Entangled Summer (14 page)

Blood dripped from Steve’s split lip. He wiped it, looked at his hand and then cursed. “Whatdya do that for man, I told you I didn't mean it.”

“Steve, you need to stop talking.” I said, as Kenzie ran over. She'd heard the commotion, but missed the main event.

“No keep talking Caldwell. Just say one more word.” Troy taunted, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “One more word, one wrong move, that’s all I need to get you axed permanently this time. Now I said apologize.”

“Whatever,” he waved me off.

Troy gave a dark humorless laugh and stepped toward him. “That didn't sound like an apology.” He said with stone cold calm.

Even I trembled. Steve however was either too stupid or too drunk to realize how close he was to the end of his life. Or at least to losing some of his teeth.

I pushed both my hands against Troy's chest. “Let it go. He's wasted and doesn’t know what he's saying.

Kenzie looked back at me, after blotting Steve’s lip with a napkin. “What the hell happened? I go for drinks and all hell breaks loose?”

“It’s nothing. I think they have history or something,” I lied. Her boyfriend was a scumbag, but this wasn't the best place for her to discover that fact. She'd be angry enough when she found out what he'd said to me. She didn't need the audience already watching us getting another eyeful of drama.

Troy didn’t have to suggest that Steve left, he was all for it.

Steve grabbed Kenzie’s hand. “C’mon, we’re outta here. The guy’s still a loose cannon.” He paused to look back at us. “You’ll regret that dick move, Bellisaro.”

Troy was still fuming, but he had the waitress call them a cab to take them back to the camp, and gave very explicit instructions, and a wad of cash, for the driver to make sure Kenzie made it home alone. She’d be less than impressed with
that
come morning.

Then he’d gone to see about paying for the damages, and buying everyone one in the place a round. I could tell he’d had some experience in smoothing things over and calming people down. Playing the savior was a really good role for him. By the time he’d returned to me I was sitting at the bar, polishing off my third drink. It might as well have been my twelfth. I was sort of a lightweight in that department. But it did give me courage, to do things I might not ordinarily do. Or say.

Troy eyed my empty glasses and cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve been busy.”

“You were gone.” I said, a little irritated at being babied. Steve had a point, we weren’t his puppets to control. “You know, I can take care of myself. I didn’t need you to run in and be all alpha hero.”

He pulled out the stool next to me and sat down, his arm resting against mine. The sparks that traveled across my skin were very distracting.

“Really sweetheart, cause it looked to me like you needed saving.” He said it playfully but I didn’t think any of this was funny. It had taken a few drinks too many to push Steve’s words out of my head. And Kenzie, she actually liked this guy. How was I going to explain to her that he was nothing more than another creep like so many of the others she’d met?

I swallowed the last of my drink, before Troy finally waved off the bartender. “Maybe you’ve had enough.”

“Maybe not.” I said, attempting to flag her back over. Not a chance. He was flashing his cash around and not one single person in the place would ever cross him. I pouted. “Fine.”

“Don’t let that idiot get to you Nora. He’s brain-dead.”

“I’m not worried about him.”

“Then what are you trying to hide from in the bottom of a glass?”

“You.” I said brazenly. Alcohol will do that.

He nodded once. “I think,” he said quietly, “we should get you out of here.”

My eyes narrowed and I nibbled my lower lip. “I was thinking that exact same thought.” I’d show that pig Steve I wasn’t afraid of having sex.

Troy took my hand and led me back to his car. He’d only had one drink the whole night, and most of that had ended up on the floor after he shoved Steve into it.

He strapped me in and I leaned back against the supple leather seat, wondering absently if I should seduce him here, or wait til we got back to his place.

Imagine my disappointment when he parked the mustang, helped me out and proceeded to walk me back to my cabin.

“Hey wait,” I said. “I have a better idea.” I stretched up on my toes to nibble his earlobe. Then let my tongue trail down the side of his neck.

“What are you doing?” he asked warily.

“Seducing you.”

I could hear the trace of laughter in his voice.

“Really. You might want to save that until you’re sober.” he said.

That’s when I realized I was licking his hair and not his neck.

I lowered onto my heels and stepped back to look in his eyes.

“Let's go back to your place. I could spend the night and we could pick up where we left off.”

His eyes narrowed as they roamed over me. “Where we left off?”

“Yeah.” I weaved to the left. “You know, last year.”

Man that half-smile of his was sexy.

“I want more than anything to pick up where we left off Nora. But not tonight.”

“Whew. It’s crazy hot out here.” I mumbled, then I reached down and tugged the thin sweater over my head, leaving nothing but the clingy strapless dress Kenzie made me wear. Then I kicked off my heels, and nearly fell over trying to pick them up.

Troy caught me before I toppled. I took advantage of the moment and pressed myself into him trailing kisses along his jaw.

He exhaled a long ragged sigh-slash-moan, and dragged a hand through his hair. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to say no to you?"

“Then stop saying no.”

Even in my decidedly inebriated state I could tell he was reconsidering my proposal.

“I’m not saying no babe. I’m saying not tonight. You're tanked, and I'm—“

“Incredibly hot?” I interjected, then giggled like a five year old on too much sugar. I stepped out of his embrace, swerved and brushed against a rose bush. Scratches marked my shins in thin red lines. “Ouch. That's gonna sting tomorrow. Nope. Correction. That's gonna sting tonight.”

“Alright. Before you stagger head first into a hornets nest...” He scooped me up in his arms.

“Whoa, put me down, you're gonna drop me.”

“Only if you don't stop squirming,” he said.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Fine, but I wanted it noted that I tried. I wasn't the backer downer this time.” I poked his shoulder. Then buried my face in his neck.

I felt his breath quicken. “Duly noted.” he said.

Even half-drunk I could hear the struggle for self-control in his voice. It made me smile.

After a few minutes I twisted in his arms. “You don’t need to carry me,” I protested. “I can walk the rest of the way.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he set me back on my feet. The ground dipped and I teetered to the side. His hand touched my waist, steadying me on my feet. "You okay?"

"Oh I'm more than okay." The feel of his touch ignited a wave of fire through my body. I pulled closer, lifting my face to his, I kissed him once. Twice. And then again… a little longer and fuller each time.

"Nora—" He said my name in a cross between a warning and a plea.

The ground lurched to the side again and I nearly fell, but this time as he tried to catch me, I took him down with me, right into the ditch. We laid there in the cold damp grass, me on top of him, my mouth hovering just above his.

I sucked in a sharp breath. “Sorry,” I whispered unapologetically, moving my lips against his.

Troy moved shifted with lighting speed—the world flipped upside down and suddenly the grass was tickling my back and he was above me looking down.

Now this turn of events, I liked.

I reached up and curled my fingers into his shirt, lowering him to me. Nuzzling his neck, I murmured against his skin, “Mmmm, you smell really good." My fingers feathered through his hair. "Like an endless summer night." I cooed.

Resistance briefly waning, Troy closed his eyes letting a low moan rumble from his throat. He caught one hand and then the other and pinned them against the ground next to my head. "You don't know what you're doing."

“I know exactly what I'm doing,” I insisted. “You were with Celeste, why don’t you want to be with me?” I shifted my hips under his.

His eyes closed again, but when they reopened, it was with dark determination. "You're too wasted to know what you're doing."

I managed to free my arms and reach them around his neck, but he sprang to his feet, then tugged me up with him.

My stomach hollowed a little, at the sudden motion.

“I’m taking you home.”

“I don't want to go home,” I pouted. “I want—”

"Nora," he spoke so sharply I flinched. "I know what you want. But there is only one thing I'm letting happen tonight. Me, taking you, home."

Troy was gathering logs for the big campfire when I finally surfaced the next morning. I’d asked Sara to cover my morning class since I was in no condition to teach when I got up. My head pounded and I was once again reminded of why I wasn’t a drinker.

I strolled over to where Tory was working, a broad smile growing on my face as I approached him.

“You missed your first class,” he said, gathering some wood he’d split and tossing into his pile.

I shrank back at his sharp tone. “I know. I’m so sorry about that. Sara said she’d fill in for me, so—”

“This isn’t day camp Nora. It’s an expensive private school. When you’re expected to be somewhere, we expect you to be there,” he snapped.

“I know it’s not day camp. You’re right. And I’m sorry.”

He picked up a stump of wood and set it on the ground in front of him, still refusing to look at me.

“Want me to say it again? I’m sorry. Sorry I drank too much and sorry I acted like an idiot.”

He didn’t answer. His axe swung down over his shoulder and split the stump with one swing. It splintered obediently in two and I wondered offhandedly if anything living or not, would dare oppose him. He radiated confidence and commanded respect. Of course I also had the privilege of knowing his other side. The side that kissed with passion and full abandon. This morning however he was distant and frosty, and clearly upset with me.

I heaved a long sigh. My head still hurt and I hadn’t sleep well. “That came out wrong,” I said, feeling bad for my part in the negative tone of our conversation. “I'm tired and grumpy. And obviously not thinking clearly.”

“Obviously,” he said without looking up. “No bra.”

My mouth fell open for a second and I glanced down at my shirt. It was fully buttoned but a little on the thin side.

“No judgment. But, this is a children's school, so...” Derision dripped from his words. He exhaled a sharp breath as he lobbed the splintered log off to the side.

I crossed my arms feeling my face register at least five shades of red.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Like I said. Tired.”

“Right. Well, whatever is keeping you awake at night...” he finally lifted his head to look at me. “You may want to think about cutting it out for the rest of the summer. I need you here and I need you focused.” The axe came down twice as hard on the next stump.

“I said I was sorry.”

“Yeah. I heard you the first dozen times.”

Wow. He was in a foul mood. And judging by his scowl, it totally eclipsed mine. “Did I do something to tick you off? Cause if I did—”

“No.” He pitched the axe to the ground. It landed blade side embedded in the earth. “It’s not you.”

“You sure?”

“Nora, please. Let it go. I have work to do and I'm sure you do as well.”

I watched him for a moment, wondering what happened between last night and this morning. Then I shrugged. “You're right. I have lots of better things to do.”

I stomped off toward the set. I really didn't have anything to do, but I wasn't in the mood to be anybody's punching bag. Not after waking up with this wicked killer headache, and a knot in my stomach over the conversation I needed to have with Kenzie. I sat down in front of a twelve foot canvas backdrop, and started painting the sky blue with broad angry strokes.

Kenzie caught up with me at around lunch time. I was still painting the set in my self-imposed solitary confinement. My brush was reloaded with blue paint as I went over the same area for the umpteenth time.

“Hey, I'm heading out for fish-n-chips with Steve.”

“You know, the
please stay on the grounds during the day
rule is more than just a suggestion.”

She laughed. “We'll be back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

“I've heard that one before,” I muttered, diligently stroking another coat of paint onto the canvas.

She pointed her pinkie. “You know, I don't think your sky can get much bluer.”

I frowned, how many coats had I put on—three? Ten? I’d lost count. Somewhere in my muddle of trying
not
to figure Troy out and trying
not
to think about Darcy, I'd gotten lost in the rhythmic repetition.

“Skies can always be bluer.” I countered, setting down my brush. Maybe this was as good a time as any for the talk.

Kenzie rolled her eyes. “You comin’ or not?” Her hand planted on the hip she thrust to the side.

I stared up at her face, lit with mischief and joy and I backed down. I couldn’t take that from her. The summer would be over soon enough, and that piece of dirt would be out of her life. If she chose to stay with him, maybe it wasn’t any of my business.
Chicken
.
She’s your friend.
Right. I
had
to tell her.

“Kenzie, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“It’s going to have to wait hon, Steve’s waiting for me. Come with us, you can tell me on the way.”

“No. You kids have a blast without me. No one wants a third wheel.” I was sure the invite was more out of friend duty than anything else.

“You sure? He's buying.” She wagged her brows.

“Very. Have fun. Maybe we can catch up at dinner?”

“Yeah, doubtful. You know Steve and I do dinner exclusively.” She winked, then danced off to the arms of a guy who didn’t deserve a grain of the excitement she felt for him.

By dinner time I'd managed to move past the very blue sky, and finish painting the rest of the scene. A bistro in Paris, with the Eiffel tower in the background. If only I could step into a painting instead of my dreams. I let out a long sighed.

“You're blue.”

I jumped at the voice, but recognized it before I turned around, just by the sensation in my tummy.

“Pardon?”

Troy pointed to my face. “Blue.”

I swiped my forehead with the back of my hand. A streak of blue paint covered my knuckles. Great.

“Here.” Grabbing a towel, he leaned over to wipe it away. At first I wanted to move back, out of reach, but something inside me went still. Like that part of me wanted his touch.

Gently he wiped away the paint, then his eyes connected with mine. There was that frozen moment again, but before I could say something to cut the awkwardness, he kissed me. I mean full on, full contact kiss. His hands cupped my face. Immediately I leaned into it, and wrapped my arms around his neck. My blood coursed faster and faster until I thought I might collapse. But then he pulled away. Breathless, we both stayed there, staring at one another. I had no idea what to do, or say or think.

He dragged a hand through his hair. Did he regret his impulsiveness, or was he wishing like me, that he hadn't stopped.

“Sorry. But I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he said. “I stopped by to apologize for this morning. I had a rough start and I didn't mean to take it out on you. Consequence of punching someone, even when they had it coming.” His head dipped sheepishly.

I nodded, still unable to find my words for a beat. “Um. It’s okay. No big deal. We all have crap days.” I felt bad he was taking flack for hitting a guy because of me.

“Yeah. Well... I should go. Are you and Kenzie going to the Pit for dinner?”

I bit my lip—he really was pretty laid back about the rules. “She's got other plans.” I said, not wanting to bring up Steve in this moment. “I'm dining solo in my cabin.”

“Not anymore. Come to my place. I'll make you dinner.”

I almost laughed. “You cook?”

“I can, yes. You doubt my culinary skills?”

“No, it’s just, you don’t look like the cooking type.”

He arched one brow. “Really. What type do I look like?”

Hiding my smirk, I shrugged one shoulder. “The pick up the phone to call his personal chef kind.”

He folded his arms. “Well Miss Dultry, I take that as a challenge. Say yes, and I guarantee you will love what I prepare for you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I will cook dinner for you every weekend for the rest of the summer until you do fall in love... With my cooking,” he added.

My heart skipped. The strings were growing longer by the minute. For once I didn’t mind. I took a deep breath. “Yes. You’re on. But just so you know, I’m a very picky eater.”

He moved in closer, until his lips brushed against my ear sending shivers down my spine. “Nora, I know more about what you like than you might think.”

***

An hour and something later, we sat down to eat an amazing meal. Stuffed chicken breast, flambéed, over a tower of grilled veggies, and drizzled with a creamy sauce.

I surveyed the pristine white dishes, polished silver and gorgeous food, which smelled as delicious as it looked. “Okay, so this was not what I was expecting.”

His eyes smiled. “Why? Didn’t believe I could cook?” He untied the white apron and tossed it onto the counter. It had ‘Kiss The Cook’ written across the front, and I was more than willing to comply.

“I believed you, but I figured it would involve opening a can of something to pull it off. This,” I waved my hand over the artfully assembled dinner plate, “is a work of art.”

“Well good. I hope you’re eating your words sooner rather than later.”

“So you can get out of cooking for me every weekend all summer long.” I nodded. The idea alone made my mouth water, and not because of the food.

I took a bite, and erupted in a chorus of mmmm’s that rivaled Meg Ryan’s fake orgasm.

“Aren’t you going to eat,” I finally said after swallowing a third mouthful.

He leaned back in his chair, watching me. “Not that hungry. And this is so much better than eating.” He said.

I smiled and took another bite. Then I coughed. And coughed again. My eyes widened, as I scanned the plate and looked up at him. My mouth started to burn and my throat swelled. “What’s in this?” I gasped.

Troy’s smile faded, as he leapt to his feet and rushed to my side.

I gripped the edge of the table, gasping for breath that I couldn't pull in.

Panic lined his face. “It’s chicken. With pistachio gruyere cream. What’s wrong? Nora, you’re turning blue. Are you choking? What is it?”

“Allergic.” I gasped. “Pistachios.”