by Susan Stoker
When they reached the door to his cabin, Summer stopped, took a deep breath, and turned around to face the big man who was still holding her hand.
Mozart watched as the woman in front of him took a deep breath before she turned around. He grinned. Now that he could see her face, he knew exactly who she was. She was the maid for the cabins. He waited for her to speak.
Summer tugged at her hand, but the man wouldn’t let it go. She looked up at him a bit nervously and watched a crooked smile take over his face, and all the words in her brain fizzled away.
“Do you think I could know the name of the woman to whom I gave three orgasms and apparently pleasured all night long?
Summer nearly choked. God, she was embarrassed. “I’m so sorry about that back there,” she quickly said. “Those women were such bitches; I just wanted them to be jealous as hell and to realize what they were missing. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or anything. I really am sorry.” She trailed off when she saw he was still smiling.
“Your name?” Mozart demanded in a low voice.
“What?”
“What is your name?” he repeated easily, seemingly not upset in the least.
“Summer,” she told him without thinking. Shit, maybe she shouldn’t be blurting things out without thinking first. It had always gotten her into embarrassing situations in the past, seemed like she hadn’t learned her lesson after all these years.
“Summer,” Mozart told her, “I’m not embarrassed. I think that was one of the nicest things anyone has done for me in a long time. Don’t be sorry. Shit, don’t be sorry. I’ll never forget the looks on their faces when you said jet. I just wish I had it all on film to show my buddies.”
Summer chuckled a little, still feeling embarrassed and very aware he still held her hand. It felt awkward, but at the same time it didn’t. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m not usually like that. Anyway, well, I’ll be going…” she trailed off and attempted to once more remove her hand from his, but he still wasn’t letting go. She looked up at the man questioningly again.
“Come to dinner with me.” It wasn’t exactly a question; it came out more like a statement.
“What?” Summer couldn’t have heard him right. She knew she sounded silly asking him to repeat everything, but she was confused.
“Come to dinner with me, Summer,” the man said again.
“But you don’t even know me,” Summer said in bewilderment.
Mozart laughed a little. “But Summer, I gave you three orgasms before dinner.”
Summer blushed and looked down. “Jesus, I’m never going to live that down am I?”
Seeing Summer’s embarrassment, Mozart got serious. He put his finger under her chin and lifted it so she was looking at him, noticing she didn’t fight him. “You’re too easy to tease, but please, let me take you to dinner to thank you. You didn’t have to step in there for me. It honestly doesn’t bother me what people say about me, but you didn’t know that. You went out on a limb for me. Please let me treat you to dinner in return.”
Summer looked at the man again. He was serious, she could tell. She was hungry. It didn’t matter where they went, she hadn’t had a good meal in forever. She tried one more time to dissuade him.
“But I don’t even know your name.”
He finally let go of her hand, only to immediately hold it out to her again. “I’m Mozart, nice to meet you, Summer.”
“Mozart? Can you play piano?”
Mozart laughed and continued to stand there with his hand out. He’d stand there all night if he had to. He’d forgotten how fun it was to pursue a woman. He hadn’t had to do it very often and it made him feel ten feet tall. If Summer knew how cute she looked and how her actions only made him more determined, he knew she’d be mortified. “Go out to dinner with me and I’ll tell you how I got my nickname.”
Summer smiled and shook her head in exasperation. He was crazy, but she was finding she liked his brand of crazy. Finally, she put her hand in his and shook it. “I think that’s blackmail, but you have a deal.”
Apparently, they were going to dinner.
* * *
Mozart ended up taking Summer to local steak place. It wasn’t fancy, but the food was good. He’d already been there a few times and had enjoyed everything he’d eaten. Maybe even more important, the restaurant was quiet and Mozart felt like he could get to know Summer a bit better. The hostess had sat them at a booth in the back and asked what they wanted to drink when they’d arrived.
“Get whatever you want,” Mozart told her when he saw her hesitate.
“I guess I’ll just take a water.” At Mozart’s raised eyebrows, Summer hurried to defend her selection. “It’s fine. I’m hungry and don’t want to fill up on soda or alcohol.”
Mozart nodded and ordered a beer. After the waitress had left to collect their drinks, he turned back toward Summer and just watched her as she read over the menu.
“You aren’t going to even look at the menu?” she asked Mozart nervously.
“Nah, I’ve been here a couple of times and know what I want.”
The way he said he knew what he wanted made Summer nervous for some reason, but she didn’t call him on it. Maybe it was how he looked into her eyes as he’d said it instead of looking at the menu itself. Summer looked down at the menu as if it held the answer to world peace and tried to ignore Mozart’s presence and steely gaze.
When the waitress came back with their drinks, Mozart ordered an appetizer of cactus dip with chips and a Rib Eye steak with potatoes and spinach. Summer asked for a sirloin, medium rare, with a baked potato and fire-roasted green beans.
After the waitress left, Mozart leaned his elbows on the table and asked, “So, how long have you worked at the motel?” As a get-to-know-you question, it was pretty tame, but Summer was embarrassed anyway. She’d grown very adept at handing out vague answers that sounded like she answered the question, but never really gave much away.
“I’ve been there for a while now. It’s okay, but not something I want to do the rest of my life. You’ve been there a while, what are you doing up here in Big Bear?”
“Oh you know, just enjoying some time off and hiking in the woods.”
Summer nodded, she’d figured that was what he was there doing. Something didn’t ring true about his answer, but it wasn’t as if she could call him on it when she was trying to avoid answering any deep questions about herself either.
“Have you seen any animals when you’ve been out there?”
“Yeah, quite a few deer, but no bears.”
Summer laughed. “I guess that’s good then.”
Mozart just nodded and watched the woman across from him. She never stayed still. She fiddled with her water glass, then put her napkin in her lap. Mozart could see her leg moving up and down with nervous energy. On the outside, Summer seemed composed and calm, but he could tell she was nervous just being with him. He liked it. Not that she was nervous, but that she cared enough to be nervous.
“Tell me something about yourself, Summer.”
“Oh, um…” she shrugged, “there’s not much to tell really.”
“Bullshit. Come on, give me something here.” Mozart really wanted to know this woman. Not the superficial crap, but something about her he wouldn’t find out unless he pushed.
“My middle name is James.” At his look of incredulity, Summer put her head in her hand in embarrassment.
“James?” When she didn’t immediately explain, Mozart leaned across the table and smoothed a piece of hair behind her ear. “Summer James. I like it.”
Summer raised her head and looked at the gorgeous man across from her. She honestly had no idea what had possessed her to come to his defense back at the motel. He was obviously a man who could take care of himself. He didn’t need her jumping in trying to make those women jealous. Mozart was easily the buffest man she’d ever seen. He probably could’ve flattened them with only a look. But she just had to be a hero. She sighed,
knowing since she’d blurted out her embarrassing middle name she’d have to explain.
“My parents wanted a boy. They convinced themselves I was a boy. They didn’t want the doctor to tell them the gender of their baby, convinced they already knew because of old wives tales or something. So they had my name all picked out already. James. It was a disappointment when they found out I was actually a girl. They didn’t have time to really think of a good name, so they chose Summer since it was July when I was born. They kept James because they’d become so attached to it.”
“Summer is a good name.”
Summer whipped her eyes up to Mozart’s and looked at him in confusion. That wasn’t what she expected him to say.
Mozart expounded on his statement. “You said they didn’t have time to think of a good name. I disagree. Summer is a great name. It fits you. Your hair is blonde, you have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, the blue of a beautiful summer day. Your skin is tan…I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman whose name fits her better than Summer fits you.”
Oh. My. God. Summer thought she was going to melt into a puddle right there in the booth. Mozart was looking at her in that intense way he had again. Summer felt goose bumps break down her arms. She hadn’t been fishing for compliments, but he’d given her a doozy of one. “Uh, thanks,” was all she could squeak out. Summer was saved from having to say anything else because the waiter arrived with their food.
Summer ate as slowly as she could, but her steak was so good. It’d been forever since she’d eaten such a good meal. It was if she could actually feel her body soaking in the nutrients from the meal as she ate.
Mozart watched Summer eat. It was obvious she was enjoying the food, but as he paid more attention, she enjoyed it a little too much. They weren’t talking a whole lot, which was fine, but Mozart could tell Summer was purposely trying to slow herself down, to not eat too fast. She’d take a bite to eat, then put her fork down against her plate, and rest her hands in her lap as she chewed. It was methodical and purposeful. Mozart pressed his lips together in consternation. He’d been there a time or two in his life. Almost the entire team had been captured during a mission and they’d been half starved. For almost a month after they’d been rescued he’d had to force himself not to gorge himself every time he’d sat down to eat.
His body had told him to eat as fast as he could, but his mind fought and tried to tell him there was plenty of food and he didn’t have to hoard it or scarf it down. Mozart hated seeing that same dilemma in Summer’s actions. He knew he wouldn’t say anything about it though, it would embarrass her, and the last thing he wanted was for her to be embarrassed.
“So, what’s your last name Summer James?” Mozart wanted to soak up every scrap of information he could about this fascinating woman.
“Pack.”
“Summer James Pack. I like it.”
Summer merely shrugged. It wasn’t as if he had to approve of her name, although she supposed she was glad he didn’t hate it. “So, you told me you’d tell me the story about your nickname if I came to dinner with you.”
Mozart put his fork down and pushed his plate back. He leaned toward Summer and put his arms on the table. He was pleased to note she continued to eat as he started his explanation. “I’m a Navy SEAL,” he began, satisfied when she merely nodded instead of fawning all over him as many women did after hearing what he did for a living. “It’s commonplace for men in the military to be given a nickname. Typically the names are tongue-in-cheek jokes or modifications of a person’s name, or even an out-and-out reminder of some dumb-ass thing the person did.”
“Which category does Mozart fit into?” Summer asked with a smile on her face.
Laughing Mozart said, “Unfortunately, the last one.” He continued with his story, loving the smile that crept across Summer’s face. “One night, after we’d made it through Boot Camp, me and a bunch of the other seamen went out and got completely hammered. We’d been working our butts off for a few weeks and we were all young kids. We ended up at a karaoke bar.” Mozart paused, enjoying the hell out of the wide smile on Summer’s face. When she smiled a real smile, it lit up her whole face.
“Yeah, we thought we were all that and a bag of chips, and apparently I refused to leave the stage after singing three songs. The patrons were noticeably pissed and one guy yelled, ‘Hey Mozart, get off the stage and let someone else slaughter a song for a while.’ That was it. That’s all it took. The name stuck. So my one foray into the land of music ended up marking me for life.”
“I’m sure there’s a karaoke bar somewhere in Big Bear. We could always find it after dinner.”
“Oh, hell no, Sunshine. I’m pretty sure if you heard me sing, your ears would bleed.”
Summer put her fork down and sighed. She could probably eat more, but she knew she’d regret it if she stuffed anything else down. Mozart was funny. She’d never have guessed he had such a good sense of humor when she’d first seen him. It just reminded her that everyone had more depth than could be seen on the surface. “So what’s your real name?”
“I’ll tell you only if you swear you won’t use it.”
Summer looked taken aback. “What? Why?”
Mozart smiled to take the sting out of his words. He was serious, but he didn’t want her to feel as if he was mad or anything. “I have five friends on my SEAL team. We all have nicknames. Three of them have women. For the most part, the girls refuse to use our nicknames. Wolf, Abe, and Cookie don’t care, but it’s been so long since I’ve been called anything other than Mozart, it makes me feel as if their women are talking to someone else when they insist on calling me by my given name.”
Summer decided to tease him. She didn’t really care what she called him, but wanted to give him crap. “What is it? Fred? Winston? Oh no, I have it. Sherman?”
Mozart reached across the table and grabbed her hand and playfully pretended to bend her index finger back in retribution. Summer giggled and tried to pry her hand out of Mozart’s grip with no luck.
“No, smartass. It’s Sam. Sam Reed.”
“Sam.” Summer loved the feel of her hand wrapped up in his. He made her feel…safe. “It’s so normal.”
Mozart let go of her hand reluctantly and sat back and crossed his arms across his chest.
“Normal?”
“Yeah. You don’t look like a ‘Sam’ to me. You look like you’d have some bad ass name.”
“Like what?” Mozart was enjoying the hell out of the conversation.
“Um…maybe Jameson…or Chase or Blake.” Getting into it, Summer continued, “I know, what about Tucker or Trace?”
“Jesus, Summer. Seriously? I look like a Jameson?” Mozart said through his laughter.
“Okay, maybe not, but I’m not sure I can call you Sam either, it’s just so…plain.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing you don’t have to call me Sam. You promised.”
“Actually, I didn’t. You assumed.” When Mozart opened his mouth to rebut her, Summer reassured him. “Kidding! I’ll call you Mozart. No worries.”
“Thanks, Sunshine, I appreciate it.”
Summer smiled at the big man sitting across from her. Sunshine. Her ex had never called her by any nicknames. He’d always just called her Summer. She didn’t realize how much she liked hearing a pet name until Mozart had said it to her…twice.
“Come on, you about ready to go?” Mozart asked, putting his used napkin on the table.
“Yeah, thank you so much for dinner. I appreciate it, even though it wasn’t necessary.”
“Of course it was. You stood up for me. It doesn’t happen much. Usually people go out of their way to steer around me. You waded right in and put yourself between me and those women. Although, it must be said, you shouldn’t make a habit of it. You have no idea what someone will do. They could’ve turned against you, or I could’ve been a dick about it and dragged you in my room to make you put your money where your mouth was.”
“I can rea
d people pretty well; I didn’t think that would happen.”
“Want to take the leftover rolls back?” Mozart changed the subject, knowing she believed every word she said about him and that she’d probably do the same thing over again. He didn’t think she’d ask to take the extra food home, but somehow he knew she both needed and wanted them.
“Sure, if you don’t mind.” Summer tried to shrug nonchalantly, knowing the bread would be her lunch, and probably dinner, the next day.
When the waiter put the check on the table, Summer made an effort to reach for it so she could pay for her own dinner, not that she really had the money, but she felt like she should at least let Mozart know she wasn’t expecting him to pay for her food.
“Seriously?” Mozart asked with a raised eyebrow, reaching out and snagging the bill before Summer could open the folder to look at it.
Summer just looked at Mozart and said, “Yeah, You don’t know me, there’s no reason for you to pay for my meal.”
Mozart pulled out his credit card and put it in the folder and laid it on the end of the table. “I asked you to dinner, I’ll pay. Believe me, I appreciate you even offering. I can’t remember a time when a woman even made the suggestion, but it still irritates me that you’d think for a second I’d let you pay.”
Summer just looked at Mozart for a second, then, not knowing what else to say, she whispered, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You should always expect a man to pay when he takes you out, Sunshine.”
“That’s not the way of the world today, Mozart.”
“Well, it’s the way of my world.”
Summer could believe it. Mozart was intense in a “take charge, Alpha man” kind of way. She wanted to hate it, but couldn’t. She’d never had anyone treat her that way before and it was almost scary how much she enjoyed it. Summer didn’t say anything when the waiter returned with the credit card slip and Mozart signed it. He stood up and held out his hand for her as she scooted out of the booth.
