18. Summer
Summer
T he Boathouse was a local favorite in a local town. Situated on a large pier, the waterside tables boasted floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the narrows of the Salish Sea and the hourly appearance of the Seattle ferry. Seafood restaurants were common, but The Boathouse was one of the nicest in the county.
On sunny days, people would leave their boat at the private dock and come up the metal grated walkway to dine on Pacific salmon, Dungeness crab, and oysters from Hood Canal.
Work ran late when a guest kept me for twenty minutes to talk about the time she saw JFK Jr. at the local Italian restaurant in 1991. I had to rush home to change.
The quick effort must have been good enough because, when Van showed up at my door twenty minutes later, he stepped back and let out a low curse and a big grin.
Cut in a sweetheart neckline, the dress had a fitted waist that flared out just above my knees. The blue patterned fabric reminded me of something from the old-time movies Autumn loved to watch. The dress code was almost always casual, so I had little opportunity to break out my finer things. It was a running joke in our group that, sometimes, it was hard to tell who was homeless or who was trendy. It was the birthplace of grunge, after all, and with the cloud covers and nine months of rain, wearing a rain jacket over a hoodie and a mustard-colored beanie was the norm. Dressing up was putting on your nice performance fleece vest.
Seeing the look in Van’s eyes made me glad I erred on being overdressed.
On the drive there, he grabbed my hand, our fingers entwined. When I asked to change the music, he told me to turn on whatever I wanted. He asked me questions about my favorite colors, foods, and memories. We talked of my dad again, about London, about childhood pets, and about sports I had tried and failed at.
When I told a long rambling story about the hotel, he laughed at the hijinks of when a housekeeper found a snake and how the guest had tried to hide it from us by placing it inside a nightstand. At the restaurant, he made me wait in the truck until he could get the door for me. I never had someone do that for me.
As he helped me down from his truck, he brought the back of my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.
For a moment, I felt just like Beatrice with Viscount Rodolphe in my romance book.
He slipped the hostess a tip, asking for a waterfront table.
I thought that was only for the movies.
Seated across from each other, he insisted I pick the wine, letting me know I had better taste than he ever did.
Halfway through the first glass of a local Sauvignon Blanc, I envisioned future dates we could have. I was never a big dreamer—that was for Autumn and Devin. They could build worlds in their minds, create scenarios, and picture futures. Never me. I wasn’t going to sit there and let my imagination take me to such lengths as marriage and babies—but more dates like this? That, I could handle.
We ordered our food, and when it came, we realized we didn’t need to get three appetizers and two full meals.
Van took it in good spirits, offering to send all the leftover crab cakes home with me for my dad, knowing they were his favorite from an offhand remark I made.
We were halfway done with our meal when the door clanged open on the other side of the restaurant and a group walked in, then sat at the bar.
I stiffened, my lips tightening into a narrow line.
No, no, no. This could not be happening. I was having such a wonderful night.
I should’ve looked away from them. It was obvious I was blatantly staring, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the man who had violated my trust and violated my wonderful date.
Tentatively, Van set his left hand on my arm.
Instinctively, I flinched away to fold my hands together.
“You okay?” he asked, following my line of sight to the group.
The three men and two women looked completely normal, but one was the devil incarnate.
Returning my gaze to Van’s, I blinked, hoping I could conceal my heightened panic.
I tapped my nails together and smoothed them over the hem of my dress, confident that my smile didn’t quite match my eyes. “Totally.”
The cool wine was suddenly too sweet on my tongue as I gulped down the rest of my glass.
“I have to, um—be right back.”
Luckily the chair didn’t shriek an embarrassing screech as I pushed off from the table and rose.
In my heels, I hobbled to the bathroom.
While I wouldn’t risk my makeup enough to splash water on my face, I could at least hyperventilate in the privacy of a stall before figuring out my next step.
Plopping down on the toilet seat, I studied my toes peeking out of my nude wedges. They were in desperate need of a pedicure. Maybe I could talk Autumn into going to the nail salon with me, even if they use nonorganic materials.
What were the chances that Cory would show up at the same bar as me and Van?
Was he going to confront me?
Did I have too much wine?
Someone walked into the bathroom, and under the stall door, I saw small feet in gold strappy sandals trot to the sink.
Well, now I’m not coming out until she goes into the other stall.
That was basic bathroom etiquette.
I counted to ten, then thirty. She was still there, not moving an inch.
Time was up. I couldn’t sit on this toilet all night. Van was waiting for me.
I pulled the door open, and Kodi looked at me.
Holding a tube of bright red lip gloss, she had only done her bottom lip.
She paused, setting the tube down. “Hey, I know you.”
Gulping, I joined her at the sink.
It was that or retreat into my toilet fortress.
The water was cool on my hands, and I watched as my fingers laced under the stream, the foam from the soap washing away.
“I’m not sure—”
“No, I never forget a face. You work at that hotel my fiancé and I were looking at. We were there a month ago. We thought it might be cute, but you guys were too small. Cory said nothing but the best for me , and, of course, my parents want to invite, like, two hundred people.”
I gave her a weak smile. “Weddings can be like that.”
“I was looking at the garden reserve, but it’s impossible to get an email back from there.”
“Oh, call and ask to speak to Pam. She’s the coordinator. She’s very old school and doesn’t believe in email. Or texts. But she’ll call you back if you leave a message. And if you’re looking to cut costs, I know their Friday and Sunday weddings are a fraction of the price.”
I wasn’t sure what came over me, likely the years of customer service.
Clasping her hands together, Kodi jumped, her chunky heels whacking the floor. “Thank you! That is so helpful. You don’t even know.”
Before I knew what was happening, her arms were around me, pinning mine to my sides, as she encased me in her lingerie store scent.
“Don’t mention it.” I pulled an arm free to pat her half-heartedly on the back.
She beamed at me as she pulled away. “I’m so glad because this wedding is getting expensive. I have my job with Dr. Christian and, of course, my custom tumblers—”
“I love tumblers. I need to order one for my cousin’s wife. She’s expecting in a few months.”
This was my in. I wasn’t sure if she read the proof I had sent a few days before.
Some women will stand by their partners. But if I could direct her to them, maybe she would leave him.
“Give me the name, and I’ll order one tonight.”
She showed me her online shop, and I looked it up on my phone, then showed her that I found it.
When she got to the door, she held it open for me to step out before her.
I didn’t want to like her, but I did. For the first time since planning this scheme, I felt guilty. Kodi didn’t deserve to be caught up in that.
I hesitated.
Should I tell her?
Blurting out that her fiancé was a lying, cheating asshole in the middle of a high-end seafood restaurant wasn’t the best idea. But she deserved to know. No, she’d check her email that very night. I was sure of it.
“Nice chatting with you,” she called out, waving at me.
As she reached Cory, his eyes shot straight at me, and his jaw tensed.
I couldn’t do much to dodge him. Might as well have gotten a little dig in.
“It was great talking with you, too. Remember what I told you, okay? Good luck with everything. You’re going to need it.” I gave her an exaggerated wink.
Red blotches formed on Cory’s throat and crept up to his ears.
He leaned over, whispering something at Kodi, then got up and stalked toward me.
As he passed, he hissed, “Get the fuck in here, Summer.”
Kodi was facing away from us, talking to someone at their table.
Rolling my eyes, I followed him into an alcove. My arms crossed, I glowered at him. “What?”
“Why are you talking to my fiancée?”
Keeping my face impassive, I flicked my eyes between Cory and Kodi. I laid a hand on my chest and let out a shocked huff of air. “What? I can’t make new friends? Isn’t that what you asked me for at the hotel? You wanted me to be friendly, right?”
“Don’t talk to her.”
“Why not? Are you afraid of what I might say, Cory? Scared to see what she might do if she knew the real you?”
“You don’t know a fucking thing about me.”
I snorted. “You’d be surprised what I know.”
“Stop being such a bitch and leave me alone.”
“Oh, name calling—I’m wounded, really. You’re so mature.” I stuck out my bottom lip, feigning pity.
The brightening color on his neck was hilarious.
“At least I have someone. There’s no hope for a crazy, raging cunt like you.”
“Oh, trust me, there are plenty of people who would love this. What did you call me, a raging cunt? For the right person, I can be very nice. Some might even say I’m as sweet as Candy .”
I allowed the word to hang between us, quirking a brow, watching the realization dawn on him.
His face turned from pink to red to puce. “You—You—You . . . What have you been doing to me?”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about?”
“Yes, you do. The emails and phone calls, my neighbors won’t talk to me anymore. Some kids egged my house the other day and called me a dog abuser.”
“Oh, dear. That sounds serious. You should get in front of that before it does lasting damage to your reputation. This is a small town, you know.” I raised a brow in mock sympathy.
“My Facebook got hacked. It took me weeks to get back into it.” His words were spewing out of him. His hand shot out, grabbing onto my elbow and twisting it hard. “Has it been you all along?”
I tried to yank his hand off me, but his grip was too tight, nerve pain shooting up my fingers. “Let me go,” I hissed.
Cory dug his nails into my arm, little half-moons of red along my bare skin. “Admit it. You’re the one who’s been fucking with me.”
I twisted and pulled, but he, stronger than I expected him to be, wouldn’t let me go.
“I’m not telling you anything. But whatever you have going on, I’m glad. Sounds like what you deserve. Now, let me go.”
We struggled for a moment, and I was about to yell when a voice said, “She said let her go.”
Van stood in front of us with my purse in one hand. His jaw was tight as he stared at where Cory was gripping my arm.
“Stay out of this—”
“I told you to get your hands off her.” Van wrenched Cory’s hand off my elbow in a move so quick I couldn’t understand.
Cory was left kneeling, clutching his wrist to his chest. “What the fuck, man. This isn’t your business.”
“Not my business? What kind of man puts his hands on a woman? Even if I were a stranger, you’d still be on the floor.” Van hissed, towering over Cory with a malicious glint in his eyes. “But I’m not a stranger. So, I’ll say this once and only once. You will never again touch what is mine. Do you understand? You lay a finger on her, and I’ll break it and every other bone in your body.”
Redness crept up Cory’s neck as he huffed and contorted his face. “Whatever. She’s not worth it.” His hand still on his chest, he got up and walked to the group.
“Did you break his wrist?” I asked.
“He’ll live.” He narrowed his glare on Cory’s back. He glanced at me, and for the first time, I saw his unbridled might.
Never was there a moment I didn’t think he was strong, but to have that power turned against you was a sight.
I took an instinctive step back.
Van took my upper arm, gripping enough to steer me but not to hurt.
I followed, tripping in my heels.
His jaw was a hard line as he stared straight ahead. We made our way down a dirt path that led to a waterfront park.
A few feet away from the rocky shore, he stopped at a tree, bracketing me with his arms. The abrasive bark dug into my back as I stared up at him, half scared, half entranced.
“Care to explain why another man had his hands on you like that?”
“It’s none of your business.” I stepped forward to get away, but his arms were too strong on each side of me.
“Don’t push me, Summer. I’m an inch away from going back in there and committing a felony.”
“You wouldn’t.” I gasped. “It’s not worth it.”
His jaw setting, he glared down at me. “Being with you is pushing me to my limits. At this point, I’m torn between beating that man within an inch of his life or fucking you against this tree so that you know who you belong to.”
Indignation and desire warred in me.
“I don’t belong to you. Of all the pigheaded, fucked-up things to say.”
He stepped closer, his hard body pressing me against the rough bark.
Goose bumps traveled up my arms, and I realized we were alone.
With one hand, he coiled it around my throat. His thumb traced my lower lip. “Your body says different. I never wanted to possess someone before, but you bring out the worst in me.”
His anger rolled off him in waves.
“I want—” He gritted his teeth, huffing loudly.
“Then, fucking do it.”
The kiss we shared at his house was tender passion, but this was raw, a sharper edge to each flick of his tongue.
Somehow, he unzipped my dress, and it was falling over my shoulders, my breasts bared to the night. His teeth scraped the side of my neck as he bent down as the tree bark rubbed my bare skin, but I didn’t care. He hoisted me up, and my legs wrapped around his waist.
After fumbling with the front of his pants and shifting my underwear to the side, he thrust into me in one long stroke.
I cried out, taking him to the hilt. My head flung back and hit the tree with a thunk before he stepped back two paces and held me up, still pumping with nothing but himself to set the rhythm.
For each beat, his forearms flexed, his raw strength taking over. This primal heat between us spurred us to go faster, come together, harder.
Anger for what happened only minutes before gave me strength, and I funneled it into riding him.
This was punishing, his thrusts in a frenzy as he pounded into me over and over again.
Raking his back, I hooked my ankles together to keep me upright as he squeezed my ass, pushing me up and down his cock.
My gasps and cries were too loud for the public place, but I couldn’t stop myself. As my climax built, I sank my teeth into his shoulder, muffling my cry into the fabric of his shirt. My muscles tensed, and I shuddered in his arms, the light behind my eyes blinding and white hot.
His sounds, guttural and animal-like, even, deepened as his whole body tensed. He took one hand off my ass but left him inside me as he leaned against the tree, our foreheads touching.
His kiss was reverent.
“You’re fucking me up, Sunshine. I’m not supposed to feel this way.”
His words were a whisper, so soft and tinged with emotion.
“I know,” I murmured.
I did. It wasn’t supposed to be this explosive, to hold this much longing. But it did.
Pulling back, he looked down at me. “What are we going to do?”
I pulled free from him, standing on shaky legs.
I knew what I wanted. To fall into him, to allow him to cover me with his body, and to stay in the safety of his arms for the rest of my days. I wanted to trust that he could feel the same.
But the only person I could trust was myself.
Time and time again, the world has proven that. It didn’t matter if I was falling for this man. It wasn’t enough.
Before he could stop me, I made my way onto the path. “Go home.”
I hadn’t realized until I made the trek back how close we were to both the restaurant and the parking lot, where there would, likely, be people.
With his long legs, he was able to catch up with me in a matter of seconds.
“So, you gonna tell me who that was?”
“No one. An asshole. It’s fine.” I rubbed my elbow, easing away from the spot where Cory had tugged me.
Van inspected the red print on my arm, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
Anger rolled under his skin, and I could see the effort it took for him to keep it in check as his finger brushed the four red crescent marks.
His touch was light, feather-soft, and cool on the swollen wounds.
“It’s obviously not. Who was he, Summer?”
Pulling my arm from his grip, I gave him a shaky smile. “No one. I swear, he’s not imp—”
“Don’t you finish that lie.” His features hardened as he glared at the restaurant door as if considering going back and finishing what he started.
“Trust me, you don’t want to get involved in my mess.”
If he were to find out about Cory, what would he say?
I loved the way Van saw me. The strength and confidence I had when I was in his presence.
He couldn’t find out about how foolish I had been. The stupid girl who sent naked pictures to a man I didn’t really know.
Van would never respect that woman. I couldn’t even respect her.
“You’re wrong about that.” Huffing out an enormous sigh, he placed a hand on my lower back and led me across the parking lot. “I like your mess. I like everything about you.”
The late summer wind was picking up off the salt water, cooling my skin. The waxing crescent moon hung low in the sky, scattering shadows along our path as we made our way to his truck.
He paused at the passenger’s side, his hand on the handle. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that was the ex.”
“It didn’t end well.” I shrugged.
My arm stung, but I fought the urge to rub the sore spot.
Our romp in the woods had created new scratches, and I was pretty sure a sliver of a pine cone had gotten stuck in my hair.
“And that’s all you’ll say?”
“And that’s all I’ll say.”
“Summer, why you got to be so . . .”
I waited for him to pull out the words so many men used on me. Stubborn , difficult , bitchy . Crazy .
Reaching under his arm, I pulled the passenger side door open myself, then climbed in and slammed it shut in his face.
I didn’t owe him an explanation. There were no promises made between us. Van didn’t want labels. I didn’t want to trust my shame to him.
He glared at me through the window before walking around the truck and hopping in.
Once the engine started, I turned to him. “You told me you didn’t want me to lie, but that doesn’t mean you get to know everything about me.”
“I know.”
His voice was low and dangerous, as if rage had been simmering underneath it.
We drove in silence for a long time.
“Do you still have feelings for him?”
“No. Definitely not.”
“So, why talk to him? Why would you give him the time of day if he was so terrible?”
“Are you saying I deserved to be hurt like that?”
He huffed loudly. “For fuck’s sake, Summer. Of course not. No woman deserves to be grabbed like that. I wanted to punch those veneers out of his face. But I don’t understand why you couldn’t ignore him. It makes no sense.”
“No sense to you. It does to me. He deserves to be knocked down. He’s a piece of shit, and he needs to be as miserable as I was.”
I realized that, once the words left my mouth, I had said too much. Gave it all away.
I waited for his outrage, his disgust over my venom, but there was none.
“Did you love him?”
“No. This isn’t about being in love with him. Which I wasn’t. I believed him when he said I was the only one, and he made me look silly. I can’t trust anything now, and it’s his fault. Men complain all the time about crazy women. ‘Look at that crazy bitch, so obsessed.’ Who made them that way? Who drove them to the edge and took off the brakes?”
“Then, let him go, Sunshine. You think I can’t tell that something about that guy is holding you back? Leave him behind. You’ll be happier if you do.”
“Don’t tell me what I need to be happier. Who is supposed to make me happier? You? Mr. No Commitment? Who needs labels, low stakes, different gal every weekend?”
“It’s not—” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I haven’t been with anyone since you and I—”
I raised a brow. “Am I supposed to believe that?”
“Believe what you want. You always do, right? You’ll jump to conclusions and won’t ask questions like, ‘Van do you want me to spend the night?’ ‘Van, were you able to eat while we were apart?’ ‘Van, would you absolutely beat my ex-boyfriend to a bloody pulp if he looked at me the wrong way?’”
His tangent took the air from my frustration.
“When I went to London, he sent me this bouquet of bright blue tulips. He said they looked like my eyes.” I let out a low laugh. “At the time, I thought it was so romantic. But then I looked it up, to see what type they were, and you know what I found? Blue tulips aren’t even real. They’re genetically modified to look like that. Dyed. It’s fake, just like everything I thought about him.”
I glanced over at Van, who was listening intently. “I was the other woman. He was seeing us both, and I had no idea until I came home to his engagement announcement. The day I broke into your house, I was confronting him. We argued, and I started walking home.” His brow furrowed. “After throwing an expensive bottle of champagne at his head.”
One brow raised, his mouth took on a downturned smile of approval.
“Did it hit him?”
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t be talking to you if it did. I’d probably be in jail.”
“Shame. His face is begging to be rearranged.”
A lesser woman might have disapproved, but I reveled in it. That gave me the courage to relax.
“No arguments there.”
We passed Ridgewood’s downtown exit, moving farther north.
“You’re not taking me home?”
He scoffed at me, taking my hand. “Of course not. You’re staying over. And no leaving in the middle of the night like some cartoon villain.”