Seeing Red (9 page)

T
ake me home, Joe,” Summer whispered, and stroked her hands up his back.

Taking her home would be bad, Joe thought.
Very
bad. But she kept touching him and suddenly he couldn’t remember
why.

Because she’s leaving.

Because she’ll hurt you.

Oh yeah, now he remembered. Turning to face her, he encircled her wrists with his hands.

She merely leaned into his chest, their hands squished between them, and looked at his mouth.

A low, rough groan tore from deep in his throat.

Reaching up, she kissed his jaw.

He hissed out a harsh breath and tugged her hands behind her back, pinned low on her spine. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but that meant she was helpless, pressed against him. He could feel her breasts, her belly, the outline of her thighs, and before he could pull away she arched into his hard-on with a little hum of pleasure.

And just like that, he was a goner. Dipping his head, he did what once had been his greatest fantasy. He covered her mouth with his and dove headfirst into a kiss that rocked his world, curled his toes, and drained the blood right out of his head.

When they had to break apart or suffocate, he stared at her, unable to catch his breath. Had he thought her helpless? She smiled up against him, her mouth still wet from his, with so much promise in her eyes he would have followed her to the damn moon, which meant
he
was the helpless one here.
Send out a life vest, he was going down.
He let go of her but she merely slid her arms around his neck and nibbled at his throat. When he groaned again, she sank her fingers into his hair, changed the angle of his head to suit her, and took his mouth.

Damn it, he was
not
going to do this, but then she murmured to him, stroking him with her hands, her tongue, her body, and he began to drown after all.
“Red.”

“You’re shaking,” she said with surprise.

“I know.” He was the biggest fool on the planet, a fool who
had
to touch her. He ran a fingertip over her jaw, down her throat. Over her collarbone.

“Kiss me again,” she whispered, and outlined his lower lip with her tongue.

That was all it took. Some big, bad, tough guy he was. He sank into what she offered, giving it back, until they were
both
shaking. His hands and mouth couldn’t get enough of her.

“Mmm.” Eyes closed, she let out a long, catchy sigh. She had her hands beneath his shirt, touching skin to skin. “You kiss so amazing. Where did you learn to kiss like that?”

His fingers dug into her hips, squeezing. He didn’t want to talk, he wanted—

She sank her teeth into his lower lip and tugged. His knees nearly buckled and the next kiss lasted even longer. The urge to drag her down to the sand shocked him back into awareness. He was breathing like a lunatic, and had one hand gripping her ass, the other cupping her breast. Even as his senses began to clear, his thumb stroked over the hardened tip of her nipple, once, twice.

She gasped and her head fell back, exposing the beautiful, tempting line of her throat. He leaned in to taste her there and she let out a sexy little moan. “See how easy it is to forget all your troubles?” she gasped.

His mouth open on her, he went still. He’d been about to inhale her whole, but he closed his lips and set his forehead to hers. Forget his troubles? She
was
his troubles!

“Home.” She kissed one corner of his mouth, then the other. “Take me home, Joe.”

Incredibly bad idea, but they moved in silence along the soft, giving sand, with the waves occasionally sloshing over their feet as they went, thankfully not running this time, and when he stopped at the sleek black classic Camaro parked near Creative Interiors II, she laughed. “This used to be your fantasy car! When did you get it?”

He shrugged off the vague embarrassment. “A few years back.”

“You ever make out in it?”

“Red.”

She laughed at the look on his face. “Well, I hope you have. That’s why you always wanted it, remember?”

“I wanted it,” he corrected, having to laugh at her, at himself, “because of the power of the beast.”

“Ah, yes, the size of the engine.” Her eyes flashed warm and affectionate. “What is it with men and the size of their…toys?”

“Ha-ha. Just get in.”

She put her hand over his and tried to take his keys.

“Hell, no,” he said.

“Come on.”

“Do you think I’ve forgotten who taught you to drive, and that you suck at it?”

“I’ll have you know I no longer plow into mailboxes.”

He lifted the keys up over his head. She was tall, but not quite tall enough, and he decided he was a sick, sick man to enjoy how she tried to climb up his body to get the keys. “You had two glasses of champagne.”

“Far too long ago,” she replied.

“Maybe next time,” he said, knowing there wouldn’t be one because he was going to get smart and stay far away from her. Any minute now. He waited until she buckled up before he hit the gas. The car leapt to life, and she whooped with glee as they took off.

She’d always been able to do that, find the joy in the moment. He’d never been nearly as good at it, but he felt a surge of joy now, for no reason other than the car was running like a sweet thing, the wind blew fresh sea air in his face, and…and Summer was smiling at him.

She’d kissed him. He’d kissed her. Amazing, she’d murmured, and he had to agree. He felt her glance at him, but pretended not to notice, pretended not to be hard as a rock as well, wondering what the hell he’d been thinking to be taking her home. She was bad for him, bad for his mental health.

He was absolutely not going inside her place. No way. Maybe he should chain himself to the seat just in case he forgot that fact.

She gave him directions and he pulled onto a street lined with small, narrow cottages sitting on the bluffs above the ocean. “Why aren’t you staying with your mom?”

“I did that first night, but Chloe’s friend was staying here, and she left for Maine for the summer, and I thought I might enjoy the location…” She trailed off with a lift of one shoulder.

“And…”

“And what?”

“And the real reason you’re staying here instead of with your mom?”

“I don’t know.” Her gaze skittered away. “I think my family’s just waiting for me to leave.”

“Maybe because you have a history of doing exactly that.”

“But not this time.”

“They’ll come around.” When he turned off the engine the night was quiet and dark, and they might have been alone in the world. He gripped the steering wheel as if it were his lifeline, anchoring him to a reality that was slowing slipping away.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Wasn’t going to do anything.

“Come inside.”

Yes.
Yes.
“No.”

“Why not?”

Her hair glimmered in the night. Her eyes were bright and clear and full of the things they could be doing to each other. She’d pulled her legs beneath her but he could still remember how perfectly long and smooth and tanned they were, and at the thought of how they’d feel wrapped around him, he nearly drooled like a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal. He held on to the steering wheel for all he was worth. “Because.”

“Good reason.”

“Okay, how about because you’re feeling vulnerable, and so am I.”

“Because of Cindy?”

“Not because of Cindy, no.”

“Because of the fire?”

Because of you.
“Look, it’s been a long night all around. A rough one.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and when he dropped it, she had sympathy and compassion welling in her eyes and he had to close his. “It’d be better if you stopped looking at me.”

“Better for who?”

“For me.”

She didn’t stop looking at him.

“You should go in,” he said a little desperately.

“It’s such a beautiful night.” She leaned back, tipping her face up to the night sky, apparently in no hurry to go anywhere. The white sundress glowed in the night air, her expression open and caring. “We could just talk.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Maybe a bag over her head would help.

“We used to talk for hours,” she said. “Remember?”

Yeah, he remembered. He remembered lying with her in the warehouse eating, laughing. Being. But he wasn’t that kid anymore.

“Did you go to San Diego State on your scholarship as planned?”

“Red—”

“Play along, Joe. Talk to me. Unload.”

“Why?”

She laughed. “Such a guy. Come on, it won’t hurt.”

He sighed. “Yes, I went to State.”

“Did you love it?”

He shrugged. “I worked a lot. Studied a lot. It’s all a blur now.” He sighed into her expectant face. “Yeah, I loved it.”

“Now you,” she said.

“Now I what?”

“Now you ask
me
a question.”

Do you really use orgasms as a stress relief?
“Were you happy out there, doing your thing?”

She smiled. “I was.” The smile slowly faded. “And I figured I could be that happy here, too, but I can’t seem to quite manage it. I think it’s because all those years ago, I left wrong. It’s like I have to fix that before I can go on.” She met his gaze. “I was young and stupid to leave here the way I did. I honestly didn’t realize what I had, with my mom, with you. That relationship of ours…the truth is, I’ve never been able to replicate it.”

Going there was a bad idea. “Red—”

“I hate that I hurt you, Joe.” She put her hand on his. “Come inside with me. Please? Let me make it up to you.”

Her soft, sensuous voice slid right through him, cut down his defenses as effectively as her sad smile did. “Why?” he asked. “Because we’re both lonely?”

“Yes, because we’re both lonely. A good orgasm banishes loneliness, I promise you.”

“How about pain? Does a good orgasm banish pain too?”

Her eyes lit, and her soft laugh echoed around him. “Absolutely.”

Good Lord, the woman looked like sin personified. He wanted her so badly his jeans were cutting off circulation to some critical parts, but she’d been right. He had learned quite a bit about control over the years. Slowly, with great effort, he sat back until the door handle cut into his spine. “I’m not going to be the scratch to your itch, Red.”

“You’re not?”

“And I most definitely don’t want to be your pity fuck.”

“Your pity—” Her eyes flashed. “Maybe I just wanted to be with someone tonight.”

“I’m not that someone. I can’t be.”

“Because it’s me and I once hurt you?”

“Because it’s you and I can’t seem to keep the distance you require.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “Let me make sure I understand. You
do
want me.”

Only more than my next breath.
“Yes.”

“But you’re afraid it won’t be just sex? Honestly, Joe, that’s just…” She lifted her hands helplessly.

“Yeah,” he said grimly. “Words fail, don’t they?” With more strength than he knew he had, he got out of the car, moved around to the passenger door and opened it for her. She brushed past him, then turned back. “It doesn’t have to end like this tonight.”

“But what about tomorrow night? Or the night after that?”

“Just so happens I’m free those nights too,” she said.

She was going to kill him. “Red.”

“Right.” She stepped back. “You’re not.”

“Not for this. I’m sorry.”

“No. No, that’s okay.”

Calling himself a fool, he leaned back against his car, folded his arms over his chest and waited for her to get inside.

Halfway to her door, she glanced back. “You’re going to be in your bed tonight, cursing yourself for being alone when you could have been with me.”

“That is the absolute truth.”

She just stared at him for a long beat, then unlocked and opened the front door. She turned the light on inside, illuminating herself like a fish in a fishbowl.

He drank her up, all those long limbs and shiny hair. She leaned back against the doorjamb, imitating his stance.

A face-off. He wouldn’t go anywhere until she was inside, but she didn’t seem to be in any hurry. “Lock the door,” he said, hoping she would before he forgot himself and went after her.

Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “Sweet dreams.”

“I doubt they’ll be sweet.”

“That’s your own fault. I hope you’re aching and yearning and in need of a cold shower.”

“Should I wish you sweet dreams back, Summer?”

She shut the door on that.

Her light went off.

He let out a slow breath, not sure whether he hated her, or still loved her.

S
ummer slept restlessly. She got up before the crack of dawn and grabbed her hiking gear. There was an early staff meeting at Creative Interiors II, right before the big opening day, but she still had several hours before that, so she drove northeast to Palomar to hike among the towering conifers and oaks.

When she’d finished, she felt better equipped for the day, and smiled as she showered and changed before heading to the new shop. She had the VW’s windows down so that the gorgeous morning could show off its bright sunshine and already warm breeze. She breathed it all in and promised herself another long hike tomorrow.

She pulled into the parking lot of the store at the same time as Chloe. Her cousin got out of her car and looked Summer up and down. “Where did you run off to last night?”

Summer looked right back. Chloe’s green-tipped hair shimmered in the morning light, matching her eye-popping green miniskirt and tank top. “You look like a lucky charm.”

“Nice subject change. What happened, you get hot monkey sex?”

“Hot monkey sex?” Summer laughed. “Who gets hot monkey sex?”

Chloe put her hands on her hips. “Did you or did you not do it with your fire marshal?”

“Since when is he
my
fire marshal?”

“Do you ever answer a damn question?”

“No. But I didn’t get hot monkey sex.” But she’d wanted to. God, she’d wanted to. One touch of Joe’s yummy mouth to hers and she’d nearly imploded. He’d been hard and sexy, and she loved how his wary eyes softened when he kissed. He put everything into it, too, knowing when to linger, when to go slow, how to drive her crazy with just a nuzzle of that mouth and a touch of his tongue. “We’re just old friends,” she said. “You know that.”

“He’s a hottie. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“He’s changed a lot.” And she still couldn’t believe he’d let her walk away last night. A rejection, and damn, that had hurt. It’d been a long time since a man had turned her down. Actually, a man had never turned her down. Joe was her first. The thought made her feel melancholy, and she eyed the bakery across the street. “The doughnuts smell good.”

“You don’t eat doughnuts.”

She did if she was stressed enough.

“You know how the moms feel about junk food,” Chloe said.

“Are you telling me you never have junk?”

“I’m telling you I do what every self-respecting daughter of a health nut does. I sneak them. So if you’re going, I’ll take an old-fashioned glazed. Two.” She smoothed down her short, short skirt. “I’m going in to see if I can catch Braden’s attention.”

Summer eyed Chloe’s wild outfit before she headed across the street. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

When she got back a few minutes later, Bill was in the lot, buried under the hood of Tina’s car.

“The woman never checks her oil,” he said with exasperation. He wore baggy painter pants, splattered with clay from the last decade, and a Dead Head T-shirt.

“Doughnut?” Summer opened the box.

“Aren’t these against Tina’s and Camille’s code of food ethics?”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“You know they can smell this sort of thing from a mile away, right? I got caught with McDonald’s once and Tina was mad at me for a week.”

“Well, if you’re not interested…”

“Hey, I never said I wasn’t interested.” He grinned and took a jelly-filled.

“You doing ceramics today?” she asked.

“For a bit. Then I’ve got stuff to do.”

He often had “stuff to do,” which was code for picking horses at Del Mar, or playing cards at one of two local gaming houses. He and Tina actually met at one of them, though they no longer played together. This was because Tina mostly lost, and Bill didn’t. Tina would come by and pull from his winnings, which was the only thing that ever made his temper surface. Tina thought it was funny; the man had helped her raise her three girls without a rise in his blood pressure, but she couldn’t mess with his winnings until he got up from the gaming table, or he’d lose it.

“You’re going to want to hurry,” he said, with a nod of his chin toward inside. “Staff meeting’s going to start before they split up to handle both stores.”

Summer looked at the new building. It seemed so big and roomy in the light of day, and she couldn’t figure out what had panicked her so much last night. “What’s the mood like?”

“Excited. Tense too.”

“Wish me luck.” She went inside and opened the box of doughnuts on the employee table. Everyone promptly ditched Camille’s offering of herbal iced tea and dove into the box to grab their favorite sugar rush.

Camille refrained from the box with a worried little frown as Socks wound through her legs, purring loudly. “Too much sugar in the morning isn’t good for—” She sighed when everyone practically inhaled theirs. “Well. Okay, fine. Kill your arteries.”

Summer surreptitiously wiped the sugar off her fingers.

Camille noticed anyway, and just rolled her eyes. “As I was saying, make sure you all familiarize yourself with the new stock. We’ve just received quite an impressive shipment from Tina and Bill’s spring shopping trips, so that will help with what we lost at the warehouse. More stock is stuffed in every corner of the storage rooms of each of the two stores, in my house, and also Tina’s, so if people are looking for something specific, make sure you check the list.”

Diana was pretending to take notes but was really reading a manila file-covered
Cosmo.
Madeline was making little smiley faces on a pad of paper, completely lost to the group. Stella and Gregg sat together, silent but attentive.

“Call Braden to verify a product hasn’t been sold,” Camille continued. “Or to get a price.”

Braden hoisted his laptop. His eyes were dark and unreadable as he looked around with a cool, brooding calm.

Chloe was staring at him dreamily as she stuffed herself with an old-fashioned chocolate glaze. “He’s hot,” she mouthed to Summer.

That happened to be true, but Summer was thinking hot wouldn’t necessarily feed the soul. And since when had she ever cared about feeding the soul—she had no idea.

When the meeting was over, Stella, Gregg, and the twins moved toward the door to get themselves downtown to the original Creative Interiors, but Camille stopped them. “I should mention, the fire marshals’ll be stopping by both shops today for any final questions they have for their report. Please cooperate with them fully.”

Chloe turned to Summer and raised a suggestive brow.

Summer ignored her but had two conflicting emotions barrel through her at the news she’d be seeing Joe today. Anticipation and trepidation.

But mostly anticipation.

Madeline scooted close and showed them Diana’s magazine, opened to the horoscope page. She pointed to Chloe’s, and read, “Your moons are lined up.”

“So full speed ahead,” Diana said to her older sister.

Chloe snagged the magazine and greedily soaked up her horoscope. “What does Summer’s say?”

“That she shouldn’t have gotten out of bed,” Diana read.

Summer sighed but she couldn’t work up any real irritation because she was still stuck on having to see Joe today. She needed more time to process the embarrassment of his rejection, and to distance herself from the fact that Chloe had been wrong—she wasn’t so irresistible after all.

Damn, he’d wanted her. She’d tasted that want, she’d felt it. And still, he’d walked away.

As she’d once done to him.

Well, damn it, she hoped they were even now.

She caught up with her mom behind the counter. “Where do you want me to work today?”

“Oh.” Camille looked around. In her long, flowing flowery sundress and natural makeup, she looked serene and elegant. Socks meowed at her feet and got scooped up, making him look quite pleased with himself. “You know you don’t have to,” Camille said.

“I want to.”

“You
want
to deal with beach cushions and pictures and lighthouses and grumpy toddlers and bossy shoppers, oh my?”

Teasing sarcasm. The gesture felt like a hug, and Summer grinned. “You know it.”

“It’s going to be too tame for you.”

Maybe she was ready for a little tame, ready to belong here. She reached for her mom’s hand and squeezed it with hers twice. In the old days that had been their code for “love you.” In keeping with the code, Camille would squeeze back three times, meaning “love you too.”

With a distracted smile, Camille squeezed back. One squeeze.

What the hell did that mean?

Camille hesitated and then said, “Honey, I’m grateful you’re here, but I just don’t think you should force yourself to stay. That’s all.”

“I’m not. I want to do this. I want to be with you.”

Camille looked down at their joined hands. “You haven’t always.”

The words sat in the air like two thick, black storm clouds for a beat before Camille shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do this now. I…need some more tea.”

“Is that what you think?” Summer asked hoarsely, having to follow her mom back to the small employee back room. She couldn’t believe it. “That I don’t want to be with you?”

“I’m sorry.” Camille said again and closed her eyes, a trick Summer recognized all too well as she did the same when she felt the most. “I know being here is getting to you.”

“Mom.” She let out a mirthless laugh. “We’ve got to stop tiptoeing around this. Around everything. Let’s just say what we feel, okay? Yes, it’s hard to be here, but I want to stay.”
Now you,
she thought.
Now you tell me you want me to stay too.

“Camille!” Tina poked her head in, waved her sister over. “This you have to see.”

“What is it?”

“Guess who just executed a slow drive-by to put her nose into our opening day business?”

“Not Ally,” Camille said, shocked.

“I swear it’s her, wearing a big straw hat and dark glasses, the sneaky bitch.”

“I’ll be right there.” Camille looked at Summer.

“Honey, I’m glad you’re here, so glad. But it’s been so long since we’ve done this, spent time…I want to give you want you need, but quite frankly, I’m not sure what that is.”

“You. My mom. My family.”

Camille smiled, but it seemed shaky. “Well that’s easy enough then, since that’s what I am.” Leaning in, she kissed Summer on the cheek, then left.

Summer looked at Socks. “So what do you think of this mess?”

“Mew.”

“Yeah.” Camille’s hesitation made sense. Summer
had
run. Only once, but she’d kept going, and though she’d been back over the years, she’d never really put her heart into it. Which meant it wasn’t just Camille’s fault that they weren’t close, or any of them for that matter.

Summer’d had a hand in this, in driving the wedge between herself and her mother.

If only it was as easy to undo.

A large crowd showed up for the official opening of Creative Interiors II, which kept everyone on their toes.

Joe and Kenny showed up midmorning. Joe wore washed-out, faded Levi’s, Kenny dark blue trousers. Each man had on their white uniform shirts with the badges on them, though only Joe’s looked like it’d never met an iron it liked. He also wore aviator sunglasses, shoved to the top of his head, nearly lost in the mop of wild summer-kissed waves falling over his forehead. Kenny’s blond hair was firefighter short, and he had on his Harry Potter glasses.

Each man was armed, and each looked quite official in his own way.

Summer was ringing up a customer at the time, an athletic woman in her thirties who had a younger sister Summer had gone to school with. They were talking about which hiking trails were the best to take this time of year. The morning out there had rejuvenated Summer, and she couldn’t wait to get out again, right in her own backyard.

Funny, but this hadn’t been her own backyard in a very long time, and yet there was something comforting about claiming it again as hers, something unsettlingly promising.

But then Joe stepped inside, with his see-all eyes and watchful ways, with his gun and the baffling new confidence, bringing the heat of the day and the heat from something else entirely, and she lost her ability to concentrate. She couldn’t help it, she just stood there for a moment, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth, every thought escaping right out of her head.

Then he turned his head and unerringly found her in one sweeping glance.

The customer touched her arm, bringing her back. “You really brought the trails to life for me, thanks so much. Is it okay to go up there alone, do you think?”

“If you can read a map.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “I could get lost finding my way out of a paper bag.”

“I could call you next time I go.”

“Really?” She lit up, and searched her purse for a piece of paper to write down her number. “That would be so nice of you!”

Kenny moved into the back rooms. Joe didn’t. Summer couldn’t tear her eyes off him.

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be any trouble?” the customer asked, handing Summer the paper.

“Not at all.”

The customer thanked her again, petted Socks who was sprawled on the counter like a fat, stuffed animal, and left.

Joe stepped close. His gaze searched Summer’s face, his own expression a little tight. “You’re here.”

Had he thought she’d leave because things had gotten tough? Of course he’d think that. Only
she
was the tough one now and was going to prove it. “You look kinda tired,” she said, and blinked innocently. “Long night?”

“Not too bad.”

“Liar.”

That made his dimple flash, and he laughed, and she had to admit, she loved the sound.

Another customer walked in, the hanging bells over the door tinkering merrily. “That’s me,” she said, but neither of them moved. For Summer, staring up at him, she didn’t know what was happening to her, to them, but it seemed to her as if time stopped.

But Joe didn’t say a word, and with no choice, she dropped her gaze and began to move away.

Then he caught her wrist.

He hadn’t shaved again, and those light russet eyes danced with some emotion she didn’t have a name for. There was heat there, too, a carefully banked fire that stoked her own. “Red,” he said. Low. Gruff.