Seeing Red (10 page)

An odd feeling swept through her chest. She would have sworn it was hope.

“Hello?” the new customer called out and waved to her. He was an elderly gentleman with a sweet, kindly smile. “I need some help picking out a birthday gift for my wife.”

“Yes, of course.” She looked at Joe.

He let go of her wrist, then began to walk away. His long legs ate up the distance of the shop, then suddenly he stopped. Muttered to himself. Eyes fierce and hot, he strode back and nudged her around a wall partition. Actually, not so much nudged as shoved. “What—” she started, but he put both hands on her arms, hauled her up and kissed her.

When he pulled back, he was breathing hard. “Jesus.” He let go of her and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “You’re screwing with my head.”

Her own head was spinning, her body throbbing, and she stood there wobbling on her feet. “What was that?”

“I don’t know but it’s your fault.” He plowed his fingers in his hair, leaving it standing straight up. “You gave me that taste last night, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Excuse me?” The customer was apparently looking for her. “Miss?”

Summer’s knees wobbled through the sale. By the time she’d rung up the man’s purchase, Joe was busy interviewing Braden and Chloe, both of whom had been at the warehouse in the past month.

An interview with Summer wasn’t necessary, seeing as she hadn’t been in town at the time of the fire, and that she hadn’t been in or around the property for twelve solid years.

Unneeded. Unwanted…

When Joe and Kenny were done with their interviews, Joe came back into the main room and shot her one long look that seemed to scorch her from the inside out, leaving her achy and needy all over again.

“Meow,” Socks said from the counter.

“No kidding,” Summer murmured as Joe left without another word, needing a fan for her hot face.

Or a kiss.

S
ummer waited with bated breath for Joe to show up at her cottage that night. He didn’t.

Then she decided that waiting for him was ridiculous, and over the next few days dedicated herself to becoming part of her family again. She had dinner with her mother. Lunch with Tina. She dragged Chloe a quarter of the way up the mountain before Chloe cried uncle and begged off.

For Diana and Madeline, Summer lowered her expectations and took them into the wilds of the local mall, where they tried on five-hundred-dollar Nordstrom shoes for the fun of it and ate pizza at the food court.

She had another dinner with her mother, and had Camille laughing out loud at the story of Diana and Madeline arguing over a pair of heavenly velvet five-inch Manolos, of which neither could even afford the ankle buckle.

It felt wonderful.

As for Joe, he stayed away, and she knew why. He didn’t want to be tempted.

Inspiration in that regard struck her midweek. She drove downtown to the Fire Department, and the MAST offices. “It’s not the lunch special,” she said wryly when she found him at his desk looking tired, frustrated, and sexy as hell with his hair all wild and his sleeves shoved up to his elbows. “But you’ll like it.”

He caught the jumbo bag of potato chips in midair. Turning it over in his hands like a prized Christmas gift, he finally tossed it back to her. “I had to give up chips. Even those half-assed baked ones that taste like sandpaper.”

As he’d once practically lived off chips, she was shocked. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Joe’s gaze never left the bag in her hand. She’d have sworn he started to drool as he patted his now flat belly. “And believe me, it was a huge sacrifice—Damn it, don’t even think about opening—”

She ripped open the bag and came around his desk, wafting the bag beneath his nose.

“You are evil,” he said, gaze still locked on the bag.

“Finally my secret is out.”

“Oh my God.” He grabbed her arm to hold the bag beneath his nose and inhaled deeply. “Those even
smell
fattening. Stop. I’m begging you.”

“Okay, you’re right,” she murmured, wanting to kiss him at the look of tortured misery on his face. “I’m being cruel.” But before she could move away, he tightened his grip.

Holding her gaze, he tugged slowly, inexorably, until she stood between his sprawled legs. “Give. Me. The. Bag.”

“I don’t want to bring you to the dark side.”

“Too late.”

“I won’t be responsible for—”

“I have a gun,” he said. “And I know how to use it.”

She laughed.

He dove into the bag and came out with a fistful. At his first bite, he leaned back, closed his eyes and let out a throaty moan. Then his eyes whipped open. “You’ll leave these with me.”

She dropped the bag in his lap. “All yours, big boy.”

Munching, he smiled. It was his first, and it was contagious. “Thanks. You give great lunch special.”

“You should try my bedtime special sometime.”

“Oh, no. That would be waaaay too fattening for sure.” Playfully, he tugged at her hair. An old gesture.

And an entirely new meaning.

He was enjoying her company. Affection burst through her, and relief. But she didn’t want to push. She’d have to do this in layers with him, so she dipped into the bag for a few chips, then moved to the door. “Don’t work too hard.”

“Whoa there, Tiger. Hold up.”

Slowly, she turned back. His hair was still wild, his sleeves still shoved up, but he no longer looked so frustrated.

Still sexy though. Still
very
sexy.

“That’s it?” he asked. “You came just to corrupt me with food?”

“What else would you like?” she asked very softly.

He let out a low breath and pushed to his feet. Stopping a hairbreadth away, he shook his head. “Actually, I don’t have a clue.”

“That’s okay.” She smiled as her heart tightened just a little. “Maybe it’ll come to you.”

He stroked a finger over her jaw. “Maybe.”

She felt like turning her cheek into his touch. Or stepping closer to his body. She forced herself to remain still. “See ya,” she whispered.

His mouth quirked. His dimple made another appearance. “See ya.”

The official news came at the end of the week. In compliance with the fire department, the warehouse fire had been ruled an accident by the insurance company.

To celebrate, Summer took Camille to lunch at an old favorite, the Blues Café, where the music was excellent, the food more excellent, and it was impossible not to relax.

When they were done, Camille hugged Summer tight. There on the warm sidewalk with the scent of the ocean all around them and the welcoming feel of her mom’s arms around her, Summer thought this wasn’t a bad place to be at all.

“That was a lovely good-bye lunch,” Camille said when she pulled back. “Thank you.”

Summer blinked.
“Good-bye?”

“Well, we have a ruling now, right? The report is just a formality, and due any day.”

Ah, she got it. With the report, she was free to go. And she couldn’t wait. Really, she couldn’t. But her thoughts raced as they walked along the noisy, crowded sidewalk. Before they got in the car, she grabbed her mom’s hand. “Mom? I need to say something.”

Camille smiled softly. “I already know.”

“You do?”

“Yes. You love me.”

“Yes, I do, very much, but that’s not what I was going to say.” She sucked in a big breath. “I’m sorry I left the way I did all those years ago, that I wasn’t there for you…I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

Camille put a hand to her heart and shook her head. “I don’t want you to be sorry—”

“But I am. I’m so damned sorry, Mom.”

“Oh, Summer. Do you think I don’t see how hard you’re trying to love it here?” She hugged Summer again. “And I love it that it matters so much to you to be with me. But you’ve already given me nearly three weeks. I’m sure you’re dying to get out of here.”

“I have a few more days.”

“Honey.”

“No really. I’m taking a customer and a group of her friends on a day hike tomorrow.” And she was looking forward to it, she really was.

Camille smiled, though suddenly it seemed strained. “That’s lovely.” She cupped Summer’s face. “You know we’re going to be fine, you and me, when you go.”

But were they? Or would they revert back to not really knowing each other at all? “I just want you to understand why I’m leaving this time. That I’m not running anymore. That I’ll be back,
really
back.”

“I do.”

But was the knowing enough? Summer didn’t know that either.

Two nights later Summer was at the new Creative Interiors II, helping the last customer of the day before closing. It was her last time at the register.

She was leaving tomorrow morning.

She’d led a few hikes, she’d gone out kayaking with Chloe, and she actually almost wished she had more time to keep exploring her old haunts.

But tomorrow she’d drive to her small studio apartment in San Francisco. She had a plane ticket for two days from now, to Colorado, where she’d immerse herself in the river rafting season, and not think too much about what she’d left: her mom, her family.

Joe.

He’d come by earlier, with a copy of the fire report. He hadn’t said good-bye, and neither had she. And now she faced her last evening. Alone. She knew that everyone often hung out at Tooley’s Bar and Grill after work. Normally the bar scene was not her thing but tonight she thought she could use it. “What are you doing after work?” she asked Chloe.

Chloe’s grin said it all. “Guess.”

Summer’s gaze cut to the very gorgeous but very silent Braden on the other side of the shop, behind the counter, fingers clicking at the speed of light over his laptop keyboard. “He asked you out?”

“Does it matter who asked who?”

She thought of how she’d kissed Joe on the beach and had to admit that no, it didn’t matter who started the asking. “He’s so quiet. Do you two ever talk?”

“Maybe I’m not looking for talk.”

“Yeah.” There was something greatly unfair about Chloe getting lucky while she was not, despite her best efforts. “Maybe you could jump him another time.”

“Why?”

Because it’s my last night.
But Chloe already knew that, and Summer was getting tired of pushing herself on absolutely everyone. “No real reason.”

“Well, then, not a chance.”

“Right.” Out of sheer desperation, Summer approached Diana and Madeline. They were planning to go to some college party, and though they were actually pleasant—and Diana gave Summer a glowing horoscope for once—they didn’t invite her to come along as they vanished out the door smelling like forbidden cigarettes and trouble waiting to happen.

With no customers left, Chloe was chomping at the bit to go home and get ready for her hot date with Braden, so Summer gave up and shooed her off as well. As she did, Stella came through from the back with her purse. “I don’t see why you won’t let Gregg and me close up for you on your last night in town,” she said to Summer.

“That’s okay.” If she left now, her big evening alone would start even earlier. “I’ve got it covered.”

“All right.
Gregg!
” she yelled down the stairs to the employee break room. “He’s so particular about the routine,” she said to Summer. “He likes to make sure everything is closed up just right. You should have seen him when we had our own store.”

“You had a store?”

“Oh, yes. And it was beautiful,” Stella said with soft pride. “But then we—”

“You’re not boring Summer with our life story, are you, Stel?” Gregg asked as he came into the room. He hooked an arm around his wife and hugged her, then smiled at Summer. “See ya on the next trip home, Cookie. A couple of years maybe?”

“Not so long this time.”

“Okay.”

“Really, it won’t be.” She managed to keep her smile in place until they left. Alone now, she sighed, then flipped the
CLOSED
sign on the door, moving through the store, turning off lights, straightening up things here and there. She had the radio on and was humming to Coldplay, thinking she should probably put on something more upbeat than the beautiful, lyrical songs that made her ache, when from behind her, a door creaked. Whipping around with a surprised gasp, Summer watched as the small bathroom door just behind the counter slowly opened. With a hand on her racing heart, she stared at Braden. “I thought you were already gone.”

“I am.” Dressed in his usual black from sleek stud in his ear to his ass-kicking boots, he walked toward the front door.

“What were you doing in there?”

He shot her a bland look over his shoulder.

“Right.” But her heart still hadn’t slowed. “You going out with Chloe tonight?”

He sent her another baleful glance.

“Let me guess. None of my business.”

“You’re quick.” He reached for the door.

“It’s just that I’m sort of fond of the spoiled brat,” she said. “So be kind, okay?”

When he looked at her again, surprised, she smiled at him. He offered her a half smile in return, more than she’d ever seen out of him, and shook his head. “Don’t stay long,” he said.

“Why not?”

“It’s your last night.”

Right. And she had so many other options open to her.

When he was gone, Summer continued closing up. Tina had a thing for candles, and there were some burning throughout the shop for ambiance. She blew out each of the votives as she went, then hesitated because the dark seemed so complete.

Odd, because when she was out on a camping trip, in charge of the trek, with no city lights around for miles and miles, she was never afraid of the dark.

But here, now, alone in the store with most of the lights off, she felt jumpy. Out of sorts. Maybe because this was her last time alone in the shop for a good long while. In a few days she’d be taking a group of twelve down the Colorado River, where teapots and end tables and lamps would be a distant memory.

She moved into the back of the store to shut off those lights as well. There was another door here that led downstairs to a small room they used for employee breaks. Gregg had left it open and the light on, which made her frown. So much for routine.

She stared down the long, deep,
dark
steps. She really wasn’t afraid of much, but dark, tight places and spiders topped the list. Still, this had to be done. She had to go down there and turn them off. “Just do it,” she said out loud, as if that would help.

The stairs creaked as she slowly made her way down. So did a beam overhead. She nearly jumped out of her skin, and then laughed at herself. “Scaredy-cat.”

The little TV and stereo were off. The table was cleared and clean. But what really caught her attention was the huge beanbag chair. She’d once had one just like it, it’d sat in her room at the house she’d grown up in. Many mornings she’d woken up to find Joe asleep in it.

She toed the thing, decided it was as comfortable as the original, and sank onto it. Leaning back, she studied the TV. She couldn’t reach the remote, and didn’t feel like moving. She hadn’t realized how tired she was, and let her eyes drift shut.

She thought about what she’d done here, trying to find herself. Find her way back to the ties she’d once had. Had she made progress? She wasn’t sure. The old Summer would have packed it up days ago, hell
weeks
ago, but, she’d lingered because that’s not who she wanted to be.

And yet she didn’t have a clear picture of who she
did
want to be…

She jerked awake, confused, not sure how long she’d been out. A sharp, putrid scent penetrated her brain.

Smoke.

She choked on the thick, clinging cloud of it and could hardly see. No.
No, this wasn’t happening.

Coughing, she pulled her shirt up over her mouth. The smoke had settled over her like a blanket, smothering. She had to get out. She knew that much. Staggering upright, she flew up the stairs, or tried to, but her feet wouldn’t seem to cooperate. Confused, she felt like she moved in slow motion, everything fuzzy and gray so that suddenly she wasn’t sure if this was real, or if she was simply reliving an old nightmare.