Chapter 16
DANIEL
“Your middle name is Sky?” I rub her back, holding her in my arms in bed. “Summer Sky Season?” It probably shouldn’t surprise me anymore. “Your parents went all in.”
She giggles against my chest, her finger never slowing from drawing figure eights across my skin.
“Yep. They did.” I didn’t think I’d be in her bed tonight, but it made no sense for me to be on the couch after what happened in the bathtub.
Her words. Not mine. I would have been sleeping on the sofa if she hadn’t flipped the covers open and told me to get in.
“Want to know what my sisters’ names are?
” She tilts her head up to look at me. “Ready?”
I’ve met two because they all seem to be running on different schedules.
Understandable at the point they each are in their lives.
Summer, as the oldest, is eager to carve out her place, to have something all her own, and to put her energy into.
I’m thinking it’s because she’s losing the role she’s played in each of their lives.
I have years with Roman before he takes off for college or pursues whatever he decides, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know the absence is coming.
Faster than I’d like. Transition is hard, but it’s life. “I’m ready.”
“Summer Sky. Autumn Leaf, Winter Snow, and Spring Lily. We tease that Autumn won the lottery with her name, so playful nicknaming led to us calling her Fall when we were little. It just stuck. Now, if we dare to call her Autumn, she’ll correct us.”
“It’s impressive and original.”
Pushing up, she rests her weight on her hand. “You called me Sunshine?”
I’m not sure of the question posed. I act on instinct in hockey, and I’m smarter than I’ve been given credit for, usually underestimated as a dumb jock. With Summer, though, I do what I never do and follow my heart. “You are. Every time I see you, it’s like the sun has come out.”
Her gaze dips down as if the compliment is too much to hear, though her smile gives her away. I reach up and touch her cheeks that are warm for me. “What about your parents? What were their names?”
Her eyes flick back to mine, brightening her entire expression. “You want to know my parents’ names?”
“Of course, I do.”
Angling toward me a little more, she says, “Faith Loving.” The inspired tone prompts her smile to grow, as if hearing the name itself created it.
“That’s beautiful.”
“She was. She was so beautiful. I can sometimes still hear her laughter. It used to ring through this house, reaching every corner.” Her gaze drifts to the room around us, and she sighs.
When she turns back, she says, “My dad was Charlie. Charles officially. Charles Duke Season. Charlie Season and Faith Loving.” She lies back in my arms, her breathing even, which I prefer.
With her hand flattened to my stomach, she keeps her head down.
“Do you want to talk about your parents?”
“No. I like your world better.” The response feels like a betrayal.
My mom deserves better than to be lumped in with my father.
Draping an arm over my head, I say, “My mom is Janie. That’s what everybody calls her.
” I glance at Summer. “Janie Sutton. She wasn’t perfect when I was growing up and had her own struggles with my father, but she did the best she could.
She’s better without him, even as a mom. ”
“When did they divorce?”
Running a hand through my hair, I’ve carried the burden of their relationship most of my life. “She stayed until I helped her get out. I bought her a place of her own.”
Summer slides up next to me, her head resting on the seam of the two pillows to stay close.
I glance at her and can’t find an ounce of judgment in her fine features.
I do find an assuring smile, forgiving at the ends like the corners of her eyes, leaving room for me to say what I need to get off my chest. “I’ve never really talked about this stuff.
” There’s a pause. When I look at her again, I can see the hesitation and concern deepening her blue eyes. “I feel okay with you.”
She presses her palm to my cheek. I lean into it, and she asks, “Why don’t you talk about it?”
“There was no one to talk to.”
The release of a heavy breath has her lowering her hand and slipping it against mine between us. She whispers, “You can talk to me, Daniel. I’ll always listen.”
I reach up and take her chin between my thumb and forefinger, studying her the way her eyes hold truth to the offer. “Where’d you come from?”
“I was right next door.” Her smile shines light into the darker corners of my heart like I’m seeing the sun rise for the first time. Sunshine.
“I’m starting to think you’re heaven-sent.” I lift to kiss her once. It’s gentle like she is and as sweet as the taste of her.
And then she kisses me, letting her lips linger against mine. When she leans back, she says, “I’ve been right here all along.”
The urge to kiss her again, to deepen it, and run my hand over her body to make her come again is potent. The need to be inside her and claim her in ways that make her mine is even stronger.
As much as I want to make love to her, I can still hear one of her sisters’ electric toothbrushes buzzing from the bathroom down the hall.
Another just arrived home, and tiptoeing apparently isn’t a thing around here.
Every noise is an echo for someone else’s ears.
I don’t want to be quiet with Summer. I want to feel every inch of her and hear each moan and my name falling from her lips from ecstasy.
When she can’t conceal a yawn, I slide down the mattress, bringing her with me until we’re lying down again. I can’t make love to her, but I have the privilege of spending the night holding her.
Cuddled into the crook of my arm, she says, “It won’t be hard to act like your girlfriend for the cameras.”
I peek at her out of the corner of my eye. “You don’t think so?”
“No. It’ll be like we are right now. No acting required.”
I don’t remember the last time I had a girlfriend. Mia and I never got there. There might have been one or two in college, but after that, they were more of a distraction than a benefit to my life, especially as my career was taking off.
With Summer in my arms, this feels right. Right timing. Right place. Right girl. She’s right. “I like that.”
“What’s that?”
“The no acting required.” God, I love her smile. I kiss her forehead and say, “Sweet dreams, Summer Sky.”
“Sweet dreams. Wait . . .” Popping back up on her elbow, she says, “I don’t know your middle name.”
I’ve been dreading this. “Don’t laugh.”
“I’ll give you the same courtesy you gave me.”
Chuckling, I scrub my hand over my face. “I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass one day.” It’s not like she can’t find it online. I glance at her and just say it. “Stanley.”
She mulls the name, as if it doesn’t quite make sense. “I don’t get it.” Her eyes widen. “Oh, is that your trophy? The chalice?”
My laughter is louder than I intend, but God, I hope she never fucking changes. “Yeah. The Stanley Chalice.” Still chuckling, I hold her closer. Kissing her head once more. “Good night.”
“Good night, Daniel Stanley.”
I’m still smiling after I reach over and turn out the lamp on the nightstand. Settling in with her, I ask, “Are you tired?”
She bursts out laughing. “I am. Go to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I close my eyes, but I open them again, waiting for them to adjust to the dark so I can take another look at this woman.
I can’t think of anything I did to deserve her, the grace she’s given me, or the way she sees me as everything I’ve not been.
I’d been thinking I was sent here as a punishment.
It’s a reward. She is. And holding her now is an honor I didn’t earn. But I will. “Are you asleep?” I tease.
“Daniel.” She giggles right after, and her arm tightens over me. “Good night.”
“Summer? Summer.”
I open my eyes to the sound of my son and swirls of paint on the ceiling I didn’t see last night. They’re pale yellow and vibrant in the daylight. He calls her again, his voice too distant to be in the house. I sit up and look around.
The bed next to me is empty, made up like no one slept there.
The room is clean, not too much clutter, but things are here and there—a desk with necklaces hanging off a mirror’s edge, and makeup in a bin propped on top.
A leather journal and black mother-of-pearl-looking pen.
I bought my mom a pair of earrings with that same design one time.
“Your turn.” Roman’s giggles stream through the window with sheer curtains and a chain of stained glass green leaves hanging from the top of it.
Flipping the covers off, I go to look out in time to catch Summer flying off the swing under the tree near the water.
She makes a perfect landing as my kid cheers. He makes everyone feel like a hero.
Resting my palms on the sill, I feel different, like a switch inside me was flipped.
It could have been making her come in the tub. I take pride that I ended that drought, though I’m not sure if that’s the only dry spell she meant.
My guess is that waking up in the middle of the night holding her did the damage. How am I supposed to sleep alone now that I know what it’s like to hold Summer Sky all night?
And to see her with my son, to see how carefree he is with her, and being here in the Cove makes me feel like I’m finally doing something right by him. And me. I needed this without realizing it—until I was in the middle of a place only found in storybooks.
Summer leans down, cupping her hand to Roman’s ear before they both look up and wave. Guess I’m busted. “Come on, Dad,” he says. He doesn’t have to ask me twice.
I need to take a shower and eat something because I’m starving. But I pull on my shorts and shirt from yesterday since they’re handy and brush my teeth. No way am I missing this opportunity with them. Or kissing Summer with morning breath.
Rushing down, I hear the kitchen door swing open like I’ve lived here my whole life, and Dolly saying, “Don’t run in the house, Daniel,” from the other side of it.
I slow. “Sorry, Dolly.” But as soon as my feet land on the back patio, I’m running again. Scooping Roman in the air, I spin him and then give him a big hug. “How’re you doing, kid?”
“Good.” Settling with his legs around me, he leans back, knowing I’ll never let him fall. “I got cookies last night.”
“Oh yeah? So the folklore is real?”
He pulls up with his arms wrapped around me. “I got two with M & M’s in them. There were four cookies, but Summer said the elves must have taken the rest.”
My eyes meet hers over his shoulder to catch her holding back her laughter. I look into my son’s eyes, never seeing them so clearly until now. “Sneaky little devils.”
When I set him down, he’s off to the swing again.
I steal the time to look at Summer in her sundress. The skirt is blowing along with her hair as she uses her hand to shield her eyes when looking at me. “How are you this morning?”
Her smile flows onto her face so naturally when she looks at me. Mine does the same when I see her. “So good. How are you?”
I’ve wondered if I should hold back and keep my feelings under wraps, not only for others but for Roman.
But I know my son. I know he wants to see me happy, and damn, this woman makes me happy.
I pick her up just to see that blue sky and her matching eyes at the same time. “I liked last night with you. A lot.”
And when I lower her down the front of me, I get a quick kiss before she looks around to see if we got away with it.
“Me too, and not just because I benefited.” Tapping my chest, she adds, “Although I really, really did.” Her eyebrows pop at the end as if she has all sorts of things not appropriate for others on her mind. “How’d you sleep?”
I step back, though all I want to do is invade her space to keep her close. “Couldn’t have slept better.”
“Watch this, Dad.” That singular phrase probably ends in an ER trip more times than not. I watch but brace myself.
I turn in time to catch Roman jump off the swing midair and land on the lawn. “Great job, buddy.”
“Maybe I should do gymnastics?”
From hockey to gymnastics? Not the most direct route, but if it makes him happy, I’m all for it. “Talk to your mom when you see her next.”
Dolly calls to us, “If you’re hungry, come get some breakfast.”
Summer asks, “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
Roman runs to my side and holds my hand. “Starving.” The little mimic.
Ten minutes later, we have full plates and a full table, though Fall is missing again. She left before the sun rose, I hear, to make another shift at the hospital. And Winter is out with the bees collecting honey. “You’re running a bee farm?” I ask after drinking some orange juice.
Summer nudges me. “Winter will correct you and call it an apiary or bee yard. I don’t know what her issue is with the bee farm, but I think it’s funny she cares so much.”
“It’s her business,” Spring says. “What’s the update on the water situation at the cottage?”
“None,” Summer replies. “The guy was a con artist who planned to bilk Mrs. Dover out of her last dollars. The update I do have is still being worked through.” She glances at me with the smallest shake of her head to keep the messaging aligned.
I’m the last one she needs to worry about. I’m the king of keeping things private. Comes with the territory.
Summer takes a sip of her coffee as the group goes quiet, too busy eating for conversation. She sets her mug down, and says, “I think we should go into town later.”