Chapter 6
DANIEL
“It’s Summer,” she calls through the house, letting the sound carry to the back of it. “I brought a friend.”
That shouldn’t leave me smiling, but there’s something sweet about this girl. I lower my head, and whisper, “Friends, huh?”
She rolls her pretty eyes and pokes me in the arm. “Be good.”
“Trust me. I’m always good.” I give her a wink.
“Oh my, my,” she mutters under her breath as she leaves me standing in the foyer of this old house. “I tried to warn you. They’re going to make you pay the toll for use of the bathroom.”
“What’s the fee?”
“Your time.”
Roman comes out of the bathroom, and says, “Nice throne.”
“No.” I bend down and whisper, “Manners, please.”
“You taught me that.”
“It’s a guy thing, buddy. Not for the ladies.”
Turning back, she signals behind her. “Come on.”
I take his hand, which wasn’t properly dried, adding something else we need to work on to the list, and head to Summer, who’s waiting for us.
Dark wood panels line the walls with an eclectic array of rugs and knick-knacks around.
We entered near a small table with a ceramic bowl that looks like something made in elementary school and walked past a dining room with a long wooden table in the front that seats ten, while paralleling a large set of stairs with a floral runner beneath our feet.
Summer said it was her sisters and her grandmother here, and by the looks of it, they’ve made the place their own, as evidenced by the pink paint and blue shutters outside.
Unique seems to be an understatement when it comes to her and her family.
Waiting on us, she stands there in her beauty that I’m not sure she’s fully aware of.
She wavers between an innocence that peeks through like sunshine on a cloudy day, and on the flip side, she’s proficient and even eager to please to get her job done.
But it’s the third wild element that’s most captivating.
Her shoulders ease, and a smile comes without warning when we dance around the suggestion of anything sexual.
I’m so used to women being forward and telling me exactly what they want in the bedroom.
Plenty are happy to hide their motives for fame, even the adjacent ones, and access to money. Mine, specifically.
It’s uninteresting.
Summer Season is anything but boring. There’s not been an ounce of wanting anything from me other than to make sure we’re taken care of and having a good time.
She treats me so normal like I’m not me, I’m not Daniel Sutton, super star right wing for the Brooklyn Breakaways, not famous or even known.
It’s refreshing. I appreciate her efforts not to make a big deal out of me.
That’s all I get in the city. It’s a nice change here in the Cove.
When I reach her, she enters the back room. “Dolly, this is our Cove Cottage tenant for the summer, Daniel—”
“Sutton,” her grandmother fills in as if it’s been waiting on the tip of her tongue. Rushing past her granddaughter, she swoops right into me, wrapping her arms around my body like a vise grip.
“Yes.” That is practically gut punched out of me when her Dolly clings to me when a handshake would have sufficed. “We’re hugging. Okay. Alright.” I pat her gently as the short woman buries her head against my abs. “You got a good hold on me there, Dolly.”
Summer takes her arm with a laugh that’s bordering on awkwardness as her eyes dart from me to Dolly again. “She sure does. Let’s wrap this up and let Mr. Sutton breathe again, Grandma.”
Dolly releases me as soon as “Grandma” comes out of her mouth. “Mind your manners, ma’am,” she snaps at Summer.
Summer wraps her arms around Dolly from behind, and I can’t determine if it’s a hug or a restraint tactic. “You too,” she teases right back. “This is Daniel’s son, Roman.”
Dolly leans down and taps his nose. “Do you like cookies?”
“I like cookies a lot.”
“How do you feel about chocolate chip?”
If captured, the excitement on Roman’s face could light up an arena. “They’re my favorite.”
She says, “You’re in luck. I was just about to bake some.” That’s all it takes for Dolly to win over my son. Though, I’m weak to a good cookie too, so I don’t blame him. Roman gets wrapped under her arm, leading him to the kitchen. “Summer, show our guest around.”
“My mom likes snickerdoodles.” I can hear him telling her about his mom when I didn’t even know that about Mia. Why would I, though? We didn’t make it past a second date before we were trying to figure out the logistics of raising a son when we weren’t together.
It’s all worked out, but I’m glad Roman knows that kind of stuff.
“She forgets we’re grown sometimes,” Summer says, tapping the toe of her shoe on the floor.
She’s all grown, alright. “I’m sure it’s still great to have her close.”
Straightening her posture and standing on two feet again, she has a shine in her eyes that’s brightened since we arrived.
“It is.” Presenting the room in front of us, she says, “The family room.” Looking at the corner, she waffles.
“The kitchen is back there. The dining room up front and the bathroom. We came here so you could use it, so don’t be shy. ”
“I’m good.” I glance at the stairs. “What’s upstairs?”
She laughs, pressing her hand to her chest and rubbing gently. “We’re not going upstairs.” Grabbing hold of a baluster that wobbles, she stills it and takes two steps up. Incredibly, she’s still shorter than me. “We got wet together. That was all.”
“Getting wet together justifies a tour up there, if you ask me.”
“That’s why I’m not asking.” Eyeing her lips as she licks them and then sucks the bottom under her top teeth, I realize that resisting her is going to be a challenge. “But can I ask you something personal?”
“I like when we get personal.”
Her hold on the wood tightens, whitening her fingertips. Nervous? “Are you always this flirtatious?”
“Is that what this is? Flirting?” I tilt my head to study the minutest of reactions she’s willing to reveal—the quick gnaw on the inside of her cheek, the sway of her body, her gaze distancing when she’s deep in thought.
“If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck—”
“I think it’s safe to call this a duck. But to answer your question, no, I’m not.”
That pretty smile of hers reaches her eyes, and when she looks down, a spray of her lashes kisses the tops of her cheeks. “I should change my clothes.”
I look at the dress that’s dried and stretched out more than it was, and ask, “Should I wait here for you?”
She nods with a growing grin. “Sounds like a good option since you’re not coming upstairs with me.” She winks. She winks at me, and my whole chest tightens as I grin like a fucking fool. “Or you could spend time with Dolly and make cookies.”
“It’s not a bad option.”
“Why do I get the distinct impression you’re up to no good, Mr. Sutton?”
“I prefer it when you call me Daniel.” Moving closer, I rest my hand over hers and lower my voice. “It feels less like we’re strangers.”
She leans in, and whispers, “We practically are strangers, though, so acting like we’re not doesn’t change the facts.”
“We can change—”
“I didn’t know we had company.”
My eyes dash to the girl at the top of the stairs as I move away from Summer.
Summer’s gaze whips over her shoulder as she tucks strands of hair behind her ear.
She’s breathless before she even speaks, and when she does, she asks, “Spring? Um . . .” Returning her attention to me, she says, “This is the summer tenant next door.”
The girl’s hair is a shade or two darker than Summer’s, and her eyes are just as blue as she studies us like we just got busted. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Apparently, that smirk runs in the family. Thumbing over her shoulder, she adds, “I can go back upst—”
“No, you didn’t interrupt.” Summer peeks at me before angling toward who I assume is a sister who’s starting down the stairs again. “This is Daniel Sutton.”
Embracing Summer’s words, she bops down the stairs with an energy I haven’t felt in years, only stopping when she reaches the same step her sister is already occupying. Holding her hand out, she says, “Spring Season.”
I shoot a look straight at Summer and then back before shaking her hand. “Spring?” Releasing her, I look at Summer, and ask, “As in the four seasons?”
“The Season Sisters,” Spring says, bobbling her head. “That’s what we’re known as. It’s annoying but kind of grows on you.”
“It’s not annoying,” Summer says, and then looks at me. “Our mom gave us those names.”
“Unique.” I don’t know what else to say. Summer Season was different, to put it kindly. But all four. “So there’s also—”
“Fall and Winter.” Spring steps to the landing beside me. “Well, technically it’s Autumn but that just doesn’t work as well. I read you have a son?”
If looks could kill, Spring would be dead and Summer convicted of the murder. “That’s proprietary information, dear sister.”
“You left the file on your bed.”
“In my locked room.”
She laughs. “I didn’t notice. Anywho, I’m sure he doesn’t mind talking about his son, big sis.” Turning her attention back to me, Spring adds, “Right, Daniel or do you go by Danny?”
“Daniel, never Danny, and yeah, I have an eight-year-old named Roman. He’s in with Dolly making cookies.”
Moving around us, she starts in their direction. “Great. I’ll see if I can help and leave you two to enjoy some time alone—”
“We don’t need alone time,” Summer says in a panic. The door is already swinging closed behind her when she turns to me. “We don’t need alone time.”
“Speak for yourself.” I grin. “So, the four seasons, huh?” I rock back on my heels, tucking my hands into my pockets. “I feel dumb.”
“I’m sure it will pass. It always does for me.”
Besides chuckling, I say, “When we met, you mentioned your names being different. You even mentioned Dolly, but this isn’t what I expected.”
“No one ever does. You can imagine how fun it is for us to meet new people,” she deadpans as she takes a seat on the stairs. “Spoiler, it isn’t. It’s always a topic of conversation.”
“I can imagine.”
“We get it,” she drolls like she’s bored. “Our names are different. Spring even hated hers for a few of her teen years and made us call her Ava. She thought Spring was too grounding, too earthy and hippie, and Ava was glamorous.”
Coming to sit next to her, I lean against the opposite baluster. “She seems to have come back around.”
“I’d say in the past two years. As the youngest, I think she struggled more to find her own identity.
We’re all so similar. Makes sense because we’re close, but it was good for her to spread her wings instead of settling on being part of a group.
She came around when she was ready.” She scrunches her nose. “I’m sure none of this makes sense—”
“It does. But what about you?”
“I didn’t have a choice.” It would have been easy to throw something out, to deflect, but she doesn’t take that route. She goes with honesty. “As the oldest, I had three girls to raise.”
“What do you mean? Why did you raise them?”
“Because Dolly was grieving her only child and struggled to get up in the morning, or any time of day, for that matter. If I had done the same . . .” Her pause has her looking away from me.
She clenches her eyes and then reopens them with a raise of her chin.
“You know what? We should get you what you need and—”
“Daddy, come taste.” Our gazes are pulled to the kitchen door that’s been swung open. My cute kid looks like the sugar is already taking effect by the wild look in his eyes and a smile that’s giving a full view of his molars.
“We’ll be right—”
“It’s okay,” Summer says with a quick tug on the hem of my shirt. “That’s enough about me. You came here on vacation, not to listen to my tragedy.” The sweetest smile shines as she stands again and dusts the back of her skirt with a sweep of her hands.
“I want to hear more about you.”
“Well, you’re going to be stuck with me more than you bargained for since you’re out of water and we’re the closest bathroom.”
I don’t remember the last time I’ve been interested in a woman, but Summer is the most fascinating woman I’ve met in some time. No water is a real bitch of an inconvenience. Silver lining, an excuse to get to know her better. “We’ll muddle through somehow.”