Just One Summer

by Lynn Stevens

  “I took a cab.” He moved his hands in front of my face. I swatted them away.

  “Why didn’t you just take a cab to the train depot?”

  “Isn’t that obvious?” I shook my head. “Carly, I don’t know how to get back to my cabin from the train depot. Duh.”

  I wanted to laugh at the use of duh, but his logic baffled me. Wouldn’t it have been just as easy if I met him at the train depot? “Wait, don’t you have GPS?”

  “Don’t use it.” He leaned in closer and whispered, “You’d be surprised how many people can tack you using your GPS.”

  “Paranoid much?”

  “Call it cautious.” His eyes dropped to my barely covered chest for a moment. “Oh, and get dressed. I don’t really think you should go out like that.”

  My response was to slam the door in his face. Unfortunately, I woke up half of the house in the process. Luke ran out of his room wielding a miniature baseball bat with Dad fast on his heels. Mom and Miranda huddled together behind them.

  “Carly! What the hell?” Dad yelled, fear making his voice quiver. “We heard a loud bang and the windows rattling.”

  “That,” I emphasized, “was Gracin Ford pissing me off before I had my coffee.”

  I stalked past them and headed toward my room. My phone buzzed in my hand.

  Well?

  I WILL BE THERE IN A MINUTE!!!!!! I responded.

  K.

  This guy was going to send me to an early grave. I changed quickly, glad my family left me alone. For all I knew, Dad was chewing Gracin a new one. Instead, when I came out of my room, fully clothed and still pissed, Gracin sat at the counter with a mug of coffee. Dad beamed beside him. I took Gracin’s mug and slammed the too hot liquid. The bitter brew slid down my throat like lava. Of course, he hadn’t sweetened it.

  “Better?” Gracin arched his eyebrow.

  “Not even close. Let’s go.” I put the mug in the sink and grabbed my keys.

  Gracin said goodbye to my father and followed me to the garage. I hit the button to open the garage door, revealing the three vehicles parked inside. He headed for Dad’s Mercedes, and I walked toward the scooter. While I would’ve preferred the SUV, the scooter was all I had left in terms of transportation. Besides, Dad would never let me touch the Mercedes ever again. He’d made that perfectly clear after I put a dent in it. Okay, it was more like a crater in the back passenger panel and the removal of the rear bumper and it technically wasn’t my fault, but that wasn’t the point. The Mercedes was off-limits. It was the scooter or bust.

  “I’m not getting on that thing.” Gracin pointed as I climbed on and started the engine. “It can’t possibly be safe.”

  I tossed him the extra helmet, which was a glorified bicycle helmet, but it would do. The train depot wasn’t too far. Gracin caught it with both hands and held it in front of him like it was a bomb.

  “I’m not kidding, Carly. There is no way I’m riding on that thing.”

  Smiling, I pushed forward and the kickstand popped up. Gracin watched me pull slowly out into the driveway. I revved the tiny one-hundred-fifty cc engine, not bothering to glance over my shoulder. If Gracin wanted his truck, he had two choices: call another cab and go solo or get on my scooter. I heard the huff before I felt his weight behind me.

  “If I die, I’m haunting you,” Gracin said just before I gunned it.

  The scooter took off like a rocket when I opened the throttle. It couldn’t quite hit sixty miles per hour, but it had a surge of power if you gassed it. Gracin must have been surprised, because his arms wrapped around my waist like a straitjacket. His hands clenching the fabric of my shirt and the heat radiating off his chest as it pressed into my back almost caused me to careen off the road and into the neighbor’s yard.

  The drive to the train depot usually took all of ten minutes, but the way Gracin kept tightening his grip during the corners prompted me to take a longer route.

  I pulled into the lot and parked by the entrance to the offices. Dad and I had come here a few times over the last year and a half to sign off on equipment he’d had shipped in from New York. It had been cheaper to ship the theater’s new marquee by train than by truck.

  Gracin climbed off the scooter and gave me the helmet with shaky hands. “Never again.”

  I snorted back the laugh.

  “Seriously, Carly. No wonder you wrecked your dad’s car.” He spun on his heel and sauntered to the office.

  How much does he really know? I wondered as I waited outside. There wasn’t any reason for me to go in, so I sat on my scooter with his helmet pressed to my chest. He seemed to know all my secrets that weren’t really secrets. More like information I didn’t share with most people. What really bothered me was the way he stared at me, like he could look right through me. No matter what bullshit I tossed at him, he knew there was more to me than what I let him see. I hadn’t lied to him once, but everybody has bits of their lives they keep to themselves. Mine just happened to be less like bits, and more like entire pieces.

  Gracin came out with a slip of paper after a few minutes. He disappeared around a crate at the other end of the lot and drove out in a black Nissan Titan. The diesel engine idled as the truck rolled toward me. After parking it, Gracin jumped out of the driver’s side with a huge grin on his face. Without saying a word, he reached out and helped me off the scooter. Not that I resisted. His happiness was normally an apparition, but it was so palpable at the moment that I didn’t want to be the one to take it away from him. He pushed the scooter toward the back of the truck and dropped the tailgate.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked, putting my hands over his on handles. His fingers tightened beneath mine. “You can follow me back.”

  “Don’t be absurd. We’re going the same direction.”

  “Need some help?” a guy asked. He strolled out of the office, wiping his hands on a dirty towel. The guy was huge, nearly six-five with arms the size of Gracin’s chest. “I doubt you and your girl can lift it alone.”

  Gracin pulled his hands from underneath mine. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

  My face burned like embers in a dying fire, just under the surface and barely visible. Turned out the guy didn’t even need Gracin’s help. He lifted the scooter by himself and leapt into the bed, pushing the scooter all the way to the cab.

  I just stood there, staring at both men. It was a sight to behold. They struck up a brief conversation about trucks as if they’d known each other all their lives. How did men do that? And where did prissy Gracin Ford learn how?

  “You and your girl have a nice day,” the older man said as he shook Gracin’s hand again. He strolled back toward the office, tossing the dirty towel over his shoulder.

  Gracin turned away from him and draped his arm around my shoulders. “Come on, my girl. Let’s go.” He opened the passenger door and helped me into the cab.

  This entire episode had me dumbstruck. Well, that and I actually liked it when the guy called me Gracin’s girl. Oh, shit. This wasn’t good. No, not at all. I couldn’t get involved with Gracin Ford. He was arrogant, self-centered, and not even slightly interested in me. Not in the least. No, no, no.

  Then again, he did want me to move into the hotel to be closer to him. But was that professional or personal? It was so hard to tell.

  Gracin jumped into the cab, bouncing on the leather like a toddler with a new car seat. I glanced around the light gray interior. The fully loaded truck probably cost more than two years of college. Leather seats with butt warmers, a high tech albeit disabled GPS, Bluetooth, and when Gracin turned up the radio, one of the best sound systems I’d ever heard.

  What surprised me more than anything was the voice of Hank Williams crooning from the speakers. I reached over and turned the music down.

  “Seriously?” I pointed to the satellite radio station labeled “Classic Country.”

  “Who doesn’t like Hank?” Gracin grinned as he reached for the dial.

  I smacked his hand away bef
ore he could turn it up. An idea sprung into my head. It was five-thirty and the sun was about to break the horizon. When was the last time Gracin had sat and watched the sun?

  “Let me drive,” I said, lifting my leg over the console.

  It was Gracin’s turn to smack my leg away. “Not a chance in hell, Carly. I want to live.”

  There wasn’t enough time to pout, but I still crossed my arms to sulk. “Fine, but we need to hurry.”

  “Where?”

  “Just drive and I’ll tell you as we go.”

  Gracin put the truck in gear and followed my instructions. Ten minutes later, we parked on top of a bluff overlooking the lake. Technically, the sun was already up, but it hadn’t hit the top of the mountains yet. The pinks and oranges crossed over the sky, entangling with the lightening blue of daylight and the darkness of night. Sunsets were pretty, but nothing beat a sunrise over the Ozarks. They were so much more important. A sunset meant another day was over, a sunrise brought on a new day and new possibilities. Plus, almost everyone saw the sunset. Very few took the time to notice a sunrise.

  Neither one of us spoke, but we didn’t need to. Gracin didn’t start the truck right away. I waited patiently for several minutes before enabling the GPS and programming mine and the resort’s addresses.

  After a few more minutes, he started the engine and followed the GPS’s directions back to my house. He pulled into the driveway and jumped out. I waited a beat before climbing down. Gracin had dropped the tailgate and pushed the scooter toward the edge. Together we lifted it down with ease and rolled it out of his way.

  We stood facing each other, still not saying a word. In that moment, I wanted to slide my hand around the back of his neck and pull him toward me. I wanted it so much I could almost feel his lips against mine. But wants were what usually got me into trouble, so I kept myself in check.

  “Carly,” Gracin said. I waited for more, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Yeah?”

  He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as if he needed the added strength. After a long exhale, he responded, “Thank you.”

  Before a word popped from my mouth, he was back in his truck. He glanced at me through the windshield and waved.

  I lifted my hand and waved back, feeling like something significant had just happened between us.

  What, I had no idea.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ten straight days of shows. All sold out. All energetic, nonstop craziness. Why Gracin agreed to do so many back-to-back shows was beyond me. Beside the money. Money was always a factor. Fortunately, we finally had Mondays and Tuesdays off.

  Gracin and I fell into a pattern. Every morning started with a run, then we’d head back to our respective homes to rest and clean up. I’d bring over lunch and we’d go over the day’s schedule. Usually that consisted of Gracin rehearsing while I ran errands, but there was always the occasional crisis I had to avert, like finding a seamstress when his favorite leather jacket ripped on the day our regular costume repair lady was in the hospital. Most nights, we’d have a light dinner in his dressing room before show time. When it was over, I’d head home and crash. Rinse and repeat.

  It worked, but I needed a break. Even though we’d stopped fighting, I needed to spend some time having a life. All I had was the show. Quite frankly, the show could suck it.

  At the top of my list of things to do on my two days off: sleeping in—which meant it was a surprise when Mom roused me at six-thirty. I had a visitor. Mom’s eyes glazed over in that still sleep-induced state as she headed down the hall to her bedroom. I rubbed my eyes, too tired to work up any anger. It didn’t matter. I already knew it was Gracin. Nobody else would knock on my door before ten in the morning.

  He stood in the hallway, dressed for a run.

  Oh no.

  “What happened?” He cocked his head to the right, staring at me like I was a science experiment gone wrong. I probably looked like one. “I was … Why didn’t you show up?”

  An eye-watering yawn slipped free as I said, “It’s my day off.”

  “Oh,” he glanced toward the door. I had to admit it impressed me how much he understood. His head snapped back around, and I saw the hurt in his eyes. “I thought you enjoyed our runs.”

  Oh, crap. Another moment I wished I could lie to him. “I do, but …,” another yawn interrupted my sentence. I smacked my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut. I was so not a morning person. “Sorry. I do enjoy running with you, but I’m tired. We’ve been going nonstop and I need a break.”

  He nodded. I waited while he stared at his too expensive sneakers and traced the seams between tiles. His hands were behind his back, and his shoulders tensed with each of his breaths. I could see his mouth tightened into a thin line. He really wanted to run this morning, and he really wanted me to go with.

  After another minute, I broke. “Fine. Let me change.”

  “Only if you want,” he said, the tension easing from his body.

  I rolled my eyes. “It won’t kill me, but we need to discuss boundaries, buddy. My time is precious, you know.”

  “May God forgive me for interrupting your unnecessary beauty sleep.” He bowed gallantly.

  I spun away as he chuckled. My mind focused on the word “unnecessary.” Did that mean he thought I was beautiful or I was so far gone no amount of sleep would help? I shook the first thought out of my head immediately. It didn’t matter. There were plenty of guys I thought were attractive, but it didn’t mean I wanted them in any carnal way. A giggle slipped between my lips. Thinking of Gracin and carnal in the same sentence made me flush like a freshman. I grabbed the clothes I ran in yesterday. They reeked, but I threw them on anyway. Since I hadn’t planned on running this morning, I hadn’t washed them. This was a reason to go shopping. Like I needed a reason. Maybe I could sneak some outlet time in while I shot from place to place taking care of errands for Gracin.

  “Ready?” I asked as I strolled back down the hall. Gracin wasn’t by the door where I’d left him. He’d moved into the living room, where he stared at the family photos on the bookshelf that didn’t hold books. Mom was a firm believer of showing off her family, so there were pictures all over the place. They all brought back great memories, even if some were slightly embarrassing.

  Gracin pointed to one of me and Luke in ugly yellow lifejackets. Our arms were around each other’s shoulders, and the laughter we’d shared hadn’t left our faces. Miranda took it after we’d done our first tandem ski the summer before my freshman year. But Gracin wasn’t pointing to me or Luke. His finger hovered over the edge of the picture by the world’s ugliest elbow.

  “Was that cut off for some reason?” he asked, cocking his head to the left to get a better angle. Not like that would help him see the person the elbow belonged to.

  Yes, there was a damned good reason. I shuddered and tried to contain it. The photo had been taken two weeks before … well, just before. I swallowed the lump in my throat and fake smiled. “Miranda took it. She just sucks at photography.”

  I consoled myself that I hadn’t really lied. Miranda had taken the photo and she did suck at photography. But I’d cut the person out of the photo. If I didn’t actually answer the question, it wasn’t a lie, right?

  Gracin motioned in a circle at the photos. “This is pretty cool, Carly.”

  The wistfulness in his voice was hard to miss.

  “Your family cares about you,” he added. When he turned toward me, he smiled. “I wish I had a sister or brother sometimes. You’re lucky.”

  I snorted at that. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Gracin. My brother’s tortured me my entire life, and my little sister steals my shit. I found half my wardrobe just by walking into her room.”

  He laughed and glanced back at the photos. “Still lucky.”

  It wasn’t my idea, I swear it wasn’t. My hand developed a mind of its own as it reached toward him and trailed down his upper arm to his elbow, stopping there. Gracin’s eyes immedia
tely went to where my fingers burned into his skin. The electric current between us was almost visible. Imagine if I kissed him.

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. Get that thought out of your head, Carly.

  Gracin stepped back, letting my hand fall limp back to me.

  “Ready?” he asked in a strained voice.

  I gulped, knowing my disappointment showed on my face like a zit on prom night. “Yeah.”

  He nodded and took a wide berth around me to get to the door. I followed at a three-step distance outside. We stretched in silence, and at opposite ends of the driveway. The awkwardness extended to our run. Normally, we’d run side by side matching each other’s pace, but I hung back and Gracin sped up. After a mile of this crap, I matched his pace.

  “What’s your problem?” I asked between breaths.

  Gracin glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t respond.

  I shook my head, stepping up my pace a bit. “You’re such a child, you know that?”

  “How so?” Gracin lengthened his stride to match mine.

  “How do you think?”

  “I’m not the one trying to outpace his running partner.” He grinned and slowed down to our usual speed. The smile disappeared after two steps when his eyebrows battled for position above his nose. I’d quickly learned this look meant he was having an internal debate, and it was best to wait it out. Several times, he opened his mouth, only to snap it shut again. It took us another mile before Gracin finally said what he wanted. “You … surprised me.”

  Totally not what I expected. “Never touch me again” would’ve made more sense. I posed the same question he’d asked me moments before, as innocently as I could of course. “How so?”

  Gracin didn’t crack a smile. “I wasn’t expecting … that.”

  It didn’t take a genius to realize he was trying to be honest without giving anything away. I knew what had thrown him off; I just didn’t understand why. If I asked, he might not answer in the way I wanted. So I didn’t ask.

  I cleared my throat. “What’re you planning on doing today?”

  Gracin shrugged, his mind clearly somewhere else. Was it back in my living room? All I had done was touch his arm for the span of ten seconds. Ten incredibly intense seconds.