Summer with a Soldier (Soldier Series Romance Novellas Book 5)

by Makenna Jameison

  “This is gonna be a long game,” Chris muttered.

  “Tell me about it,” I groaned.

  Chapter 4

  “The eggs, milk, and dairy are all stored over here,” the assistant said, gesturing toward a large stainless steel restaurant-grade fridge. “And the fresh raspberries you purchased are on the counter, washed and ready for you.”

  “Great, thanks so much for your help,” I said, flashing the nervous looking woman a smile as I hastily glanced around the industrial kitchen. It was just like the bakery I worked in back home—all huge appliances and sleek stainless steel. There was plenty of workspace for creating the perfect wedding cake. I had all morning to bake and would be back in the kitchen this afternoon decorating it—cutting out the fondant flowers, whipping up the buttercream frosting. The rehearsal was on the beach tonight, followed by dinner at one of the resort’s top restaurants. And tomorrow morning, at 9:00 a.m. sharp, a bridesmaid’s brunch, followed by hair and makeup.

  My mind couldn’t concentrate on any of it though, drifting instead to dinner last night with Abby, Jordan, several of the other bridesmaids and groomsmen, and of course, Mike. Drinks at the bar followed by dinner followed by the whole lot of us walking along the beach in the moonlight. It wasn’t exactly a romantic stroll—we were all just friends after all, save for the bride and groom, but Mike had managed to stay at my side throughout most of the evening. Capped off with him walking me back to my room after midnight? Nothing had happened, of course, but just the memory of him at my side gave me shivers. Yes, I was more than a little bit distracted this morning.

  “Erin, dear?”

  I turned in surprise to see Abby’s mom wandering into the kitchen, dressed to the nines in white linen pants, wedge espadrilles, a silky blouse, and loads of expensive jewelry. Her blonde hair was perfectly coiffed, not a single strand out of place.

  “Hi, Mrs. Wyeth,” I said, suppressing a groan as she set her purse down. I loved Abby’s mom almost as much as my own, having known her practically my entire life. But the woman was a tad overbearing, and I hadn’t exactly planned on her watching over this morning’s baking session. I glanced down at my own outfit, wondering if she would think I was dressed unprofessionally for the kitchen. I’d been given free reign of the place for the morning, so I’d worn a comfy outfit of cutoff jeans, a dark grey tee shirt, and Converse sneakers. My hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and aside from a touch of blush and lip gloss that I’d hastily applied, my face was make-up free.

  “Good morning,” she said, breezing across the room to give me a kiss on each cheek. The scent of her expensive perfume surrounded me. She barely gave me another glance as she looked around the kitchen. “I just wanted to check in and see if you had everything you needed. And Abby said she’d selected raspberry filling?” she asked, looking back at me with a frown on her red lips. “Are you sure that’s the best choice?”

  “Everything’s great,” I said, planting a firm smile on my face. “And yes, raspberry was her choice, so I’m ready to go with that. All the ingredients have been purchased. I’ll be busy in here most of the day, but I’ll see you tonight at the rehearsal?”

  “Yes, well, I thought I might stick around for a while and oversee the baking process. Maybe expedite things with the kitchen, call in extra hands if needed—I’ve got Jacques on speed-dial you know….”

  She continued carrying on about everything that needed to be done while I grabbed my phone from the counter and quickly texted Abby:

  911. Your mom is in the kitchen. And she won’t leave!!!

  Abby’s reply was immediate:

  Be there in 5.

  Well, at least that would be taken care of. No Mrs. Wyeth hanging over my shoulder meant a drama-free kitchen and an easier morning for me. Like I didn’t have enough on my mind.

  “Knock! Knock!” a deep male voice came from the door a moment later.

  I looked up expecting Jordan and did a double take when I saw that it was Mike standing in the doorway. Freshly showered with hair still appearing damp and wearing Hawaiian print swim trunks and a plain white tee shirt that perfectly hugged all of his muscles, I stood there practically gawking.

  His eyes heated as they met mine, and he held my gaze a moment before he approached Abby’s mom.

  “Well, hello, Mike. Are you on your way to the beach with Jordan?”

  “Yes, I was, ma’am, but I just got a call from him about some sort of flower emergency.”

  “A flower emergency?!” she asked, her voice rising an octave. She reached into her designer handbag to pull out her cell phone. “Why didn’t Abby call me?”

  Mike glanced my way and winked. “I think she was hoping to sort it out. Jordan didn’t want her stressed out about it though and thought perhaps you could help?”

  “Well, I should certainly say so. With all the money that Mr. Wyeth and I are spending at this resort, I should hope that their florist would be on top of things. Excuse me, Erin,” she said, hurrying out of the kitchen. “I must see to this.”

  “Thanks,” I said, flashing a grin at Mike. “I was seriously not going to get anything done with her in here.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” he said with a chuckle. “Hopefully the ‘flower emergency’ will distract her for a while.”

  “It sounded critical,” I said, attempting a serious face.

  Mike raised his eyebrows and sauntered over to where I was standing. He was so close that I could smell his aftershave, and my heart started beating wildly. Now how was I supposed to concentrate with him here?

  “Is that the design? It looks amazing,” he said, gesturing to the four-tier cake I’d sketched out weeks ago. Four circular layers were stacked atop one another, from largest to smallest. Ornate lacing decorated the sides of each layer, and on top, I’d drawn colorful hibiscus flowers that I was going to make from fondant. It looked elegant but with a slight tropical touch—perfect for Abby’s upscale Hawaiian wedding.

  “Thanks,” I said modestly. “The real thing will be more impressive—trust me.”

  “Oh I’m sure,” he agreed, glancing at me. My heart did that pitter-patter thing again and I was reminded of a time a million years ago when Mike had been in town for a football game, and Abby and I had invited both Jordan and him over for dinner. We’d cooked spaghetti—our college specialty—and I’d been so distracted by Mike that I’d nearly spilled the pot of boiling water everywhere as I was draining the pasta. So much for time healing everything. A few years and handful of boyfriends later, and I was still just as flustered as ever by him.

  “So I know you’re busy this morning,” he continued, his deep voice reverberating off all the sleek metal in the kitchen, “but want to grab lunch later on? Maybe by the pool?”

  I glanced up into Mike’s dark eyes, and now it was my turn to raise my eyebrows? “Lunch? As in…a date?”

  “Well, I won’t say ‘no’ if you want to ask me out on a date,” he said with a grin. His dark eyes twinkled, and I was sure a blush was creeping over my face.

  “Mike,” I teasingly protested.

  “I had fun yesterday. I just thought we could spend a little time alone. Away from the whole wedding circus?”

  I laughed. “In case you didn’t notice, we’re right in the middle of the wedding circus.”

  “Well, whatever. Away from the bride and groom. We’ll see plenty of them tonight.”

  My phone beeped, and I glanced down. “Speaking of said bride….”

  All under control. Mom should stay out of your way.

  “Looks like they’ve distracted Abby’s mom for the morning. Anyway, yes, lunch sounds good,” I agreed. “It’ll have to be quick though—I’ve got a busy afternoon ahead of me.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll take you out on a proper date some other time.” He grinned, and I was sure I was only reddening more. Determined not to let him fluster me, I smiled back.

  “Can I meet you by the pool?”

  ***

  “Oh my God, it
smells to-die-for in here!” Abby exclaimed, glancing around at the four cakes cooling on wire racks in the kitchen. “Add in your heavenly buttercream frosting? I’m going to gain ten pounds just from eating a slice!”

  “You will not,” I argued, rolling my eyes. “And seriously, I already kicked your mom out of the kitchen this morning. Don’t make me kick you out, too.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Abby said. “Mike kicked her out. She came rushing over to my room moments later. And speaking of Mike, I noticed you two snuck off alone last night. So…did anything happen?”

  “What? No! He walked me back to my room.”

  “Sure,” she said, looking at me knowingly.

  “Nothing happened. Not that I would have been opposed to it….”

  “I knew it!” Abby shrieked.

  “Shhh!” I chastised.

  “Oh, no one’s here.”

  “Look, I’ve got a lot going on right now. Maybe if I end up staying here for the summer and Mike’s around, we’ll see what happens.”

  “Kill joy,” Abby teased.

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “Well, we are having lunch together. Actually, I need to be there in a few minutes. Then I have to get back and decorate my masterpiece this afternoon before bridezilla storms into the kitchen again.”

  Abby was so stunned that she didn’t say a word as I grabbed my purse. Let me say that is a definite first for Abby—the girl has never been speechless in her life. I winked as I headed toward the door.

  “I knew it!” she finally called out behind me. My laughter trailed all the way down the hall.

  Chapter 5

  I quickly glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror. I had flour covering my shorts, my hair was a mess, and I was wearing virtually no makeup. Granted, Mike had seen me this morning, but several hours in the kitchen had left me looking even more disheveled. I quickly brushed off my shorts and ran a comb through my hair. A minute later, I’d redone my ponytail—no point in attempting a new hairstyle now. A quick swipe of lip gloss and I was ready. I walked through the lobby and made my way towards the pool as I’d done yesterday morning. Only today I’d be meeting Mike, not running right into the guy.

  Mike was seated at a table near the pool when I approached. He’d changed from his swim trunks to khaki cargo shorts and a green tee that said “ARMY” in bold letters across the front. He had his arms crossed, resting on the table, and I noticed the way his biceps bulged beneath the soft cotton. He glanced up as I approached and pushed his sunglasses atop his head, flashing me a killer grin. I was in soooo much trouble if I ended up staying here for the summer. The man was downright gorgeous. His eyes ran over me, and I knew it wasn’t the eighty-degree weather that was warming me up all over.

  The other tables at the outdoor seating area were filling up, and I was glad I’d agreed to let him get a table. I hadn’t been sure exactly how long this morning’s baking session would take, but fortunately he’d been flexible about when we could meet.

  “Hi, Erin,” he said, standing up. “Let me get that for you.” He pulled out a chair for me, which seemed a little bit formal for the casual pool atmosphere, but was sweet nonetheless. “I take it Abby’s mom didn’t make another appearance this morning?” he asked as he pushed my chair back in. His forearm brushed against my skin, and I had to keep myself from shivering at his touch. Innocent as it had been, it had me wanting more of his skin against mine.

  “Nope,” I said, attempting to keep my tone light. “Just Abby herself a few minutes ago, and she was basically just dropping by to say hi. How’d you guys keep her mom busy?”

  “Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” he said, walking back around the table. “Jordan actually got our mom involved, too. Nothing like a little wedding talk to keep the mothers of the bride and groom occupied all morning.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I can imagine. And thank you—for earlier. I love Mrs. Wyeth like my own mom, but she can be a bit overbearing sometimes.”

  “Tell me about it,” he agreed with a laugh. “I’ve heard stories from Jordan for years.”

  The waitress came over, and I ordered an iced tea. The cocktail menu looked amazing, but it was only lunchtime, and I still had a couple hours of work left. Mike decided on the beer they had on tap. “Might as well enjoy my vacation—I start my new assignment on Monday.”

  “Monday? Wow, that’s soon. I didn’t think you were even going to be able to come to the wedding from what Abby and Jordan said.”

  “Yeah, it was a shitload of problems—excuse me,” he added, flinching slightly.

  “Trust me, I’ve heard worse,” I said with a laugh.

  “Let’s just say nothing went right during my last tour in Afghanistan. Not a damn thing.” His mood seemed to darken slightly, and I wondered what had happened. Mike was always a quiet, serious guy years ago, but he’d seemed so fun and carefree since he’d arrived in Hawaii. Like he’d lightened up as he’d gotten older. Obviously there was more to the story. But although I’d known Mike for years, we’d never been close enough to keep in touch aside from the time we spent together with Abby and Jordan. I’d lost track of him after college and had no idea about the things he’d been through or places he’d seen in the Army. It’s not like he was about to unload the past four years of his life on me right now anyway.

  “Here are your drinks,” the waitress said, instantly lightening the mood and saving me from having to change the subject. She placed my iced tea on a white cocktail napkin, and I hurriedly took a sip, realizing that I hadn’t had a thing to eat or drink since breakfast. Suddenly, I felt famished. “Have you selected what you’d like to order?”

  “I think we need a few minutes,” Mike said, flashing his dark eyes my way.

  “Yes, a few more minutes,” I agreed. I dropped my eyes to the menu, feeling Mike’s gaze linger on me as the waitress walked away. I finally glanced back up and saw those deep brown eyes softening as they met mine.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to put a damper on things,” Mike said, his voice rich and deep.

  “Hey, it’s fine. I mean, I really can’t imagine what it’s been like to be over there. I work in a bakery all day, you know?” I said with a shrug. “People are usually happy when they come to see me—well, except for the occasional bridezilla, but that’s another story. I mean it’s not like I’m off fighting a war or something.”

  Mike smiled, and I saw some of the tension leave his face. He took a long sip of his beer. “Bridezillas, huh? Not anyone we know, of course?”

  I smirked. “Of course not. But trust me, they’re out there.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure they are. All right, I better figure out what to order. I know you have to get back to work on that wedding cake, otherwise we’ll have our own bridezilla on our hands. And I don’t want my brother giving me shit for keeping you busy all afternoon.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got the decorating taken care of. It’s actually pretty simple since the scroll design is just icing. And Abby wants buttercream frosting, not fondant. I’ve only got a few fondant flowers to make—I’m planning to paint them to look like hibiscus flowers.”

  “You lost me at ‘scroll design,’ but I’m glad to hear it’s under control. If Abby’s happy, then Jordan’s happy, then I’m happy.”

  “Happy wife, happy life,” I teased.

  “Ain’t it the truth,” he said with a wink. “And happy groom, happy best man—or something like that. I still can’t believe my little brother’s getting married. But hey—I guess I should’ve known it was coming. He and Abby have been dating for years.”

  I looked at Mike questioningly. “So what, you’re not the marrying type?”

  “Nah, it’s not that. Constant deployments aren’t really conducive to starting a long-term relationship. Or even continuing one if you have a girlfriend. I mean, I’ll meet a girl while I’m home and then have to leave again. But I’ll be in Hawaii for the summer and hopefully stateside after that. Of course finding the right girl
always helps….”

  “Yes, there is that,” I agreed.

  Mike looked at me thoughtfully for a moment and then glanced back at his menu. “I’ve figured out my order. Do you know what you’d like?”

  “All set. The Thai chicken salad sounds amazing.”

  “Great, then let’s see if I can get our waitress’s attention. We’ll get you fed and back to work in no time.”

  “Slave driver,” I teased.

  “Hey, I’m just doing my part. But don’t worry, I’ll be sure to assist with eating the cake, too, when the time comes.”

  “Perfect. And hey, if I end up staying for the summer, you can be my official taste tester.”

  “Is that a thing?” he asked.

  “Of course. I mean I figure I’ll have to change up my game somewhat—maybe ‘tropify’ some of my creations from back home.”

  “Tropify? That definitely isn’t a thing.”

  “Trust me, you won’t be complaining when you get to taste delicious homemade pastries every day.”

  “Every day, hmmm?” I felt my face flushing as his eyes bored into mine. “Now we’re talking.”

  Chapter 6

  The string quartet began playing “Pachabel’s Cannon,” and I let Mike take my arm and escort me down the aisle. I’d selected a long, cream halter dress with pink hibiscus flowers splashed across the bottom for the rehearsal tonight. The slinky, formfitting dress perfectly hugged my curves—the front narrowing to a deep v as it skimmed across my breasts, the back hugging my bottom, so that I was aware of every step I took as the silky material glided over my skin. I’d dusted a little bronzer across my cheekbones, and my hair was pulled back in a messy “undone” bun. That was the look we were going for anyway, according to Abby—“undone.” I guess “polished” would be for the actual wedding tomorrow.