Taming Chloe Summers (Grover Beach Team #7)

by Anna Katmore

  The woman can’t even look up at me. She was definitely more fun when we were chasing Grey and Julie in the woods this morning.

  “Can I help you with something?”

  Now she lifts her head and studies me with mild annoyance. “Unless you’re going to play Romeo, it would help if you could let me finish this. Alone.”

  I pout dramatically. Needless to say, I’m not going to leave her alone. But I’m not going to act in a play either. “Why do you still need a Romeo? There were plenty of boys there this morning.”

  “None of them really qualify.” Her gaze drops to the chaos on the page. “Addison is the perfect Juliet, but I can’t team her up with any of those amateurs. They’re good enough to play the friar, or maybe trees, but not a passionate guy fighting to be with his girl.”

  Hm. Sounds like a real problem. Thankfully, it’s hers, not mine. And she can solve it later.

  Faster than she can react, I reach out and steal her notes. “Let’s put this away. You’ve been brooding over it long enough.” With a playful smile, I jump up and hide the notebook behind my back. “It’s time to have some fun.”

  “Give it back!” She scrambles to her feet and comes after me. “I want to start practicing with the kids tomorrow, so I need to finish this today.”

  Jogging slowly backward, I escape her. “You’ll get it if you promise to take a break now and play volleyball with Julie, the kids, and me.”

  Her brows furrow into a line. “I don’t want to play volleyball.”

  “Then what? Soccer?”

  She bites her lip. Heck, did I hit a soft spot? On a quick spin, I check to see if anyone’s down on the soccer field. A few boys are playing. It doesn’t look like a hard match; we could just join them.

  “All right, soccer it is.” Tossing the notebook on the ground, I grab her hand and pull her with me. She only resists for a second as she throws the pen on top of her notes, then she follows, making those lovely giggling sounds that I’ve been missing all day.

  “Hey, guys,” I shout to the boys. “Mind if we join in?”

  The kids stop their game and come closer. Brian wipes the sweat off his forehead then rakes a hand through his damp hair. “Sure, you can. But her, too?” A frown emphasizes the word her.

  “What’s the problem?” I demand.

  He gives me a typical teenage duh face. “She’s a girl.”

  “So what?” Chloe snaps. “Think I don’t know how to play soccer?”

  Instead of answering, he and the others suppress a snicker. I’m tempted to smack him upside the head, but it looks like my chivalrous service to teach him some respect isn’t needed. Chloe takes a belligerent step forward and crosses her arms in front of her chest, giving him a deadly smirk. “What’s your name, kid?”

  He lifts his chin. “Brian.”

  “Brian…” She repeats the name as if she’s testing it on her tongue. Then she waggles her brows once. “Okay, Brian. How about a little wager?”

  Oh hell, whatever she’s come up with now, I hope Brian’s wise enough to decline. Because I’ve seen him play, and I’ve seen her play. And, frankly, he doesn’t stand a chance.

  “What do you have in mind?” he says.

  Strike one. I scrunch my face.

  “We play a quick game. Just you and me. Winner is first to three.”

  “Sounds fair. What’s the bet?”

  Strike two. If he gets a single goal in before Chloe gets three, he’s better than I thought. I rub the back of my neck and mumble, “Careful, Bri. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

  Chloe cuts me a sharp look that shuts me right up. Then her focus returns to Brian. “If you win, I’ll clean your cabin every evening for the rest of the week.”

  “Whoa!” The guys erupt in approving ecstasy.

  “But if I win,” Chloe continues quickly, her voice dead serious, “I can play with you guys whenever I want. Aaand…you have to be my Romeo.”

  Everybody pulls in a shocked breath. Even I study Chloe in wonder. Yet Brian holds his ground. “Still on the Shakespeare love story, huh?”

  She nods.

  After some contemplating, he says with foolish self-assurance, “It’s a deal, lady.”

  It’s a damn mistake! But of course he can’t risk losing face in front of his friends by backing out now. And that was strike three.

  I don’t have to watch the game to know how it’s going to end. Clapping Brian on the shoulder, I wish him luck. Then I saunter off with a chuckle on my lips. The guy is so screwed.

  Chloe’s notebook lies alone in the grass where we left it. Picking it up, I settle down and take a closer look. She really put her heart into this—not because she’s doodled lots of them randomly across the page, but because there’s a detailed description of every kid who tried out for a role. Yet again, she has me deeply impressed. An idea comes to my mind—perhaps it’s about time for a little reward for so much effort and enthusiasm.

  While the first round of groaning on the soccer field announces Chloe’s first goal, I pull out my phone, hide it behind the notebook, and type a message for Cybil. It only takes two minutes for her reply to come in.

  I’LL SEE WHAT I CAN DO.

  A small smile creeps to my lips. Chloe will love this.

  A quarter of an hour later, she jogs across the shore, drops to the ground next to me, and grins proudly into my face.

  “You’re allowed to play soccer now?” I guess.

  “Mm-hm.”

  “And you have your Romeo?”

  Her beam gets even brighter. “Mm-hm.”

  “And will you tell me why you wanted Brian, of all guys, to take that role? You’ve never seen him perform before. He might be no better than the other potential trees.”

  The wide smile on her face has to be cramping her cheeks by now. It makes something inside me light up. “I don’t care,” she says. “Having him on the cast will make one particular girl very happy.”

  “Let me guess… Juliet?”

  Her eyes darken when she meets my gaze, a light blush on her face. She shrugs. “Unless I’m totally mistaken, Addison fancies that Romeo with the big mouth. And no matter how bad he is in the play, she’ll get a kiss out of it.”

  For an infinite moment, I simply stare into her excited brown eyes. Then I shake my head in bewilderment. “Sometimes you amaze me, tiger.”

  *

  It’s awe-inspiring what Chloe gets going during the rest of the week. The kids practice for hours every day, and the young actors learn their lines really fast. Even her matchmaking seems to bear fruit. Addison and Brain are eager to practice—especially the kissing scene. Down by the lake. After official rehearsals.

  While the theater group is still busy on Saturday afternoon, Julie, Greyson, and I prepare everything for a midsummer bonfire later. During my time at camp some years ago, this was the most anticipated event of the summer. I’m looking forward to it today as much as I did back then.

  Additionally, the long-expected update from Cybil Turner arrives when I’m stepping out of the shower after the sweat-driving task of stacking a person-tall pile of logs.

  EVERYTHING’S ARRANGED FOR THE LAST DAY OF CAMP.

  Perfect! Slipping on a white polo shirt and knee-length khaki shorts, I can’t wait to break the news to Chloe. Boy, will she be excited. A glance at my watch reveals it’s six forty-five. We told the kids we’d start the fire at eight. Long enough to head to the girls’ campsite and reveal the surprise.

  Julie walks out the door as I head up the steps to their cabin. Her black hair is braided down the sides of her face, and her red dress flares around her knees. She dresses up nicely, and even though Grey still insists it’s only yoga, I know he’ll certainly appreciate the view.

  I lift one hand in greeting. “Is Chloe in there? I need to talk to her.”

  “She’s in the bathroom doing her hair. You can wait inside, if you want.” She leaves the door open for me to enter, then hurries off with her ever-present sm
ile.

  It’s quiet in the cabin, the bathroom door ajar. “Knock, knock,” I call out in warning, in case she’s not dressed yet and intends to come out in a bath towel. Not that I would mind—but she might.

  “Who’s there?” she shouts back.

  “Justin.”

  A giggle sounds through the door. “Justin who?”

  Ah, the witch finds that funny, does she? Well, fuck it, whether she’s dressed or not. Gently nudging the bathroom door open with one finger, I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed. Too bad she’s not wrapped in a towel, though the real view is no less stunning. She’s wearing a short, flared skirt and a black, snugly fitting top. However, it’s the tanned strip of naked skin flashing between those two items that makes my mouth water. I smirk at her flushed reflection in the mirror and drawl a finishing line to her joke. “Just in your wildest dreams.”

  She puts away the flat iron, which she obviously just ran through her hair. It’s completely straight now. Then she spins around to me, biting her lip. “Right, because you know everything about my dreams?”

  Hm, I guess she needs a reminder of our night together on the swing. I heave a dramatically deep sigh, clutching my hands to my heart, and mock her with a dreamy roll of my eyes. “Ahh, Justin…”

  Exploding in bashful laughter, she smacks me on the arm. “Knock it off, you moron!”

  “I swear I would—if I only could stop dreaming about you,” I whine.

  Her cheeks a bright scarlet, she escapes through the bathroom door and lowers to the edge of her bed to push her bare feet into a pair of sexy black, cork-heeled wedges. When she rises again, her eyes are level with mine and they flash with teasing. “Did you just come here to wind me up, or is there an actual reason for your visit?”

  Winding her up is enough reason for me. I flash a wide grin. But then I remember the real news and swallow the new taunt on the tip of my tongue. “There is a reason. I have a surprise for you.”

  “You do?” Her eyes narrow, not completely trusting my motives yet.

  “Yep.” I tuck my hands into my pockets. “Seeing all the effort you’ve put in with the theater group, I arranged a little…something for you.”

  Intrigue sneaking into her gaze, she inhales deeply with excitement. “So? What is it?”

  “Cybil phoned all the parents, and when they come to pick up their spawn at the end of the summer, you’ll get a chance to perform before an audience.”

  Her chin drops. “You’re kidding me. They’re going to watch the play?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  I assumed she’d be out of her mind with delight, but I was definitely not prepared for her sudden leap forward into my arms. A deafening squeal erupts from her chest. Staggering back, I catch our balance, pressing her to me. “Easy there, tiger,” I laugh, putting her back on her feet.

  “I can’t believe you did this for the kids!” She grabs her hair with both fists. “They’ll totally freak out!”

  They probably will. Only, I didn’t do it for the kids…but for her. I’ve found myself watching her unusually often over the past few days—even more so than last week. And whenever there was a chance, I spent my spare time with her. Seeing that my plan worked and I made her this happy, a cozy, warm feeling settles in my stomach. I give her a shrug. “You can tell them tonight.”

  “I’m so going to! This is absolutely fantastic! It’s—it’s—” And suddenly all excitement drops from her face, her red cheeks turning ghostly pale, her hands sinking slowly to her sides. “It’s impossible.”

  With narrowed eyes, I scrutinize her. “Why is it impossible?”

  “They have to practice every day, all through the summer.”

  “So? I don’t think they mind. The kids love it. And they have you. Honestly, you’re a tremendous teacher.”

  Hesitantly, her gaze lifts to mine. It’s a shock to see her misty eyes. “Right,” she mumbles. Then she turns on her heel and walks to the door.

  When I stand rooted to the spot, trying to make sense of what the hell just happened, she slides a glance over her shoulder, asking softly, “Are you coming?”

  My feet start to move, though my mind is still in a stupor. What did I do wrong?

  Silently, we walk the path to the boys’ camp, where the woodpile is waiting to be lit. Antsy noises drift to us as we get closer, but I don’t feel the excitement anymore.

  “Listen,” I tell Chloe, taking her hand to spin her around to me. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot with the idea.” With my finger under her chin, I tilt her head up a little, meeting her gaze. “You don’t have to tell the kids tonight. Think about it over the weekend and make a decision next week. We can still cancel the show, if that’s what you want.”

  She expels a deep breath, blinking her long lashes at me. Moments later, a slow smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. Jesus. At last! I almost thought I wouldn’t be seeing it for the rest of the night. Then, without warning, she moves her hands behind my neck and plants the softest kiss on my cheek. “Thank you,” she whispers in my ear.

  I don’t know if it’s for the surprise or the option to back out, but I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of her lips on my cheekbone and her warm breath on my skin. I’d do anything for this girl.

  When she releases me and takes a step back, I don’t know how exactly it happens, but somehow I suddenly have her hand in mine. And I don’t intend to let go. Strolling on, I slide my fingers through hers. Chloe casts a slow glance down at our joined hands, then she looks up at me with wonder. I shrug. She smiles. And that settles it.

  As we walk into the boys’ campsite minutes later, I gently squeeze her hand before I let it slip away from mine and head over to the massive pile of logs that Grey sprinkles with a bottle of ethyl alcohol. He tosses me a matchbox, keeping another box for himself. His expectant gaze meets mine. “Ready?”

  Simultaneously, we light a match each and then throw them at the wood stack. Within the blink of an eye, it goes up in bright orange flames, competing with the golden sunset behind the trees. A round of applause travels through the crowd of kids. My gaze skates across the place, lingering on Chloe. Her big, brown eyes are alight with the awe of a child. Does she even know how beautiful she looks?

  Someone brought a radio, and loud music fills the area, officially starting the midsummer party. The rhythm is catchy, the tune familiar. The dance-lesson kids must be playing DJ tonight.

  I step up to Greyson, nodding at Julie and Chloe standing a little offside by a chest-height bistro table we found in a storage room when we set up everything for tonight. “Let’s get the girls a drink.” From the food table, we grab two bottles each and saunter over to the ladies. Placing a Coke in front of Chloe, I unscrew the top of my Fanta and take a swig.

  The way she watches me reminds me of a day in the woods with her four years ago. It’s one of my most precious memories of us.

  Her focus on me, she’s lying on her back in the grass, squinting, because the sun favors her face today. Hands laced over her stomach, her right index starts to tap on the back of the other hand.

  “You don’t believe me?” I tease her, waggling my brows once before I take a sip from my can of Fanta.

  “Not quite.” Chloe gives me a tight smile, then her tongue darts out and licks her bottom lip. “If you really do, then kiss me now.”

  Oh, she can definitely have that. I hold the can aside, brace myself with one arm next to her head, and lean down to touch my lips to hers. As she welcomes the kiss, I feed her a few drips of the Fanta—mouth to mouth.

  Rocking with giggles, she pushes at my chest and gets up on her knees to swallow the little bit she caught. The glare she sends me as she wipes a stray drop from her chin wouldn’t even scare a butterfly. “You did that on purpose!”

  I absolutely did, and her outraged look of surprise was hilarious that day. But I know she loved it anyway.

  “Want some?” I offer her now with a smirk.

  She snaps
out of wherever she was in her thoughts and stares at me with mild horror, then she quickly shakes her head. Her gulp makes me think that perhaps we were at the same place in our memories just then.

  I don’t get a chance to find out, because Addison and Kristina visit us at that moment and each grabs one of Chloe’s hands. “Come on, let’s dance!” they urge her, already dragging her away from us.

  “Wait! I can’t,” she complains, but her giggles tell me she’d actually love to. “Not with these shoes…”

  Oh yeah, I can see how they raise a problem as she wobbles on the heels. But she quickly finds a solution. Bending one leg first and then the other, she slides the wedges off her feet, clumsily balancing on one foot at a time. “Justin,” she calls out as she pivots to me, a bright beam on her face. The next instant, she hurls the first shoe at me. In a rush of reflex, I catch it with one hand, and then the other when it follows a second later. I put them under the table.

  Barefoot and happy, she slides into the circle of Zumba girls around the bonfire, joining in the choreography. Her skirt fans out, her movements perfectly in sync with the others, and a hearty laugh rumbles from her chest. She looks gorgeous when she dances.

  As if reeled in by a fishing rod, I move forward until I’m standing right behind her. From spying on her every single morning for the past two weeks, the steps to this song are nothing new to me. And without thinking twice, I fall into pace with her.

  Salsa with the right leg, salsa with the left leg, five teapot steps to the right, and then both hands in the air… Ohh! Ohh!

  When all the girls cheer at my dancing like groupies at a Bruno Mars concert, Chloe whirls around, her startled gaze nailing me straight in the face. “Wha—”

  There’s no time for questions, the song isn’t over yet. Ignoring her perplexed expression, I take her hand and twirl her back into her former position, staying behind her. With my hands on her hips now, we repeat the same choreo to the opposite side, making the girls scream their ooohs of excitement.

  The next sequence of the song is an instrumental solo that requires twists, as far as I remember. Chloe spins right into my arms, and this time I hold her there. Her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly parted, we stand nose to nose, neither of us moving for a fraction of a second. Then the song and everything around us fades to oblivion.