Finding Summer (Nightwind Book 3)

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Finding Summer (Nightwind Book 3) Page 2

by Suzanne Halliday


  His grin felt enormous. She was going to say yes! “Water, wine, chocolate milk, your choice.”

  “Well, in that case, Arnie, I get off at nine. You can buy me a hot chai latte with extra whipped cream from Starbucks and tell me all about your questionable footwear and the origin of your name.”

  He liked that she accepted, but at the same time, set out her parameters. Smart girl.

  “I’m looking forward to it, Summer.”

  She smiled, and for a long moment, they stared at each other. Then a customer called out, a family bustled past, and the setting of a busy restaurant during the dinner hours came into focus.

  He did serious damage to the taco platter and agreed with the Yelp reviewers. The food was fantastic and so was the atmosphere. When Summer brought him the check tucked inside a fake leather folder, he didn’t look at the amount and quickly placed a hundred-dollar bill inside.

  “I’ll be right back with your change,” she muttered when a passing busboy bumped her with a tray.

  “Keep it.”

  It didn’t require years of training to read her expression, and he knew right away she wasn’t having it.

  Slapping the check holder open, she looked at one side, then the other, and finally at him. Her raised brows and the shade coming from her smoky eyes made his balls shrink.

  “I’m no math whiz,” she bit out, “but I know how to calculate a tip. Twenty percent of a twenty-seven dollar and ninety-five cent dinner check is barely six dollars.”

  The wedge of saliva he tried to swallow went down like a golf ball.

  “I will be back with your change,” she announced in a terse voice.

  Several F words flashed in his mind.

  Flabbergasted.

  Flummoxed.

  Fucked, as in he’d better get his shit together.

  Without waiting for him to react, she whirled around and stomped off in her cute, decorated sneakers. Her pissed-off body language was easy to read.

  When she returned, her stomping let him know she wasn’t going to let this go. He smiled. The smile got bigger, the closer she got.

  “Sixty-six dollars and change,” she snarled in a brittle tone.

  Unable to stop himself, he tested her reaction. “How bad will the freak-out be if I leave a twenty on the table?”

  Her answering smile was radiant, and for a second, he was happier than he’d ever been. Then she replied and wiped the grin from his face.

  “No freak-out necessary. You’ll just be drinking alone later.”

  “Ouch.” He had to smile. Her fire intrigued him.

  “Young and stupid don’t always go together, Arnie.” Her smile vanished, and she lowered her voice. “Do you not see how problematic it is to ask for a meetup and then drop an exorbitant tip? Payment up front?”

  What? He shook his head as an avalanche of panicked denials dropped onto his tongue. “Shit, Summer, no. No! Don’t say that. I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset with me.”

  The young waitress had a fierce side and wasn’t afraid to unleash it in his direction.

  “I looked up those idiotic shoes. They’re like eight hundred dollars! It’s not my job to care how you spend your money, but I’m not for sale.”

  His eyes dropped to the god-awful Gucci sneakers, and he cringed. “My aunt gave them to me,” he hurriedly attempted to explain. “Swear to god,” he added when she smirked.

  “Your aunt? That’s your explanation?”

  “It’s the truth,” he growled. “She’s a professional shopper, and I drew the chauffeuring short straw. Next thing I knew, we were at Paseo Nuevo with me as her shopping Sherpa. The stupid shoes were her idea.”

  One brow rose. “Paseo Nuevo?”

  “Yeah. And in addition to the thank-you shoes, I have several boxes of See’s Candies.”

  “Ooh, I love See’s.”

  Whew! Crisis averted. Pretty Summer was willing to get a coffee with him but had zero interest in his wallet. Furthermore, candy from the iconic LA chocolatier was an instant mood changer.

  “So does my aunt,” he quipped. “In addition to holding a gold medal in shopping, she has a special love for arcane facts and told me one while we explored the candy store.”

  “Do tell.” Summer chuckled.

  “How’s your knowledge of classic TV shows?”

  She gasped, and her eyes glittered. “Black and white?” she asked.

  Arnie grinned. “I Love Lucy?”

  “Of course.” She giggled. “Are you kidding? My dad was a big fan of the old stuff. The Honeymooners, Lucy, and one called Petticoat Junction.”

  “So you know the candy episode where Lucy and Ethel work at a conveyor belt with chocolates?”

  Summer giggled. “Classic!”

  “My aunt says Lucille Ball and Vivian Vance visited the See's Candy kitchen in Los Angeles to learn how they dipped and wrapped the chocolates. The store on La Cienega. The visit led to the comedy bit.”

  “Seriously? That’s awesome!”

  So this is what it feels like to rescue one’s own ass from the fire, he thought with no lack of self-congratulations. For whatever the reason, it mattered what this golden girl thought of him.

  Knowing when to hold and when to fold, he saw his chance to leave on good terms and stood quickly. She backed up two steps. Her face held a startled quality.

  “Good lord”—she chuckled—“you’re rather big, aren’t you?”

  Oh lady, you have no idea how big.

  Shut up, he growled to the seventeen-year-old boy in his subconscious. The one who filtered everything through a sex lens.

  He lifted a shoulder and offered a lazy smirk. “It’s an optical illusion.”

  She glanced down and pointed at the shoes that sparked their encounter. “The size of your feet is not an illusion.”

  “Summer! You wench! Are you commenting about my, uh, size?”

  An adorable and very pleasing blush colored her pale skin. Pleasure engulfed his senses. The women he knew would have issued a challenge with the wicked innuendo. Summer’s obvious mortification suggested she wasn’t the type.

  She feathered blond hair behind one ear and looked away. “I wasn’t flirting,” she mumbled.

  He reached for her hand, felt the tingle when they touched, and gave a gentle squeeze. “I know.”

  Her eyes climbed slowly to his. With a smile, he said, “I will meet you at Starbucks promptly at nine.”

  Summer nodded. “On the corner.”

  “I know the one,” he answered.

  They smiled through an awkward moment. He put exactly six dollars on the table as a tip, nodded, and headed for the door. When he stepped outside, Arnie inhaled deeply and blew out a centering breath.

  He looked at his watch and calculated how much time he had to kill. Long enough to go back to the hotel, shower, and change his damn shoes.

  2

  The tile walls and floor of the restaurant’s bathroom gave off the usual January chill as Summer stripped off her uniform, rolled it in a ball, and stuffed it along with her sneakers into the bottom of a backpack.

  Sliding into a pair of flats, she stood in her bra and panties inside the large handicapped stall in the senorita’s bathroom and willed herself not to shiver.

  Digging into her makeup bag, she found a sample size tube of Miss Dior body milk and squeezed it dry while rubbing it all over her body.

  Shaking out a stretchy balloon sleeve sweater dress she haggled for at a thrift store, Summer held it up and sighed. It was all she had so it better look okay.

  The soft sweater-like fabric felt lovely against her skin. Burgundy was one of her favorite cool weather colors. It made her blond hair stand out. Though casual, the dress’s deep V-neck and cuffed balloon sleeves gave the outfit a wow factor.

  There was nothing she could do about the plain flats. They were all she had with her. Arnie’s height gave her the perfect opportunity to indulge in something higher and sexier, but alas, she was out of luck this ti
me.

  “Oh, well,” she mumbled out loud.

  After vigorously brushing her long hair, she shook it out and let it fall where it wanted. At the sink, she quickly washed her face, then applied the sunscreen-infused moisturizer she’d been using for a decade. A hasty swipe of her favorite neutral lipstick followed by a spritz of perfume and she was good to go.

  The full backpack was too awkward to lug around, so she stuffed it into her work locker and reached for her small purse.

  Her stomach growled as she made a hasty exit, waving good night to her co-workers. Blessed with a racecar engine metabolism, she could eat twice her weight in cookies and cake and burn it off before bedtime. She never regretted eating but felt at times like she should apologize for being on the thin side. It wasn’t as if she had a svelte body because she worked at it. Not at all.

  She double-timed her pace and hurried to the corner Starbucks. Arnie wasn’t hard to find—not when he stood guard at the front door.

  Summer slowed and hid behind a large, potted bush at the corner of the building. Peering through the greenery, she studied his appearance.

  The guy was extraordinary. Far from the standard issues guys she knew, he stood from the rest. He had deliciously broad shoulders. His chest tapered to a narrow waist. He was blessed with long legs and had tree trunks for thighs. His coloring gave him the look of a Viking warrior or a sun god. Adonis came to mind, and she sighed. Comparing him to the god of beauty and desire was a no-brainer. He was that good-looking.

  Dressed in a pale blue button-down shirt, sleeves rolled back, and a pair of perfectly fitting dark slacks, he gave off a strong masculine vibe. Nibbling on her lip, Summer thought about the young twentysomething guys of today. There was a world of difference between grown boys wearing backward baseball caps and the fully adult male waiting for her.

  His chin went up, and he appeared to study the air. Then his head turned toward the planter, and she froze. He smiled, shook his head, and checked his watch. She took advantage of the distraction and hurriedly sashayed around the planter.

  “Ah, Summer.” He chuckled when she was a few feet away. “Good evening.”

  She very nearly stumbled as his sexy growl wrapped around her heart.

  “Arnie,” she sighed breathlessly.

  “You look lovely,” he told her with a pleased grin.

  When she was in front of him and could move no closer without it getting weird, Summer found she had to tilt her head to look up at him. The sensation of being small and fragile rattled her as much as the warmth in his gaze.

  “You clean up pretty nice too, Arnie.” She leaned in. “You smell nice.”

  His laugh was big and husky. “I’m glad you like it. Christmas present from my boss.” He chuckled.

  She sniffed and smiled. “What’s it called?”

  “I’ll tell you if you promise not to Google it. Your web search proclivities didn’t help the sneaker situation.”

  “Oh, dear. Is it made with contraband ingredients?”

  “No.” He laughed with a throaty bark. “Not contraband but definitely pricey.”

  Studying his face, she looked for a reason to apply caution but felt nothing of the sort. He laughed easily and didn’t appear put off by her directness. Plus, he scored bonus points by ditching the god-awful footwear, and splashing on expensive cologne. Getting to know him wasn’t a mistake.

  Crossing her fingers behind her back, Summer smirked playfully and nudged him with her elbow. “Lucky you.”

  “How so?” he responded with a curious expression.

  “Rich aunt and a boss who hands out expensive gifts.”

  Something flashed on his face, but it didn’t linger long enough for her to pin down the significance. Then he winked and sniggered with all the swoony charm of a movie hero. “My watch is from Tar-jay.”

  “Your watch is from Apple but kudos for shopping a good deal.”

  He opened the door and with a gallant bow waved her into the store. She walked in ahead of him and looked around. Starbucks was always busy. The café seating area was usually overcrowded, and tonight was no exception.

  “I see a table,” she told him. “Over by the window, next to the fireplace.”

  He glanced over her head and nodded when he saw the empty table. “You stake a claim, and I’ll get our drinks. Hot chai latte with all the extras, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Anything else? I’m getting a scone or a piece of pumpkin bread. Or maybe a cheese Danish. Anything sound good?”

  “Yes,” she drawled on a long sigh.

  “Which?”

  Summer giggled. “All of it. And grab extra napkins.”

  He looked surprised for all of a second and then shrugged. Saluting, he turned her toward the table, leaned in, and spoke close to her ear. “Grab us some real estate, Summer.”

  Unless she was hallucinating, he either patted her ass or bumped into her when people jostled them.

  Taking a quick breath to bolster her confidence, she zigzagged the café dining room and placed her purse on the empty table. It was next to the window but close enough to the gas fireplace to feel some of the ambient warmth.

  She watched him make his way through the order line. He waited patiently. When it was his turn at the counter, he engaged the barista, and at one point, his head tilted back when he laughed.

  Taking a chance on a complete stranger might not be her brightest move, but Summer couldn’t help feeling there was something different, something special about the big, scruffy blond with the enormous feet and devilish smile. So, in a way, there was no other choice but to allow the strange encounter to play out. She had to know more—find out who he was and why he was so compelling.

  A giggle shook her when he made his way from the counter to the table. He carried two very large drinks while a store employee followed behind with a veritable armload of food. He must have taken her seriously when she said she wanted it all.

  How cute!

  “For the pretty lady,” he announced in a witty drawl, “one venti hot chai latte topped with a gargantuan mound of whipped cream and a light sprinkle of cinnamon powder.”

  Placing the beverage on the table, he teased her about the nutritional content. “According to the phone app, there’s a startling number of carbs.”

  She blew him off with a snort. “Pfft. Whatever.”

  His chuckle and grinning reaction came off as very pleased.

  The server laid out an assortment of goodies, handed off a stack of napkins, and told them to enjoy before rushing off.

  When Arnie went to take the chair across from her, she shook her head and patted the long, cushioned banquette. “Sit here, it’ll be more fun.”

  He looked skeptical but did as she asked.

  Totally invading his personal space, she crowded close and peered at his drink. “What’d you get?”

  “Boring dark roast. Extra sugar, though,” he admitted somewhat bashfully. “An old habit that I find hard to break.”

  “I dislike coffee. As a drink,” she quickly amended. “Love it as a mood setter. There’s something familiar and comforting about the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen.”

  “Coffee as an air freshener.” He nodded and laughed. “I like how you think.”

  He did? Well, damn! In that case, she might as well keep babbling.

  “Those pod machines are fast and convenient, but they don’t bring the same mood. There’s no aroma—nothing wafting in the air to trigger the senses. I like the old way, I guess,” she added with a shrug.

  “Experiences are important,” he agreed. “Our senses account for most memories. If I think about it, I can remember what my father’s breakfast coffee smelled like.”

  He reached into the pile of treats and pulled a thick slice of lemon pound cake toward him. “Hand me a napkin,” he said and then split the cake in two and handed her half.

  Summer eagerly accepted. When she took a bite, the moist cake filled her mouth with
buttery lemon goodness and sweet icing. She followed it up with a few swigs of the hot chai.

  “Mmm, nutritionally questionable but oh, so yummerific.”

  Arnie chuckled. “Yummerific. I like it, and I really like this cake,” he emphasized with a smirk.

  A woman across the room caught Summer’s attention. She casually elbowed the man at her side. “See that lady? In the purple zip-up hoodie? I betcha she’s a writer.”

  He looked up and followed her gaze. They stared at the woman in silence for thirty long seconds.

  “What makes you think so?”

  She caught the tone in his voice. He was genuinely curious—not about the woman but about Summer’s thought process.

  Sipping her drink, she relaxed against the back of the comfy seating and angled her body toward her engaging companion.

  “She keeps opening and closing her laptop. There is an empty cup next to the one she’s sipping from. When she unzips the hoodie, you’ll see her T-shirt says Bitch Goddess. Her hair is a mess, and if you’re really observant, you’ll notice she’s wearing unicorn slip-ons instead of shoes.”

  Summer watched Arnie’s eyes dip as he checked for the quirky footwear. “Who are you?” he asked with a deep chuckle. “Nancy Drew?”

  Gasping with delight, she bumped against his side and laughed. “You know Nancy? Where have you been my whole life?”

  “Don’t ask me why or how, but there was a time when a DVD of the 2007 movie was a favorite. I’ve watched it probably fifty times.”

  Her entire body tingled with awareness. Oh, yeah. This man was special.

  The woman she’d been watching suddenly moved and opened her laptop. “Look, look!” she exclaimed. “Oh, my god. Watch her! Her lips are moving. She’s reading out loud.”

  Arnie played it casual and draped an arm behind her on the top of the banquette seat. He took a sip of his drink and turned his head to watch the woman.

  “She’s chuckling. Do you think there’s a laugh track?”

  They watched her pound away at the keyboard for a moment, laugh, and then close the lid again. Then she picked up a phone, still laughing, and her thumbs started flying.

 

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