd ever seen him have. If I had to guess, I would've thought he'd need time to rest before the parade—which would've required skipping the sandcastle building contest—but as Bowen turned to grin up at me as the parade floats passed by, he was support a bright blue participation ribbon for the masterful creation of sand he built less than an hour before

And there was no evidence of his spirit dimming.

I crouched to his level and, considering we were a few rows back in the crowd, asked, "Do you want a lift?"

Nodding excessively, he passed me Scout's leash—who was laying blissfully on the concrete as if the world around him didn't exist—and climbed up to sit my shoulders, letting out a delighted yelp as I stood to full height. Making Bowen one of the tallest amongst the crowd and allowing him to get a great view of the festivities.

So great that one of the teenagers in the parade spotted him wide-eyed and waving almost immediately, and quickly veered in our direction to offer him one of the lollipops he was giving out.

"Thank you!" Bowen said, accepting it and ripping off the wrapper without hesitation.

The teenager grinned and waved as he walked away. "Happy Fourth!"

Content with licking his sugary death stick, Bowen wiggled around on my shoulders for the next twenty minutes as he cheered along to the rest of the parade. But once the biggest float of them all coasted by—sporting the mayor and her family decked out in red, white, and blue as they waved to the townsfolk—the crowd began to slowly disperse, and I lifted Bowen off my shoulders to set his feet back on the ground.

"Where to next, buddy?"

He looked around with his thinking face on, as though the answer would come to him through the throngs of people around us. "Can we get a hotdog now?"

A bark from Scout made it clear he backed Bowen's choice.

"You're hungry already?" I asked in return, seeing as it was barely even five 'o'clock. "You don't want to go to the playground, or check out the bouncy castle?"

"There's a bouncy castle?" he asked in awe.

"Sure is," I replied, ruffling his spring blond curls. "I saw it set up on the baseball pitch with the dunk tank and cornhole."

"Then let's do that first, but then, hotdogs," he said matter-of-factly.

"Wouldn't want to come between you and your hotdog," I mused, taking his hand before he ran ahead.

With the festival more or less contained to the beach front and surrounding area, it didn't take long to reach the baseball pitch, and with the giant bouncy castle in sight, I let Bowen's hand drop and watched as he took off towards the inflatable contraption with glee. Taking a seat at the end of one of the dugout benches, letting Scout relax after feeding him a treat, and offered a friendly smiled to the man already sat at the other end. He was around my age, maybe a few years younger, and also appeared to be waiting around as his kid enjoyed the festivities. His gaze averted fairly quickly, but after a few seconds passed, he looked back with a flash of recognition in his eyes. "Hey, you're Ryan Nyberg."

Considering I'd never seen this man before, it was clear he was a tourist, and while most of the locals didn't bat an eye when I was around—since a majority of them remembered the rascal I'd been as a child—the same couldn't be said for tourists.

The corner of my mouth lifted. "Yeah, man. How's it going?"

"Good, yeah good," he said, letting loose a laugh in disbelief. "I gotta say, I'm a big Knights fan and love to watch you guys play during the season."

"Happy to hear that."

"I, uh, am sorry about how things ended this year though." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Are you in Neptune Bay to lay low for the summer?"

Sometimes I forgot that high-profile news around my personal life, particularly regarding Liam's death, was public knowledge. It didn't feel that way to me, having stayed off social media since leaving Boston, but I also understood fans being curious as to what had caused me to be pulled in a Game 7 overtime situation.

"I'm actually from here, so I tend to come back during the offseason to spend time with family," I said. I figured this guy didn't have any bad intentions, and either way, knew eventually word would get out, so I wasn't hesitant in saying, "Plus, I'm getting used to some new personal obligations."

I shifted my gaze out toward the bouncy castle and waved when Bowen looked over at me.

"Damn." A low whistle escaped him. "Sorry to bring it up, though I will say, I definitely understand the situation," he explained, a smile slowly forming on his lips as a little girl the same age as Bowen skipped over from where the face painting station was set up, pink butterflies displayed on her cheeks. "Taking care of someone by yourself isn't easy, but it's definitely worth it."

I nodded slowly in agreement. "I'm slowly starting to see that."

Standing up, he picked his daughter up and settled her on his hip before turning back to me. "It was good to meet you, man. Hope to be able to watch you and the Knights chase the Cup again this year."

"We'll definitely try."

As he left, I realized that while I found it strange—talking about hockey and raising a kid in the same breath—it wasn't as daunting as it'd seemed just weeks before. Maybe it was because my routine was becoming the norm, or the realization that, whatever came next—whatever my decision ended up being regarding hockey—Bowen was a part of that.

Though that decision didn't have to be made today. Today was about fun and relaxation, and as Bowen came bounding across the grass a few minutes later, having jumped himself silly, he had only one thing on his mind.

"Hotdogs now?" he asked, and I chuckled.

"Yeah, buddy, we can go grab hotdogs now."

He let out a loud whoop of excitement before taking my hand and more or less dragging me and Scout towards The Watering Hole, where several barbecues were set up outside to deal with everyone's grill cravings. Despite it still being a bit too early for dinner, there was a decent sized line for food, which certainly made Bowen antsy as he watched each person in front of us get their order.

When we got to the front of the line, Bowen wasted absolutely no time. "Can I get a hotdog, please?" he asked, basically hopping up and down with excitement.

The person handling the orders, who I recognized as one of Hollis' servers at the bar, nodded with a grin. "Sure, little guy."

"Make that two hotdogs and two waters," I said, pulling my wallet out.

"Well, look who it is," Hollis mused as he showed up with three large bags of ice for the drink coolers. "The guy that decided he was too good to grill this year."

I rolled my eyes. "You know if you actually needed the help my parents would've taken this guy here for a couple hours," I said, motioning to Bowen as I pulled a twenty out and handed it over.

"I'm just messing with you," he chuckled. "I've got enough help this year to keep things running without your mediocre burger flipping skills."

"I don't remember them being so mediocre when I did a majority of the work last year."

"Oh, so he's got jokes."

"Not a lie detected."

A wide grin spread across his face. "Agree to disagree," he said with jest before clapping his worker on the shoulder, telling him to take a break before things got even busier. "But how's your day going? Enjoying things?"

"Bowen's definitely soaking everything in to the full extent," I replied, gesturing to where he stood a few steps away, eagerly watching Hollis' volunteers work the grill as he awaited his food. "But things are good. Hopefully meeting up with Sloane once we're done here."

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Gonna make some fireworks of your own?"

Rolling my eyes at his good-natured ribbing, I said, "We'll see."

"Well, give her my best," he said, crouching to pull two waters from the cooler, "but I'm going to have to ask you to skedaddle. You're holding up my line."

I laughed, accepting the waters as I moved forward. "See you around."

Sidling up to Bowen, we waited for our food and, once served, sought out the closest seating area—which happened to be one of the picnic tables set up on The Watering Hole's back patio. As soon as his little butt hit the painted wood Bowen immediately dug into his hotdog, so immensely happy that he didn't say a word.

"So, after we're done eating, are we meeting up with Sloane?" Bowen asked a few minutes later, not bothering to swallow the bite he'd taken before talking.

"Next time, try waiting until you don't have a mouth full of food to ask a question, okay?" He nodded, lifting a hand to cover his mouth as he chewed. "And yeah, we should be able to. Let me just text her real quick."

I pulled out my phone and opened the ongoing conversation I had with Sloane.

Aww, Bowen's adorable – I'm just at Mara's finishing a glass of wine, so if I can meet you guys at the beach in fifteen if that works? On the boardwalk next to Wilma's?

Lucky guess ;)

"You're in luck," I relayed to Bowen. "Sloane can meet us at the beach in a little bit." I glanced at his shirt and chuckled as, somehow in the last thirty seconds, a mess of ketchup had splattered down the front. "But first, maybe we'll stop back at home quickly to drop off Scout and get you a change of clothes, okay?"

He nodded sheepishly, though didn't give much care as he finished off his hotdog by wiping his hands on his already dirty shirt.

Twenty minutes later, after a bit of delay at home with getting Scout settled with his dinner and Bowen not being able to decide what t-shirt to replace his dirty one with, we were walking up to the beach. As soon as Wilma's was in sight, it was easy for me to spot Sloane standing up against the brick, her gaze aimed down at her phone.

And god damn was she beautiful.

Wearing a flowing white summer dress that went down to her knees, a red headband, and a navy belt, I was sure most people thought she blended into the crowd. But seeing the way the sun illuminated her skin and the way her hair and dress moved ever so slightly with the ocean breeze, she took my breath away.

"Hey, you," I greeted as we approached, wanting to pull her close. To wrap my arms around her body and kiss her like no one was watching. Bowen hopped in front of me though, launching his arms around her center as she laughed, so instead I asked, "How's your day been so far? Was it busy at the store this morning?"

Meeting my gaze, it was almost as though she could read my thoughts. Her eyes flashed with heat before she replied. "Good. People flooded the store this morning to get their fill of June's desserts, but when we closed the rush had long since died down. It was nice to spend a free afternoon at the beach though, since it's rare I get to do that anymore." Her smile softened. "What about you guys? How's your day been?"

"So fun!" Bowen cut in before launching into an explanation of everything we'd done today.

Sloane listened intently, oohing and aahing at the appropriate parts. "That sounds great." She looked back to me, lifting a brow with amusement. "And you? Did you have as good a day as him?"

"Definitely," I said before wrapping my arm around her shoulder. I leaned in closer, my lips grazing her ear. "But it's better now that you're here."

Which was the truth, and when she turned her head slightly so our lips met briefly—still keeping things PG when others (mainly Bowen) were around—I had hope that it'd get even better later tonight. Because Bowen was headed to his grandparents after the fireworks and, for the first time since we started dating, we'd have the night to ourselves.

To hopefully, as Hollis had so eloquently put it, make our own fireworks.