That One Summer: A Collection of Steamy Contemporary Romance

Chapter 6

Aneka

From outside, the Blissmansion looked exactly like it did in high school. The glistening white, three-story home sat tucked in the pines at the end of a private road with its wraparound porch and deep green shutters. Thirty yards of red brick walkway trailed up to the painted double doors, stair-stepped and lined with lamps that looked like lanterns you’d see on a Galveston boardwalk.

Back then, Armand Bliss, grandson of the grave-rolling racist who built the house shortly after Texas became a state, lived in it with his wife, Victoria. His only son, David, lived in Dallas with his wife and three kids. David went to college there and rarely came back except to drop off his kids for summer visits with their grandparents. When school was out, the Bliss grandkids held notorious and elaborate parties with the locals on the lake behind the house.

I never went.

First, no one ever directly invited me. The Powells weren’t in the heart of the Bliss family social circle in those days—not in Armand’s generation, David Sr.’s, nor the younger set with David Jr., Daisy, and Daniel. Daisy was my age. David was two or three years older, and Daniel was about the same number younger. Friends of friends would say things like, “I don’t think they’d mind if you stopped by,” which wasn’t exactly welcoming.

Second, my parents would have never let me go. David and Judy Bliss left the teens with Grandpa Armand during holidays so they could travel the world unencumbered. Armand was ancient and partially deaf, which was perfect for the raucous, booze-filled get-togethers his teenaged grandkids threw. From what I heard, the elderly Bliss patriarch only came down to scream at teens who vomited in his rose bushes after drinking too many wine coolers, then went back upstairs without interfering.

The Bliss grandkids ran wild when they came to town, and no one did anything about the parties, the drag racing through the center of town, or the drunken jet skiing that made boating on the lake a hazard from Memorial Day to Labor Day. The sheriff looked the other way and called it “kids being kids” with a chuckle.

I only ignored Dad’s warnings to stay away from the Bliss Farm once, right after graduation. I spent the night at Natalie’s, and we snuck down to the lake to join the other reveling seniors.

Pulling up in front of the place now felt strange—like I was breaking the rules and inviting trouble. Dad’s warnings about getting caught at Bliss Farm ran through my head as I put my SUV into park behind a line of vehicles in the wide drive.

When Judy and the kids sold the house after David Sr. died three years ago, the whole town worried what kind of interloper might descend. Word spread that a holding company bought not only the mansion, but the old dairy farm and many of the buildings in town. On one hand, people worried it could be a hotel chain or some industrial giant with plans to ruin their lives out of towners and noise. On the other, they wondered who’d want it all.

Other than being a short drive off I-20 between Dallas and Shreveport, Bliss didn’t have appear to have much economic value to anyone. And the Bliss mansion—or was it was McKnight Mansion now?—was a relic.

On my last visit, some even speculated cartels might use the land to fly drugs in and money out. One of Mom’s friends read an article about that happening in a little town in Mississippi. That the company turned out to belong to a former resident was a relief. Now Caleb was doing everything he could to turn Bliss into a town people moved to instead of running from as soon as they turned eighteen.

He must have spent a mint to restore the mansion to its old glory. Fresh black shingles topped the roof, and the siding was new, crisp white. The lamp posts glistened with smooth black paint. Walking up the brick trail to the front door, the sounds of the party got louder, reminding me again of all the ones I’d missed and the one I didn’t. Nerves fluttered in my stomach. Old teenage fears or new ones? I couldn’t tell.

I reached for the button on the video bell, but the door swung open. Caleb stood there, smiling.

“I wondered if you might ditch me,” he said, shoving one hand into the pocket of his linen pants and rocking back on his heels.

I smiled back. He was as nervous as I was.

“I had to come. You hijacked my honey buns.”

He snickered, but angled his large frame away from filling the doorway so I could enter. “Come on, now. I haven’t stolen anything since the mayor’s shiny ‘92 Fleetwood.”

“You and Angie Carroll almost got arrested,” I said, entering the foyer.

“Colton’s dad saved my ass.”

“Whatever happened to Angie? She left town not too long after.”

“Her mother sent her to live with her parents. Ms. Carroll thought she was fast.”

Everyone did. She and Caleb went joyriding out County Line Road to the other side of the lake where all the kids went parking.

“People assumed you were knocking boots.” I raised my brows, awaiting his response.

“Angie and I weren’t knocking anything except teeth and awkward kisses,” he answered with a cackle. “Though Lord knows I tried.”

A squiggle of jealousy screwed my breath in my chest. Had he tried with all the girls except me? I was probably too uptight back then. I wore patent leather shoes to church until I was seventeen, for Pete’s sake.

I ignored the feeling and followed him across the entryway. The heel of my slide sandals clacked on the dark oak floor. I’d seen the inside of the house only once. Right after Elijah and I married, Daisy invited us to a party on a return trip for Christmas.

A staircase curved down from the second floor on the left side of the front door. They’d trimmed it in garland with poinsettia leaves livening the dark wood banister, which matched the walls of the entryway. Now, the dark banister remained, but the spindles were creamy white, and the paneled walls were a pale taupe. Instead of the decades-old crystal chandelier, a modern fixture hung above in oiled bronzed with crackled glass globes tipping the ends. I gazed up and around at the bits of the old mixed with new.

“I guess this isn’t Bliss Mansion anymore. What do you call it?”

“Home. Most everyone still calls it the Old Bliss Mansion. Trying to get them to call the place anything else is probably a waste of time.” Caleb chuckled. “I’ll show you back. Natalie and a few others from school are on the patio.”

We went down a hallway lined with pictures. His grandmother and others who looked like family. Party photos of Caleb at Rice University. Pictures from business functions and of him receiving various awards. I wanted to stop and examine each one but couldn’t if I wanted to keep up with his long strides.

* * *

We stopped in a greatroom filled with party goers in their shabby chic summer wear. On the other side of the windowed wall, Natalie rolled her eyes at a deadlocked man whose gesticulations grew the more she smirked at him. I didn’t know the guy, but I knew that look on Natalie’s face. She was about to chew him a new digestive orifice.

Before I could catch my friend’s attention, a tall, thin woman with a tightly coiled blond updo, pale brown skin, and sharp green eyes came over. She pretended not to look me up and down, but I didn’t miss the expression. Her smile seemed genuine, so I eased the wary stiffness creeping into my shoulders.

She extended a hand, and I did too.

“Hi, I’m Jeni Taylor, Caleb’s chief of staff,” she said.

A colleague? I wondered. The way she darted her eyes back and forth between her boss and me hinted at possessiveness. Caleb might have only invited me because we were old high school buddies.

“Aneka,” I answered, leaving off my troublesome last name and shaking her hand.

“I know.”

My smile stretched until my cheeks hurt. Of course, she knew. My face had been all over the news. She gripped my hand in a comforting gesture before dropping it.

“I’ve been curious to meet you. My husband and I were taking bets about whether you’d show or if you were a figment of his imagination. Caleb’s been gushing so much about you all afternoon. My husband wasn’t sure you were real.”

She flicked her thumb over her shoulder toward a stout man in cargo shorts, who, now that I noticed him, was eyeing me with a curiosity similar to his wife over the shoulder of Bliss’ mayor, Tom Handley.

Her boss screwed his mouth sideways and shook his head. “My soon-to-be-former chief of staff exaggerates because she enjoys embarrassing me. I guess that’s the theme for the day.”

Their banter surprised me, but Caleb only laughed at her familiar ribbing. Instead of piling on by mentioning our sports rivalry, I changed the subject.

“I love what you’ve done with the house. It’s much brighter than the last time I was here,” I said, turning to his assistant again. “Do you have a place here in Bliss?”

Her nose wrinkled. I guess she wasn’t a fan of our small-town charm.

“No. Caleb travels so much. It’s more convenient for us to live in Dallas. I only come here if we have to meet face to face or if he’s throwing one of his fantastic parties.”

I shifted my gaze back to our host. “Yeah. It looks like he’s taking over the Bliss family tradition of epic ragers.”

“Everything except drunk kids passed out on the back lawn. This place was built for entertaining.”

A familiar voice roared behind me. “And entertain us, you are.”

I whirled around. “Colton! I haven’t seen you in ages.”

The handsome, square-jawed former NFL quarterback swept me into a hug that lifted me off my feet. “Aneka! When I heard you got to town yesterday, I hoped I’d get to see you. You’re looking fine as always.”

“I can see you’re flattering every lady in earshot, as always.” I stepped back and smacked his hard bicep.

He may have retired from the league almost ten years ago, but Colton was still in peak shape, looming over nearly everyone in the room with his six-foot-five frame and boundless charisma.

No one knew how much of the billions generated from the sale of Caleb’s company went to Bliss’ favorite sports hero. He never worked in the company, so the information wasn’t public. But that didn’t stop people from speculating—especially when Colton sold the family home he used to live in and built a larger one on the lakeshore next to Caleb’s.

Other than that, though, Colton lived the same way: playing golf at every nearby course and occasionally stopping in at Gardner Ford to shake hands and, if available, kiss babies. The man could run for any office from mayor of Bliss to President of the United States.

“How long you in town?” he asked.

“At least the rest of the summer,” I replied with a smile. “I’m considering my options.”

Colton’s eyebrows shot up. “We’d love to have you back. We’ve missed having our class’s classiest member to keep us all in line.”

“I don’t think I improved anyone’s behavior. You guys getting me in trouble more than a time or two.”

He swept an arm around my shoulders. “If it hadn’t been for you, it would have been way more than a time or two.”

Natalie made her way into the living room, waving at a few other fresh arrivals. Her patio combatant trailed behind.

“Victor,” Colton began, “I was telling Aneka how much we enjoyed her civilizing us wild boys. Is that what was going on outside? Is Natalie civilizing you?”

Victor blasted a laugh. Natalie snorted, flicking an irritated glance at him.

“Not sure that’s possible with Mr. ‘I’d like you better if you smiled more’ over here.”

Caleb winced and clutched his chest. “Your mama raised you better than that, man.”

His friend straightened. “Of course she did. All I said was it was delightful to see Natalie smiling. The last time I saw her, she was pissed at me. Now, she’s mad again.”

“What did you do?” Colton asked.

“Yes. Tell them,” Natalie snapped, lips tight with annoyance.

“Who knows? She’s always mad at me. That’s why I was so surprised to see her smiling. Sue me. I prefer when she’s not growling at me.” Victor splayed his hands as is begging to be heard.

“So you say,” Caleb murmured and grinned, looking between our two friends.

Natalie mentioned Caleb had a friend who got on her nerves. Some uber-wealthy guy with little self-awareness who walked around like he owned the town. Something about his fast cars—plural—and flashy new house.

“We haven’t been introduced,” I said, and the other men murmured their apologies. “I’m Aneka.”

“Victor Harvey. I live a couple of houses away. On the other side of Colton’s place. Best view of the lake.”

I kept Natalie in my peripheral vision as we shook hands. She folded her arms.

“Victor is usually very impressed with himself.”

My eyes widened at her uncharacteristic snippiness, but he took it in stride.

“I tell the truth,” he said with a half shrug and a smug wink at Natalie, who looked like the top of her head might blow from the steam gathering in her expression.

“The arrogance is why he feels comfortable shelling out unsolicited business advice,” she offered, eyeing him sharply.

“Oh, yeah. That’s how this started.” He shook his head. “All I did was offer a suggestion because you mentioned wanting to boost mid-week sales.”

“It was an off-hand comment about doing some more marketing. Not an invitation for consulting.”

“It was advice. Take it or leave,” he countered, finally a little peeved.

“It’s not about your business advice,” Natalie snapped, her voice laced with a touch of exasperation. “It’s about the fact that you assumed I needed it in the first place. I’ve been running this bakery fine without some fancy MBA telling me what to do.”

Now I understood. When Natalie came back to take over the bakery, one of her dad’s friends offered to buy it from her because he didn’t think she’d be able to run it on her own. The guy got aggressive, finally telling her, “When you’re ready to admit that knowing how to bake cookies isn’t the same thing as knowing how to run a business, call me, girlie.”

She told me that story at least fifty times.

Victor’s lips curled into a half-amused, half-challenging grin. “Fancy? You flatter me. Although Forbes did refer to Caleb and me as ‘a one-two punch of tech genius and business savvy.’ I’m the business savvy.”

He flipped his thumbs toward his chest and squared his broad shoulders.

Natalie opened her mouth to respond, but I grabbed her by the elbow. “Is that Mia? I met her this morning. We should say hello.”

Thankfully, the bohemian photographer was winding her way toward us through the crowd. I pulled Natalie behind me, shooting Caleb an exasperated look.

“They should get a room already,” he mumbled as I passed.

His hot words on my cheek made me giggle like I did in my patent leather days. Victor and Natalie weren’t the only ones catching sparks.

* * *

“Are you fighting withVictor again?” Mia asked as we approached.

“It seemed more like flirtatious sparring to me,” I said.

“Uh, huh. Foreplay,” Mia smirked.

“Hell no.” Natalie thrust out her tongue and turned up her nose. “He’s nothing but a fuckboy. The ego on him alone. Get the fuck out.”

“I don’t know. The way you looked at him said you were checking out other things on him besides his ego,” I sang.

“You’re bringing up Victor, so I don’t ask you about Caleb. You two are the ones eye fucking each other.”

My face burned. “I’ve never eye banged anyone in public a day in my life.”

Natalie wasn’t having it. “Of course you have. Mainly Caleb. Every time you see him. This is why you’ve avoided him since you married Pastor Punkass.”

I had to laugh. Of her many creative names for my soon-to-be ex, Pastor Punkass was her favorite.

Mia brightened. “So that’s why Caleb ignores all the women in town. He’s waiting for you to come back.”

“We just haven’t crossed paths much,” I denied.

“Liar.” Natalie announced.

“That’s the literal truth.”

“What about this afternoon?” Mia smoothed the edges of her purple hairdo and leaned in. “Nat said you and Caleb spent the day together.”

When had they had time to discuss my social life? Naomi might have a point about Bliss being too small and gossipy for comfort.

“He took me around town. We checked out the community center and played a little basketball. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“A little one-on-one?” Mia wiggled her brows.

“Mmm hmm. Did you let him drive hard to your lane?” Natalie asked with a snorting laugh.

“Funny.” I smirked.

My old friend tugged on my elbow. “Tell us what happened, and we’ll stop teasing you.”

I paused, not even sure how to explain what was happening between us. Something about seeing Caleb again brought me back to my teenaged self, the girl who felt like he was a kindred spirit from the first moment I saw him striding down the hallway wearing a Dennis Rodman San Antonio Spurs jersey the first day of school freshman year.

The way my heart raced when he smiled or the electric charge that zinged between us whenever we touched, it was like no time has passed. I liked it. Why not finally explore those feelings? To stay the good girl and the good wife? I wasn’t either anymore.

“We hung out, you know. Got caught up.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow. “The way you’re blushing says it was more than catching up.”

“All we did was play basketball, but I don’t know... It was... I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, letting the tension in my chest out through my voice. “I feel guilty. But then I don’t. Elijah moved on a long time ago.”

“You’re entitled to some revenge nookie,” Natalie sniped.

“No. This has nothing to do with my marriage,” I replied. “It goes back further than that.”

Saying it out loud clarified my feelings. How I felt about Caleb didn’t deserve to be mixed up in the mess with Elijah. People around town might think that. If the media caught wind of me dating one of the country’s newest uber-rich entrepreneurs, they’d turn my relationship with him into yet another juicy tabloid tidbit.

But I also knew that the media was going to make up their own narrative about me. So far, they’d cast me as the long-suffering, betrayed wife. I didn’t love that story either.

Natalie placed a hand on mine, her expression softening. “If you feel like it’s more than a rebound, all the more reason to see where this goes.”

“I just met you, but I can see that you really like him. Who cares what anybody else thinks?” Mia added.

“You’re right.” I glanced over her shoulder at Caleb laughing with his friends, secure in his success and making a home where it all started. I wanted to get to know this version of him. How long was I supposed to sacrifice myself at the altar of a marriage that was dead long before Elijah’s latest liaison?

All he and I had left was legal wrangling and paperwork.

“Plus, it’s what I want,” I declared.

I hadn’t done something just because I wanted in a long time. If ever. He and I could be a summer fling or something more, but right now, being with him felt like exactly what I needed.