Not Over You (Holland Springs)

by Valentine, Marquita

  She pretended to consider his words, and then lunged for him. He moved out of her reach at the last minute. “Take it home with you and put in on your mantle like a real man,” she giggled, chasing him around Carolina Dreams. “He’ll watch over you while you sleep.”

  “Rather have you glowering at me in my sleep,” he said, laughter rumbling from his chest. The sound made her so happy. He made her happy.

  “So the rumor is true.”

  Summer and Gabriel simultaneously stopped and turned at the same time.

  Elise stood just inside the door, red hair swept up, displaying a dainty earring on each lobe, while wearing a pencil skirt with a form-fitting white blouse that highlighted her curvaceous figure to perfection.

  “Hi, Elise,” Gabriel said, taking the stuffed fox from Summer and setting it on a nearby counter. The bridge of his nose flushed. Was he embarrassed at being caught with her? He glanced at Summer with a pleading look in his eyes, before turning his attention back to Elise.

  Summer felt herself melt a little. He wasn’t embarrassed. He was worried about Elise’s feelings and her feelings, even though she’d been the one to instigate everything.

  “I…We…” he began but Summer wasn’t about to let him apologize for something he hadn’t done.

  “We didn’t mean to hurt you,” Summer said, taking a step toward Elise. “Sometimes things just happen, and Gabriel and I have a long history.

  “How sweet of you to think of me like that.” Elise marched up to Summer. “Do you believe in physical violence?”

  Confused, Summer answered honestly, “As a rule, no, but there are times when a situation calls for it.” Like after Patrick Johnson tied her to the bed and took what was owed to him.

  “Good.” Elise slapped Summer so hard that her head whipped to one side.

  Pain flared out, to her ear and eye socket. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she whimpered, cupping her cheek.

  Gabriel was at her side in an instant, gently turning her face and sucking in air through his teeth. “Are you okay?”

  All she could do was look at him through a sheen of tears.

  “Yeah, I know, seriously dumb question.” He kissed her forehead, and she thought she heard Elise hiss.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, then his eyes got all hard. Summer wanted to flinch again, but he fixed his furious gaze on the redhead still standing there. “You broke up with me, not the other way around, and she’s not responsible for our decisions.”

  “Yes, I am,” Summer whispered miserably. “You saw us in the park, and that’s why you broke up with him.”

  “No,” Elise said, shocking her. “I broke up with him, because it’s one thing to be second to a memory. It’s quite another to have to be second to the real thing.”

  “I didn’t make you second,” Gabriel insisted.

  Summer backed away, going to the cabinet in the corner to find a purple jar with some ointment to ease the swelling and redness on her cheek. It had to be red and swollen, because it stung like hell.

  Elise shook her head. “I wasn’t about to give you a chance, but seeing the two of you… It just pisses me off that I wasted so much time on you.”

  “I never looked at it that way.”

  “You never had to, women flock to you, you idiot.” Elise huffed. “Men, it’s so easy for you. Get older and you look better. We get older and have to compete with younger women who y’all think look better than us.”

  “Gabriel’s not like that,” Summer said, rubbing in the lotion. Immediately, the stinging lessened.

  “They’re all like that.” Elise gave Summer a hard look. “I wish I could say sorry and mean it, but I can’t. It felt good, and you deserved it anyway, for all the other relationships you helped destroy.”

  Gabriel heard Summer’s sharp intake of breath and almost cursed.

  He knew what she was thinking, what Elise had planted in Summer’s brain. Soon, it would take root, and all the weeks of trying to build something new would wither away and die.

  “Then you might want to hit the other one then, for my future misdeeds,” Summer snapped, marching from the back of the store to where Elise stood. She tipped up her chin and turned her head to one side. “So very many men and so very little time.”

  Forget soon; it was instantaneous. He briefly closed his eyes. “I suggest you leave, Elise, before I call Sheriff Barnes.”

  “You’d have me arrested?” Elise looked genuinely horrified.

  “If Summer wants to press charges, then yes. You assaulted her, without provocation.” He should know. So many of the teens he worked with had that very wording on their rap sheet. He had it on his.

  “I won’t press charges,” Summer said, much to Gabriel’s surprise.

  Elise’s mouth flattened as she made a little noise of satisfaction. “I’ll be going.”

  Neither he nor Summer bothered to say anything more as Elise marched out of Carolina Dreams. Summer merely waited until his ex has left and then moved to lock the door.

  When she turned to face him again, he winced at the bright red handprint. “Do you want some ice for that?”

  “No.” She pushed back her shoulders, tipping her nose in the air. “I want a timeframe from you, so I can know when to expect a ring and plan a wedding with a honeymoon. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve—I’ve,” her lips trembled, “had a m-man?”

  So they were back to this, once again. Damn Elise for this, and damn him for letting things escalate. “It’s best if you had dinner with my parents, first, so they can get to know you.”

  “They already know me by reputation, angel. Everyone does, no matter what you or Jemma Leigh say.” She gave him a brittle smile. “You two want me to think like y’all, like everything is rose-colored glasses and Fourth of July parades, but I’m not buying it. The mark on my face proves nothing has changed in this town.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  That evening, Gabriel walked the mostly deserted streets of Holland Springs. It was almost ten, and the only shops still open were the local drugstore and movie theater.

  Normally he’d be home now, but one of his client’s parents called him, worrying because their son hadn’t come home from school. It had taken him a good two hours, coordinating with local law enforcement officials, to track the teen down, but an anonymous tip had helped, and the fifteen year old was back where he belonged.

  Gabriel ran a hand through his hair. Small town or big city made no difference to a teenager looking for trouble. Though Holland Springs was not a big city by any stretch of the imagination, the town had grown over the past few years.

  New subdivisions and strip malls had been built, but the downtown, with good planning and financial backing from influential citizens, had remained vibrant, even when the local Wal-Mart had turned into a superstore. Many had proclaimed that expansion as a death knell for local businesses, but as with most things, the rush to judgment and end-of-the-world wailing were all for nothing.

  New businesses had cropped up, offering services and items that the Wal-Mart didn’t carry. Honestly, he thought it was pretty hypocritical for people to not want something that the majority, no matter their income, could afford. Where else were they supposed to shop for groceries and clothes?

  Yeah, if there was one thing he hated in this world, it was hypocrites. Which is probably why he was so determined to prove to Summer that he wasn’t one—at least, not anymore. He wanted to prove to her that, for the most part, people could be counted on to be kind and caring when push came to shove… not everyone, but most.

  Dear God, he prayed he was right.

  He exhaled and took a right onto Ivy Lane.

  A light shone in the second-story windows, and he frowned. It was doubtful that Summer had left the light on. She was too conscientious of stuff like that, and she had the uncanny ability to see in the dark like a cat.

  Just then, a black cat jumped up on the window, rubbing its
body back and forth on the glass. What in the world was Blackbeard doing there?

  Maybe Summer had some inventory to do. Maybe he could check on her, offer his help, or at least his company.

  Dashing around the back, he checked for her truck and found it, gleaming under a street lamp. With a smile, he strode to the back door, intent on knocking, when Blackbeard came running out, leaving the door ajar.

  The cat was used to roaming where he wanted, and most of the townspeople knew who he was and gave him little treats, so Gabriel didn’t bother to try to catch him. Instead, he slipped through the door, and made his way upstairs, calling Summer’s name.

  “Gabriel?” She appeared at the top of the stairs, eating a bowl of something while only wearing a t-shirt.

  He almost tripped up the stairs at the sight of her shapely legs. The t-shirt barely covered her, so it left little to the imagination. Immediately, he stopped his ogling and froze on the stairs, staring the wooden steps. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were, uh… What are you doing here so late?”

  “Eating a bowl of cereal while Blackbeard goes catting around.”

  He frowned at the wood grain. “Do you do this every night?”

  “No.”

  Relief flowed through him. Although, he still couldn’t figure out why she was dressed the way she was. It wasn’t his business, not completely, but it was strange.

  “Usually I’m entertaining gentleman callers while he roams the streets,” she said in that voice he’d grown to dread. The one that meant he needed to turn around and go back the way he came, if he knew what was good for him.

  Only he knew what was good for him—she was. She didn’t believe it, was all.

  “Sounds fun. Care to entertain this gentleman?” he asked, silently praying he was going about this the right way.

  The clink of the spoon dropping into the bowl made him grin. He risked taking another look at her. Summer’s mouth had dropped open, and then she caught him looking and put on a haughty face.

  “Doubtful,” she said, turning away and disappearing from the top.

  That wasn’t a no. He jogged the rest of the way up the stairs, catching her at the sink of the studio apartment. She rinsed out the bowl and set it down, then headed to the bathroom.

  Guess he’d have to entertain both of them.

  He glanced around the room. A lot had changed since he’d last seen it, but to be fair, he’d only been up here once and that was to help Rose unload some heavy boxes.

  The open floor plan had remained the same, but the décor had changed. Gone was all the mismatched furniture. In its place were comfortable-looking seating areas, a table for two, and freshly painted cabinets, and granite countertops in the kitchen, as well an antique dresser with a flat-screen television on top. Off to the side was a small room with a very large bed.

  Now, that was definitely new.

  “Where does Rose keep all the extra inventory?”

  “Alexander bought the building across the street, the one he’d originally had up for sale.”

  “Guess when you’re that loaded, buying a building from yourself makes sense,” he said to himself, moving to the long couch by the front windows. “I thought you were staying at Strawberry Grove.” He sat down, and waited for her to join him.

  She emerged from the bathroom a minute later, still wearing the same t-shirt but she had put on a pair of loose boxer shorts. “It’s better if I live here, until—”

  “You move in with me,” he said.

  Her eyes widened, just a little. She didn’t move from her spot by the television. “Yes.”

  “At first, I thought I’d come up here and see if you wanted any help or maybe just some company.”

  “I told you I have lots of company—except tonight,” she said, her gaze skittering away. She crossed her arms and took a deep breath.

  He took the opportunity to continue, and ignore her little jab. “But on second thought, I think you were right. We do need a timeframe. In fact, I was thinking of speeding things up.”

  “Do you?” she asked, still not looking at him.

  “Yes.” He patted the seat beside him. “Why don’t you come sit over here? I’d rather not yell our plans.”

  Stiffly, Summer marched to him, and he hid a smile. She sat on the opposite side of the sofa, so far away that she might as well be in the bedroom.

  “How much longer?” she asked.

  He scooted closer to her. “Maybe next week or two?”

  “I don’t want to wait another week.”

  “You at least need to meet my family first. Can you wait until after this weekend?”

  “Maybe.” She shoved a pillow between them.

  Undeterred, he scooted even closer, tossing the pillow on the floor.

  “It’s going to get dirty,” she cried, starting for it, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “The pillow is fine, and knowing you the way I do, we could eat off the floor and not get sick.”

  “Guess clean freak and town whore doesn’t mash very well, does it?” Summer said, but there was less of a bite to her words. She settled against the couch again, and he unhanded her.

  “For a town whore, you do a really crappy job at entertaining men.”

  Summer finally turned to look at him. “Excuse me?”

  “Honey, you’ve been gone more than you’ve actually lived here, and if you’d really been servicing all the men that you have been accused of sleeping with, or bragged about being with you, for that matter, then you’d still be on your back. It’s not mathematically possible.”

  For a moment, she gaped at him, and he knew in his heart she wanted to laugh, or punch him in the throat. Maybe at the same time. He’d welcome either if it meant she would smile, if it meant she could erase today.

  She did neither. “You were always good at math.”

  “You were, too.”

  “I was outstanding at math,” she said.

  “Chemistry, too,” he said. “I know you’ve always made me feel like I could spontaneously combust, even if it’s not possible without an accelerant.”

  “Maybe I’m the accelerant.” Her lashes lowered, and then she peered up at him, giving him a look so hot that he did indeed believe she was the accelerant. She lifted her chin, leaning into him. Their breath mingled. He felt her hand touch the outer edge of his, then one of her fingers caressed his, and he almost moaned.

  “Summer,” he said hoarsely.

  She brought his hand up to her mouth, kissing the center, and then nibbling her way across his knuckles. “In biology, I learned that a man has more nerve endings in his hand than a woman.” She sucked a finger into her mouth and nipped at the tip.

  Sensation flooded his body, straight from the tip of his finger to his dick. His cock swelled. He couldn’t help it, nor did he try to hide it.

  “Is that true?” she asked around that very lucky digit.

  “Feels like it.” He fought for control when she took another finger into her mouth, sucking it down to where it joined to the last knuckle. He could only imagine what that would feel like in other places. Another rush of lust jolted him. “Please.”

  “Are you begging me to show you what I do with all those gentleman callers?” she asked, and he was too turned on to take exception.

  But a flash of clarity assured him that no matter how he answered it would be wrong, so he pulled her to him, straight into his lap, and lifted her chin. Then he kissed the daylights out of her.

  But was either of them content with that? Not in the least.

  Summer straddled his lap, putting his hands on her butt. He cupped her there, groaning at the feel of her firm, plump flesh. Then she moved, rocked her hips in such a way that his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

  “What are you—?”

  She silenced him with a kiss, still rocking her hips against the length of him, and dug her fingers into his shoulder. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

  “As good as it did the las
t time you did this,” he said, somehow remembering them as teenagers, parked in his truck, with her riding his lap for all she was worth. Neither of them had taken off the last of their clothes, but they’d come pretty close. They’d come pretty close to giving everything to each other.

  “I’m much better now,” she said throatily. “All that practice, you know.”

  If she wanted to lie, then so could he. “Me, too. Can’t tell you how many women I’ve let ride me like this. They’ve always gone home happy, too,” he said, helping her move now. He gripped her ass, pulling down and pushing against her. Every glide made him hotter, flamed the lust and desire that he’d been holding in check for as long as he could remember.

  “I don’t have on a bra this time,” she gasped.

  He nipped her lip. “I noticed.”

  “You did not.” She nipped his in return. “You’re too much of a gentleman to look that close.”

  “I’m up close and personal now.”

  “If I promise to keep moving, would you want to touch me t—”

  His hands were up her shirt before she could finish her sentence, eyes closing in pure pleasure. She filled his hands, her nipples beading against his palms.

  “Oh God. That’s perfect. You’re perfect,” he whispered. She rocked harder, making his eyes open and his breath grow ragged. “We have to stop.”

  “But I thought you wanted to be entertained,” she said, lips brushing his ear. “I thought you wanted to make me as happy as all those women you let ride you like this.”

  Fabric slid against fabric, the thin material of her pajama bottoms and his khaki pants making it possible for him to feel everything. He flicked her nipple with the pad of his thumb in response, and she made a little noise.

  “Like that?”

  “Do it again, and I’ll tell you.”

  The couch began to squeak with their efforts, and her breasts started to bounce. He flicked her nipples with his thumbs, one at a time, while maintaining an iron grip on his control. No way would she make him come in his pants like some teenager… like she had when they were teenagers.