That One Summer: A Collection of Steamy Contemporary Romance

Chapter 2

Sam finished the lastbite of shrimp tacos and licked his lips. He stared down at his empty plate. How did Charlotte turn something so simple into something this delicious?

“Are you going to be able to finish checking out the kitchen storage area this afternoon?” he asked after picking up his plate and hers and bringing them to the sink.

“Yes, that’s the plan.” She covered the leftover veggies and tortillas with plastic and placed them in the giant fridge.

“Great. Add whatever seems off to the list.” Sam nodded to himself as he sat back on his stool. There’d been a lot of extra expenses for kitchen supplies, items that didn’t make sense. Charlotte had started going through the huge supply room, trying to account for all the inventory. He’d barely known the difference between a sous vide machine and a stick blender so he counted on her expertise.

“George and I are going over materials they used to repair the roofs.”

“I don’t trust George.”

“I’m not sure I do either—at least not anymore.” Sam hated saying that. George had managed three of Sam’s properties in the past. He’d always been a top-notch manager.

Sam’s cell rang, and he pulled it from his back pocket. “Jacobson.”

“Sam, it’s Stephanie. I need a favor.”

Sam smiled. Stephanie Marcel, one of his favorite people, was the wife of his good friend Ross Simmons and owner/manager/matchmaker extraordinaire of Fantasy, Inc., the uber private sex club.

During the past six months, he’d spent too much time at the Fantasy club in New York. The club and Stephanie promised incredible, mind-blowing experiences in luxurious settings, but it hadn’t worked for him. He’d gone to get someone out of his mind—but it hadn’t helped. Not that it was Stephanie’s fault. It was all on him.

“What do you need?” he asked immediately.

“I have a group of twenty guests at the Puerto Vallarta airport, headed to our Fantasy resort near Las Corrales. Because of the impending storm down there, the airport authority is putting all arrivers on a bus to Guadalajara, which is five hours away in the opposite direction of our resort. Your new place in Sayulita is so close. I was hoping you’d let them stay there until the weather passed. I’ll send food and necessary supplies, of course.”

“I’m surprised they’re busing people out of the area because of a tropical storm.” He’d been following the weather on the news for days, and a mild late summer storm was on its way. He glanced up at the sky. So far not a cloud in it.

“Well, they’ve just upgraded it to a category 1 hurricane and suggest it might grow stronger.”

“Hm.” That didn’t sound good. “Hold on.”

He put down the phone and turned to Charlotte. “It’s my friend Stephanie at Fantasy,” he began and told her the situation. “What do you think? It’ll only be for a day or two, and Stephanie is sending food and other necessities.”

Charlotte’s bright blue eyes widened, but she nodded. “Wow, that’s a big group, but sure. We’ll manage.”

Sam reached over and gave her arm a squeeze. “Thanks. If you organize things, I’ll do any heavy lifting. You’re the best,” he said, then picked up his phone and told Stephanie to proceed.

Charlotte wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and stepped away from the counter. “I’ll go check on the casitas and make sure we have twenty rooms properly set up for guests.”

“The cleaning staff will help.”

She offered a wry smile before heading out. “I guess checking inventory in the kitchen storage area will have to wait for another day.”

“Hopefully, a small delay.”

Sam twisted on his stool as Charlotte strode away, her long, dark ponytail swishing back and forth as she quickened her steps.

What would he do without her?

Charlotte came into his life because he loved her cooking. But she’d become so much more than his personal chef in the last year. Being uber organized, she kept him on schedule better than anyone else ever had, and his world was no longer...cluttered. And even though she didn’t know business and real estate, she was smart and thoughtful and could talk about business and real estate.

They’d become business associates as well as friends.

And sometimes more than friends.

Sam leaned onto one elbow and stared up at the clear blue sky. Yes, there’d been a moment when they’d been more than friends.

Six months ago, four members of her very competent bake staff at Drake’s Delicious Cakes called in sick. They left orders to fill—cookies to bake, and cakes and cupcakes to decorate—and Charlotte panicked. Sam volunteered to help, and they’d spent hours at the bakery. She’d performed her cake artistry, and he’d dealt with customers and made and baked cookies following her very precise instructions. After closing, they’d spent an hour cleaning, mostly in the areas where he’d worked. Then she’d thanked him with a hug, and suddenly they were kissing.

Had he started it or had she? He had no idea. But her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he pulled her close, and his breathing stopped. His lips were on hers, soft and sweet, and then not so sweet—but needy and desperate. His arms around her tightened, and the kiss deepened. His tongue eased into her mouth as his whole body tensed. He needed her, needed this, and it felt so right.

“Charlotte...” His lips slid to her cheek and then her jaw, and he took in the sweet scent of her soft skin. Every bit of her enticed him. “I think...”

She pulled from him and slowly backed away. “Sam, we need to stop.”

And then they’d stopped, and never talked about it again.

Too often she made words about his world and his fancy life as if she didn’t belong there.

She didn’t see herself the way he saw her. And that was wrong, so wrong.