17. Van
Van
F or the past decade, I had slept alone. Sure, there was the odd one-night stand who overstayed her welcome and a few friends-with-benefits situations that ended terribly, as they almost always do. But I was used to my space while sleeping, the full reign of my bed, and complete control of the blankets.
But the moment I woke, I knew she was missing. You would have thought waking up beside someone would feel wrong, but it was waking alone that left me bereft.
A quick glance around the room showed me she took her dress but left her underwear. Whether that was for me to find or if she couldn’t find them while she absconded, I couldn’t say.
She had only been in my life for the season. I had lived thirty-two years without her, but I missed her.
I brought the pillow she was on to my face and breathed it in. Breathing in the faint scent of roses and sunshine that was so innately her.
I dropped the pillow. What was I doing sniffing pillows? What kind of man was she making me? We had sex one time. One. And she was ripping down all my wards.
I didn’t fuck for keeps until she came around. And I sure as hell never fucked without a condom.
While I meant what I said to her the night before, nothing about us felt fake anymore.
I tried reaching out, but my messages were returned with short answers. She wasn’t avoiding me completely but also wasn’t engaging. Minutes ticked by and then hours, and I was getting little more than a one-word response.
So, this is what it feels like to have a woman ignore you.
It was an unfamiliar sensation. Ordinarily, if a woman showed no interest in me, I would accept that as it was. No need to play games when plenty of other women were out there.
But that was before Summer. Before our night together. She had me pillow-sniffing, sappy poem-appreciating. Sucker.
And to top it off, Summer wasn’t playing hard to pique my interest. She wasn’t the sort. That night at the party, she was forthright—bold, even. There were no games to be played. Somehow, her genuine disinterest only made my thoughts of her more rabid.
Running my hand down my face, I got up, grateful that I had to work. Maybe the distraction would be good for me.
At the stoplight, the song changed. A familiar tune. Summer and Savvy were singing along to it at one point during the trivia night. The song was one I had probably heard a hundred times before, but all I could think about was the way her hair brushed her shoulder as she leaned forward to write an answer, her smile curving up a little more on the right side. The way her two bottom front teeth were slightly crooked. How her hand fit into mine and the way her body felt beneath me.
I was well and truly fucked over this woman.
A horn blared behind me, and I startled, glancing up to see that I had missed the green light. The guy behind me flipped me off, but I ignored him.
To my right was Garden of Eden Nursery.
I still had thirty minutes before I was expected at work.
My mom had mentioned her geranium died. Realizing she could use a replacement, I decided to take a quick peek at what they had to get my mind back to what mattered.
Only it wasn’t my mom I was thinking about fifteen minutes later as I hefted a large potted bush up to the register. Really, how could I have refused when I passed the pink blooms, with their rich scent? Perfect buds matched the same shade as Summer’s cheeks as she came the night before. Ignoring the hefty price tag, I bought it along with my mom’s plant before I could decide if it was a bad idea.
My morning went slowly, planning meetings, checking on the progress of projects, and having to fix a new employee’s mistake. By lunch, I had told myself that my obsessive thoughts all morning were nothing more than a postcoital hangover.
Not that I never had that before.
But then I glanced at the fun-fact calendar, which read, A snail can sleep for three years .
I desperately needed to see her.
The hotel was only a ten-minute drive from work. I could pop over and say hi, couldn’t I?
She had told me she would get so wrapped up in work that, sometimes, she’d forget to eat until five p.m. and would become ravenous.
I couldn’t have that.
Ignoring the little voice in my head telling me it was crossing a line to see her at work, I made my way downtown. Parking, as always, was a pain, with the bright summer sunshine bringing out all the tourists to the historic waterfront.
As I got out of the car, I glanced back at the rosebush in the back of my truck. Women like flowers, don’t they? I snapped a bud off the bush and tucked the stem into my pocket.
On the walk from my thirty-minute parking spot to the hotel, I stopped in one of the many coffee shops lining the front street and grabbed a chicken avocado sandwich and a lemon sparkling water.
A young woman with dark hair was behind the front desk of the hotel, circling a few things on a map for the middle-aged couple before her.
Standing back with Summer’s lunch in hand, I wondered if this was the wrong move.
I could tell her I wanted to do this because that’s what a fake boyfriend would do, but I’d be lying.
The older couple left, and the young women turned to face me. “Hello. Welcome to The Ridgewood Inn. Checking in?”
“Uh, no.” I set the lunch on the high counter. “Is Summer here?”
A smirk replaced the woman’s customer-service smile. “She is. Can I tell her who’s asking?”
“Van. I brought her lunch, I’m her—”
What?
The woman smirked. “I’ll call her. She’s in with our event coordinator, Imogen, right now.”
The woman picked up the phone, her voice sing-songy. “Summer, there is someone out here who needs to see you.”
She nodded before lowering her voice. “Just someone. You better hurry.” She hung up and flashed me a winning smile. “She’ll be out in a minute. I’m Lucia, by the way. Summer’s talked about me, I’m sure.”
With an unfamiliar nervousness rising in me, I twitched a smile and nodded.
What was Summer doing to me that I would be nervous? Summer must have mentioned me for her coworkers to act so sly.
The click of heels on the marble floor sounded and then there she was. Her light hair was swept up in a tight twist at the base of her neck. A crisp white button-down was tucked into a tight black skirt. Glasses sat on top of her head.
Summer was beautiful in her little sundresses, ripped jean shorts, and oversized T-shirts. And, of course, gorgeous in nothing but the moonlight through my window. But nothing could have prepared me for professional Summer, buttoned down and prim.
She was a wet dream come true.
When she caught sight of me, she stopped in her tracks, her eyes large.
“Van, what—” She glanced from me to Lucia behind the desk, then back again.
I jostled the to-go box in my grip. “I wanted to make sure you got lunch.”
“That’s very—um . . .”
I could tell I had surprised her. What was she thinking I would do after she left me in the middle of the night? Was the night before not a sign that something had shifted between us? I told her how I felt, yet she still left me—well, maybe my words weren’t enough. I’d have to show her.
“Why don’t you show me your office while you eat? I’m sure Lucia could spare you for ten minutes.”
“Thirty,” Lucia called out behind the desk.
Summer seemed to snap out of her stupor, glaring at Lucia, then turning her attention to me. “Ten. I have to call our maintenance man. A guest is complaining about the faucet in—”
“Room 207. I’ll call him now.”
“Aren’t you efficient?” she grumbled as she keyed in the code on the doorknob and ushered me in.
Her office was a small cube, with little decoration.
She blushed. “I haven’t had the time to decorate. Been opening a hotel and then running it, you know.”
“Well, here, you can put this on your desk.” I handed her the bloom, which she took delicately, rolling the thorny stem between her fingers.
“You got me a flower?”
I wasn’t going to admit yet that I had, in fact, bought the whole plant with her in mind.
“I saw it and thought of you.”
A softness caressed her face before disappearing.
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” I motioned to her head.
She touched her hair and laughed. “Oh, these are blue light glasses. They reduce eyestrain.” She took them off, tossing them on top of her desk. After pulling the sandwich from its eco container, she took a big bite and hummed in appreciation before saying, “I didn’t even know how hungry I was until I started eating.”
“You need to keep up your strength.”
She took another healthy bite and narrowed her eyes.
Leaning forward, I placed a hand on her knee. “If you close the door, I bet I could get you off in five minutes.” I wiggled my brows.
She frowned and swallowed before setting the sandwich back in the container. “Absolutely not. This is my place of work, Van. I’m not going to have sex with you here.”
“Who said sex? I bet I could slip my fingers up that tight little skirt of yours and find you ready. Tell me I’m lying, Sunshine.”
I smirked as she crossed her legs and glowered at me. Reaching forward, I grabbed a little piece of bacon that had fallen out of her sandwich and popped it in my mouth. “Are you saying the orgasms I give you aren’t worth it?”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and her glare softened.
I could tell she was imagining the night before.
Expression hardening, she blinked. “It’s not happening here. First of all, you wouldn’t like me if I were the kind of girl who would shirk her responsibilities like that. And second, no orgasm, no matter how earth-shattering, is worth my professional reputation.”
I considered her and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“So, if you don’t want to fool around, tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?” I asked as she chewed.
Her cheeks full, she paused, her jaw frozen in place.
Her big blue eyes reminded me of an old-time cartoon, and I could hear the tink , tink , tink with every blink.
Swallowing, she took a big swig of her water, then delicately placed it on her desk. “Um. I haven’t been.”
“What did I tell you about lying?” I cocked my head and waited.
She set the rest of the sandwich back in its cardboard container and closed the top slowly. Wiping her hands on the little recyclable napkin, she pursed her lips. “What do you want me to say, Van? I’m not sure what you expected me to do the next morning. Spend the night? Make you eggs and bacon in the morning, like some nice little girlfriend? You never asked me to stay.”
“And you never said you were leaving. I woke up alone.”
“How is that different from every morning before it?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it, processing her words.
She had a wall up inside her. Anyone could see that. Giving her sweet declarations would only cause her to shut down further. There were so many things I wanted to say but to do so would give away a part of me best kept guarded. So, I said the only things I could.
“I wanted you there. Want you there.”
She shook her head at me, her lips pressed in a thin line. “You said that you needed a fake girlfriend. I did that for a bit, and it was fine, I guess. But now—this is all getting confusing, and the last thing I need right now is some man in my life, confusing me.”
“I’m not trying to confuse you. I want—”
What did I want? I wanted her in bed at night, to talk to her every day. When she was gone, I missed her. I was willing to give her more than offered others. Couldn’t she see that?
“Listen, I don’t know what you think is going on here, but you don’t need to bring me flowers and sandwiches. I’m not sure why you’re trying so hard with me.” She eyed me skeptically. “Should I not be?”
“In my experience with men, they only act this way to get what they want.”
I tilted my head to the side. “And what is it you think I want? We already slept together. If I just wanted sex, I had that last night.”
She threw up her hands. “We can’t get emotions involved and only want—”
“Who said I don’t want emotions?”
Her eyes flashed dangerously, and she scoffed, pointing at me incredulously. “You! You told me, I don’t do girlfriends. I’m taking you at your word. If you want to have fun together, sure, we can do that. Just don’t make me think there’s more when you aren’t capable of that. Don’t bring me food and fucking roses and come to my work looking handsome and smelling good when you aren’t capable of more.”
Sitting back in my chair, I crossed my arms. “I said I don’t do girlfriends because, up until a month ago, I didn’t. I never said I wasn’t capable of them. It may have been a while since I was in a serious relationship, but that doesn’t mean the mechanics of it have changed.”
When she wiped a hand over her face, a tendril of hair fell from her twist, skimming her cheek.
My fingers itched to tuck it behind her ear. To pull her face to me. To kiss away whatever this frustration was in her.
“What am I supposed to do with that speech, Van?”
Sadness laced her voice.
“Whatever you want. I can’t force you into anything. We both know that. You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”
She cupped her face in her hands, and I thought she was covering tears, but her eyes were clear. Conflicted, but clear. No, Summer wasn’t the sort of woman to cry over me—or any man.
“But you also deserve someone who will go to any length for you.”
“Is that an offer?” she asked with a snort.
“Maybe? Is it so hard to believe that I would?”
“Yeah, men like you don’t.”
“Why do you think you know what kind of man I am when you refuse to get to know me? Huh? You told me once, when someone shows you who they are, believe them. Is there anything I have ever done to show you I’m not completely serious about you?”
“Well, no, but—”
I raised a brow, silencing her. “We aren’t liars, are we? I told you yesterday on the boat. I won’t lie to you, and I expect the same from you. So, when I tell you that you make me feel things I know are dangerous, believe me.”
“Dangerous for who?” she murmured, her eyes flickering to mine.
“Anyone in my way, to get what I want.”
“And what do you want, Van?”
Her words were softer, lower.
She rested a hand on my chest as she leaned forward.
“I want to own you. I want to spend hours, days, weeks savoring the taste of you on my tongue and the heat of your skin as you move beneath me. But more than your body, I want all of you. To possess every little thought in your head, pull them apart, and break them down until there is no you or me, just us.”
“Van, I”—she hesitated, closing her eyes as if summoning courage—“I don’t need to tell you I have a hard time trusting people.”
I nodded, a tenuous hope growing.
If I were to have stopped her, she may not have had the courage to keep going.
“You can trust me. Truly.”
The deepest sorrow lined her eyes when she opened them.
“Truly?”
“Come to dinner with me.”
She quirked a brow. “A work dinner?”
“No, a date. An actual date, just you and me. No one else. Tonight, seven.”
Conflict passed over her face as she bit her lip.
“I don’t know . . .”
“Or tomorrow—if that works better.”
“You’re determined, aren’t you?”
I flashed her a smile. “When it comes to getting what I want, you’re damn right I am.”
“Okay.”
Standing, I reached forward, helping her to her feet.
“Can I—” I tensed my jaw, oscillating between asking and leaving without a word.
It had been hours since I had last seen her. Too long to not feel her skin under my fingers, to not smell the roses and sun of her hair. As a man deserted, I would take this refuge in her.
I swallowed. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Van, I’m at work.”
I stepped closer, taking the evasive strand of hair and curling it around my finger as I cupped her chin. Her eyes widened as I leaned in closer. “I’m going to kiss you because I can’t stand one more moment without your lips on mine.”
My name was her agreement and then her lips were against mine, the soft curve of her body in that white button-down and black skirt pressing against me. My tongue traced the seam of her lips, and I allowed my hand to wander down to her ass, grabbing a handful and pulling her to me.
It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was the promise of more later.
As I pulled away, I tucked that lock of hair back behind her ear. “Tonight or tomorrow?”
Her cheeks pink, she blinked at me as lust filled her eyes. “Tonight.”
As I left her small office with a spring in my step, I sent Lucia a jaunty wave.