That One Summer: A Collection of Steamy Contemporary Romance

Chapter 7

Caleb

The colorful show explodedoverhead with a loud chorus of hisses and pops. The pyrotechnics launched from the opposite shore, sending arcs of red and blue streaking through the sky.

“Ooh, this is so much better than last year,” Natalie exclaimed and turned to me. “You outdid yourself.”

“Have to push it each year if I’m going to keep people coming out.”

Partygoers filled with barbecue parked on blankets at the water’s edge. Aneka, Natalie, and Victor stayed back with me, standing on my deck to take in the display. Each explosion left behind a trail of sparkling embers. Aneka’s fingers brushed my forearm and did the same, tingling my skin and shuddering my breath.

“I enjoyed today. The best in a long time,” she said, her voice low and inviting.

“I’m glad.”

I opened my mouth to say something else, but Natalie’s and Victor’s bickering interrupted.

“Oh please, you wouldn’t know fun if it bit you in the ass,” she said.

“Is that an offer?” Victor retorted with a wink.

Natalie scoffed. “In your dreams. I need some water.” She marched off to grab one from a cooler at the edge of the deck.

“I could, uh, use some refreshment myself.” He bounded after her, calling her name with an apology in his voice.

Aneka laughed. “Those two should hook up already and end this nonsense.”

I swept a hand down my face and covered my mouth. The Aneka I remembered didn’t talk about casual hookups. She caught my expression and elbowed me.

“You think I’m some kind of prude.”

“No, I don’t. It’s that... You’re...” I didn’t even want to finish the sentence because it reminded me of her father’s words.

She wasn’t for me.

Not yet.

Even though every touch made my skin burn, and every look she gave me set my blood racing—mostly southward.

“I’m what? A preacher’s daughter? A preacher’s wife?” She shrugged. “I didn’t choose to be the first. And I’m a few weeks away from no longer being the second. Marrying Elijah was never about being a preacher’s wife. Besides, I sucked at it.”

The Aneka beside me wasn’t the girl I’d put on a pedestal. That girl—if she’d ever existed—was gone. The multifaceted woman beside me was way more interesting, and I wanted to know her. Not just because I appreciated the way the lights played on her face or the way her body swayed to the orchestral music soaring along with the fireworks.

“A few weeks away?” I ventured.

“I’m waiting for Elijah to sign our final agreement.”

“And you’re happy about it?”

Her head tipped toward my shoulder so she could deliver her response directly into my ear. “I can’t wait—even if my parents and lots of others keeping suggesting I should stand by my man.”

I grunted my disapproval. “Why? I get why the church might tell you that. But your parents?”

“They’ve always believed tradition would keep me safe. They don’t understand that’s not enough reason to stay,” she paused and took her eyes off the sky to look at me. “They’re more literal about things. What God has joined and so on.”

“I’ve always assumed you were mostly the same,” I said. “I admired your belief, even if I could never imagine living inside a strict religious box. Too many rules.”

“I still believe in God, in treating people well, you know? But a lot of those rules are less about God and more about controlling folks or keeping everything more polite than fair,” she explained and turned to me. “Confession?”

I cocked a brow, curious, and wrapped an arm around to lean closer and hear what she had to say.

“I’ve always thought that, but I never felt like I could say it.”

“Like screaming bullshit at the top of your lungs?”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Don’t tell anybody. Sometimes I like my good girl rep.”

“Confession?” I started and waited until she pressed into my side, her hand skimming my stomach. “I like my bad boy rep. I enjoy breaking the limits people set on what I can do, what I can achieve. I hate meaningless rules.”

Her smile turned alluring. “So do I. I think that’s why I liked you the minute we met.”

“I didn’t know,” I said. But I wished.

“You knew I liked you. Eventually.”

Her gaze trailed over my shoulder toward the pier down the shore. I cleared my throat.

“I did.”

“For all the good it did me.” She poked my bicep and tossed me a wavering grin.

For the moment, I didn’t let myself get drawn back to that night.

“If your parents think you should stay with Elijah, they’d definitely have opinions about my two divorces.” I laughed.

“Married twice? I didn’t know,” Aneka replied. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“My first marriage was right after college. She was sweet, family-oriented...” My description drifted off where I might have to admit she’d reminded me of pedestal Aneka. “I think we both thought getting married would make us adult and respectable, but we didn’t want the same things. I was working all the time. She wanted me at home more. She wanted a family. I’ve never had that drive to have kids, and I definitely didn’t want that in my twenties.”

“And number two?”

“We were better suited in some ways. A power couple. She was an entrepreneur like me, but we both worked too much, and once again, I picked someone for the boxes they checked on a list, not for how we felt about each other,” I answered.

My first marriage was affection and some love without passion. The second was passion without love or, thinking back, even much affection. We worked, fucked, networked, and then went back to hustling. She eventually fell in true love with one of her investors, realized what we had wasn’t a life, and asked for a divorce. The only thing that surprised me was how much her leaving didn’t hurt.

“How long were you married each time?”

“Five years and two. I’ve been divorced now,” I paused to do the math, “ten years.”

“Are you done getting married?” she asked.

The heat of the evening seemed to turn up several degrees. “I don’t know.”

She shrugged. “The overachiever in me would like to see if I could get it right.”

“Who’s to say you didn’t already get it right? You obviously have smart, successful kids. You were married for a long time. That sounds like enough to me,” I declared. “What does getting it right even mean?”

“Staying together until death do us part like I promised?” She blew out a stream of air and grimaced. “That’s more bullshit. Isn’t it?”

“Not if it’s what you wanted, but that’s not a reason to be miserable. You get to decide what getting it right means.” I threw an arm around her shoulders and leaned in. “But you know that already or you wouldn’t be divorcing.”

“What rules does Caleb the Rebel live by?”

I let my fingertips trail over her shoulder while I thought of how to answer. “Always be kind. Always tell the truth. And never let what people say should be keep you from creating what could be.”

Aneka’s smile sharpened. “You’re a dreamer and a rebel.”

“Can you be one without the other?”

She didn’t respond.

The crowd gasped and broke into applause as the fizzing sound of the fireworks’ ascent sped up and burst into an eye-popping finale. A comfortable silence fell between us, punctuated by the seemingly distant sounds of the dispersing crowd.

People stopped to thank me and say their goodbyes, and Aneka stood next to me, greeting familiar faces and taking in their curious looks.

When we reached a brief pause in the flow of people, she leaned in and whispered, “Take a walk with me. It’s too nice a night, and I don’t want to go home yet.”

I hesitated, and she stepped off the deck and wound her way toward a trail by the shore. The undulation of her hips synced with the gentle lapping of the water in front of us, enchanting me. I followed her down the familiar pebbled path away from the crowd and the house, like she knew I would, keeping pace with the crunch of her sandaled steps.