Summer Heat

by Sanders, Jill

“You and your brothers are keeping secrets,” she said easily when she settled beside him in the water.

  “Everyone has secrets.” He had turned toward her, and when he felt his knee bump against her, he smiled. “I bet you have a few yourself.”

  She flipped her sunglasses up on her head as the slow sway of the waves edged them together. “Redirecting is a classic sign of hiding something.”

  “Using psychology on me?” He hadn’t realized he’d reached for her until his palm was touching the soft skin on her back.

  “Maybe . . .” It came out as a whisper.

  “Did you take classes?” He noticed a darker look cross her face. “See, you have your own secrets.” He nudged her closer until their bodies were rubbing against one another. He couldn’t help it: at that moment, the only thing going through his mind was getting her closer, feeling her, being with her.

  Forgotten fully was the plan of trying to find out if Elle knew anything about his father or even the idea that she might be or had at one point been one of his father’s conquests.

  Now, the only thing he could think about was the soft feel of her body next to his.

  CHAPTER SIX

  She was in trouble. Deep trouble. She’d sunk into the hazel pools of Liam’s eyes and was drowning. His hands were running up and down on her back, causing little shivers to race through her body. Even with the warm water of the gulf surrounding her, she felt her body shudder under his touch.

  She thought it had been a good idea to hint to Bob that he should pass on the information to his kids and invite them to the beach that day. She needed Carrie to run interference with Liam. Besides, she knew her friend had a way of asking a ton of questions without coming across as pushy. After all, she’d finished two years of law school before deciding she wanted to become a small business owner instead and returned home to open a small but successful boutique along the beach.

  Carrie likely knew that if Elle asked for her help, it was most likely to protect the camp and their investment.

  How different he was from her ex—not just in appearance but in attitude. Liam had taken her friend’s questions in stride and had laughed and joked along with both Carrie and Rob.

  Jeff had never liked any of her friends and had always made her feel bad whenever she wanted to be around anyone other than him. Not to mention that he’d been very outspoken about Rob’s life choices.

  When she’d met Jeff in class, she’d believed that since he was going to school for his law degree, he’d be more open minded. It wasn’t until after they had started dating that she’d felt like he was boxing her in.

  She didn’t want to think about Jeff or the mess she’d left in Colorado. Nor did she want her past to be brought up while she was trying to get information out of Liam.

  Liam had avoided a few of Carrie’s questions by asking his own. Of course, Carrie, being totally enamored of a sexy male giving her attention, had fallen for his tricks. Elle was stronger than that.

  Wasn’t she?

  “You never really said if you went to school.” Her hands went automatically to his shoulders when a strong wave knocked her into him. His grip on her waist tightened, and then he settled with his arms around her.

  “I went for a while.” He shifted her and blocked the next wave with his body. “Did you study psychology?”

  “Yes, what did you study?” she asked, turning the tables back on him quickly. After all, two could play at this game.

  Seeing his smile, she knew he understood the match.

  “History and marine biology.”

  That surprised her. “Those two usually don’t mix.”

  After she was knocked into him, he shifted slightly again so that his back was to the oncoming waves. His wide shoulders shielded her from the onslaught of the coming water. She tried to keep from exploring his wide shoulders with her fingertips but found her hands moving on their own accord.

  “History goes with anything. As one of my professors always used to say, ‘One must know where one has been to know where one is going.’”

  “And the marine biology?” she asked.

  “At one point, I was thinking of moving to the Keys to help repair the coral reefs. I met my best friend there, Carl.” He smiled. “I could go on about how the reefs are disappearing”—he took a deep breath, and his gaze landed on her lips—“but I’ll save that lecture for another time. Why psychology?”

  “I wanted to dig deeper into what would cause man to do what he does,” she said, pushing off from him to wade back to shore. He stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “I know about your father,” he said, his hand stroking her arm under the water.

  “Then you understand,” she said, searching his expression. Most everyone she’d met knew about her parents. What her father had done. It wasn’t as if it was a big secret, since there were tons of local articles about it. It had been the first murder in the small town in more than a century. Which meant that it was a very popular topic.

  “I didn’t hear . . . specifics, just the basics of what happened. Did you find answers in your classes?”

  “Not really.” She looked toward the horizon to compose her thoughts. “Instead, I found more complications.” She thought back to when she’d met Jeff in one of her classes and the wasted time she’d spent with him. “So, I moved back home.”

  “You mentioned a boyfriend. John?”

  “Jeff,” she answered, the smile she used to shut down conversations slipping. “He’s the complication.”

  Liam went silent for a moment, and she felt as if she was under a magnifying glass once more.

  Her friends had looked at her like he was now when she’d been dating Jeff, as well as every time that her skin had been bruised because of his temper.

  “Something tells me that if I ever ran into the man, I’d walk away with busted knuckles.” He pulled her closer again. The warmth of his body heated hers further under the waters.

  “On the surface, everyone had seemed to like Jeff.” Except her friends. She didn’t know why she still defended the man. It irritated her. Maybe it was hard to admit one’s mistakes.

  “But?” He waited.

  “But there was a darker side to him.” She still remembered the last time he’d hit her. The feeling of the back of his hand against her cheek—the sound of it. How she had fallen and bruised her knees because he’d caught her off guard once again.

  Squaring her shoulders, she slipped into the logical part of her past’s history. “One in every three women will experience physical abuse by an intimate partner in her lifetime.” She closed her eyes. “In men it’s one in every four.” She glanced toward Rob, who was busy talking to his sister, laughing happily. Her heart skipped at seeing the change in him since she’d returned home. He’d grown from a skinny, scared man to a confident one who didn’t give two shits who hated him because of his lifestyle. “Maybe it’s why we grew so close after I moved back. I convinced Rob to leave his then partner.”

  “Beautiful and caring,” he said with a frown.

  “Why do I get the feeling it’s not what you expected?” she asked, seeing the distant look in his eyes.

  “Like I said, I know about your parents.” She saw the change in his eyes. The look so many else had given her over the years. The look of pity.

  “It’s not a secret,” she said reluctantly.

  “No, it has been mentioned in articles about you and the camp,” he agreed. “What wasn’t is how it affected you.”

  She glanced around for a moment and knew that he was wondering if she was going to continue talking. Maybe share something that none of the articles had mentioned. Even now, the subject was a sore one for her. What memories she had of her parents she wanted to hold inside.

  “I was a child,” she finally said. “My father killed my mother because he was—I don’t know, a jealous man—who claimed she was having an affair, or maybe it was just another way to control her.” She looked back at him. “I guess
the apple . . . and all that.”

  “Hey.” He took her hand in his. It was strong and full of callouses and yet somehow still smooth feeling and soft. “The difference is, you got out.”

  “Yeah.” She exhaled. “There is that.” She gave him a weak smile.

  His eyes locked with hers, and for a moment, she thought he was going to lean in and kiss her. Then his hands dropped from her skin, and he shifted away quickly.

  “You wanted a drink.” He waited until she’d moved to the shore, and then they sat in silence until, eventually, more people showed up. “I thought you said this beach was private?”

  She’d been a little surprised at the number of visitors, but she figured it made everything feel very organic. She knew that she was loved, and seeing her grandfather’s friends show up to surround her on the beach proved it even further.

  “It is. Only a handful of Joe’s friends know about it.” She smiled as a game of cornhole started.

  “Want to play?” She nodded to the game.

  “Sure.” He stood, dusted the sand from his shorts, and held out his hand to help her up.

  Later, when they got hungry, food was shared and passed around. He’d been handed a beer, which had signaled that her friends considered him on the approved list.

  She’d been thankful her friends had shown up; she’d overheard him answering several questions from John, who used to be an interrogator for the CIA.

  Afterward, Carrie, Rob, and everyone else trickled away a few at a time before sunset fell. And then they were alone on the stretch of beach once again.

  “I think you set me up,” Liam said, sitting in the sand next to her. They had just come back from cooling off in the water once more.

  “Oh?” she asked, pulling her hair up into a messy bun. “How so?”

  “John.” He said the man’s name as if that explained everything. “Come on, I know that man must have worked for the CIA at one point.”

  She laughed. “He did.”

  Liam snapped his fingers and pointed in her direction. “I knew it. If you wanted to find out more about me, all you have to do is ask.” The smile on his face was pure cockiness. The fact that it suited him didn’t even scare her.

  “Okay, why are you and your brothers at River Camp?”

  His smile slipped slightly, and he glanced out toward the water. “Work is work.”

  “Don’t make me get John back here,” she warned.

  He surprised her by chuckling. “We used to live in the big house across the water.”

  “The one Reed Cooper lives in?” she asked, thinking of the handsome older man who had everyone in camp speculating that he was also some sort of spy.

  Liam shrugged. “I don’t know who owns it now, but, well, we heard about the camp opening again, and we were curious. Besides, we needed jobs.”

  “Is that why you’re sneaking around at night?” She watched humor flash across his face. “We have cameras everywhere, remember?”

  “We did agree to help out with security at night . . .” he started, but the look she gave him shut his mouth.

  “You were sneaking around long before that conversation,” she pointed out when he only chuckled, as if it was some sort of game.

  “Evening walks. I take them all of the time—we’ve talked about this.” Even though his tone was light, she noticed that he was avoiding her eyes. Then he turned to her. “How about we find someplace to eat dinner?” He shifted. “I’m starving.”

  “Changing the subject?”

  “Just hungry,” he said with a smile.

  She had known that he was stalling but figured she could still learn more by just simply being around him. After all, that was why she hadn’t followed her own plan for her days off to return home alone and have a glass of wine while finishing her book.

  “Sure, we can eat at the Sunset Café.” She stood up and stretched. Then she turned to start collecting her things, but he was there, gathering her towels and books.

  He carried her beach bag and the chair back down the pathway toward the Jeep as the sun sank farther into the horizon.

  “Why open the camp again? Why not sell the place and move on?” he asked as she started the Jeep back down the dirt lane.

  “It was my grandfather’s wish,” she answered easily.

  “But the thought of selling must have crossed your mind?” he asked, causing her to glance over at him.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not once.”

  “Why snowbirds? Why not privileged girls? Like it used to be?”

  She chuckled. “We thought adults would be easier than kids.”

  He smiled. “Seriously?”

  She nodded and turned onto the main road. Mud and sand spit up from her rear tires as she sped toward town. She loved hearing it fly by and hit her wheel wells. Lived for the feeling of plowing her Jeep through the dirt.

  “Something tells me you love mudding,” he joked and glanced behind them at the trail of mud she’d left behind her.

  “You don’t?” she asked.

  “I never really thought about it.” He shrugged. “I’ve never owned a four-wheel drive.”

  “Never?” She shook her head. “Pity.”

  “I’ll say this again—you didn’t strike me as a dirt lover.” He reached over and played with the strands of hair that had fallen out of her messy bun that she’d tied her hair up in for the ride back into town.

  She laughed. She’d heard the same thing all her life. Even Jeff had acted appalled when she’d suggested they go up into the Colorado mountains with her Jeep.

  “There has to be something you do that is out of the norm.” She slowed the Jeep down as they entered town.

  “No.”

  She glanced over at the tone in his voice. “You’re lying.”

  She waited.

  “I paint,” he finally admitted.

  “As in, oils and watercolors?” she asked, interested.

  “Yeah,” he shrugged, as if embarrassed.

  “So you work with wood and paint?” She parked the Jeep in front of the café. “I can see that. It’s not really out of the ordinary.”

  “It is.” He turned away from her, and she got the hint that he was very self-conscious about his pastime.

  “I’d like to see some of your stuff sometime.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “It’s private.”

  “Do your brothers know you paint?” she asked.

  “I’m sure they do.” He shrugged.

  “But you haven’t shared it with them?” She didn’t know why she was poking him further, but she just had to know more.

  “No.” He looked so uncomfortable that she caved to the pity and decided to change the subject.

  “I didn’t tell my sisters . . .”

  At his quick look, she smiled and added, “My friends. We consider ourselves family. Anyway, I didn’t tell them about Jeff.” She stilled as memories of the abuse she’d suffered surfaced. Jeff had built her up at first, made her feel warm and loved; then, after she’d committed to the relationship, he’d turned. Tearing her down and belittling her had been his goal, all while trying to control her every move. The embarrassment of what she’d allowed to happen had been so overwhelming. She still struggled with it today. “I hid what he did to me from them. It broke their hearts. I still haven’t talked to them about it, not really.”

  “Being abused and being a painter are not even in the same field,” he said as he reached his hand out and took hers.

  “No, but family is family, and sharing who you are with them matters,” she replied.

  The fact that he remained silent told her that he was thinking about it, deeply.

  “Food.” She broke into his thoughts. “Come on, they have really great steak here.” She jumped out of the Jeep and met him at the front door.

  For the next hour, they ate and enjoyed the company of the local café. The fact that, once more, she was surrounded by people she’d known most of her life and that
Liam was acting relaxed and comfortable had her more at ease around him.

  Since the library where she’d bumped into him earlier sat directly across from the café, she figured they would go their separate ways after dinner.

  Even as the conversation outlasted the setting sun, she had to admit that she’d never before laughed with or enjoyed being around someone as much as she had with Liam.

  Her relationship with Jeff had been . . . strained. She’d been a different person around him. She’d been the person she’d thought she’d wanted to be instead of being herself. Still stuck in her make-believe self she’d created all those years ago.

  After she left him, she swore no man would ever again get her to be anything other than who and what she was. She was determined to not even fake anything for herself. From now on, in life, Elle was going to be herself. One hundred percent.

  Conversations after the meal continued with questions; he would ask one, and she’d follow up with her own questions.

  By the time the café was closing, she figured she had as much information on Liam Rhodes as she was going to get in one day.

  Not that she’d learned why they were at the camp, but she did get better insight into who he was. He really did love the outdoors as much as he claimed. Working with his hands had been something he’d always desired to do. He made it very clear that he wasn’t the kind of guy who could put on a tie day after day and sit behind a desk.

  The way he’d brought up the subject of her mother had even been different from how anyone else would have. She was used to being looked at with pity, but she hadn’t seen any in his eyes as he’d talked to her. Instead, he’d watched her closely as if gauging her emotions, and when he’d seen that the subject was causing her pain, he’d changed it.

  After paying the bill, which she had convinced him to allow them to split, they walked out of the front doors to the warmth of a Florida summer night.

  “This was one of the things I missed in Colorado.” She took a deep breath of the salt in the air.

  “What?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Walking out to the warmth.” She took another breath. “I was in Colorado in the fall and winter months.”