That One Summer: A Collection of Steamy Contemporary Romance

Chapter 10

Aneka

My phone chiming onthe porch side table jolted me. Without my reading glasses, I had to squint at the screen. The buzzing picked up as a flurry of texts from my kids rolled in with a news link.

I clicked.

“The preacher’s wife and the billionaire?” a headline read.

The actual article was sparse with nothing but clickbait speculation, along with a photo of Caleb and me that someone from the party posted on social media. I had my head on his shoulder, and we were laughing. Natalie stood on my other side in angry profile. No doubt she was sniping at Victor, who—lucky him—wasn’t in the picture.

My stomach churned as I typed out a response, explaining that Caleb was a friend from high school. To my relief, my easy explanation pacified them.

Naomi: If you get a boyfriend, tell us. We want the details.

Me: Ha ha. Will do.

As I hit send, the doorbell rang. I padded to the front door and found Natalie, a box of pastries in one hand and her phone in the other. She waved the device at me, the silly photo glowing on her screen.

“Well, well, well,” she said, eyebrow arched.

“Good morning to you, too.”

I ushered her inside, and she followed me back, stopping in the kitchen for an extra mug. We went to the back porch where I had a French press waiting. Pouring us each a cup, we settled in, overlooking my parents’ garden.

Natalie sipped her coffee. “You know this story is only going to get bigger, right? Caleb’s not exactly a nobody.”

I blinked. “It’s one stupid gossip page.”

“You’re not worried?” she asked.

A shaky breath leaked out of me, and I dropped back against my seat. “What am I going to do about it now? My kids have already seen it. They’re texting me. I’ll ignore it.”

She leaned over the side table, pinning with a curious look. “People are going to wonder if there’s something going on.”

I laughed. “You’re wondering what’s going on.”

She brought her hand to her throat. “I’d never pry.”

“Bullshit,” I replied. It was becoming my favorite word.

She cackled. “Boy, Aneka the divorcée is getting spicy as fuck. I wonder how spicy. I notice you stayed behind last night when everyone else was leaving.”

“The party was a blast. It was good to see him.”

“Who?” she chirped and fanned her lashes in mock confusion.

“Shut up.”

“I don’t want to make assumptions.” Natalie jiggled the photo at me again. “But you and Caleb looked cozy.”

“You look annoyed,” I countered.

“Bitch, don’t change the subject,” she commanded with familiar affection. “You look as smitten as I look annoyed. Come on. Did you stay or not?”

“Of course not. I’m here, aren’t I?” I waved my hand at the house.

“Did you at least get a kiss or something?”

I bit my lip, debating how much to share. My jangled emotions had me jumpy all morning. Finally, I blew out a breath.

“Swear you won’t tell a soul?”

She held up her hand. “Scout’s honor.”

“Or something... On the dock, after the party.”

“Something, like, something something?” she shouted. Her brows shot skyward, and her lips pressed tight.

I waved a hand. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m an alien who just landed from Mars,” I moaned.

She blew out a sigh. “I’m... I don’t... This from the woman who debated for a month whether to lose her virginity to her fiancé. I...” She shook her head. “Good for you, getting a little something something en plein air.”

“That makes it sound way fancier. I pulled a splinter out of my shin this morning.”

“Congrats.”

“But?” I shot back. “I can see the ‘but’ hovering over your head.”

“I just hope you’re clear on what you want. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like Caleb is really into you.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m into him too. And I’m tired of overthinking things. I don’t want to put off happiness, thinking there’s some magical future timeline where I’m finally allowed to enjoy myself. I want to be happy now.”

“With Caleb?” Natalie asked.

“Maybe. I’d say we’ll see, but I kind of already saw last night,” I grumbled, then laughed. “I’m giving myself the summer to sort things out. Neither of us is a kid. We should be able to tell each other the truth and deal with how we feel, right? We’ll see.”

As if on cue, my phone buzzed. Elijah’s name flashed on the screen. I cringed.

Natalie rolled her eyes. “Don’t answer it.”

But I did.

“Aneka, hey. Thought I’d check in, see how things are going.”

How had I never noticed how nasal his voice was? Like the wheezing engine of an old car that wouldn’t start.

I wanted to remind him he had papers to sign but didn’t.

“That’s why you’re calling? To check on me?”

“The news has been relentless lately. I feel terrible. Plus, I have news.”

I bit back a scoff as he launched into an update on his criminal case.

“I got the money from the sale of my uncle’s land. I’m repaying the church for the money I borrowed.”

Borrowed? Elijah had softening words for all the stunts he pulled. Borrowed. Indiscretion. Misstep. But at least he could return the money he took. I felt a flicker of relief.

“Does that mean the board won’t press charges?”

“We’re working through that, but if I make full restitution, there won’t be a problem,” he answered with his usual boundless optimism.

“What are your chances, honestly? The kids are worried. Don’t BS me.”

“BS?” His voice rose, but he didn’t comment on my choice description. Elijah never cursed. “I’ll know more in the next week or so, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure we have a deal. Tell the kids not to worry. Not about this.”

I frowned. What did that last part mean? I didn’t have the energy for more of his drama, not before I’d finished my morning coffee. Instead, I circled back to the only topic I wanted to address with him. “Have you signed the papers yet? My attorney sent them over a week ago.”

“I have them. We’re going over them one more time. I want to make sure we’re doing the right thing.”

The hedging in his voice made me want to scream. I sat up straighter.

“Of course, this is the right thing. We’ve talked about this.” I bit back swirling anger, gripping the phone. “I’m ready to be done.”

“I can see that,” he replied, an edge to his voice.

He probably saw the photo. I didn’t care. I hissed a hard breath through my teeth.

“Thanks for the update. And I’m fine. Is there anything else?”

“Well, no, I—”

“I have guests.”

“Really?” His voice rose again.

“Natalie’s here. We’re having breakfast.”

“Oh, tell her I said hi.”

“She’ll be thrilled to hear from you. Goodbye.”

I tapped the end button on my phone the minute he replied with his own goodbye.

“Elijah says hello.”

“Fuck him.”

“He—” I cut myself off from reflexively defending him. “He sounded odd.”

“Someone probably sent him the picture, and he’s digging for dirt.”

“That figures,” I told her. “One hint of me having a life without him and suddenly he’s all concern. You know, this is the first time in months he didn’t mention Tyffani?”

She smirked. “Progress.”

“Enough about all that.”

“Yeah. We were talking about Caleb,” Natalie chirped.

“We’re done talking about Caleb. I shouldn’t have even said anything. It’s between me and him,” I answered primly.

“Fine. I’m not asking you to kiss and tell—unless you want to,” she said with a brow waggle. “But if you want to talk, I’m here.”

Her gossipy glee faded back into here-for-me concern, and I smiled, taking her hand.

“I know. I needed to tell someone, but I don’t want to talk about it. I’m...processing,” I said. Between last night and the photo, I had too much to think about when all I wanted to do was to consider how I felt.

Why had I told Caleb I wanted a day to myself? Now I didn’t. I wanted to talk to him. Would it seem wishy-washy to text him?

I stopped the doom spiral and reminded myself of what I told Natalie. We were adults. We could have a conversation. I’d call him this afternoon. Invite him over. We’d talk. Just talk.

“You process all you want to,” she said and looked again at the tabloid picture, wrinkling her nose. “In the meantime, I’m over here hating that freaking picture of me. I look like a shrew.”

“He’s really under your skin, isn’t he?”

“Who?” Natalie asked breezily.

“Girl, please.”

“It sucks,” she said, frowning. “I liked Victor when we first met. And when he’s not being an arrogant know-it-all, he can be funny. But he’s such an asshole sometimes. I’m not sure it’s worth it. Even if he does have lips I’d lick like an ice cream cone.”

I gave her a sidelong glance. Natalie wasn’t known for her restraint. If she wanted to lick a man like an ice cream cone, it was only a matter of time.

“It’s good Victor challenges you.”

She harrumphed, poured herself more coffee, and lifted the lid on the box of pastry. “Honey bun?”

“Who you talking to?”

She handed me one, and I considered what she said. Caleb and I had our own differences. He’d been married twice, unable to settle down, while I had clung to my marriage because I craved stability.

Caleb coming back to Bliss was a positive sign. He put down roots. But what if he grew bored with small-town life? Or me? How would I feel if we had a fling and it all fell apart?

I banished the questions and refocused on my plans for the day. I wouldn’t let fears—past or present—dictate my choices. Not anymore.

* * *

After Natalie lefta couple of hours later, my phone buzzed again while I tidied the kitchen. I stopped and perched on a stool at the wide island.

Caleb: Have time to talk?

Instead of replying, I called him.

“I guess you do have time to talk.”

“I thought we should.” I paused, tapping nervously on my parents’ granite countertop.

“How are you? Okay this morning?”

“I am. You?”

“Better if my friends weren’t hounding me with questions. I’m sure Natalie has already called you.”

“She came over with pastry, questions, and,” I continued, singing the words to keep my anxiety at bay, “I don’t know if you saw, but there’s a photo from the party on a gossip site.”

“Jeni sent me the link. You and are social media stars.”

My stomach twisted. “I don’t want to be social media famous.”

“Influencer isn’t a career in your future?”

“Definitely not.”

“This won’t complicate your divorce, will it?” he asked. “You must worry about what people around town are going to say. Now, it’s more than Bliss gossip.”

“No. My divorce is proceeding. I guess. Elijah called this morning. I think he saw the photo, too.”

“Did he?”

“I think. I don’t know. He was acting weird.” I paused with a sigh. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“So you aren’t worried about the picture?”

“Not if you’re not worried.”

That was all I could say. Here I was with yet another part of my life being taken over by public perception. Most of the comments so far were positive. The internet was in full support of me getting some.

Yay.

Not that they could tell that from a single photo. We could deny we were together. Which weren’t anyway, right? It was one night.

But if we dated. If there were more photos, more public outings together, it’d be harder to deny.

“If you want to call off our date and...” His voice fell off.

He was giving me an out.

But it didn’t want it.

“No. The date is still on,” I replied instantly.

Thirty years too late, it would seem. I still had to call Dad and see what he would say about whatever sermon he given Caleb.

“But we should see how this goes before running around town,” I suggested. “My kids are already texting me about whether I have a new boyfriend. I’m...”

I curled my toes in my shoes, bracing for how he’d take what I said.

“I can’t believe you don’t want to be headline news!” The humor remained in his voice, even though I felt a trickle of his disappointment.

“I know. This is the whole reason I left Houston. I’m tired of hearing my name on TV,” I explained.

“I’m sorry this has all been so hard on you. We can test things out with just us. Nothing public. I feel you,” he declared.

I exhaled. “Come over tomorrow. I’ll make you dinner.”

“Perfect.”

“You sure you don’t mind getting sucked into my drama? It’s probably why Jeni sent it to you. Not the best PR,” I murmured.

After a beat of silence, he spoke with humored defiance punching his words. “If I gave a shit what people said about me, I’d have curled up and died a long time ago. But I don’t have kids, and no one cares about my ex-wives.”

“Where are they?” I probed, more than a little curious.

“Remarried. One has kids. One has a company about to IPO. They both have what they want.” His succinct answer left no room for more questions—for now, at least.

“And do you have what you want in life?”

“Of course,” he shot back. “A date with you.”

I laughed, glad we were on the phone, so he couldn’t see me blushing and nervously dancing up the stairs to my room.