Chapter 28
“Goodbye. And thank you again.” Summer waved over her shoulder as she pulled open the door of the Book Den.
Ruth, the bookstore’s owner, who was every bit as sweet as Abigail had said, smiled back. “See you tomorrow morning. Have a good night.”
Summer had come into the bookstore this afternoon, after she and Benjamin had left Mama’s and picked Max up from school. She’d expected to fill out an application, maybe answer some interview questions, but instead Ruth had pulled her behind the counter and set immediately to training her, acting as if Summer were doing her a favor instead of the other way around.
“I think that went well.”
Summer startled at the voice. She hadn’t expected Abigail to wait for her. “Did you like it?”
“I did,” Summer answered honestly. They started toward their cars, heat radiating up from the pavement even though the sun was sinking behind the mountains to the west. Its last rays rested lightly on the river that wound beyond the parking lot.
“I’m so glad. Although you and Benjamin could have taken a little time for a honeymoon before you started working.” Abigail’s tone was teasing, but Summer felt her face warm. She had assumed that all of Benjamin’s family realized their marriage wasn’t real—but maybe not. She didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse.
“It was Max’s first day of school anyway,” she answered feebly. She felt bad that Benjamin had to spend his afternoon off watching her nephew, but he’d insisted that he wanted to. And anyway, they were going to have to get used to adjusting their schedules so that one of them would always be home for Max.
“I still can’t believe y’all are married,” Abigail gushed. “But then again, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. When those Calvano boys want something, they will pursue it until they get it.” She laughed, and Summer tried to force herself to make a sound that could pass for a chuckle.
But her heart knifed. Benjamin might be a Calvano. But he hadn’t pursued her. Nor did he want her. Her eyes roved over the couples who strolled the riverwalk hand in hand despite the heat. They all wanted each other.
“I’m off tomorrow,” Abigail said when they reached their vehicles. “But I’ll see you Friday? And you and Benjamin and Max have to come over for dinner sometime. Don’t worry, Benjamin gave me cooking lessons, so the food will be good.” She laughed, waved, and then got into her car, leaving Summer astounded once again by this family. Were they for real? And how must her mama look to Benjamin in comparison?
Fortunately, Mama had been on decently good behavior this morning, but still, Summer had felt the tension in Benjamin’s arm when he’d wrapped it around her, and she’d known it was as much for Mama’s sake as for hers that he did it. She also knew she should have moved away from him, but some part of her had wanted Mama to see that not everyone thought she was worthless.
Mama didn’t need to know it wasn’t real.
But the moment Benjamin had gone outside to mow the lawn, Mama had turned off the TV. “So you got him to do it then.”
Summer had frozen in the act of picking up Mama’s dirty dishes and lifted her head defiantly.
But instead of the sneer she expected, Mama’s face looked almost . . . sad. And that stole all of Summer’s strength.
“What else was I supposed to do?” She resumed picking up the dishes. “Stacy is going to contest the guardianship.”
“Stacy?” This time Mama did scoff. “So let her. Max should have been her problem all along.”
“He’s not a problem, Mama,” Summer repeated wearily. “He’s your grandson.”
“Well, you’d better hope he’s worth all the trouble. I have a feeling you and Benjamin are going to end up regretting this.”
Summer had ignored her and gone about her work silently, but those words had played through her head all afternoon.
And they echoed loudly now as she started the car and headed home. She didn’t regret marrying Benjamin—not really, not if it meant she got to keep Max. But how could Benjamin not regret it, if not now, then eventually, when he realized everything he had given up for her?
She let the worries chase her all the way home, and by the time she pulled into the driveway, she knew what she had to do. They couldn’t get an annulment yet, since she couldn’t risk the guardianship. But she could keep herself and Max from getting too close to Benjamin so they wouldn’t be hurt when things ended. And they had to end—she couldn’t let Benjamin give up his whole future for them.
Resolved, she marched herself to the door. But the moment she opened it, she was hit by two things: the tantalizing scent of something warm and garlicky, and the sound of a giant belly laugh.
An uninvited smile lifted her lips at the thought of coming home to this every day. She tried to flatten it as she closed the door quietly behind her.
This didn’t change anything. In fact, it only made it more important that she stick to her resolution.
She followed the giggles—and the delicious smells—to the kitchen.
Max stood on a chair at the dining table, and Benjamin stood close by him with one hand on the boy”s back. They were both leaning over something on the table, and Max giggled wildly.
Though Summer didn’t make a sound, Benjamin looked over his shoulder as if he’d somehow known she was there. His smile seemed to welcome her home, and a dangerous little flutter in her middle said she liked that.
“What on earth are y’all doing?” She moved to Max’s other side.
“Making a volcano!” Max said exuberantly, spooning baking soda into what looked like a cup of water. An empty soda bottle sat on the table behind it, along with a jug of vinegar.
“You’re just in time.” Benjamin took the baking soda box. “All right, Maxerooni, stir up the cup and then we’ll pour it into the bottle and see what happens.”
Max stirred gleefully, but Summer couldn’t help looking past him to Benjamin, who looked as excited as the boy.
“Now?” Max asked.
“Now.” Benjamin nodded and took the cup from Max. “Ready.” He held the cup over the top of the bottle. “Set.” He tilted it a little. “Go.” He poured the water out quickly, then stepped back.
A milky geyser shot into the air, and Summer jumped backwards as it came at her. But she was too slow.
She gasped as the concoction hit her square in the face. Warm liquid soaked through her shirt.
She wiped at her eyes and found both Benjamin and Max staring at her, mouths open.
“Oh no,” Benjamin said. But he couldn’t keep a straight face. Max clapped his hands and chortled. “Aunt Sunny got volcanoed.”
“I’m so sorry.” But Benjamin was laughing so hard that there was no way to take his apology sincerely.
“You sound really sorry.” Summer tried to glare at him, but his and Max’s laughs combined were infectious.
“You should have seen your face,” Benjamin burst out around his peals of laughter.
And Summer broke, laughing harder than either of them, until tears joined the “lava” on her face. She had a feeling her response might be from the craziness of the last two days, more than the hilarity of the moment.
Still, it felt good.
When their giggles were finally under control, Benjamin turned to her. “You go get changed, and I’ll get this cleaned up and have supper on the table by the time you get back.”
“Don’t think you can buy me off with a little bit of food,” Summer warned. “I will get you back for this.”
“I’m counting on it.” Benjamin lifted a hand and slid it across Summer’s cheek before she realized what was happening.
“A water drop,” he explained. But his hand lingered for a moment, and Summer swallowed roughly and backed away, suddenly remembering her earlier resolve.
She couldn’t let herself get sucked into believing this was real—no matter how badly she wanted it to be.
Benjamin sighed and leaned back into the couch. All in all, it had been a good day. Even telling Summer’s mama hadn’t been as bad as he’d anticipated. And now that he knew the extent of the chores Summer took care of for her, he could help out. He’d already told Mrs. Ellis that he’d swing by to clean out her gutters sometime next week. He wasn’t sure it had exactly endeared him to his new mother-in-law, but at least it would ease Summer’s burden.
He peered toward the hallway, searching for his wife, but there was no sign of movement. She’d ducked into her room the moment they’d finished putting Max to bed, but he had assumed she would be back out. It was only 8:30.
Unless she was avoiding him . . .
He dropped his head back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Maybe he shouldn’t have touched her cheek before. It had felt natural enough—more than natural, it had felt wonderful—but he’d seen the look of panic in her eyes as she’d backed away. And when she’d returned to the kitchen after changing into a pair of athletic shorts that showed off her long dancer’s legs and a sleeveless shirt that made Benjamin want to run his hands over her arms, up her shoulders, and into her hair, she’d seemed determined to keep as much distance between them as possible. Even in Max’s small room, she’d managed to avoid getting within more than a few feet of Benjamin.
Meanwhile, the only thing he could think about was finally kissing her for real.
Patience, he reminded himself. She was still grieving. Still vulnerable. Still coming to grips with their new reality.
Or maybe she didn’t want to kiss him. Maybe she was still caught up on Nick and wished he was the one she had married instead.
Benjamin pushed the thought aside. She hadn’t mentioned Nick to him once since TJ’s death. And besides, Nick wasn’t here, offering to take care of her. Benjamin was.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.” Summer’s quiet apology shot Benjamin upright.
She stood in the doorway, her dark hair hanging loose around her shoulders, her expression caught between apologetic and uncertain.
“You’re not bothering me.” He patted the couch next to him. “I was waiting for you.”
Summer gave him a quizzical look but didn’t step closer. “For what?”
“I thought we could play a game. Or watch a movie. Or talk.”
Or kiss.But he kept that one to himself.
Summer hesitated, then moved toward the cabinet next to the TV. “What game?”
“Monopoly?”
She shot a caustic look in his direction.
He held up his hands. “Just kidding. I haven’t forgotten how much you hate that game. How about Scrabble?”
“Only if you promise not to make up words.”
“I’ve never made up a word,” he protested. “An ai is a three-toed sloth. We looked it up.”
Summer rolled her eyes. “You didn’t know that when you put the letters down.”
Benjamin chuckled. “If I remember correctly, you won anyway.”
“That’s not the point.” Summer squatted in front of the cabinet and pulled out the game.
“No?” Benjamin asked, losing track of the conversation as she walked toward him, the barest hint of a smile dancing against her lips.
“No,” she said firmly, dropping the game onto the coffee table. “The point is, you can’t just make things up. There are rules.”
“Okay,” Benjamin agreed, moving over so that she could sit next to him. But she crossed the room and dragged a small armchair to the other side of the coffee table.
“Can’t risk you cheating,” she said lightly, but Benjamin had a feeling there was more to it than that.
They drew tiles, and Benjamin chuckled at his selection.
“What?” Summer demanded.
“You’ll see.” He rearranged the letters on his tray. “Do you want to go first?”
She shook her head. “And deny you whatever you’re giggling about?”
“I’m not giggling,” he corrected. “I’m cackling. But since you insist . . .” He laid down the letters: A-X-O-L-O-T-L.
“Benjamin,” Summer sputtered. “You just promised you wouldn’t make things up.”
“I didn’t.” Benjamin couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s a kind of salamander. Look it up. If you dare.”
Summer still looked skeptical, but she shook her head. “I believe you. Against my better judgment.”
“What a lovely thing for a wife to say to her husband.” Benjamin tested the words on his tongue. And decided he liked how they felt.
Summer’s face took on a light pink flush, but she silently laid her tiles on the board.
“Laugh,” Benjamin read her word. “Not bad. Not as good as axolotl, but not bad.”
Summer laughed quietly, and Benjamin smiled. The word may not be worth a lot of points, but he sure liked how it sounded on her.
“So . . .” he finally worked up the nerve to say as they continued to build off of each other’s words. “We should talk about moving. To my place. Our place.”
Summer didn’t say anything as she spelled the word joy.
“Thirteen points.” She looked up from the board. “I guess we should. I can call a moving company.
Benjamin waved off the comment. “I don’t have such a big family for nothing. They’ll help.”
“I couldn’t ask them to do that,” Summer protested.
“You don’t have to.” Benjamin added his own word to the board: always. “I’ll do it right now.” He pulled out his phone to send a quick text but was distracted by a string of texts from Ian that he hadn’t heard come in.
He tapped on the notification.
Going to be in Atlanta September 18-19.
Sending your ticket.
Hotel and car are covered too.
So you have no excuses.
Benjamin snorted in exasperation. “Unbelievable.”
“What’s unbelievable?” Summer put down the word amuse.
Benjamin clicked off his phone. “A friend of mine from culinary school wants me to check out his new restaurant in Atlanta next month. I already told him I couldn’t, but he booked me a plane ticket and hotel anyway.” He shook his head, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. Ian had always been dauntless.
“Why can’t you go?” Summer looked up from the board.
He stared at her. Why couldn’t he go? He wasn’t going to get married to her and then up and leave. Unless . . .
“Do you and Max want to go?”
Something like wistfulness crossed Summer’s face but was instantly replaced by that guarded look she wore so often. “I have to take care of Mama. Plus, Max will have school.”
“Oh. Right.” He probably shouldn’t have forgotten that already.
“But you should still go,” Summer insisted.
“I’m not going to—”
“Yes, you are.” Her eyes darted determination. “Or— Or I’ll knock the Scrabble board off the table.”
“You wouldn’t.” Benjamin clutched at his chest in mock horror. “I’m winning.”
“Try me.” Summer raised her eyebrows in an adorable challenge that made him want to lean across the table and kiss her.
Benjamin forced himself to drop his eyes from her lips. “Fine. You win. I’ll go.”
“Good.” Summer sounded satisfied. “It’s your turn.”