Chapter 10
SUMMER
“Dolly?”
“In here,” she replies, sending me spinning in the hallway to figure out where the voice came from.
“Here where?”
She barges out of the laundry room by the kitchen, holding a gray shirt that looks awfully familiar.
“I washed your gentleman’s shirt.” My stomach drops, worried her meddling will send Daniel running.
He already has one foot out the door, and if he leaves, I lose the bonus that came along with his stay.
Does she not realize what’s on the line for me?
I’m undecided if that’s sweet or stalkerish.
Either way, she sure has taken to Daniel. I don’t blame her.
“I wondered if you’d seen it.” Studying it, I see it looks brand new. Any potential crease has been steamed right out. “Do I want to know when you got this from the guest room?”
“No, you don’t.” At least she’s honest. But my heart races in my chest. A mixture of panic from the situation and a bit of pride that Dolly ensured a great view this morning wars within me.
This is exhausting.
“Is that my shirt?” Daniel comes into the hall after searching for his shirt again in the bedroom. I gasp, but he walks right up to her. “You washed it for me?” Bending down, he kisses her on the cheek. “You’re the best, Dolly. Thank you.”
I blink. And again. The interaction was so sweet, like he was part of the family. Are they besties now? Did I just panic for nothing? Seems so.
But more importantly, why do I find it so cute that in the short span of him being here, he’s weaseled his way into the family dynamics? At this rate, I’m going to be hanging his and Roman’s stockings next to mine come December.
Oh God. My knees don’t stand a chance against this scene playing out. I flatten my hand to the wall to keep me upright before I swoon to the floor.
Dolly isn’t holding up much better. If she were wearing red, I’d say the bright color is reflecting on her cheeks, but even I can’t make up an excuse for the blushing and girlish giggle she releases. I’m thinking someone has a crush on Daniel Sutton, along with me. It’s easy to do.
She says, “We make sure to dress for breakfast, but we’ll make an exception for you, Mr. Sutton.” Shameless.
He’s already pulling it over his head. “No need to treat me special. Happy to oblige by the rules.” These are the rules he has no problem following? It’s only mine that are challenged. Got it. I roll my eyes as I lower my hand to my side again.
Ushering him toward the kitchen, she says, “I’ve made some breakfast. Let’s get you and Roman fed.”
“What am I?” I ask, holding my arms out. “Old news around here?”
Dolly looks back, and her smile softens. “Don’t worry, honey, I never forget about my girls.”
Not fifteen minutes later, I hear, “Save some sausage for Summer.” I cringe. “She loves her meat.” Dying would be less painful than this.
Reaching over to point out the eggs left on his son’s plate, Daniel adds, “It’s good to know she has a healthy appetite for meat.”
Roman adds, “I like meat.”
Dolly sets a basket of biscuits fresh from the oven in the center of the table. “She was always my good eater.”
We all reach for one at the same time. I let Roman get one first, then Daniel, but he hands his to me.
She always was my good eater. Ugh. He’s using my love language against me.
I ignore the fluttering in my chest as I accept it, noting how careful I need to be with him.
He’s smooth. Maybe too smooth. “I think that’s more information than he needs, Dolly.
Daniel doesn’t want to hear about my eating habits. ”
“Sure, I do.” He takes a bite of the fluffy biscuit, releasing some steam from inside. I can relate to the same need for a steamy release.
Dolly comes to stand behind me, a spatula in one hand and a dishcloth in the other. “Nothing wrong with your appetite, Summer. Look at her figure, Mr. Sutton. I don’t know how she packs it all in.”
He’s not even trying to hold back the laughter. “It’s a fine figure. And you can call me Daniel.”
She swats my shoulder with a dishcloth. “See, even Daniel agrees.” Kill me now.
“As fun as this is, I need to get over to the cottage. Mrs. Dover somehow got a plumber to come out today to look at the situation and hopefully fix it.”
“On a Sunday, the Lord’s Day?” It’s surprising to hear the disgrace in her tone when she doesn’t even go to church. She used to say no one had to be in a particular building to talk to God, and it was safer for her if she didn’t enter.
“Yes, on a Sunday.” I push up from the chair. Giving Dolly a hug, I add, “I need to get going. Thanks for breakfast.”
She wraps her arms around me. “You be good, okay?”
“Always am.”
“Too good if you ask me,” she smarts like it’s an inside joke with Daniel. He already knows I’m hard up. My grandmother confirming that to the world, a.k.a. the guy I’m interested in, is plain humiliating.
A chair grinding against the tile has me looking back. Daniel stands with his plate in his hand. “I’ll go with you.” The butterflies in my stomach flutter, or it’s the sausage not agreeing with me today. I’m hoping for the former.
Dolly clasps her hands together loud enough to startle me. “That’s perfect. You two run along while I take Roman to the dock to fish.” She collects Daniel’s plate and then mine. “What do you say?”
He pops up from his chair. “Can I stay and fish, Dad?”
Coming to stand beside me, Daniel asks, “Promise to listen to Dolly?”
Roman’s gaze volleys from his dad to Dolly, and he nods. “I promise.”
As I head for the door, Daniel moves around the table to bring him to his side. “I won’t be too long, buddy. But Dolly has Summer’s number if you need anything. You can reach me that way.” He places a kiss on his head.
“Okay.” The look Roman gives him causes my heart to clench and has me wishing I could capture the moment for them in a photo keepsake. He’s his hero, as it should be.
I grab my phone and keys on our way out the door. Stepping off the porch, I spy his car parked in the distance, also how it should be, and glance back. “Want to walk?”
“We can walk.”
There’s no rush in our steps, nerves making it awkward, or a pull to fill the silence. It’s notable, if not unusual, that we can be this comfortable together when we barely know each other.
The clouds have burned off, leaving us with blue skies, singing birds, and the ocean waves in the distance, if we listen.
We get past the lot the house sits on and walk next to the woods where we keep our secrets. At least some secrets. Others are becoming better known as Winter grows the honey business.
I peek over at Daniel when his gaze hooks on the houses across the street.
It’s easy for anyone to be physically attracted to the man.
From his face to his body, he’s practically otherworldly.
But it’s the other parts of him, not the ones that are visible but who he is, that tug at my attention.
Make me see him. He’s a good father, willing to wake the world for his kid to use the bathroom.
I smile, never actually upset to be woken for a good cause or desperate need.
He’d do anything for his son, including pausing on giving him a sibling until a valued relationship comes along. That’s sweet in such an unexpected way.
Our dreams aren’t so different from each other’s.
A significant other is the missing piece to making that dream a reality for me as well.
But this is temporary. The whole reason rule three came into play.
I can’t have him and the cottage. He’ll be back in New York City, and I’ll have my heart broken.
But he’s so flirty that my cheeks are in a constant state of blushing flux. It just feels good to be around him. The universe put the most perfect man right in my path, and I can only see a setup for heartbreak.
“It’s nice here,” he says from a few feet away from me with a kind smile that seems to be easy for him to summon when we’re together. “Peaceful. Was it a good place to grow up?”
“The best. It hasn’t changed much. We get shoddy internet, so more time was spent outside than indoors.
Friends from school are scattered all over the county, so my sisters were my best friends.
My parents, too. They always had something fun planned for us.
My mom would sneak in and help us make a blanket tent so we could hide under it and tell stories.
S’mores on a warm night down at the shore.
We used to have a picket fence around the front of the house that my dad had us paint.
Every picket was a random color. Didn’t matter how ‘girly’ it was, my dad loved to see us happy.
” Swinging my arms, I step over the cracks in the concrete.
“Dolly used to paint in the nude.” I laugh at the memory.
“Don’t ask me why, but I remember walking in on her in the middle of what she called her ‘Cove Series.’ Each was an abstract portrait of a man she dated. ”
“She’s quite the character.” The midmorning sunlight cuts through the trees to shine in his brown eyes, revealing a few stories of his own hidden inside.
“She is. She taught us never to be ashamed of being exactly who we are.”
“How’d that work out?” I can feel his gaze hot on me as if he sees through the front I portray.
Keeping my eyes ahead, I reply, “It’s a work in progress.”
“What others think doesn’t matter, Summer. Live life how you want. Do what makes you happy. We only get one shot at this. Might as well go for it.”
How does he manage to make me smile so effortlessly? I’m starting to think it’s going to be a permanent fixture on my face. “In other words, you miss every shot you don’t take?”
“Something like that.”
“What about you?” I ask. “Where’d you grow up?”
His gaze drops to the road beneath his feet. “Jersey City, but I don’t have many memories from there,” he replies, returning his eyes to meet mine. “We were rarely home due to travel league.”
“You’ve always been in the New York area?”