Authors: Marie Carnay
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Holidays, #Military, #New Adult & College, #Contemporary Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense
“I can’t believe you didn’t think this would happen.”
Summer frowned. “Of course I didn’t think it would happen. It’s been four years! They should have girlfriends. Be married with like eight kids or something!”
Mandy shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“Maybe it’s not just you who’s hung up on the past.”
What?
“Don’t be ridiculous.” There was no way Blake and Devin were single because of her and one night all those years ago.
“Think about it. As soon as they saw you, it was like time stood still. You all were back right where you started, weren’t you?”
She thought back to walking in on them. How her heart sped up and Blake saw right through her. “I just don’t get it. I’m nothing special. Look at me.” She glanced down at her wrinkled green dress and bare feet.
Summer’d always been on the bigger side—breasts by twelve and hips by fourteen. When she was younger, she’d hated her figure. Girls like Ian’s girlfriend Ivy calling her chubby and fat and a million other things. The only good thing about New York was that she disappeared. One of millions, she could walk down the street in a sack and no one would bat an eye.
But in Midnight Cove? Where celebrities and their entourage came to vacation? Blake and Devin could have their pick of any number of blonde bombshells. A million Ivy McClellans parading down Main. Bopping into their shop. Asking for personal surf lessons. Summer couldn’t compete with that.
Mandy set down her coffee in a huff. “Stop it. Right now. You are gorgeous. You have been the whole time I’ve known you. And from the way you told it, Blake and Devin couldn’t agree more.”
She glanced out the window and tried to focus. The waves crashed onto the rocks and the wind sent sprays of water out in all directions. Salty bursts of foam disintegrated in midair.
The lighthouse perched on the edge of an outcrop, and from their view on the side of the road, it was all sparkling water and sandy shore. Midnight Cove hadn’t changed a bit since that summer.
Had she changed? Had Blake and Devin? People didn’t hang on for four years, did they? She turned back to Mandy. “Are you saying they waited for me? That there hasn’t been anyone else?”
Mandy bit her lip. “It’s been a long time, Summer.”
Summer’s face fell. “So the answer’s no?”
“I—well—Let’s just say, nothing’s ever lasted, okay?”
Summer nodded.
“Besides, people do crazy things when they’re sad.”
Summer cocked her head. “Did something happen?”
Mandy looked past her to the ocean and smiled. “How about you tell me about the gallery exhibit. You said it’s a major show, right? Palladium? That sounds so fancy.”
Summer nodded. “It is a major show. My first one. And my mother had nothing to do with it. It’s not one of the big galleries, but the owner likes my work. They usually do New York stuff, you know—a blurred painting of the Brooklyn Bridge, something like that. But they liked my landscapes. The show’s next week.”
“Oh, Sum. That’s great.” Mandy reached out and gave her arm a squeeze. “It sounds like all that hard work is paying off.”
“Thanks.” Summer just wished she felt better about the whole thing. A gallery in New York. Everything she’d worked and sacrificed to accomplish. But now it seemed so bittersweet. “I wish it weren’t so far away.”
“Me too.” Mandy’s eyes brightened. “But I’ll be out there to visit soon. I can’t stay here all alone, some restaurant widow while Richard gallivants all over Seattle.”
“Right.” Summer wasn’t about to tell the bride-to-be that it wasn’t her she was talking about. Not then, at least. “Come on, let’s head to the Inn. If we’re going to the spa, I’ve got to change.”
* * *
BLAKE
Blake rolled over onto his back in the hazy morning light.
Summer
. When he heard she’d be coming for Mandy’s wedding, he’d hoped. Let himself wish. But never in a million years did he think they’d all end up in bed.
Right back where they left off. Like she’d never left. Fours years of mistakes and regret and what could have been. Erased. He ran his tongue over his lips. He could still taste her.
“Wake up, man. She’s gone.”
“What?” Blake scrubbed his face as a ray of sunlight landed smack on his one open eye.
Damn it.
“What are you talking about?”
“Summer. She’s gone. Must have bolted in the middle of the night.”
Fuck
. Blake swung his legs off the bed and his feet hit the tile with a smack. Devin stalked in front of the open windows like a caged tiger. Hunched shoulders, wild hair. Unhinged and dangerous.
“Did she leave a note? A text? Anything?”
Devin paused. “If she had, I wouldn’t be about to punch the wall in, would I?”
Blake frowned. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of how it all ended. The best sex of his life with a woman who used to be his best friend. All for her to disappear into the ether the morning after.
He scratched his beard and tried to focus. “There must be some explanation. She wouldn’t cut and run. Not again.”
Devin opened another blind and stomped over to his dresser. “Why not? That seems to be her MO. String us along, get our hopes up, ditch us.”
Blake stood and hunted down his discarded clothes. He slipped on his boxers and balled the rest up under his arm. “You don’t know that. Maybe she had an emergency. Maybe Mandy called, said she needed some help. Summer is the maid of honor.”
“Then she’d have left a note. Texted. Something. Not just poofed into thin air. I swear, if I hadn’t woken up to you snoring, I’d be convinced I dreamt the whole thing.”
“But you didn’t. She was here. And better than ever. There’s got to be a reason she left.”
Devin pulled out a pair of boxers and shorts and tugged them on one after the other. “What if the reason’s us?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if she doesn’t want this? Can’t handle it? If she’d wanted to give it try—more than just a sweaty memory fuck—she’d have stayed.”
Devin shoved his drawer shut and pulled open another. Blake hadn’t seen him so worked up in years. Not since Ivy.
He leaned on the wall and waited for his best friend to cool down. They needed level heads. Not anger and fear.
“I think we need to give her some time. We’ll see her tomorrow at the wedding. We can ask her then.”
“It’s not worth it.” Devin’s confession came out thick and laced with emotion.
Blake pushed off the wall. “What are you talking about? Yesterday you were Mr. Optimist. So fucking cocky, Dev. Convinced we could win her back.”
His best friend snorted.
“What changed?”
Devin gripped the front of the drawer and the muscles on his back bunched into knots. “Nothing. That’s the problem.”
Blake exhaled in a rush. No way were they letting the weekend go to shit like this. Not after the night they shared. Summer was back and Blake wasn’t letting her go. Not without a fight.
“Can you open the shop without me?”
Devin turned around. “Yeah, why?”
“If she’s going to bolt, I want to know why. And I can count all the places she’ll be this morning on one hand.”
“Let me know what you find out.”
“First thing.” Blake turned toward the hall.
“And Blake?”
“Yeah?”
“Try and win her back.”
* * *
The door swung open and Blake stepped out into the bright morning sun. Salt water on the breeze. A man jogging by on an early run. The perfect day in Midnight Cove. If only he had Summer by his side.
Damn her.
The more he thought about her running away, the more irritated he became. Leaving while he and Devin slept. No note, no message. Nothing. Just like last time. He balled his hand into a fist.
Only this time she had to stay in town. She was walking down the aisle the next day. Maid of honor in her best friend’s wedding. Not even Summer would shirk that responsibility.
He beeped the locks on his car and headed toward the black coupe when a beach cruiser swerved into the lot. Sirens wailing, lights flashing, it whipped into a parking spot and screeched to a halt.
Shit
.
Blake inhaled and braced himself.
A six-foot-five barrel-chested man with a scowl bounded toward him with springs for feet.
He stopped inches away from Blake and pointed at the ocean. “Tell me that is some practical joke. Tell me that by the time I get back there, the place will be filled with cameras, an announcer for some stupid TV show, and a gotcha theme song.”
Blake stepped back. He knew the man would be pissed. But furious? They’d all underestimated him. “Hey, Brad.”
“Don’t
Hey Brad
, me. I know this was you. Did Devin put you up to it?”
Blake stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you do. Toilet paper. A whole case of it. All over the lifeguard station. Just like old times, huh?”
Blake bit back a grin.
You have no idea.
“I can wake up Devin. See if he knows anything about it.”
Brad’s brown eyes burned. “Cut the crap, Turner. I talked to the gas station attendant. He said you and Devin and some hot chick were all in there goofing off like teenagers.”
Fuck
. Blake blew out his breath and played the part. “So he saw us first hand, huh? What, did he leave the store and follow us? Spy on us with some cheap surveillance camera?”
Brad frowned. “He didn’t have to. I know it was you.”
Blake sighed and glanced up at the blue sky. Yanking Brad’s chain would only delay the bar. While he wasn’t thrilled with converting their upstairs into an all-night party spot, Devin had a point. They couldn’t just leave it empty. Waiting.
He met Brad’s ire head on. “How about we send someone down there to clean it up? Would that make you happy?”
Brad’s eyes bulged. “So you admit it!”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just trying to help you out.”
“Right. Like either one of you would ever go out of your way for me. If anything, you’d do exactly the opposite.”
Blake blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“I know how it works around here. You check the surf before anyone’s around. If it’s good, you open early before the lifeguards are on the beach. Before we’ve put up the flag. That puts people at risk, Blake. You know it.”
Blake scoffed. “It does no such thing. I’ve lived here my whole life, Brad. I know the surf better than anyone. So does Devin.”
“You aren’t lifeguards.”
“Not anymore. But you don’t forget that kind of training.”
Brad crossed his arms. Thick veiny ropes of muscle stood out in stark relief against his black wetsuit. “This isn’t how you get a permit, Turner.”
What the fuck?
Blake had tried to be reasonable. Tried to play the nice guy. But if Brad Hooper was going to threaten him over some stupid toilet paper…He pulled his hands out of his pockets and stepped forward.
Brad might think he had the upper hand, but Blake could hold his own. Dish it out too. He cracked his knuckles. “Are you threatening me?”
“No. Stating the facts. I’m the one who grants the permits. I’m the one who does the inspections. And right now? I’m all booked up.”
Blake bit the inside of his cheek to keep from ripping Brad a new one. The man had a massive superiority complex.
Damn it to hell.
He hated to back down. To let Brad think he had a leg up? Disgusting. But it was the easiest way. If he decked him—like every muscle in his body begged him to do—he’d be hauled off to jail.
Bye-bye wedding, reception, Summer. The whole weekend up in smoke. And the bar along with it. He huffed in surrender. “What if the lifeguard station was all cleaned up? Would you suddenly have an opening?”
Brad raised an eyebrow. “How suddenly?”
“Within the hour?”
Brad backed up and beeped open the cruiser. “You do that, Turner. An hour. If it’s cleaned up, you can have your inspection.”
Blake nodded as Brad hopped up into the truck and revved the engine.
Asshole
. Instead of tracking Summer down and figuring out what the hell was going on, now he’d have to deal with the lifeguard station.
Damn Devin and his crazy ideas. But it had loosened them all up. Freed Summer to open up to them. Share her thoughts. Bare her soul. And that body.
God
.
Blake adjusted himself and glanced back at the shop. They couldn’t leave it empty. Not on a day with the wind hitting just right. He looked up at the second floor. Maybe he’d just have to call in a favor.
As he jogged over to his car, he fished out his phone. “Ian? Hey, sorry to wake you up, man, but I need a favor.”
SUMMER
S
TRONG
FINGERS
DUG
into Summer’s shoulders and a soft Swedish accent hit her ear. “You need to relax. Let the tension go. Right here,” the masseuse dug in with her thumb, “is a ball of knots.”
Summer’s words came out muffled from beneath the table. “I’ve got a lot going on.”
“Well. There’s no amount of rubbing I can do to work this out.”
As soon as Summer shook hands with Alice, she knew the woman had major skills. Her grip could have turned coal into a diamond. Add in sturdy legs and muscled shoulders and there was no doubt. If this goddess of massages couldn’t work out her tension, then Summer was in way over her head.