Page 45 of XOXO, Summer
Summer looks at him over her shoulder. “I need to speak to your dad for a few minutes. Why don’t you head down and hang out in the family room with Dolly?”
His eyes dart to mine. I nod, giving him the go-ahead. He runs out the door, and the pounding of each of his steps on the floor echoes into the bedroom.
Summer turns around with a question digging a line between her brows and hanging on her tongue. “I can’t stop thinking about that call with Mrs. Dover and your offer.”
She’s not asking me anything, but I can sense her needfor answers. “I haven’t changed my mind, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Moving in, she runs her nails lightly over my stomach. Her touch is intimate, but I wish I wasn’t wearing a shirt so I could feel its full impact. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know that it feels right. It’s too much money.”
“I’m not going to force you to take the money.” I sit on the bed again, not wanting to tower over her for this conversation. “I hope you do in keeping with your intentions. They’re good, Summer. If you can save a place that you love and keep it going for other people to enjoy as well, it makes sense.”
“I’ll never be able to pay you back. As a rental, it won’t generate the kind of income that would let me make a living, care for my family, and pay to fix up this house. Some profits will always have to be reinvested in the cottage for upkeep. In this case, thousands to fix the plumbing is just the start.”
I could blow that money in a weekend in Vegas and already donate four times that amount in a year. It’s not about the money, but I know what it’s like not to have that access, to never dream making that kind of money is even possible. If I say the wrong thing, I come off as showy. If I don’t, she won’t accept the offer.
And now the lines between us are so blurred that I risk her pulling away as if she’d have to choose only one.Me or the money.
Taking her hand, I bring her to stand between my legs. While she doodles on my thigh, I say, “I don’t know what to do here, Summer. It’s not that I don’t care about the money. It’s that to me, the cause is worthy.”
“I’m the cause?” The affront has her jerking away, losing contact. There’s no anger in her words or distorting herpretty face. Something else takes hold, and her eyes glass over. “Instead of daydreaming about boys and going on a first date, I was making funeral arrangements for my parents. Dolly was broken, and the girls were too young.” Turning away from me, she walks to the window that faces the oranges, pinks, and blues of the setting sun. She sucks in a staggering breath, as if the tears are ready to fall. “I can’t be a charity case again.”
“You’re not a charity case.” I stand, my words getting mixed up in my head as her turmoil reaches me across the room and sinks in. She’s wounded by a past that will always haunt her, and I’m making things worse. “I didn’t mean to imply?—”
“I don’t want to be saved, Daniel. I wanted to do this on my own.” She turns back, steeling her temperament until it reaches her posture. Amazed by her resolve as she works through scenarios, I remain silent, a sounding board for her. “I paid for my college and part of this house. I don’t have enough of my inheritance left to cover the purchase of the cottage. Even if I hadn’t had the other expenses, I can’t compete with the offer on the table.”
Unable to stop the sympathy she hates from storming inside me, I go to her and caress her cheek. “Tell me the truth, Summer. When you talk of your inheritance, is that from your parents’ death?”
“It was the life insurance payout. That’s what we got in exchange for their deaths.” A tear slides from the inner corner of her eye, trailing down her cheek. She had me convinced by her determination, her steady voice when she spoke of the issue. It was all a facade, and I have no doubt she’s managed to convince everyone in this town that her brave face is more than surface deep.
It’s not. She’s just become a good actress. She’s survivingthe waves of grief when they roll through. But she’s also scarred so badly on the inside from holding it in that it’s going to drown her one day. I kiss the trail, then wipe it away with the pad of my thumb, careful not to scratch her with my calloused hands.
The tears dry, and she punches out her chin like she’s got something to prove. Not to me. I’ve seen her strength and what she does for others. Saying anything will make it worse. I won’t make her feel ashamed for sharing how her heart feels. “I’m sorry you lost them. Your sisters and Dolly are lucky to have you.”
I hear the harsh swallow and see the softening over her eyes. “Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me.” She’s not heard it enough. She hasn’t been given a thank-you because everyone was trying to survive the best they knew how. She’s a caretaker, so that’s what she did.
I’m starting to wonder if she can accept care herself. There doesn’t need to be a loan involved. I’d give her the money, but I know she’ll never agree to it on her own. Playing to her strengths and to what gives her comfort, like control over the situation, is the only way to break through to her. When she moves toward the bed, I walk to the chair in the corner, resting one ankle on the opposite knee, and ask, “What if we put rules in place?”
“The devil is in the details.” Hugging one of the four posters of the bed, she drags a small gold butterfly pendant back and forth along a thin chain. “What do you suggest?”
“You set the terms.”
“That simple?” Her laughter holds no humor, but she appears to be willing to entertain me by the gentle slope of her smile. “I set the terms, and you agree? That’s a lot of money to take that kind of risk.”
Dropping my foot to the floor, I lean forward. “What if there’s something in it for me?”
“An exchange.” Her expression lifts as if she already has an idea. “A thought crossed my mind earlier.”
“Okay, throw it out and let’s brainstorm from there.”
“I need to get comfortable for this.” She climbs to the middle of the bed and crosses her legs. Presenting her hand out like a platter, she says, “You’re helping me with my problem, which I never pay you back for in its entirety, and I help you out with your problem?”
“What’s my problem?”
“Your image.”
I sit up when the idea hits like lightning. “Oh damn, you’re right.” Her smile spreads across her face, her demeanor already shifting for the better. I cross the room in three steps and sit in front of her. “Why didn’t I think of that?” Her shrug is so blasé like this is no big deal when it changes everything. “You’re the one.”
“The one woman you mentioned, right?”
