Chapter 9
SUMMER
“That’s the tenant?” Winter asks, peering over my shoulder out the kitchen window. Basically, she’s spying like me.
Steam wafts from my coffee as I shamelessly stare at a shirtless Daniel. Every muscle coordinates to push Roman on the swing and sends my thoughts somewhere inappropriate considering he’s a guest in our home.
“Yep.” I take a gulp of coffee this time, feeling particularly thirsty this morning.
“Wow.”
“I know. It’s a problem.”
I turn when she opens a cabinet to get a coffee mug and try not to stare at the half-naked man in the yard.
“A good one to have,” she says, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“Why don’t I get those kinds of problems?
I get delayed shipments and the bees being moody and not producing properly, so I need to plant more flowers. ”
“Back up. What do you mean, the bees are moody?”
She sits at a table with her mug in front of her, holding on to it like life itself is held inside. “Jeremy, the kid who does the yard work, mowed down the flowers near the hives. Now the bees are protesting.”
“By not producing honey?”
“Wouldn’t you if your favorite thing in the world, other than the queen bee herself, was gone in an instant?” I blink once and then again, not sure how to respond to that. “I owe the candlemaker eight gallons, or I’m not getting my next two shipments.”
“That is a problem.”
Taking a sip of her drink, she sets it down and looks at me. “The shop needs more products. I have a new honey mustard coming in and a lotion I’m dying to try, but if I don’t have the honey, I can’t keep the products coming.”
Having a honey hive on part of the property wasn’t something I encouraged.
Dolly had bees before we moved in, but it was Winter who spent the time and made the effort to learn everything she could.
I’m convinced it helped her through the death of our parents by giving her something to focus on, but I never thought she’d be returning after college to her hometown to open a shop.
The income isn’t much, but she’s growing it month by month.
“What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. Jeremy felt bad, so he’s helping me plant the flowers when they come in this week. I’ll give him some honey-vanilla ice cream to take home. It’s his favorite.”
“Mine too.” I finish my coffee and rinse my mug, watching through the window again. “Daniel and Roman are still in full swing outside.”
“Pun intended,” she says, and laughs.
I walk over and wrap my arms around her to hug her. “You’ll figure this out. You always do, and if you can’t, we’re here for you.”
Patting my arms, she takes a breath of relief. “I know. I’ll keep you posted.”
“I’m going to check on our guests.”
“So, tell me. What’s the situation with the hot guy and his son again?”
My youngest sister pushes through the kitchen door.
“Oh, they’re here again?” The two of them together remind me so much of our mom.
Their delicate features and heart-shaped faces.
Their coloring couldn’t be more different yet fitting for their season—Winter’s dark hair to Spring’s blond.
Winter’s brown eyes to her opposite’s blue.
None of that matters, though, when you see them together. The resemblance is striking.
“Spring will fill you in.” I cut through the house and walk outside. They don’t see me before I start across the lawn. “Good morning. How’d we sleep?”
With his grip tight around the ropes, Roman leans back as far as he can as he soars through the air. “Like a baby.”
Daniel laughs. “He slept like a baby. A baby who kicks all night, keeping me up most of it.” As if he hadn’t taken the time prior, he drinks me in like his morning coffee, savoring parts of me more than others. “Good morning to you. How’d you sleep?”
“Like a baby.” I grin, allowing my good mood to dictate my expression.
He catches wind of it and smiles before he leans in to push Roman again.
Once the tire is off and spinning, he says, “Glad to hear it.” His tone shifts, as if he wanted to say something more.
The smile that felt so casual slips, and he opens his mouth.
But he just thinks better of it because he closes it again and turns back to the swing.
“Hey, Roman, I’m going to talk to Summer for a minute. ”
“K.”
“Walk with me?” We walk out from under the oak tree and toward the house.
Not sure I’ve seen him serious before. Strangely enough, he’s still just as attractive when I feel like I’m in trouble. “Sure, what’s up?”
He stops and looks at me. “I’m grateful for all you’ve done for us, but I think we’re going to need to leave.”
“No.” I hate myself for letting the desperation seep out. “I mean, why?”
Guilt coasts across his expression, dragging down his brow and the corners of his mouth.
“The room is great, but . . .” Waving a hand up and down in front of him, he adds, “It’s made for someone more your size, not mine.
My feet hang off the end, my kid sleeps hot and there was his kicking.
I’m exhausted. The lack of sleep has me thinking it will be best if we go somewhere else.
And since you said there’s nothing available in the area—”
“Take my bed.” Tilting his head, he narrows his eyes on me as if he didn’t hear me correctly.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I haven’t felt anything for anyone in so long, and now, like the bees, it’s going to be ripped away from me.
I want to ride this high as long as I can.
I repeat, “You can sleep in my bed. It’s bigger. ”
“Now, why would you go and offer up your bed?”
His question has me digging deeper than my desire for him to stay.
I need him to stay so I can keep my bonus.
That extra money is the only thing making an offer to Mrs. Dover possible.
I can’t lose my shot at buying the cottage from her.
“Because I’m responsible for the situation at the cottage.
This was supposed to be a summer getaway for you and Roman, and he looks so happy here.
It’s a temporary solution until we can get the two of you safely back in the cottage. ”
“At the cost of your own comfort?” He shifts back a step, giving us room to consider this option. Maybe he thinks I’ll back out and change my mind. “Where will you sleep?”
The words flow from my mouth like a waterfall. “We can put Roman in the guest room, you in my room, and I can sleep on the couch.”
“I can’t let you sleep on the couch.”
Sharing a bed would lead to so much more, more than I’m ready for. I had no intention of being in that room with him, but the sudden inclination to be close to him has me replying, “The couch in my room.”
His gaze steadies on mine as he drags his tongue over his bottom lip twice before he takes a breath, releasing the tension building between us. “That’s generous.”
“It’s called hospitality. It’s what I went to school for.”
“So you’re a trained professional people pleaser?”
I hate that he’s hit the bull’s-eye with that characterization, but I won’t deny it. “Unfortunately for me—”
“Lucky for me.”
I should hate how happy he makes me. It feels good to laugh about ridiculous stuff like this.
It feels better to flirt with someone who I’m insanely attracted to, who seems just as attracted to me.
But it’s the best feeling in the world when everything comes together like destiny had a hand.
I’m not sure why I believe in that stuff—though not nearly as much as Fall does—but this feels like something bigger than us creating a problem to solve. And we’re doing just that.
Bonus, we get to spend more time together.
We start back toward Roman at a leisurely pace. “Tell me, Ms. Season, what are the rules? Number one was to avoid your sisters at all costs. That’s been broken.”
“I never expected it to last. We’re way too involved in each other’s lives not to know everything going on.”
“I wanted Roman to have siblings.” I glance up at him when I hear the change in his tone. His chest inflates with the deepest breath before he slowly deflates. “That didn’t work out.”
Before I have a chance to ask any burning questions, he looks back at me and says, “His mother, Mia, and I were never a couple.”
I don’t know why I look at Roman when my heart pangs. “Oh.” I usually have plenty to say, but what would I say to that? Was the sex at least good? No. No. No. Do not say anything.
When I look at him again, he’s stopped a few steps back.
I turn to face him. Maybe it’s the light that hasn’t broken through the cloud cover, or that the arrogance he wears like a second skin seems to be missing this morning, or perhaps he’s just tired like he said, but it’s the most connected I’ve felt to him.
He’s strong in muscle and quick-witted, but he’s still just a man looking for approval from the world around him. I’ve been there.
“It doesn’t matter if you and her worked out.
You got Roman. And it sounds like you guys are great parents.
She takes him to see you when you’re not traveling, you have him for the summer, and he’s polite and as cute as a button.
He’s a great kid.” I take a step toward him, wanting to leave room for the conversation.
“Anyway, it’s not too late. You’re like what, forty? ”
“Forty? Fuck me.” His head rolls back on his neck. When he pops it up again, he asks, “Are you serious right now?”
Laughing, I do a little tap dance to the side and curtsy. “No. But I had you going.” I close the gap and poke him in the stomach. Hard as a rock. “I know your age from your profile.”
It’s cute seeing him annoyed as he shakes his head. “Right.” Bumping playfully against me, he asks, “How old are you? It’s only fair.”