Not Over You (Holland Springs)

by Valentine, Marquita

  “My granddaughter’s pretty, isn’t she?” he asked, handing over another card and a piece of paper to sign. “Last week I showed off the picture she drew for me to all the bank board members. Said I had a Georgia O’Keefe in the making.”

  How grandfatherly he relayed this information. How totally hypocritical. “Lorelei loosen your leash?” She flung the card into her purse, uncaring where it landed.

  “My wife has accepted my choice.”

  “Ivy’s not yours, not by blood,” she pointed out, wanting to wipe that proud look off his face.

  “It doesn’t matter to me.” He took off his glasses, polishing the lenses with a soft cloth. “I’m trying to be a better man.”

  Summer made a noise of disbelief. The world was short of good men, much less better ones.

  “You haven’t been treated right, and neither has Rose…and in some instances Skye, but things are different. The old guard is passing and with the influx of new people, things are changing. For the better.” Harrison had always had a way with words. He could also read people, like Rose. Maybe she’d inherited that from him, and not some supposedly witchy ancestress.

  “Good, because I plan on staying here for a very long time, whether the old guard likes it or not.” She stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment.”

  “With whom?”

  “It’s really none of your business.” Besides, if he knew, then he’d find a way to tell Rose, then she would come back, and Summer would lose her nerve.

  Her sisters’ happiness had always been her biggest weakness.

  Chapter Five

  Summer stood at the edge of the party, near the white tent in the middle of the expansive gardens at The Chesson House Bed and Breakfast. Out of habit, she tipped up her chin, and fisted her hands on her hips, daring anyone to take a jab at her, but no one did.

  She shivered in the shade of a great oak tree.

  No one noticed her at all, just like Jemma Leigh said when Summer had shown her the invitation Rose had received to the Montoya-Wilson rehearsal party.

  Except one man.

  He stood apart. Tall and broad shouldered, with hair black as a midnight sky. Despite being too far away to actually see the color of his eyes, she knew they were deepest blue and framed with heavy, long lashes.

  Gabriel Edwards had a beautiful face to match those eyes, but unlike some men, he didn’t use it against women. No, he saw through a woman, made her feel guilty about her past deeds (true or fabricated)—and crimes she hadn’t yet committed.

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.

  Elise moved closer to him, her brows so tight Summer was sure she was furious. Yet he kept staring, lips full and lush enough to tempt a saint. A wave of heat passed through her, and she couldn’t stop the shiver following in its wake.

  Elise whispered in his ear, making him smile, but then his attention turned back to Summer and a frown appeared. Of course he wouldn’t smile at her. Why would he ever smile at her?

  Why did she still want him to smile at her?

  She gritted her teeth to keep the scream from breaking free.

  He started in her direction, and try as she might, Summer couldn’t stop her heart from racing.

  Finally, he was coming to her. Though she had to acknowledge that she came to him, first, by showing up to a party that Rose had been invited to because she’d been the one to introduce the couple to one another.

  His gaze flickered over her. She shivered again. “Did you bring a sweater?”

  “Too much skin for you, angel?” she cooed, fully aware her dress showed nothing at all. It barely dipped in the front.

  His lips thinned, but his voice and demeanor remained the same. Calm, helpful, and exasperating. “You looked cold, standing in the shade, and with that dress—”

  “Noticed it, did you?” She smoothed her hand down the front. “Lustful thoughts are a big sin, angel, even for someone as pure as you.”

  He frowned. “Can’t we ever have a normal conversation?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you need to leave. Crashing a rehearsal dinner is a little much, don’t you think?”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. “I think I have an invitation, and your name wasn’t on the RSVP.”

  He gently grabbed her arm, and a thrill of awareness passed through her. “Don’t do this, Summer. Carlos and Shelia are nice people. They don’t deserve whatever you have planned tonight.”

  “So no lap dances for the groom-to-be. Got it,” she said with a smile. Inside though, everything hurt. Everything was wrong.

  “Summer Jean Holland,” he growled. “Stop it, right now.”

  She managed to blink up at him. “Did you want one instead?” Tilting her head to one side, she peered at him through her lashes. “I suppose I could work you in.”

  His eyes closed, briefly. “Come with me.”

  “Like I have a choice,” she muttered as he practically dragged her by the arm across the yard.

  He led her to the other side of the tent, where the sound of voices and music were drowned out by distance and generators.

  “So how did you meet Mary Sue Perfect?” she asked, and then cursed herself for sounding like a jealous witch. Forget sounding like one—she was one.

  “Elise and I met at The Sweet Spot, before Daisy closed shop and moved.”

  “Isn’t that special?” she sneered.

  His gaze sliced across the way. “At the time, I thought it was very special.”

  She followed his gaze and frowned. The bridal party sat at their tables, laughing, eating, and toasting. He probably wished he were with them, with people who knew what fork to use, exactly what to wear for every occasion, and how to make small talk.

  She fixed her attention back to Gabriel. “Don’t let me keep you from the future Mrs. Edwards. I’m sure you two will have plenty to keep you busy on your honeymoon. Lots of Bible reading and speaking in tongues. Although, the laying on of hands is probably a no-no. I’m sure Elise can find tons for you to read on making love, though application is necessary—not just single-handed experimentation.”

  His head whipped around so fast she was sure if it hadn’t been attached, it would have frisbeed across the garden. He blinked at her, and then a smile covered his face, victorious.

  Running away would be really good right about now, but her feet wouldn’t move. Heat crept up her chest, then neck and cheeks. “What?”

  An annoyingly adorable dimple appeared in his left cheek. “You’re jealous,” he said with an incredulous laugh. “Summer Holland is actually jealous over me.”

  Oh God. She’d gone too far. “I am not,” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Yes, you are. It’s eating you alive to know that I’m with Elise, that I haven’t been by Carolina Dreams to see you, and that you were the one to come to me, and not the other way around.”

  Summer couldn’t deny the truth, but she also didn’t have to acknowledge it. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

  Gabriel watched as the roses that had bloomed on her cheeks withered away, leaving nothing but too-pale skin. Maybe he should give her a break, but it had been a slight balm to his damaged ego to know she was jealous. Okay, so, it had been more than a slight balm. It had been a heady rush all the way to his toes and back.

  Summer was jealous. Of him.

  But hearing her deny it in a voice he hadn’t heard in years…well, it had skewered him straight through the heart. She’d looked…heartbroken. The sun had chosen to hide behind the clouds at that very moment, shadows washing over her beautiful face and lending credence to his theory.

  And wasn’t he a big man for getting one last dig in at her?

  Summer glared at him, arms crossing. This woman he recognized. The familiar Summer had returned. Nose tilting, face defiant, and attitude at the ready to make everyone uncomfortable. A thousand ugly memories invaded his mind. Daring him, it seemed, to prove her right. That he was the h
ypocritical, holier than thou, son of a preacher she regularly accused him of being.

  Not that she was far off.

  Despite apologizing to her, despite helping her whenever she needed it, she hadn’t let up on him. “I wish you and Elise nothing but the best.” Her voice was sharp, breaking into his memories.

  “That’s very kind of you.”

  Silence reigned as her pretty brown eyes narrowed. “Why was Elise holding the bouquet when I showed up?”

  “We stood in for the bride and groom, during the rehearsal.”

  “Oh.” She scrunched her nose. “Why?”

  “It’s bad luck, remember?” he added. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe they could have a civil conversation.

  She fisted a hand on her hip and said, “Isn’t it a sin to believe in luck?”

  Not this again. It always came back to this. Her perception of him, his life, his work, and his family. He couldn’t please Summer, not when he’d fallen short of being there for her when it had counted the most. Since then, he tried his damndest to catch her whenever she fell. But as soon as she felt his arms around her, she shoved him away. Or took his money and his truck.

  But could he really accuse her of taking something he freely gave?

  It didn’t matter, not this time. This time he would remember. This time he wouldn’t let his need to be her knight in shining armor get in the way of his happiness. He could be happy with Elise. She was… He mentally floundered as his brain searched for adjectives to describe a woman like Elise, but all he could come up with was the opposite of Summer.

  “Why are you here?” he asked. “Money or a place to stay?” Better to get this out of the way, so he could help her and then she could do what she needed to, and leave. Just like always.

  Panic flared in her eyes, and then… hurt? She blinked, and it was gone. “Why does it matter, unless you want me in your bed? I think I could lower my fee for you, for old time’s sake and all.”

  And so it began. The verbal sparring that did nothing for him or for her. It only served to widen the gap between them, and no matter what he said, the more time they spent together, the worse it became.

  “What are your plans?” he asked, gentling his tone.

  “Oh, the usual—seduce every available man in Holland Springs.” That cute nose of hers, one that he used to kiss at every opportunity, tilted up in the air. A big clue she was full of it, or embarrassed. Possibly, she was both.

  “When you’re ready to have an adult conversation, I’m here, but until then, be nice to Elise and everyone else.”

  “Don’t worry, Elise already warned me away from you,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Like I could convince you to take a walk on the dark side.”

  “What do you mean she warned you?” Elise hadn’t said anything about meeting Summer.

  “It was nothing, really.” Summer shrugged. “I don’t remember most of the conversation, just the gist of it.”

  “Yet here you are,” he murmured.

  “I plan to stay here for a really long time. You can’t make me leave this time.”

  He’d never wanted her to leave, not matter what she thought, but if he denied it, then they would start yelling at each other, and this night wasn’t about them. It was about Carlos and Shelia, two great friends who deserved a night without drama.

  “Have fun tonight.” He turned to walk away, but she stopped him with the lightest of pressure on his arm.

  “Want your truck back?” Keys jingled near his ear. “The shocks are shot to hell from all the off-road riding I’ve been doing. But you can fix that. You were always good with your hands, angel.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger, he closed his eyes and counted to fifty. It didn’t help. He opened his eyes, then looked down at the hand on his elbow, at the simple silver ring on her pointer finger, and fought to stay calm.

  Finally, he managed to say, “Keep it.” Then he gently pulled away, careful not to embarrass her, and walked away.

  It didn’t occur to him until he’d sat down beside Elise, that it was the second time in his entire life he’d had the strength to walk away from Summer.

  And it cut as deeply as the first.

  Chapter Six

  Gabriel stared at the silver truck sitting in the parking lot. It sat off to the side, under the yard light.

  Over the years, he had missed driving it. It had been the first brand new vehicle he’d ever owned, but it wasn’t the vehicle he’d picked Carlos up in. No, his used red truck was parked beside Elise’s sedan. Despite the flashy color, it had nothing on the silver truck. No bells or whistles. Only four-wheel drive, a radio, and working a/c.

  He moved closer to the truck, inspecting the body and finding it in nearly perfect condition. Opening the driver’s side, he leaned in to find the interior as pristine as the body and the key stuck halfway in the ignition. Jerking them out, he dropped them in his front pocket and locked the door.

  Where was Summer? Concern welled up in his chest, making his collar tight. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. He had watched her as she disappeared inside the old house, but had lost track of her after that.

  Bits of oyster shells crunched under his dress shoes as he walked out to the road.

  Looking right, and then left, he found the road empty. Maybe he should take a quick ride down the road, toward Strawberry Grove, to make sure Summer was okay. Sunset was the worst time for someone walking down the side of the road. Visibility for drivers was horrible.

  Then again, would she welcome his concern? And why did he keep thinking Summer was his concern?

  He jammed a hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys, grimacing. As if he really needed to ask himself that question.

  “Ready to go?”

  Gabriel turned and found Carlos, grinning at him. “Dinner’s over. Bachelor party begins.”

  At Gabriel’s silence, his buddy’s grin fell. “Oh come on, man. Don’t do this.”

  “Do what?” The truck keys burned in the palm of his hand. Gabriel knew exactly what his friend didn’t want him to do.

  “Go chasing after Summer.” Carlos nodded at Gabriel’s truck. “You got your truck back. Be done with her.”

  That was the problem—he and Summer were never done. They had too many unanswered questions, too many what ifs. There was no water under the bridge for them. Their bridge was six feet under, and the river was still swelling.

  “She doesn’t need to walk home by herself. It’s almost dark.” He reached in his other pocket, drew out the second set of keys, and tossed them to Carlos.

  “Not every woman wants to be rescued, Gabe,” Carlos said as he caught the keys. “Sometimes a good buddy needs rescuing from himself. Let’s round up the guys and go.”

  Undeterred, Gabriel shook his head. “It’s the right thing to do. I can’t leave her out there.”

  Carlos frowned, running a hand through his hair. “How about this—we stick to the plan and check on Summer as we drive to Wilmington. If she’s okay, we keep driving. If she’s not, we call the cops and still keep driving. I’m sure there’s a warrant for her arrest for something.”

  Gabriel knew Carlos was trying to be a good friend by offering to save him from a woman he thought was bad news. He’d known Summer as long as Gabriel had, longer really, since Gabriel hadn’t moved to Holland Springs until he was nine. But it still pissed him off. “Don’t be a jerk.”

  “I’m being a realist.” Carlos held up his hands in surrender. “But hey, if you want to ruin what you have with Elise, who am I to stop you?”

  Crap. He’d forgotten about her. Yet another reason Carlos’s warning made sense. However, when it came to Summer, right was wrong, down was up, and left was right.

  “I’m checking on the woman, not marrying her,” Gabriel snapped.

  His buddy rolled his eyes and dropped his arms. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Duly noted.” Gabriel sm
iled, already at the truck and opening the driver’s side door. He jammed the key in the ignition, but hesitated at turning it. The last time he’d found her walking down the side of the road, he’d picked her up and had driven to The Pointe. From there, things had gotten really hot, steaming up the windows hot.

  He’d been all of seventeen and Summer fifteen. They’d spent the entire months of July and August making out in his old, beat-up truck. But he wasn’t seventeen anymore. He was a grown man with goals and accomplishments that had nothing to do with Summer.

  Keep telling yourself that.

  Gabriel wiped sweaty palms on his khakis, started up the truck, put it in gear, and made a left onto Highway 13. As he drove, fireflies dotted the fields and ditches along the road, blinking in and out of sight. The closer he got to Strawberry Grove, the more fireflies appeared.

  The sun slipped under the horizon, making his running lights visible along the blacktop. Great. Just great. How was he supposed to find her?

  Light glowed from the forest of pine trees by the old Holland place. He slowly braked, put the truck in park, and rolled down the passenger side window, watching as the bugs blinked on and off.

  Before he knew what was happening, he’d unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door, and strode into the forest. He crept through the woods, quiet as a predator hunting his prey, and then came to a sight that stole his breath away.

  Summer, all alone in a meadow of spring flowers. Well, if you didn’t count the hundreds of fireflies dancing around her.

  Laughing with pure joy, she waved a hand in the air. The fireflies followed her movements, reminding him of kids playing with sparklers on the Fourth of July.

  His gut clenched.

  The fireflies continued their dance, moths joining in. Something swept passed him. He followed the blur and realized it was a bat, mostly likely trying to eat the conveniently provided snack.

  Summer laughed again, drawing his attention back to her. She threw out her arms and spun around. He felt himself drift closer, like he was one of those moths… and she the flame.