Summer's Surrender

by LM Spangler

  “You’re a gem,” she said. “Remem—”

  “I know. Remember to lock the door and activate the security system.” Jolene rolled her eyes for effect.

  Summer took the security of her business very serious. Cameras and monitors allowed her and Jolene to monitor the sales floor at all times. They had a code word to let the other know if the police had to be called. She’d never risk Jolene’s wellbeing, so she tried to cover all bases when it came to security.

  “Night, Jolene,” Ian said. “Sweet dreams.”

  Summer playfully smacked his arm. “Quit doing that to her. She’ll melt into a puddle if you keep it up. Come on.” She stopped short. “I warn you. My candle scents blend down there and can be strong, even with an exhaust fan.”

  “Is that what I smelled when I parked out back?”

  “Yep. What are you driving these days?”

  “1969 Chevy Camaro SS 396. Orange with a black racing stripe.”

  She whistled. “Nice.”

  “After you.” He motioned with his hand as he opened the door and followed her down. “Damn, that is strong. It doesn’t bother you?”

  “I don’t smell it after an hour or so. Grab that stool and have a seat.”

  He did as she asked while she fetched small bottles of scented oil and pink powdered dye to color the wax.

  “What’s on the stove?” he asked.

  “Melted wax and boiling water.” She measured a scoop of colorant. “I’m adding this to color the wax so it blends completely.” She added the scent and stirred the concoction. “I’m making some medium-sized pillar candles.”

  “Interesting.” He picked up a glass column and rubbed it in his hands.

  Summer turned to face him, wholly expecting him to be bored out of his mind. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  He looked around himself and then checked his clothes. “What?”

  “You’re always a surprise. Do me a favor. Put the large funnel in the microwave for a minute. I need to set up the pillars and wick-clip assemblies.”

  Dark brows furrowed. “Um…okay. Why the microwave?”

  “When I pour the wax in the pillars, it will immediately start solidifying if I don’t heat the funnel first.”

  Satisfied with her explanation, he did as she asked. “You know, that makes sense.”

  When the microwave dinged, she grabbed the funnel with a hand towel and went about pouring the candles, being careful to keep the wicks upright. After completing the pour, she placed the funnel in boiling water to loosen any wax coating that could’ve been left behind.

  “That is so cool.” Ian glanced around the room. “You handmade every one of these?”

  The sidewall held all of her stock, both candle and wax tarts—a large array of colors, scents, and shapes on display. She’d become so used to them that she only paid them mind when she had to restock the store.

  “Sure did. That’s part of the reason my shop is so popular. I do special orders.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “You’re genuinely interested in this?” she asked, her arms encompassing the room.

  He approached her, took her hands in his, and kissed each knuckle. “If it is part of your life, or should I say still part of your life, then yes, I am interested. This is your passion. Not unlike my guitars are to me.”

  “What are we doing, Ian?” she asked. “I mean, with us?”

  “Rekindling,” came his simple reply. The word was spoken with such reverence.

  “We’re moving fast. Maybe too fast.”

  “No. I’m moving too fast. Sorry.” He released her hands. “I’d like the opportunity to win you back.”

  Her heart thudded, then raced. Only he had that kind of power over her. She’d slept with other men, but they weren’t Ian. They satisfied the physical urge. But Ian made her blood run hot and make her feel loved, like she was the most important woman in his world. She’d never found anyone who could replace him. Perhaps she’d never really tried. She’d given a piece of herself to him. A piece that was never replaced.

  “Ian.” It was a whispered plea. When he’d kissed her knuckles earlier—her knuckles for Pete’s sake—little licks of pleasure had set her blood aflame, made her want, made her need, wearing away the wall she’d placed around her heart.

  And she was getting more comfortable with that idea.

  “If you’re finished making those candles, let’s get some grub.” He winked. “I need something to take my mind off of all the things I want to do and say to you.”

  She had no idea how to respond to that, so she followed him up the steps into the back room.

  They left through the rear door. Ian’s muscle car sat in the store’s small lot, looking aggressive and sexy. Summer whistled as she ran her fingertips over its curves and valleys, admiring its shape that screamed power and speed. Touches of the vehicle didn’t come stock.

  “How much money have you invested in this?” she asked.

  Ian stuck his hand in his pocket and jingled the keys. “Enough that I could have bought a nice European sports car.”

  Turning toward him to comment, her breath backed up in her lungs. The setting sun brought the auburn highlights out in his hair. Dark eyes blazed with flecks of mahogany. Want slammed into her, made her need him, his touch. She stepped to him, her eyes searching his. His pupils dilated, his nostrils flared.

  Grabbing his shirtfront, she pulled him to her. Their bodies came together, lips fused. She opened her mouth, and he plundered. Her body remembered the feel of his, rock hard and responsive, his flavor, pure and masculine.

  He crowded her, moving her into, and then onto, the hood of his Camaro and settled between her legs. His erection teased her core through her clothing, sending her into overdrive.

  God, how she wanted him. Her body sprinted ahead of her brain, almost too far out of reach. A horn honking somewhere in their vicinity permeated her brain, slamming on her body’s brakes. She broke the kiss, resting her head on his chest. His heart beat fast, his breaths quick and shallow.

  “Have to stop,” she said.

  “Here is definitely not the place to do this.”

  She grinned. “To be continued?”

  “Deal. Here.” He turned her hand palm up and dropped the keys onto it. “I...ah...can’t drive right now. It might be a tad uncomfortable.”

  Her brows knitted. “Why?”

  “Ah…” His face reddened. “You turned me on. Really, really turned me on.” He tilted his head downward.

  She looked in the direction he’d indicated, her gaze settling on his groin. She snapped her head upward, her eyes widened. “Oh! Damn.” She slid off the hood, pushing her hair out of her face. “I am so sorry. I didn’t think. I just acted.”

  “Am I complaining?”

  She stuttered. “N-n-no. I guess not.”

  He laughed. “I’ll be fine by the time we get to the diner. Just drive.”

  She could only nod.

  Minutes later, they were seated in the diner. They’d chosen the corner booth, as it was more intimate. “They make excellent chicken croquettes here.” Summer glanced up from her menu.

  “They sound good,” he agreed as he set his menu down. He waved the waitress over, and they placed their orders.

  A second waitress escorted a man into the dining room. His gaze rested on Ian for a moment, then two. “May I have a booth along the inside wall, please?” he asked, still staring at Ian.

  Summer took quick stock of the stranger. Working in retail, she had trained herself to ascertain as much about a person as she could before approaching them, which could give her clues about what they could be looking to purchase.

  He was close to her height, which put him at about five-foot-ten, and a little overweight, but not obese. His dark buzzcut hair didn’t hide the roundness of his face. Black-rimmed glasses encircled his eyes. The man was unremarkable, barring a faded scar on his forehead, so she ignored him and focused on Ian.

  “So.”
Summer tapped her fingers on the table. Nervous energy zinged through her, making her antsy. She had no idea what she was doing there and had asked herself why since they set up this little date. It was obvious she was still attracted to him physically. Her heart had yet to catch up. “Um...sorry again for earlier when…” She lowered her head.

  “Hey, chin up. It’s not a problem. I’m glad we react to each other the way we do. Tell you what, I’ll start the conversation. I…ah…have my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting tomorrow in the Lutheran church right off the square,” he stammered. “I wonder if that’ll ever get easier to say.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  “Did you enter AA on your own or was it court mandated?”

  “I signed myself up.” He frowned. “I hate being an alcoholic. It makes me feel so pitiful. To know I lost control, that I couldn’t stop. You know, I told myself that I’d never be like my dad. Now, look at me. In AA meetings.” His eyes met hers. “Pitiful, right?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” She took a calculated risk and laid her hand on his. “Ian, you said it yourself. You signed up. Nobody forced you. In my book, that makes you pretty damn strong.”

  The waitress brought out their food. Summer murmured thanks to the server.

  “You’ve made great strides already by leaving LA. I remember your love of music and your guitar. It was an extension of you. I believe it took more courage to leave the band behind than to leave Dover two years ago to join the band.”

  He’d left Dover...and her.

  The emotional knife sliced long and deep. Tears stung her eyes. Her first instinct was to look away. The second was to let him know what he did to her. She’d hidden the hurt, the pain, for so long. Trapped it inside, never leading on that she’d never stopped loving him. After not hearing from him for a month, she locked her emotions, her heart, behind an impenetrable wall. It had cracked a time or two, but she’d end the relationship and concrete it shut again. Over and over for the last two years. Her family, both in Dover and abroad, and her friends had become enough to emotionally support her.

  “No.” His voice rose, drawing the attention of a nearby couple and the man with the glasses, but he plowed on. “I was a coward. I missed you so much, but things happened so fast. The guys in the band were older and drank a bit. As soon as I played my first show I hit it full force. I’d drown my heart, because it would cry out for you otherwise. We’d end a show, and the first thing we would do was grab a fifth of whiskey. That was if I wasn’t already drunk by that point. Night after night. But they seemed to outgrow it. They drank less and less. I drank more and more. They watched me self-destruct. To their credit, they tried to help me. Tried to get me to stop drinking. They understood that in order for that to happen, I needed to leave.” His gaze met hers. His eyes shimmered, turning them to liquid obsidian, his emotions swirling in their depth. Something she hadn’t seen for two years. “They knew I needed to come back to you.”

  A whole chunk of the wall crumbled into nothingness. Fell away, allowing her emotions the seep out, to reach freedom. A tear slid down her cheek and fell onto their hands.

  “And here you are.” She sniffled delicately and turned her hand over, palm to palm with his.

  He stared in silence for one heartbeat, then two. “You undo me.”

  “We appear to undo each other,” she replied under her breath.

  And she had to figure out if she wanted to be completely undone by him...again.

  Chapter 3

  The following morning, Summer arrived at the York Airport in Thomasville ten minutes before Colt’s connecting flight was due to land. The early morning mist swirled as a breeze stirred, accenting the dreary start to the day. She chose to sit outside at a picnic table in the damp cold, which chased away others from joining her.

  She had to think, to figure out the puzzle that was Ian Jacobs. Many years ago, she thought she had that puzzle solved, only to have the pieces scattered about, unable to find the all-important corner piece. The puzzle refused to form, to return to what had been.

  The sleepless night she’d had did nothing to help. Her body still revved at full speed. She had been two minuscule steps away from having sex with Ian on the hood of his car.

  Once again, dark circles marred her under-eye areas. Her porcelain skin, already light in tone, looked washed out, making her freckles more prominent. And she had a lot of freckles.

  The breeze blew her denim jacket into a flutter and made her hair blow across her face, only to stick in her lip gloss. The whir of a double-prop airplane mixed with her sputtering attempts to unstick her hair from her mouth.

  After freeing her hair, she glanced up. A small, twin-prop commuter airplane was beginning its descent, flying lower and lower until the wheels chirped as they touched the tarmac. The plane taxied to a designated spot among a smattering of other planes.

  As the propellers wound down, the hatch opened. Colt disembarked, murmuring to another passenger before spotting Summer. He flashed a high-wattage, million-dollar smile.

  She rose and walked toward him, her arms open. As always, she was taken aback by the similarity between Colt and their father. Tall with broad shoulders that tapered to a trim waist. Colt, as well as Raine, had inherited her father’s shining, black hair whereas she and Autumn inherited their mom’s golden blonde colored locks.

  He stepped into Summer’s embrace. “Hey.”

  The wind roused, wrapping her in his fresh, masculine scent. Contentment settled over her. She and her brother had always been close. Closer, she imagined, than he was to Autumn or Raine.

  “I missed you,” she murmured against his shoulder.

  “Same here, kiddo.”

  Summer moved from his embrace and placed her hands on her hips. “As you may already know, I’m twenty-four. Not kiddo material anymore.”

  Colt ruffled her hair and laughed when she smacked his hand away. “You’re always going to be a kiddo to me. You know I’ll take care of you always. I’m like the big papa bear.” He studied her for a moment. “You didn’t sleep well last night. Ian?”

  Summer muttered curses under her breath. “Can’t Autumn keep her trap shut?”

  Colt thanked the baggage handler who delivered his luggage as well as the second passenger’s. He threw his garment bag over his shoulder and hefted up his two large suitcases. “Don’t blame her.”

  Summer’s eyes narrowed.

  He smirked. “Or blame her. The point is, you should have told me. I hear you had dinner with him last night.”

  Summer rolled her eyes. “Let’s get going. My truck is parked around the corner of the building.”

  “I can’t believe you’re still driving that...thing. You still want to restore a ’55?”

  “An F-150 is not a thing. It’s a versatile piece of machinery. And yes, I do want to restore one. If I ever get married, I want a truck as an engagement ring...so to speak.” She turned on her heel and walked toward her vehicle. “I know it’s not your Mercedes luxury car.”

  She could’ve afforded a Mercedes, thanks to the candle shop and a nice inheritance from her grampy when he passed away. Raine opened her coffee shop, Autumn opened her realty and interior design firm, and Summer had already inherited the shop when her nana retired. She was able to bank her part of her grampy’s inheritance. Colt had used his portion to fly to and from Africa as a freelance diamond broker when he wasn’t sent on a special trip by a potential client.

  The four siblings lived comfortably, as well as their nana. Her love had been candles, and her husband’s had been rare art. Though his had been greatly profitable, Nana merely enjoyed what she did. She adored the community she was a part of. Loved working with her hands.

  “You always were the sensible one. How often had Autumn or Raine borrowed your truck?”

  Summer snorted and unlocked the truck. “More times than I can count. But I don’t mind.”

  Colt stowed his garment bag and suitca
ses on the rear seat. “You never have,” he admitted as he slid into the passenger seat. “You always were the giver.”

  The weight of his stare bore down on her. She knew he wanted to talk about Ian. She’d rather hide, but there wasn’t anywhere to go when confined in the quad cab of a truck.

  “You gave your heart away and look where that got you.”

  He lobbed the comment and it found its mark. Right dead in the middle of the target. She put the truck in drive, slowing at the entrance. When it was safe to go, she pulled onto Route 30. Scenery flashed by. Places of business and homes had become blurs. Her brain told her that it was best to get the conversation done with, though her heart wanted to be left alone.

  “I did. And it ended badly. That much is true.”

  Colt laid a hand on her shoulder. “You still care about him.” It was a statement, not a reprimand about what she felt. And that set her at ease.

  “I do. Half of me says it’s foolish. The other half seems to feel like he’s finally home. My heart and body are battling in my head.”

  Colt ruffled her hair again. “That may have been a little too much information. But I get it. It sucks when that happens.”

  Summer understood what Colt was speaking of. From the moment he’d met Sage Whitley, part owner of Whitley Jewelers, he’d been smitten by her. He liked her—a lot—but with his job and all the traveling he did, he wouldn’t have time to court her. As good-looking as her brother was, he wasn’t the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am type. A trait she admired.

  She turned onto South Salem Church Road before laying her hand over his. “Aren’t we a pair?”

  “Two peas in a pod.”

  They talked while farms and rolling hills dominated the scenery. The road they traveled on had a good bit of traffic, but it was all heading toward Route 30 while they were heading toward Dover. Slowly, the farms faded away as they approached large developments and more houses. Within minutes, they were parked behind Raine’s shop.

  Each was greeted as they walked in. The normal crowd was in attendance, except for Ian. To her utter surprise, disappointed eked into her. Colt was on the receiving end of many hugs. They headed toward Nana at the corner table.