Page 12 of XOXO, Summer
The slightest of eyerolls is given before she asks, “Why do you say that?”
I feign innocence. “Do I say it that much?”
“Yes, you do. I wasn’t really thanking you, and you claimed it like I was.”
“Does that bother you?” I tease. She’s too much fun to play with, and I can’t help myself.
She scoffs, but I catch the smile burgeoning at the corners of her mouth. “It bothers me that you answer with questions redirected at me like we’re in therapy.” She pokes my chest as she enters the place like she owns it. “News flash, we’re not.”
We may not be, but now watching the sway of her ass, it was worth irritating her. She walks with such purpose that following her inside is the only option. Stopping shy of the kitchen, she turns around fast like there’s something she needs to confront. Or someone.
Me?I grin in anticipation, but instead of words hitting me, her eyes land solidly on my hardest muscles and take in the view.Definitely me.
“If my being shirtless is too big a distraction?—”
“What?” she stammers as her gaze tries to find a safe place to travel that’s not on my body. The lamp, the window, the couch, the rug, her sneakers. “I hadn’t even noticed.” Her shoulders pop the slightest of shrugs, confirming she doesn’t believe her own words.
“It was pointless to get dressed?—”
“You’re fine.” She sighs as if she’s caught in a reprimand. “Notyou’refine. Though you are, but I mean, it’s fine that you are . . .” Her hand flies out toward me, and she shakes it like I’m summed up easily that way. “Not dressed.”
“Thanks.” I grin, appreciating this version of SummerSeason best. She’s cute when she’s flustered. “Since I couldn’t shower, I stayed in my trunks?—”
“You really don’t owe me the details, Mr. Sutton.”
Ah.Guess this is how it’s going to be . . .
But that’s fine. I can play along. “I wasn’t expecting you to come so fast.”
Her jaw hits the floor, my words lingering in the air. The innuendos are coming to me quicker than usual today. But like in every other part of my life, I peak at just the right time.
She swallows like a lump is stuck in her throat. “I . . .” She usually snaps back without missing a beat, but she seems to struggle to find the words she wants this time. After searching the ceiling and the floor, she finally replies, “It sounded like an emergency.”
“So you walked over?” She didn’t have a car parked out front. Chuckling, I cross my arms over my chest. “Anyway, I wouldn’t call it an emergency.”
“You sure about that? I wanted fresh air. It’s a beautiful day.” Her tone is lighter, her smile natural as she finds her stride again. “It gave me extra time to imagine you in that cold water?—”
“You’ve been thinking about me?” I walk to the kitchen but stop and whisper in her ear, “Naked?” Catching the scent of honey and flowers has me stealing a deep inhale before I move on.
“Oh my God. No.” She staggers for a breath with her hand gripping the base of her throat. I have a feeling she’d be clutching her pearls if she were wearing them. “I would never?—”
“That’s too bad.” Behind the peninsula, I ask, “Water? Soda? Somethingstiff?”
A heavy exhale leaves her chest as she turns and starts tracking me. “I’ll pass. Where’s your son?”
“Napping. We were on the road early. After spending time in the sun, he’s wiped.”
“I love napping on sunny days. Rainy days even more, though. The sound of the raindrops hitting the house, tapping against my window, or lying on a hammock on the front porch as a rainstorm rolls through.” Her eyes have softened, giving up whatever internal fight she was having. “I don’t know, it’s relaxing like nature is forcing us to take some time to slow down.”
Summer is adorable when flustered, but right now, with her armor down and revealing a part of herself that feels almost intimate, she’s beautiful.
“I don’t remember what it’s like to nap, much less on a rainy day,” I say.
Her smile is softer this time. “You should try it while you’re here. We get storms rolling in out of nowhere, and then it’s bright and sunny again an hour later.”
“I’ll have to do that.”
She looks so at ease here that it’s hard to imagine it’s not where she lives. That same smile falters as she shifts her weight to the other side of her body. Our gazes are still locked together as if we’d lost the key. She clears her throat, breaking our gaze and glancing at the floor. “I think it’s best if I take care of what I came here for and let you get on with your vacation.”
