That One Summer: A Collection of Steamy Contemporary Romance

Chapter 9

Jack

After Ella’s, I walkedthrough our sleeping hometown until I got to my parents’ new house. One of the first things I did with the extra money was buy them a new place. This house wasn’t in the old section of town like the Stewarts’ home, but it was still in the rich area, and I could get there on foot, which was good because Hailey had taken the car back to Three Birds this afternoon, which left me stranded in town.

Blue light flickered across the front window curtains at the new house, which didn’t surprise me because my stepdad, Don, was a night owl. I texted to see if it was him. He came right to the door.

“Jack!” He beamed. Don’t think for a second he was just being nice because I bought him a house. It was the other way around. “Good to see you, son.”

Don stepped back and let me into the house. It always brought up mixed feelings when he called me son. My dad died, so the term always conjured up a little sadness. But I also felt grateful. The one man who could call me son without hesitation was gone, and the fact Don treated me like his own was a gift. For a pretty decent amount of time, I had hated Don for taking Dad’s place, and Don had stood by me through it all. He was the person who had first introduced me to the idea that it was OK to love more than one person, that my regard for Don didn’t change my love for my father. There was room for both. He’d taught me that lesson more than once, actually. When he’d had kids with my mom, he’d sat us all down from the start, told them and me that he loved us the same, just like he loved Mom, that we were family and that love wasn’t something in short supply; there was always enough for everyone.

“I was actually hoping I could borrow a car?” I asked.

“Everything OK?”

“Oh, yeah. I got a ride here with Hailey, but she had to leave and I had some stuff to do in town.”

“Hailey? How’s she doing?” Don leaned against the doorframe.

“She’s running a bakery now.”

“Good for her. We’ve got the spare all made up. Want to stay the night?” Don asked, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “Your brother and sister would love to see you.”

It was tempting, honestly, because it was good to see them, but I needed to see Hailey, to tell her what had happened. “Thanks, but I kinda need to...”

Don nodded, shoved a hand into his front pocket, and pulled out his key ring. He peeled one off of the metal loop. “Take the Honda.”

“You sure? It might be a couple of days before I can bring it back.”

“I’ll ride the bike.” He winked. He’d gotten himself a Harley Street 500 last summer.

“I could take the bike,” I offered.

“Your ma would kill me.” He dropped the key in my palm. “Come through the house. I’ll get the garage door.”

“Hey, thanks.” Every once in a while, it hit me that Don was really solid. I was a grown-ass adult hitting him up for a ride at one in the morning, and he wasn’t rude or demanding; he just helped me out.

* * *

“Whatissszzit?” Haileymuttered from under the covers as I crawled in beside her.

When I’d handed her my car keys, she’d handed me her house key.

“I saw Ella.” I nuzzled her ear.

“Me tooo...” she answered in her sleepy, smart-assed way.

“In her bedroom tonight.”

Hailey went still, but I could feel the electricity shooting through her, muscles rigid along her frame.

“I caught her sniffing these.” I dropped the crumpled bikini on the bedspread, rolled over, and turned the bedside lamp on so she could see.

Hailey sat up, staring at the bikini. She didn’t complain that I’d woken her in the middle of the night or that I’d told her I was in another girl’s bedroom. Being with Hailey made me feel like the luckiest man on earth...until I remembered how my failure to keep Ella had broken something between the three of us.

It was my fault. Ella had gotten up, brave as balls, and told everyone in our podunk town she was in love with Hailey and me. I had done nothing at that moment when it mattered most—no declaration of solidarity, no support. Looking back, I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been, how alone Ella must’ve felt as she’d stood on that stage. The truth was, I’d been in awe of her. I’d thought because she’d come out, everything would be OK, that we’d be together forever. I’d been a foolish kid who hadn’t realized how vulnerable she’d been. I needed to stand up for the women I loved, and before I understood my mistake, I’d lost her.

Hailey had stayed, but I sensed she didn’t entirely trust me to protect her anymore. I didn’t blame either of them. I knew all about the kind of pressure Ella’s family exerted on her, and Hailey had pretty serious childhood scars about trusting people, men especially.

I tried to fix it, worked to keep Hailey happy. I was desperate to contact Ella, even drove to her college to try and find her, but I didn’t know her new dorm room. I waited around three days, wandering campus, asking students if they knew Ella Stewart, until a security guard noticed and asked to see my school ID. Long story short: banned from campus for being a probable stalker. I texted her a million times. The last text I ever got from her was, “I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

I still had it on my phone. The first year I read it every day. That was also the year I drank too much and dropped out of community college. And also the year Hailey realized she was better off without me.

“I haven’t seen this in... Is that...she had this?” Hailey rubbed her eyes, still waking up. She carefully picked it up, inspecting it reverently. “I looked for this EVERYWHERE. I thought maybe in the move it had gotten into...”

“It’s just a bathing suit.” I lied. The first time the three of us were together, I’d taken that swimsuit off Hailey while Ella watched, undoubtedly either glowing with attraction or jealousy. Or both. Something more too.

“She bought it for me. The day we went shopping together.” Hailey held the fabric as though it were a relic from a lost civilization.

I didn’t tell her I knew. I’d egged Ella into asking Hailey out—the day I’d convinced her, Ella’s cheeks had gone bright pink and she’d given me a stream of nervous giggles and denials before she got her courage up. Even in a threesome, you sometimes savored the moments just between you and one other.

After Ella left, Hailey and I spent six months going round and round in our memories, going through the 102 stages of grief or whatever, bitterly assuring each other she would come back and then we would reject her. Or lying in bed all day, staring out the window, and in my case, developing a bit of a drinking problem—until every time we spoke, it cut like knives, the misery of living in the past. But we had spent so much time talking about her by then, it was all we had left.

As though Hailey remembered this, her face hardened. She shrugged as though she couldn’t care less. She didn’t let go of the swimsuit, though. It remained balled tightly in her hands, like she’d fight me if I tried to take it back.

She bit her lip, silent. Then gave up. “Tell me everything.”

I considered what I’d learned: the fiancé’s cheating, Ella’s broken martyr attitude, and the way nothing had changed between us when our bodies touched. Slowly, I recounted how I’d seen Ella through the window, one hand working madly between her legs while the other held Hailey’s swimsuit against her face. Hailey’s breathing went shallow, and her reaction drove home the realization: Ella had been fantasizing about us. She wanted us. She might sleep in my old T-shirt all the time, maybe she even forgot where she got it. But I didn’t think so. I thought Ella wanted us as badly as we wanted her.

“It was like she was waiting for me to show up.” And then, even though I knew I sounded like a stupid, desperate kid wishing on a star, I had to say it. “Hails, we can get her back.”

According to Hailey’s expression, that idea disgusted her, but I’d known her too long for that to fool me. I saw how her nipples showed themselves under the thin fabric of her nightgown, how her chest rose and fell, her neck and cheeks flushing. When I pressed my body against hers, a moan escaped her, and I wondered if she could still smell Ella’s perfume on my shirt.

“What if I don’t want that anymore?” Hailey’s eyes fluttered closed.

“You can spank her when we get her back,” I joked, but when my hand got into her panties, she was very slick. “Her fiancé has a side piece,” I whispered.

Hailey rocked against my hand. “Good. She deserves it.”

I almost laughed. Hailey was mad as a wet hen and totally turned on. “Ella knows about his girlfriend,” I added, and Hailey’s rocking sped up, her back arching.

I wasn’t sure how I ended up dirty-talking Hailey about Ella’s impending wedding, but the way Hailey was turned on got me like a sucker punch.

“I saw her through the window, hand down her pants, fucking herself. The whole time she was smelling your swimsuit bottoms. The boyfriend was downstairs sleeping like a baby, and Ella was up in her room, getting off to—”

Hailey gasped, her whole body going tight. I tried to pull down my pants to get inside her, but she had a death grip on my hand, keeping it moving against her clit. A second later, her pussy muscles contracted and released, pulsing against me. She made these helpless little mewling noises that sent shivers up my spine, pushing the back of her hand against her mouth to keep quiet. Roommates. Thin walls.

“She belongs with us,” I whispered as Hailey went tense against me, legs shaking. There was no downtime; the moment she’d recovered, she pushed my waistband down my hips, needing to go again.

I reached for the dresser drawer, groping for Hailey’s box of condoms. I’d need the extra layer after what I’ve been through tonight. As it was, I’d barely kept from coming all over her thigh like a newb.

* * *

When Hailey went inthat morning for work, I drove my stepdad’s car back to his place. Along the way, I did some serious thinking. Then I made some calls. The first was to the real estate agent who helped me buy the house for Mom and Don.

“Hi, this is Jack Walker. I was wondering if you have someone in the office you’d recommend for commercial real estate deals.”

It turned out they did.

“I’d like you to put together some information on Rolling Green Country Club—who owns it, how much it’s worth, and if the owners are willing to sell.”

The agent asked some questions, ballparked some dates, and let me know I’d need to come into the office and sign an agreement. The last thing I said before we ended the conversation was, “Sounds good. But here’s the thing—don’t use my name.”

This naturally caused a bit of backtracking, and the next thing I had to do was rope my bank into the loop to show that I wasn’t some stupid kid running a prank. That right there was fifteen minutes of conference-call hellos and greetings. I’d learned that recently; money sure changed people’s attitudes right quick. It was like that number in my account was a master key that answered any questions a person might have, changed all their responses to yes.

I didn’t love it. But every time I tried to get rid of that dumb-luck treasure, it just came back bigger.

Next, I called Theo Benedict, my friend since high school. The guy who successfully blackmailed me over that video of Hailey, Ella, and me together. The guy Ella probably would’ve married if it hadn’t turned out Theo was madly in love with a guy named Lucas.

“Jack?” Theo yawned into the phone. “Frick, I was gonna call you. You’ll never guess who I ran into the other day. Ella! Dude, she’s getting married.”

It was still a gut punch to hear it. “I know,” I managed. “That’s why I’m calling.”

“You missed the boat there. She is still fiiiiiinnnnnnne.”

“I know.”

“Did you get an invite?” As always, it was hard to tell if he was rubbing it in or just terrible socially. “Mine arrived yesterday. They’re doing it at the club, of course—”

“I need a favor.”

“Yeah, sure man. Anything.” Ever since he blackmailed us, Theo has approved every favor I’ve ever asked for. Even the one about crashing at his place in Las Vegas while I tried to lose all my money at the casinos.

“I want you to text Ella that tape you took back in the day.” I felt a little disgusted with myself, but I thought about Hailey last night. Ella belonged with us, and she needed a reminder of that fact.

“No way,” Theo said easily. “You send it.”

“She has my number blocked. Hailey’s too.”

Theo groaned. “She hated me forever for that. I don’t want her to hate me again.”

“After this, we’re square.”

Theo groaned. “For real? OK. I’ll do it as soon as we’re done here.”

“No, wait.” I got an idea. “I’ll tell you when to send it. And one more thing.”

“I thought we were even?!”

“After this, I’ll owe you.”

“I’m only agreeing because having a guy with literal millions owe me is good business sense. What is it?”

I told him.

“She’s gonna have me arrested!” Theo squawked.

It took several minutes of explaining before he calmed down. Which was good, because even though Theo knew about my money, I liked the hell out of the fact that he still wouldn’t do what I said until I convinced him.

* * *

Ella

“What happened to you?” Gabe asked the next morning in that tone only little brothers could pull off. I checked to make sure Mom and Dad weren’t around and flipped him the bird.

“Wedding stress,” I managed. “Wait until it’s your turn. You’ll feel me then.”

Instead of some joke about never getting married or whatever joking thing Gabe would usually do to deflect the tension, this time he gave me a look full of such pity that I bristled. I knew what he saw: I hadn’t slept a wink after Jack left, and I’d cried a lot. “If it’s that stressful, maybe reconsider.”

I cast my eyes down to the coffee and took a big swig, horrified. Swallowing it down, I said, “Gabe! What if Charlie heard you?”

“What if you heard me?” Gabe shot back.

“Where is this coming from?” I stealth whispered over the countertop. “I thought you liked Charlie.”

“I do. I mean, he’s fine.” Gabe seemed to lose his fiery indignation, unsure. But with a second to process what was happening, I realized I didn’t want him to stop yelling at me. Whatever this was, it felt real, not the facade that had grown between my brother and me since I’d been kicked out of the house five years ago. Even if it came out as anger, Gabe was taking the risk of reconnecting with me.

“But...?” I asked, leaving it open.

Gabe scowled at the counter. “I’m gay.”

I sucked in air. The most horrible thought came first: Dad’s legacy was going to be two kids he was ashamed of. Then disbelief: as far as I had heard or seen, Gabe had a string of girlfriends. Then understanding: he had probably learned a huge lesson when he’d watched Mom and Dad throw me out of the house, and that lesson had been to crawl to the back wall of the closet and stay there. After all, I’d at least been in college when I’d attempted to come out as bi. Gabe had still been a minor.

“Gabe...” I reached to hug him. He went tense, and I stopped. But then he seemed to reconsider and relaxed, letting me.

He had grown up so much since I’d left home, lost most of his high school lankiness, gotten sturdier somehow. He had come out in such a flat tone, so matter-of-fact, but as I held him, he drew a ragged breath.

“That’s good,” I said against his shoulder, stumbling to say the right thing. “Do they know?”

The question made him tense again, and I held my breath at how tenuous our relationship felt. Gabe shook his head. Guilt washed over me. If I had stayed true to myself, I could’ve blazed a path that would’ve helped my little brother. Or who knows. Maybe my parents would’ve believed I’d corrupted him and would hate me even more... Thinking that made me scared. If Gabe told them, they probably would think that. We’d both be kicked out despite all my work to get back into the family.

It was a pretty tense hug, both because of my thoughts and whatever was going on in my brother’s head. I tried to remember all the things I had wished to hear when I imagined telling people who I really was.

“I’m proud of you,” I said. “I’m glad you trusted me. I love you same as I always did, I just feel like I understand you better.”

With each sentence, his body relaxed against mine. With each word, my voice got a little hoarser. He squeezed me hard and stepped back.

“Dad’s not doing great. I would’ve told them, but I don’t know what it would do to him if I—”

“Of course,” I soothed, but in the back of my mind, I was also thinking about how Dad scared me so bad with his panic attack. “But you don’t have to tell him. It’s none of his business. You are allowed to be happy, however it suits you.”

Gabe laughed bitterly and my hackles went up. “Like you?” he scoffed.

I bit down on a sharp response. My eyes still burned from all the tears I’d shed last night.

“Sorry,” he said a half-second later, and he did sound sorry. “I saw what they did to you, had front-row seats. I overheard...” He swallowed hard. “I heard them talking one night, Dad saying maybe they should act as though you were dead. Mom talked him out of it. And I... I saw the bills one time, on Dad’s desk, for those places they sent you. I felt like the shittiest, weakest asshole for not standing up for you. I’m sorry, Ell.”

I bear-hugged him, squeezing him tight when he tried to push away. “You were just a kid.”

“So were you, Ella. I’m sorry. I should’ve been a better brother to you. But I...even then I knew who I was, and when they went off on you like they did, it scared the shit out of me.”

We were both properly sobbing then, me telling him over and over it was OK. When we finally wound down, we grinned stupidly at one another’s tearstained faces.

He did that thing he sometimes did when he was serious, where he looked first into one of my eyes and then the other, so his pupils danced a little, like he was trying to see all of me at once. “Charlie seems like a fine guy. And...I want you to be happy,” he said. “However that looks.”

“My ears are burning!” Charlie sang as he came in.

I gasped and Gabe pulled away from me, both of us looking guilty as sin. Charlie went straight for the coffeepot, not seeming to notice. I turned away and wiped my face.

“How’s my favorite bride in the world?” Charlie swung back around with his coffee cup and kissed my cheek in a perfunctory way. Perhaps feeling the wetness still there, he gave me a questioning look. “You OK?”

“Mmmmhmmm.” I nodded, smiling close-mouthed.

“Not coming down with something, are you?” Without waiting for a reply, he added, “Oh, I just saw your father in the study. He said to send you in.”

I motioned for Charlie to come with me down the hall, leaving my brother in the kitchen. “So, I invited Mary to the wedding,” I said quietly.

Charlie did a spit take, which I did not appreciate, especially considering how much Mom loved the wood floors. “Why would you do that?”

I shrugged, moving toward the study. “Because if you care about her, she should be part of your life. Oh,” I added as though it had just occurred to me, “and I want an open marriage.”

Charlie’s face went red, lip curling with anger. “You want to see other people?”

I raised an eyebrow at him and held it there until he either realized what a hypocritical ass he was being...or that I meant he could see Mary without objection from me.

“Who?” he demanded.

I kept my eyebrow at full mast, waiting for dear Charlie to connect the dots that he hadn’t told me about Mary until I’d found him out, and he was really in no position to bargain.

He got there. Eventually. Sighing, he gave a pantomime of a shrug. “Whatever my sweet Ella wants, my sweet Ella gets. As long as you keep it private. I do have an ego, you know.”

“Likewise.” Impulsively, I leaned in to kiss his cheek. This wasn’t a marriage made in heaven, but I also had hopes we could muddle through this mess together, making the best of it. As Charlie had said before, he needed me just as I needed him.

Are you sure you want to go through with this marriage?I almost asked him aloud. That was not a question you brought up five weeks before the wedding, after you’d signed legally binding contracts to pay for catering and flowers and... I thought of the cake. Or more accurately, my mind bounced from that idea right to Hailey. The need to see her again was so strong. Jack had said he would bring her with him when he came back. My heart thudded heavily. I didn’t know if that organ could take any more drama, but it sure seemed eager for it.

“Princess!” Dad poked his head out from the study.

“Can’t keep Dad waiting,” I said to Charlie as I excused myself.

“Want coffee, Mr. Stewart?” Charlie called down the hall, raising his cup as if my dad wouldn’t otherwise understand the question.

Dad ignored him.

* * *

When I got to thestudy, Dad was staring out the window—a pose he struck regularly at Rolling Green when he wanted people to know they were in for a serious discussion, possibly involving their firing.

He wore his favorite old robe, cinched across his waist, and since I’d first left this house, he’d shrunk maybe a whole inch, like people do as they age into grandparent land. His hair had been thinning when I’d lived here, but Dad had since adopted a comb-over that fooled no one. Still, he took care of himself and seemed quite formidable.

He seemed content to let me stand at the door until I felt awkward. Except I was a kid, not an employee, so I walked right in and gave him a hug. “Dadeeeee!”

Pride washed over me as he blushed, that stern exterior crumbling. Just like Dad was the big man at Rolling Green, I had always been his Princess, the one person able to foil his tough facade. Or at least, I had been his Princess until the summer with Hailey and Jack, when I’d mortified him in front of his employees, his community, and the place he’d staked his reputation as a pillar of our community. The club was basically an extension of who he was, everything he had worked all his life to become.

He hugged me back, and I felt with a bit of dismay how frail he seemed under his robe. Not sturdy and solid like he’d been my entire childhood. Definitely older and looking a bit more tired up close. Maybe I’d been too harsh about Dad’s pulling the health card to keep Gabe and me in line and there really was something wrong.

“What is it?” I asked as he let me go, and I meant it as a prompt, but it came out as if I were a little kid in trouble.

He smiled. Even after all these years, part of me still glowed under his approval—the place I’d held in his heart when I’d gotten straight As and started going to the salon with Mom, highlighting my light brown hair to gold. His puffed-up pride when I’d been the most popular girl in school, the perfect daughter who worked afternoons at the club, helping with new tech, bringing Rolling Green seamlessly into the future.

“I just wanted to tell you how...how happy I am,” he said, pausing midway through his sentence.

Not proud, like he used to say, but happy. Before I could wonder about the change, he turned back to the window, either watching the birds out in the warm early summer morning or perhaps studying his own ghostly reflection. I stood next to him.

Looks like a scorcher today,I did not say, although it did. I waited him out.

“I especially appreciate you and Charlie hosting your event at the club. Our clientele is very...family-oriented. Our year-over-year took a real hit the summer you... Well.”

He rotated his wrist, hand circling to indicate the unspeakable. I wasn’t his perfect daughter anymore, and I never would be. A marriage, a husband, a big celebration at Rolling Green—my faith that those things would erase the mark against me faded. What would make up for what I’d done—making him a grandfather? Because that was the last card I had to play after this.

As though sensing my despair, he added in a more upbeat tone, “What you’ve done, coming back here and hosting this huge event for everyone to see that our house is in order, that the legacy of the Stewarts at Rolling Green continues? That’s priceless. Everyone loves a family reunion, a return to traditional values. When people are reminded of the grand nature of the club, they’ll come back.”

“Dad, is Rolling Green in trouble?”

Dad made his eyebrows seesaw nervously, as though he didn’t want to say even though his expression was telling me everything. “Dad, how bad is it?”

“Well, my hope is that your wedding is a shot of energy right into the heart of the place, that this town remembers the club is where everyone wants to be. And if it doesn’t work, then it is at least one last hurrah for the place. Thank you for doing this, Princess.” He laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Your decisions have made your mother and me happy.”

I felt faint. Were we going to lose Rolling Green? For a moment, I was distracted by mad plans of taking the club over, rehabbing it with new updates, drawing in a younger crowd. But then the rest of what he’d said hit me.

“What about my happiness?” I asked in a small voice. The hand on my shoulder tightened into a squeeze.

“You’ll learn to be happy,” he said with the confident tone I’d believed my whole life. The one he’d used to say, “You will pass that test,” or “You’ll make head cheerleader,” or even, “You are going to go anywhere you want, kiddo, with that brain of yours and looks to boot.”

Maybe it was because of my talk with Gabe, but all I could think was: If I could learn to be happy, why couldn’t you have learned to be happy for me?