Page 617 of Summer Heat
I turn, pick her up, and throw her over my shoulder. “Speech over,” I call out to all the guys. “Get back to work. Jack, you’re in charge. Let the architect know when he gets here that I’ll reschedule our meeting for this afternoon or whenever he has time this week. Summer and I are taking the morning off to discuss a few things.”
I know this isn’t all classically romantic. It’s damn near primitive. But this is the only way I know how to show how fucking much this woman means to me.
Fortunately, the guys get it.
They hoot and holler and cheer as I carry her off to my truck.
When we get there, I put Summer down to study her reaction.
She’s smiling.
Thank fuck.
“So, cabin or penthouse?” she asks as she plucks my keys from my pocket. An admittedly tight extraction given the current fit of my jeans. “Because I think you know my vote.”
“I take it you’re driving?”
“It’ll get us there faster.” Going up on her tiptoes, she gives me a shy, sexy kiss. “But,” she adds graciously, her cheeks warming to a fucking adorable shade of pink, “I’ll let you ‘drive,’ so to speak, once we get there.”
Christ, I am never going to get enough of this woman.
“Drive,” I tell her.
We get to the cabin in record time.
And as soon as we get out of the truck, she looks over at me and says out of the blue, “Okay, maybe I’m not exactly like one of the guys,” surprising a smile out of me.
Seriously, I just never know what’s going to come out of those pretty little lips of hers. And I fucking love that. I want to keep getting surprised by her unique take on things; I want her to keep showing me all the quirky, interesting, cutely insane things about her that make her Summer.
“I can’t throw you over my shoulder to make a big romantic gesture,” she says thoughtfully, seemingly genuinely put-out by the observation. “But, I would if I could.”
I pull her into my arms. “Is that your way of telling me that you kind of, sort of like me too?”
She smiles and says softly, “Yes.”
Epilogue
; | JASON |
- Ten Months Later -
FRIDAY
(Time: 11:49 p.m.)
I hear a loud, turbulent knocking on my door, and it’s just the best fucking sound ever.
The guys took Summer out tonight to celebrate the end of the project. They invited me, of course, but I wanted her to have her time with her crew. Plus, I had preparations to make.
I check my watch. The guys held true to their word and made sure to have her back to me by midnight. Perfect timing. I take one final look around the penthouse to make sure I didn’t miss any details. It occurs to me then how little I miss this place.
About six months ago, I finally convinced Summer to pack an overnight bag and stay with me at the cabin since it’s so close to the jobsite. Since then, we’ve spent most of our time up there, only returning here to the city a few times a week whenever one of us has a meeting in town.
Frankly, I hate coming back here. Mostly because Summer insists on going to her place to “give me space” while she does laundry and whatever it is she does when she’s away from me.
I don’t like it one bit. The penthouse feels like a fucking lonely-ass prison without her in it.
