He pushed up and rested on his elbows, hovering above her. Her eyes locked with his, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“I’m an ass man,” he blurted out, causing her to laugh. He smiled. “I knew the moment you turned around and climbed those stairs that I had to get my hands on this.” He moved until his hands covered her butt. When he squeezed slightly, a low moan reverberated from his chest. “Yup, this is the finest butt I’ve had the privilege of holding on to.”
She chuckled. “I’ve never dated an ass man before.”
He stilled, then smiled. “Dated.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “So it’s official?”
She held her breath as she thought of it. Yeah, they were dating. Wasn’t that what he thought this was? Maybe he thought it was just sex? She pushed him off of her.
“What did you think this was?” She got out of the bed and glanced at him over her shoulder, then smiled, trying to keep it light. “Just a booty call?”
He laughed as she walked into the bathroom, then jumped up and rushed after her.
They showered together, this time sticking to just cleaning up; then she took almost half an hour to pull on the sundress she’d brought along and to fix her hair in a long braid that lay over her shoulder. She kept her makeup to the basics, since she didn’t want to keep Dylan waiting too long. Besides, she was starving for dinner—it had been hours since they’d had their lunch of sandwiches and beer.
She was a little surprised when, instead of them climbing into her old Honda, he opened the door to the beautiful Tesla Model 3 that was sitting next to her car. She’d admired it when they had pulled into the parking spot before.
She bit her lip and slid into the leather seats as he unplugged the car and then climbed into the driver’s side.
“I’ve always wanted to ride in one of these,” she admitted, looking at the computer screen in the middle of the dash. The car was sexy, just like him.
“It’s my newest toy. I gave up a 2017 Shelby GT350R for this beauty.” He glanced over at her. “I haven’t looked back.”
“Nice,” she admitted. “I’m a bit of a car snob.” She nodded to her beat-up Honda. “As you can tell.”
He chuckled as he pulled out of the parking garage and drove through the gates. When he turned onto the main road and hit the pedal, she was plastered back into the seat and squealed as the g-forces held her back.
“Wow!” She smiled over at him. “I actually felt my stomach flip, like it does on roller coasters.”
“Yeah.” He eased off and turned down another road. “It’s fast. It does zero to sixty in four point six seconds. But tonight, we won’t be going far. Tomorrow I’ll take you out on the highway with her.”
“Her?” she asked.
“Every sexy vehicle is a she. Her name is Jett.” He smiled. “She’s got a lot of kick, so she deserves a kick-ass name.”
She chuckled. “If your car’s name is Jett, what’s your jet’s name? Roadster?”
He laughed as he pulled into a parking spot in front of the Red Bar. She’d been there more than a dozen times and always enjoyed the music and the food.
“No—that one my dad had already named Stella.” He shook his head. “Stupid name.”
She bit her lip but chuckled. She watched him rush around the car and open the door for her. It was a good thing because she didn’t know how to open the door, since there were only three buttons, and she didn’t want to push the wrong thing.
“It’s this one.” He pointed at the button by her thumb.
“Good to know. I really like your car,” she added as they started walking into the restaurant. The place was crowded, and already there was a band playing on the small stage area in the front room.
They found seats in the back, near the bar, where the music wouldn’t be too loud for them to talk.
“Have you been here before?” he asked.
“Yes, the eggplant parm is to die for.”
“My favorite as well,” he agreed, then reached across the table and took her hand. “It was nice of you to change my days off to match yours.”
Her eyebrows rose. “I didn’t . . .” Then she sighed. “Elle. I thought it was strange that they meshed up this week.”
“Well, we owe Elle then.” He held up his water glass, and she tapped hers against his.
“To Elle,” she said.
“Speaking of which . . .” He set his glass down.
She sighed. “I suppose it was too much to ask to have a few days off from all this, but I understand, after hearing your father’s message.”
They took a moment to order drinks and food; then he waited for her to restart the conversation.
“Apparently, Elle has known your father all of her life.” She felt it was best just to come out and say it.
“What?” He frowned across the table at her. A crease formed between his eyebrows.
“She calls him Uncle Leo. She didn’t put it together—the three of you, connected to him—after we found out about your real name. Not until the other night, at the campfire. For most of her life, she just called him Uncle Leo. Not Leo Costa.”
“Uncle?” He shook his head. “My father didn’t have any family. Well, he had a sister that died when she was young, but . . . no one else. And,” he added, “my mother was an only child. So I don’t know of any cousins we might have.”
“No,” she replied. “Elle made sure to tell me that there is no relation—just that she always called him that.”
He was quiet for a while. “So”—he shook his head—“what does that mean?”
Zoey shrugged. “Apparently, your father was an old family friend of hers?”
“You sound unsure.”
“I am. After telling us this, she excused herself and rushed away. She hasn’t spoken of it since.”
He leaned back in the booth. “Did you ask her?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “She told me that she’d tell me everything when she found out more. I think that she’s trying to find him herself.”
“Do you think she knows where he is?” he asked.
“No, she’s been too busy with the camp to know anything more than you would. I think she might have an idea, like you. Elle is very . . .” She thought about it. “Determined.”
They were quiet, and she sat back to enjoy the music until their food came.
“Elle was raised by her grandfather, correct?” he asked after they had started eating.
“Yes.” She nodded and set her fork down to take a drink of her wine. “Her mother died when Elle was ten. The summer before we met, she moved in with her grandfather at the camp.”
“Being raised at the camp must have been . . . wild.” He took another drink of his beer.
“She wasn’t really raised there all of the time. Her grandfather had a house in Pelican Point. She owns it now. That’s where she spent her time when they weren’t at the camp for the summer. We each spend our days off from work there.”
“What happened to her father?”
“Elle doesn’t talk about him.” She shook her head. “Neither does Aubrey. We all have our own secrets and respect them.” She took another sip of the wine. “But we all know that he spent some time in prison when she was young. For what, we never could get out of Grandpa Joe. I don’t even think Elle knows.”
“Do you have secrets?” he asked, leaning closer.
She smiled at him. “I have you.”
He chuckled. “I think everyone in the camp knows what’s between us at this point.”
“What sort of secrets do you still have?”
He shook his head. “No changing directions. Tell me something you haven’t told any of your sisters.”
She thought about it, running over things in her mind, then came up with one and leaned closer.
“The night before I injured myself, I broke into the Olympic grounds in the middle of the night and ran around the softball bases, bare-ass naked.” His eyes grew huge as she shrugged and leaned back. “It
was a dare.”
He burst out laughing. “You did not.”
She nodded, then motioned to him. “Now it’s your turn.”
He shook his head and held up his hands in defeat. “I can’t top that.” He fake-bowed to her. “The queen of the field. I would have paid a million to see that.”
She laughed. “I’m thankful no one did. Well, except my team, who dared me. I only did it after I locked all of their cell phones in my locker. To make sure none of them slipped photos of me.” She waved the waitress down for another glass.
“No evidence?” he asked, a sad tone in his voice.
“If there was, it would have surfaced by now, especially after that picture of me and Roger Holloway circulated.”
“Right.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s where I’ve seen you before.” He sat forward. “So, what was between you and Roger?”
“Nothing.” She sighed heavily. “Only in my dreams.”
He reached across the table and once again touched her hand. “Don’t make me hunt the man down. I bet he’d kick my ass, no matter what sort of good shape I’m in.”
“I bet you could beat him.” She thought about it. “You’re about the same build.”
“Flattery.” He finished off his food, then pushed the plate to the end of the table as the waitress refilled her wine and took their empty plates. “It’s nice to know that you don’t have any problems running around naked.”
“Nudity isn’t an issue—it’s getting caught that’s the problem.”
“How many times have you been caught?” he asked.
She smiled. “Only once.” His eyebrows shot up. “But that was Elle’s fault.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. She screamed when a frog jumped into the pool next to her.” She remembered that first night they had been at the camp. “We had decided to sneak to the pool and go for a midnight swim. Of course, we had all started out in our swimsuits, with towels wrapped around us like shields. Then, out of the blue, someone, I can’t remember who, dared me to do a cannonball naked, which led to more dares.” She chuckled. “In the end, we all ended up shedding our swimsuits. It was so liberating, so . . . freeing. To not care about our body images. Teenage girls are the worst.” It was so nice, being able to open up to a man. It wasn’t as if she’d never enjoyed talking to a date before, but with Dylan, things were different.
She kept forcing her deeper feelings to the back of her mind to keep the mood of the night light. She was trying to convince herself that it had been just the throes of passion. She successfully avoided thinking about the topic for the rest of the night. That was, until they decided to take a long walk on the beach outside of his condo.
She strolled with him down the long boardwalk toward the water and held his hand as they tossed off their shoes and made their way across the white sand. When they hit the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico, they let it lap at their feet. She had to admit that she felt something she’d never felt before.
The fact was, what was between them meant something. She cared for him more than she’d cared for any other man before. Still, she struggled with knowing he was probably still hiding things from her.
“Is there anything else about your father’s disappearance that you haven’t told me?” she asked as they made their way back to the condo.
He stopped and pulled her into his arms. “No.” But when she arched her eyebrows, he added, “There’s a lot of money that’s gone with him. Money that was reserved for the business.”
She frowned. “How much money?”
“Lots,” he sighed. “Each year, Dad invests in the business.”
“Like an owner capital account?” They had all learned about the ins and outs of owning a business last year when they’d invested in the camp.
“Yes—for years Dad has been putting extra money into the family business. The board has come to expect that money, but this year, Dad took off with it instead.”
She tilted her head as she thought about it. “It’s still his money, to do what he wants with.”
“But the board is threatening to remove him as acting CEO.”
“He’s CEO and he’s been missing for how long, again?” she asked.
“Almost six months.”
She stood back. “I’m surprised the board hasn’t voted him off already.”
“They’ve given us until the end of the year.” He took her hand and finished walking up the boardwalk.
“To find him, or to force him to invest the money?” she asked as they moved into the light of the condo complex.
“Both.” He ran his hands through his hair.
“What happens if he chooses not to invest his money?” she asked.
“Then, we’re all left with scraps of our family’s legacy and business,” he answered as they entered the elevator.
“Property management, correct?” She remembered him telling her in Vegas but thought that it had to be more than just a simple property-investment company.
“Yes, property investments,” he answered, stepping out of the elevator. “We own a chain of condos up and down the Gulf Coast.”
“These condos?” she asked as he opened the door. She remembered now.
“No.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to live in one that we owned.”
She walked in, removed her sandals by the door, then followed him into the kitchen, where he pulled out a bottle of wine.
“How about we sit out on the deck and finish off this bottle?” He took two glasses down from the shelf, and she nodded.
“Tell me your magic grocery elves bought something chocolate, and I’m right there with you.” She smiled.
He set the bottle down and opened the fridge, where a container of chocolate brownies sat. “Brownies okay?” he asked.
“Perfect,” she said, looking at the man leaning over the opened fridge and realizing how fitting the word was for him. He was perfect. Too perfect. She knew that all good things tended not to last too long. Sooner or later, something came along and shook things up. She just hoped it wasn’t going to happen during the next two days.
She didn’t know how she was going to make it through the next two days and nights without blurting out her feelings for him. But she was willing to fight it as she savored her time with the most perfect man she’d ever enjoyed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dylan glanced over at her as she drove her car back toward the camp and wondered how he’d go another week without her in his bed.
“There isn’t any way I could convince you to move in with me and my brothers, is there?” He’d meant it as a joke, but instead of laughing, she glanced over at him.
“Joking.” He held up his hands. “I’m just trying to keep sleeping with you.”
Here she did chuckle. “Okay, so, at this stage, we’re at the ‘move in with one another’ part of our relationship?” She glanced sideways at him.
“Sure.” He shrugged. “I mean, the last two days were great, right? I mean, I found out in Vegas that you’re just as tidy as I am.”
“As you? Ha.” She smiled. “No one is as anal as you.”
“The last two days have been incredible.”
“They were great,” she agreed.
“Okay.” He relaxed. “So, would you?”
“Would I what?” She glanced at him again.
“Move in with me?” He waited, almost holding his breath.
“With you and your brothers in the one room you share at the camp?” She frowned.
“God, no. I mean . . .” He hadn’t thought about it. They were still at the camp and were most likely going to be until they found out everything about their father. Even if they did find their old man, he had no intentions of leaving the camp without Zoey, and he knew she wouldn’t want to leave. “I mean, shit.” He ran his hands through his hair. “How do we do this?”
“I have an idea,” she said, getting his attention. “We, the five of us, talked about what happens if we . . .
need a night alone. I’ll see if I can work something out.”
Reaching over, he put his hand on her leg. “I want more than just one night with you.”
“I’ll see if I can work it out,” she said.
“I’m counting on you,” he said as they pulled into the parking lot of the camp. She parked her car in her spot under the cover, and he got out and carried her bag into the main building.
He left her to go stash his bag in his room while she climbed the rest of the stairs to the third floor. His brothers were MIA, so he pulled out his phone to check the app for his schedule for the day. He had a run before lunch and one after. Most of the names on the list were new to him.
He changed into his cargo shorts and camp shirt, then made his way down the stairs, hoping to run into Zoey again soon.
Instead, as he walked down the path toward the zip line towers, he ran into Scarlett, who veered off the trail so that she could chat with him.
“So, you guys are back?” she asked. Scarlett leaned closer. “Don’t make me regret being nice to you with that scheduling help.” She turned on her heel and walked back down the pathway.
All in all, he figured there were worse places to work than a year-round summer camp.
After lunch, he was getting ready for his next group when he glanced up to see Ryan walking toward him on the pathway.
Her again? Holding in a groan, he tried to keep his cool as she stopped directly in front of him. Was she there to get the rest of her belongings or collect a paycheck? Either way, he hadn’t planned on running into her again.
“Can I help you with something?”
She squinted at him. “I thought you’d like to know beforehand that I’m going to the press.”
“About?” He’d turned so he could continue to lay out the harnesses for the next group, but when he heard her move up the stairs, he glanced over.
“Us,” she said directly behind him. “I’m going to tell the entire world about us.”
“There is no us.” He didn’t turn around to give her attention this time. “You know that.”
“There is an us. You promised.” Her voice had risen slightly.
Summer Nights Page 25
