Chapter 18 Fun and Games
Chapter 18
fun and games
“Do I need a safe word?” Wes asked as Summer zip-tied their wrists together. She wasn’t holding his hand, just letting her wrist fall limp. But they were tied together for the next few hours, which meant she couldn’t escape a real conversation about that kiss and what it meant.
Like all the Russo women, she was dressed in a thrift-store wedding dress, complete with a train, tiara, and veil. Her shoes were red Converse, her hair in a ponytail that was invented for a man to grab and tug. His hands tingled just looking at the way it exposed the length of her neck. It was shocking how something as simple as a glimpse of a part of her that was usually covered could be a turn-on.
She had her contacts in today, and even though he liked the unobstructed view of her beautiful chocolate eyes, he missed the way her glasses were always perched on her nose, highlighting the smattering of freckles that had grown darker in the sun.
“I don’t know, maybe,” Summer said, side-eying her sister, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Never in the history of the infamous Russo Selfie Scavenger Hunt have we ever been tied together.” She looked pleadingly at her mom. “Is this necessary?”
“Last year, you two won in less than fifteen minutes. We figured it was time to up the challenge,” Blanche said, looking oh-so-innocent.
“Twinning!” Autumn shouted, giving a fist bump to outer space.
“Well, there will be no twinning this year,” Summer replied, but Autumn was already engaged in a PG-13 display of affection with her boyfriend. “Just winning, and we’re going to kick your butts.”
Autumn immediately broke off the game of tonsil hockey and stared Summer down. Her hands went to her waist, which jerked Randy into her. “How do you figure? I always carried you.”
Summer’s smile faltered a bit, and Wes tilted his head so that his lips were resting near her ear and whispered, “Don’t let her fool you. Every win you’ve ever accomplished has been because you are determined, passionate, and damn impressive. You’re one hell of a special woman. You don’t need a knight or your sister to fight your battles. You have yourself and you’re enough.”
She turned her head slowly until their mouths were practically lined up, and met his gaze. Her breath hitched. “You believe that?” she asked, as if none of the other men in her past had bothered to tell her what an amazing woman she was. It made him want to punch her ex in the nuts—Daryl Sanderson too.
“With all my heart.”
Her eyes were wide with gratitude and something akin to warmth. “Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to his lips briefly.
“You’ve got me cuffed, you’re in a wedding gown, and you’re staring at me like you want me to kiss you but you can’t even hold my hand. I’m getting mixed signals here,” he said, quietly so that only she could hear.
“My brain must be misfiring.”
Her blush told a different story. “Are you ready to say it yet?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, let me know when you are.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Autumn teased.
Summer turned to her sister and took a few confrontational steps forward, dragging Wes behind her. “About how we’re going to kick your backside! A billion-dollar algorithm says that Wes and I are the perfect match.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in algorithms?” Wes asked.
“Today I do.” She gifted him a smile that lit a fire in his chest. Then she twisted her hands to go palm to palm with his and linked their fingers before pumping their arms in the air. “Bring it, sis.”
As if on cue, both of their phones pinged letting them know there was a verified match within the vicinity. Letting them know they were a verified match.
Wes was starting to like this app. He also liked the fact that she hadn’t deleted hers. Because if she had, she wouldn’t have been able to snoop around his profile, which she definitely had. The app told him every part of his profile she’d clicked on. Which had been all of it.
They’d breached a wall last night. Not a physical one, but an emotional one, and he wanted to keep exploring. Oh, he wanted to keep kissing, but that would come in due time.
“All right,” Uncle Giuseppe said excitedly. Because he wrote the clues, he and Cecilia were sitting this one out and acting as referees. “I have your first clue. When you get there, another clue will be waiting. Line up at the start line, and when I finish reading the clue the race will begin. The first team to snap all the pictures will win.”
“Ready?” Summer asked, her eyes flickering with a joy and anticipation so contagious that he couldn’t help but smile back. He also couldn’t help but fall into them for a long moment, and when he surfaced something had shifted in his rib cage.
“Ready,” he said back, but somehow his gut told him he wasn’t just talking about the race. He was talking about something deeply more important.
Giuseppe cleared his throat and in a booming voice announced, “The first clue is: Go to the first place you saw the angels and strike a pose .”
It was as if a shot had rung out. Screaming and giggles erupted from the group, causing passersby to stare. Not that people weren’t already staring at the two generations of women in wedding gowns, their skirts pulled up to their shins and running shoes on, in the middle of old-town Mystic.
“A church?” Wes guessed.
“Shhh, and no, the old cinema downtown,” she whispered in his ear as if it were a matter of national security. “My dad took us all to see the Charlie’s Angels movie one summer. Let’s go!”
“The new one or the original?”
“You’re such a Brit. The original was a show, the movie was with Drew Barrymore and Lucy Liu.” She looked at the competition, who was disappearing around the corner, their veils flying like kites behind them.
“No time to jabber. We’re not going to lose this time.”
She took three steps, then came to a halt because he hadn’t moved.
“What are you doing? We’re going to lose!” she snapped. He could see the fierce competitiveness in her eyes, flickering like a bonfire with gasoline.
“You want to win? Then admit you kissed me first.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” He held his ground. It was bugging him that she was hot then cold. He didn’t want to be the mistake. That one word summed up his entire life. First with his dad and being the result of an affair. Then his ex, who’d said that their whole relationship was a mistake. He’d loved her enough to have proposed but everything he’d experienced was clearly one-sided.
She looked at the empty start line and sighed. “Fine. I got swept up in the moment.”
“You mean our meet-cute.”
“Yes, our meet-cute. And I kissed you. Happy now?”
He took a casual stroll forward. “After you.”
She lifted her hand to show the zip ties. “Really?”
He took one big step, which forced her to take two, and said mockingly, “Hurry up or we’re going to lose.”
It took them a minute or two to find their groove. With the height difference it made for a comical display of her tripping and him hunching down so as not to yank on her arm.
“Why do you have to be so tall?” she grumbled, going in the opposite direction to her family.
“Women usually call me tall, dark and handsome.”
“I’m not like other women.”
Didn’t he know it. And that was part of the problem.
“Do you even know where we’re going? You’re walking in the wrong direction.”
“I’m not the nine-time reigning champion for no reason. I know a shortcut. I know this town inside out,” she said with that smile that was as bright as a summer’s day.
And that’s when Wes realized they were still holding hands, running at a full-on sprint down the Main Street in Mystic. Racing by the brick-faced shops and streetside cafés with brightly colored awnings and hand-painted windows while laughing. Seagull cries mixed with the crashing of waves sounded in the background, and the salt in the air was so thick he could taste it. A cool ocean breeze came in off the water, and excitement pumped through his body in anticipation of what was to come next.
He hadn’t felt this free in years, and nor had he had so much fun. The last time he’d felt this connected to a group was when he’d played rugby at university. Since then it had been him and him alone. Even with his ex, he’d felt alone at times. And he’d never noticed until now just how isolating that experience had been. Even if she didn’t realize it, Summer was giving him a gift. The gift of companionship. And it felt good.
“In here,” she said, pushing open the door of Funky Book Junction. The bell on the door echoed throughout the store as she burst in, dragging him behind her. The scent of aging paper and incense greeted them, reminding him of the used bookstore back home where he’d spent every free hour perusing and reading when the clerk wasn’t looking. When he found a special one, he’d save up his money that he’d earn by mowing lawns and splurge. He still had his collection of Harry Potter books. They sat on a shelf behind his desk at his apartment.
“Summer Russo,” someone said in a scolding tone. “What have I told you about running through the store? The books aren’t going to get up and walk away.”
“Sorry, Ms. Louise.” Summer slowed to a brisk walk. “It’s the annual Russo Selfie Scavenger Hunt, and I’m in it to win it.”
“And you have a new partner I see.” Two eyes and a gray bun peeked over the counter. “A real-life Prince Humperdinck, it appears.”
“More like a Joe Fox,” Summer corrected. “An algorithm put us together,” she explained, as if that was a normal response.
Ms. Louise came out from behind the counter. She was about as tall as a middle-schooler, built like a fire hydrant, and had apple cheeks. Her muumuu was a shade of green that Wes needed sunglasses to look at, and she had on bright white orthopedic shoes. But that didn’t slow her down. She was by their side in a blink, jogging with them into the belly of the shotgun-style shop.
“Where can I get my hands on this algorithm?”
“It’s called RoChance, and it connects with matches in your vicinity. Supposedly perfect matches. But they’re still working out the glitches.” She side-eyed Wes.
“I am not a glitch,” he said defensively.
“If you don’t want him, I’d be happy to have a fun little glitch after I get off work,” Ms. Louise said, looking Wes up and down. “But I’m not looking for strings. Just thought I’d put that out there.”
“I’ll drop him off after we win the scavenger hunt,” Summer said, not slowing down.
“We can trade. I’ve got something you might be interested in. I found a signed first edition of Outlander .”
He felt Summer stop in her tracks. “What happened to keeping the pace?” Wes said.
“It’s a first edition,” she said, sounding conflicted. She looked at Ms. Louise and then at Wes. “What do I do?”
“Are you really going to risk losing for a book?”
“I’ve been looking for this book since I was sixteen.”
“Signed book,” Louise said. “And it will walk off the shelves by afternoon. I guarantee it. The Cool Hookers Book Club meets here at three.”
“Tick-tock tick-tock,” Wes said, tapping his watch.
“Any dog-ears?” Summer asked.
“Not a one.”
She looked up at Wes with a helpless and lost expression, and he wanted to be that knight in shining armor. “I’ll buy the book. Here’s my watch, it’s worth a hundred of that book. We’ll be back.”
“I’ll pay you back,” she promised, and this time it was him that stopped in his tracks.
Women always accepted gifts from him. Even expected them. But this woman didn’t want him for his money or what he could get her. She was holding his hand just because. So she’d called him a glitch, and maybe he was. But around her he felt as if someone had troubleshooted all the bullshit out of his life.
“Let’s just get that picture,” he said, taking a large step forward and opening the back door for her.
“We’ll be back,” she said to Ms. Louise. “Don’t you dare sell that book!”
The second they cleared the exit she took off like a rocket. “There it is, and Autumn and Randy are already there! Move faster.”
“Winning!” Autumn screamed as she snapped the selfie and took off eastbound, down Destiny Boulevard.
By the time they made it to the historic theatre, which had the original vertical CINEMA sign lit up like it was 1961 and Breakfast at Tiffany’s had just been released, they were both winded and laughing.
“Okay, strike a pose,” she said, and they both did their best Charlie’s Angels impersonation as he snapped the photo.
“A pretty great meet-cute if you ask me,” Wes said when she pocketed her phone. “Boy and girl racing around town, zip-tied together, in a wedding dress and suit, to win a plastic trophy.”
“I’ve read better,” she said primly.
He slid his arms around her waist, and damn she felt good there. He was going to have to thank Autumn for the heads-up. He loved seeing Summer off balance, and this zip-tie stunt had definitely thrown Summer off her game.
She was flustered being this close to him, and that brought him a perverse happiness. She was cute when she was flustered. It was as if her body was telling him what her words were not.
She shivered.
“You want to retract that statement?”
“No time, we’re off to the next stop. For all we know your false start put us in last. And we are not going to lose to Autumn.”
He realized just how important this was for her, and more than ever he wanted to be that guy for her. The guy who crossed the finish line with her. Who held her hand while she found her independence. “We aren’t going to lose, love.”
That earned him a big smile, so bright and affectionate it warmed him from the inside out. In fact, this whole thing reminded him of earlier times with his nonna, when she’d bring out the board games. They were too broke to go to the movies or other outings. Instead they did board games, puzzles, cards. And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this kind of fun with someone. Actually, it was the day before he’d left for private school on scholarship. The day he’d walked away from his childhood to become a man his mom could rely on, and break the cycle of poverty.
“Now, the next clue. We have to find it.”
“Look up,” Wes said, pointing to the marquee. He read, “ See a penny pick it up, and all day long you’ll have good luck .”
She took both of his hands and squealed. “The wishing well! It’s just around the corner.”
“Well then, we better get going,” he said.
With Summer as his tour guide, it took them less than three minutes to locate the fountain. And that was with her pointing out every nook and cranny that she’d spent time at as a kid. He could almost picture her in her pigtails, riding a bike and smiling at every person she passed.
It made Wes wonder what that kind of childhood must have felt like. If the one week they spent here every summer had made up for the hours Frank worked, the bankruptcies, the loss of security. Although the Russos were one of the closest families he’d ever met, he saw the scars in Summer. The ones she tried to keep hidden from her loved ones.
The ones he and his bookstore were bringing back to the surface.
“It’s said that when you make an offering to the deities and make a wish with a pure heart, then kiss the penny, that your wish will come true,” she explained as they approached the fountain, which was overflowing with pennies.
People’s dreams, he realized.
When was the last time he’d allowed himself to dream of something that didn’t involve stock options or spreadsheets? It had been so long he wasn’t even sure what to wish for. Then he looked down at Summer and knew what he’d wish for.
Another kiss.
He reached into his pockets and came up empty. How ironic was that. He ran a billion-dollar company, drove a car worth more than some people’s houses, but when it came to something as simple as a penny for a wishing well he didn’t have what was required.
“I don’t have a penny,” he heard himself say.
“I’ve got this.” She pulled out a handful of pennies from a special coin purse in her fanny pack and he chuckled.
“You come armed with wishes?” Of course she did. She believed in fate and meet-cutes and the kind of love that most people didn’t have the capacity to provide. People like him.
“A true romantic is always armed with wish-making powers,” she said, as if it were fact. And maybe in her life it was a fact. But not in his.
She placed a penny in his palm, and he wasn’t sure what to say. She was slowing down the race to make a wish with him.
“Now kiss it and throw it into the fountain. And don’t forget to make a wish.”
He did as he was told, even closing his eyes like she had. Then he threw it into the water and watched it disappear into the mosaic of copper and silver. And as if by some magic, his penny landed directly on top of hers.
“Wow,” she said. “What are the odds?”
“What are the odds?” he repeated. “What did you wish for?”
She gasped. “That’s not how wishes work.”
“I’ll go first. I wished for my brother and I—”
She pressed her hand over his mouth. “Don’t. You’ll jinx it. But it’s sweet that it’s about your brother.”
“Did you just call me sweet?” he mumbled against her hand.
“Maybe.”
He took another penny, locked eyes with her, and kissed it and tossed it in. She visually swallowed. “What did you wish for?” she asked, breathless.
“That’s not how wishes work. And I don’t want to jinx this one.”
“Now you want to go all quiet on me?”
He cupped her hips and stepped closer, and then raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “Sometimes you can speak without saying a single word. The question is, are you listening?”
“Oh my god!” Autumn said, breaking the moment. “How did you get ahead of us? Randy, they’re ahead of us! I knew we didn’t have time to go to RandyLand.”
“There’s always time for RandyLand.”
Wes grabbed her by the hand. “We’re ahead of you because we’re going to win. Come on, love. Where to next?”
“Where else but the wedding chapel. It is tradition to end there.” She looked down at her dress and smiled. “It always ends at the place where two generations of love were cemented. Now say cheese!”
Summer handed Wes a bow tie that was tacked to the wall.
“Let me put this on so we can take the final picture,” she said, reaching up and securing the silk around his neck, while his own hand dangled from the zip tie. It brought her so close her scent enveloped him like the salty air, and damn she smelled good. Like hot summer nights and the romance section of a library.
Between fundraisers and formal corporate events, he knew how to tie a bow tie with one hand restrained behind his back, but he would rather pretend not to know so he could get her fingers on him. Interesting, since he never liked to admit that he couldn’t do something. But he couldn’t seem to get close enough.
“Your hand is in the way,” she said, trying to swat it away but finding it difficult since they were tied together.
“What do you suggest? Cutting off my wrist?”
“If it would help, then yes.” She looked up at him with a teasing smile. And thrift-store dress or not, she looked beautiful.
“I bet this isn’t how you imagined your wedding,” Wes said, looking around the cozy seaside church. Stained-glass windows portraying stories from the Bible spanned twenty feet up the wall from the wainscoting to the ceiling. The pews were few, but made of hand-crafted mahogany. And the A-frame roof made this neighborhood church feel warm and welcoming.
“Why do you say that?” Her hands moved with speed as she looped the silk around itself.
“Well, it’s so small. I imagined you’d want a big event, hundreds of people, to pay witness to Cupid’s big moment.”
“Actually, I want to get married here, where my parents and grandparents did. And I’d want a small beachside reception at the beach house with my family and closest friends.”
She was a never-ending surprise. Every woman he’d ever dated looked at weddings like a trophy in order to outdo their friend with the biggest event. On the other hand, this woman wanted to win a dollar-store trophy.
“What about you? I imagine you’d want the fanfare,” she said. “A loafer-required event.”
He chuckled and her delicate fingers brushed his Adam’s apple, which sent a jolt of electricity straight to his groin. “I never got close enough to plan the actual wedding, but my ex wanted the whole shebang.”
Still focused on the task, her gaze was on his tie, but he could sense her awareness of their proximity. “To me, love is the whole shebang. I don’t need to prove it to anyone except my partner.”
“And how would you prove it?” He wanted to know because he’d never had a role model for what healthy love looked like.
“Romance is the everyday nurturing of love.”
That made sense, since she was a born nurturer. Not that he was a guy who needed to be nurtured. In fact, he’d built his life around being self-sufficient, created a world where he needed no one. But coming from her, it sounded nice.
“How about you? You and your ex were engaged?”
“We were.” But then his company had been struggling, and then his dad had died and he’d been needed in the US, and his fiancée’s love apparently didn’t allow for being broke or different time zones.
And if that wasn’t a bucket of cold water on this situation. Wes was leaving. Maybe not next month, but the plan had always been to open the store in Ridgefield and Los Angeles and then go home and run the company from London. He had no business pursuing anything with this woman who’d already been burned before. He didn’t want to be the wash-and-repeat for her.
He’d already caused her enough problems. Problems that could tank her company. Problems that a week ago he didn’t give a shit about. But he did now that he knew more about the woman behind the bookstore war.
He was so lost in thought, in the reality of what his business could cost her, he didn’t realize that she was done with the tie and staring at him with concern. She gently tugged his hand. “Are you okay?”
He bent at the knees to get her in line of sight. “Actually, no. I wanted to say sorry.”
Confusion furrowed her brow. “For what?”
“For all the stress that’s waiting for you back home. I know that most of it comes from the fact that I decided to open up my bookstore next to yours,” he said quietly.
She took both of his hands. “You didn’t know.”
That shift behind his rib cage became more prominent.
“We should probably snap the picture,” she said, but neither of them moved. They were both too caught up in the moment of youthful freedom and warm summer days. The longer they stood there, the hotter the air between them grew.
She scooted closer and so did he. His thumb was rubbing the inside of her wrist, and she lifted their attached hands and opened her hand so that they were palm to palm and then she laced her fingers between his.
“But I did,” he went on, hoping that what he was about to admit didn’t ruin all the ground they’d covered in the past few days. “I knew there was a bookshop on the block. I just didn’t care.”
Instead of anger, her face went soft with uncertainty. “Do you care now?”
“Very much. But I don’t know how to fix it.”
“That you care is all that matters to me.”
He lowered his voice, which came out rough like gravel. “I care.”
His eyes flashed to her lips, which was fine because hers were doing the same. But it was the dreamy look in her gaze that stirred up something old and painful in his gut.
He was leaving. Period. And she was staying. Period. And as much as he wanted this to happen, needed it to happen, there was no way this could work. Yet, here they were, dressed like a happily wedded couple, about to seal the deal with a kiss.
He looked at her looking up at him and he could see the warmth in her eyes, and the longing for something real. And if there was one thing Wes wasn’t it was the real deal. Not when it came to relationships. His past confirmed that over and over.
“Wes,” she whispered, placing a hand on his chest.
“What happened to this being a bad idea?”
“You happened. You’ve shown me parts of you that I didn’t know existed. Parts I connect to.”
He placed his hand over hers. “You were right the first time around. This is a bad idea.”
Hurt and confusion filled her eyes and he felt like shit. He wanted to say it was him and not her, but just then the doors to the church burst open.
He took a step back.
“Isn’t that sweet,” Blanche said from the doorway to the church.
“I bet we can be sweeter,” Frank said, with so much love in his voice Wes felt like he was watching a moment made for just the two of them. He looked back to Summer, who was looking everywhere but at him.
Frank held out his arm and Blanche took it, and they slowly made their way down the aisle, walking as if they were at their wedding. All that was missing was a priest and the organist.
Summer narrowed her eyes. “It’s a ruse!”
“What?”
“They’re being sneaky and trying to blind us with their love. Hurry up and pose.”
Wes looked back at the perfect couple and he couldn’t believe his eyes—they started running toward the altar.
“They’re going to win!” Summer said.
“Not on my watch.”
Wes didn’t even hesitate. He flung Summer over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, his zip-tied hand clamping down on her ass, and sprinted. Around the pews, up the aisle, and sliding across the altar.
Then he grabbed Summer’s phone and aimed. And that’s how he ended up carrying his bride over the altar and snapping a picture of him cupping her bridal-ed ass.