Summer Lovin'

by Donna Cummings

  Her phone buzzed again. She glanced down and saw a text. From her brother Charlie. She grinned when she read, "Call me ASAP. Please."

  She speed-dialed him, knowing he needed something he couldn't find in the office, and in a way it made her feel good. It was a reminder of the familiar, while everything she'd experienced the past couple weeks, as well as her future, was almost foreign in comparison.

  "Hey, Charlie, what's up?"

  "Thanks for calling back. I was wondering, could you tell me—"

  "What did you lose this time?" She laughed at how predictable her brother was. He was great at running the family business, but paperwork was not his strong suit.

  "What? Oh, no, this doesn't have to do with work."

  "Really? Oh. When I saw the ASAP, I just assumed—"

  He paused. "Don't tell me you were thinking of coming back."

  "Well, no. Maybe. Maybe I should."

  "No, you shouldn't." His tone was emphatic, surprising Mia to her core.

  "What? I seem to remember you nearly fainting from shock when I said I was leaving."

  "Because I never thought you'd get the nerve to do it!" He chuckled. "We were this close to staging an intervention."

  Mia plopped down on the edge of the bed and started laughing. Here she'd been worried about leaving her brothers in the lurch, feeling slightly selfish for wanting a different life, and all this time they had been trying to throw her out of the nest.

  "Okay, so what did you need?"

  "I need some advice. There's this new girl I've been seeing. I really like her a lot, and well, I need some help figuring out what I should do next."

  After Charlie detailed what he wanted to do for his upcoming date, Mia said, "Well, you know my philosophy—"

  "You won't know if you don't give it a try," he finished, and they both burst into laughter.

  "What about you?" he asked. "Have you decided what you're going to do?"

  That was the big question. Mia had a ton of potential answers, from what she should do, to what she wanted to do. She had changed so much in two short weeks. She knew she couldn't return to her old life, and she didn't want to anymore.

  She wasn't exactly sure what her future life looked like either. She just knew there were lots of adventures involved, and she couldn't wait to get them started. She grinned, her heart beating with excitement.

  "I'm going to—" Mia paused, trying to figure out where the pounding noise was coming from. "Charlie, can I call you back in a little bit? Somebody's at the front door."

  Chapter 9

  "Do you think we should knock again?"

  Hellboy tilted his head, but before he could bark an answer to Luke's question, the door flew open.

  "Oh, no!" Mia cried when she saw them.

  Luke's heart sank. It wasn't exactly the response he'd been hoping for.

  She blushed. "I'm sorry. That was meant for the monster. What has he done now?" She glanced around the front yard, as if she expected SWAT teams to descend on the property at any second.

  "He hasn't done anything," Luke answered with a lopsided smile. "At least, not that I know of."

  "So much for my plan to get him used to staying in his own house. He's completely adopted that mi casa, su casa thing." Mia opened the door wider, her smile lighting up her face, easing some of his worry. "Why don't you come in?"

  "Sure." Luke breathed in her tropical scent as he passed, tempted to press a kiss to her lips. Instead, he forced himself to relax, focusing on how best to plead his case.

  She motioned him into the living room. "Unless you want to sit outside?"

  "No, this is fine."

  Mia took a deep breath and blew it out, then smiled as they both sat down. She fidgeted, smoothing her shorts. Even though Luke wanted to admire her sexy legs, he couldn't take his eyes away from her face.

  She was so nervous, nibbling at her lip, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

  All at once it hit him.

  She was nervous. Just like she had been before she'd kissed him the first time.

  Luke grinned. In fact, he grinned until he thought his heart would burst from too much happiness. He knelt down next to Mia's chair and plopped Hellboy into her lap.

  "I miss you," Luke said.

  "Obviously he missed you, too," Mia answered, looking down while getting Hellboy situated. "Especially if he managed to get out of his own yard to find you."

  He lifted her chin with his index finger. "Mia. I miss you. You've only been gone for several hours, but it feels like a decade."

  She laughed, a little self-consciously. "Luke, I have so much I want to tell you—"

  He hoped he knew what she would say. But he couldn't wait any longer. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers, stopping any further words. She sighed, a perfect sound of contentment, letting him know he hadn't guessed wrong.

  Hellboy started fussing, but Mia didn't hesitate. She kept her mouth on Luke's, bending forward to put the puppy on the floor. The monster scampered off, but as far as Luke was concerned, he could tear up the whole house and Luke wouldn't care. He'd pay for the damage. He was too elated in that moment to worry about anything but Mia. He lifted her out of the chair, kissing her the entire time.

  She crossed her arms behind his neck. His hands went right to her hips, holding her tight against him. She rocked slightly, and he loved the sensation, as well as the complete bliss on her face.

  "Mia," he whispered, nibbling at her ear. He loved the way her skin reacted, goose bumps appearing at the same time he curved his arm around her waist.

  "Luke, I tried, I really did. But today I finally realized—"

  He braced himself, waiting for news he might not want to hear. Especially when she took a big breath, as if she was about to explain why they couldn't be together.

  "I'm not a fling kind of girl after all."

  Relief swamped him, and her sheepish expression made his hopes soar. "I'm not a fling kind of guy either."

  His words made her face light up, obviously convincing her of his feelings.

  "This was my first one," she admitted.

  "I'm really flattered. How about we agree this will be the last?"

  She beamed up at him, nodding slowly. Luke thought he might die of happiness in that moment.

  "I'm crazy about you, Mia."

  "I'm crazy about you, too. I know this won't be easy. With your job, and me living so far away. But I want to give it a try. I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't give it a chance."

  "We'll make it work," Luke said, determined to do whatever it took. "Do you think you could stay with me for a while longer? Once Jim and Sondra are back from their honeymoon?"

  "I'd love to," she answered. "But—"

  "But?"

  "I'll need to go home and get a few things." She brushed her hand over his hair. "When do you go back to work?"

  "Next week. Tuesday." He kissed her fingers as they reached for his hair again. "But I've realized I'm not willing to put in the hours like I used to. It's always gonna be a little crazy. That's how restaurants are. But I've got a great staff. I need to let them show what they can do now, so I can have a life."

  "Sounds like that took a while to admit," she teased.

  "Just don't let them know I said it."

  She drew a big X across her heart, setting his own to racing. "I promise."

  "What about you?" he asked. "What are you going to do?"

  "I've been thinking about it a lot, and I've deciding I'm creating a job. A business actually."

  He lifted his eyebrows.

  "I have mad skills running an office, but I don't want to be cooped up in one all day. Not after this taste of freedom." She smiled, and Luke could see how content she was with her decision. "I'm going to be a virtual assistant, helping people run their businesses, but on my terms. I can work where I want, and when I want."

  He nodded. "That sounds great. Perfect, in fact. Do you think you can fit in another clien
t?"

  "Sure," she said with a laugh. "Since I don't have any yet, there's plenty of room."

  "I've always wanted to work on a book, with my recipes, and my philosophy of food. Only I never had time for it, since I was always too busy with the restaurant. Maybe I could hire you to help me."

  "I would love that!"

  He kissed her, slowly, making both their temperatures rise to a boil.

  "See," he whispered, "I told you we'd find a way to work it all out."

  Mia rubbed her fingers across his chest, clearly not aware what she was doing to him. He was aware. Oh boy, was he aware. He tightened his arms, his arousal pressing against her.

  She blinked. "It's hard—" She burst into a fit of giggles. "I mean, it's difficult to think about all the details right now."

  "Maybe we can think later then."

  Right now there was only thing he could think about, and from the expression in Mia's eyes, it was the same thing on her mind. He planted a hot urgent kiss on her open mouth.

  "Come on. We need to go back to my place."

  In the next heartbeat, he heard clicking sounds against the wood floor, followed by another burst of laughter from Mia.

  "Come on, buddy." Luke bent and picked up the bundle of fur, turning Hellboy so he could look in his dark eyes. "Looks like you're not spending the night here after all. In fact, when your parents get home we may have to talk to them about joint custody."

  "You are too adorable," Mia said.

  Luke pretended to whimper like Hellboy usually did. "Adorable? I was going for sexy and irresistible."

  "Oh, those are definitely at the top of the list."

  He grinned, happier than he'd ever been in his life. "Are you sure? I'll be glad to demonstrate sexy and irresistible. For the rest of the day. And most of the night."

  "I'm counting on it." Mia wrapped her arm around Luke's waist, and gave Hellboy's ears a scratch. "Do you think he had anything to do with this? With us?"

  Luke pulled her close, to give her another kiss. "I'm happy to give him all the credit."

  Hellboy barked, twice, wagging his tail with approval.

  Here’s an excerpt from an upcoming release, LORD MIDNIGHT, a Regency historical about a highwayman set on revenge, and the spirited young woman who steals his heart:

  Yorkshire, 1812

  Only a miracle could halt the wedding now.

  Marisa Dunsmore whispered another hopeful prayer, though it did nothing to slow the carriage racing towards Westbrook Hall, the home of her betrothed. Soon she would have to abandon dreams of aid, divine or otherwise, but for the moment optimism was still a comfort.

  She glanced at her brother Bernard, sleeping across from her, his head lolling in a most undignified fashion against the gold silk interior. He would be horrified to learn his meticulously arranged blond curls had flattened on one side, while his cravat was crushed beyond repair. Marisa bit back a grin. Since Bernard had refused every appeal to help her escape the wedding to Lord Westbrook, she would not inform him of his sartorial faux pas.

  After all, betrayal did have its price.

  They were still several miles from Westbrook Hall, though there would be no further stops, or chances to escape. Freedom had been so near at hand at the last posting inn. As soon as the carriage had stopped, Marisa had exclaimed the interminable trip from London had shattered her nerves, putting her in dire need of the necessary. She had clapped a hand over her mouth and run to the back of the inn. Once there, she detoured for the stables, ready to borrow one of the horses awaiting its turn in the traces. She reached toward the nearest mount, her heart leaping with elation, until Bernard's hand clamped around her arm, a triumphant expression lighting his features.

  Marisa closed her eyes, weary at the reminder of her latest setback, and what it meant for her poor Aunt Althea. She tugged her red wool cloak closer, though the chill she tried to ward off was not due to any deficiency in Lord Westbrook's carriage. In truth, the coach's only defect was its inability to speed her away from the upcoming nuptials. Was it too much to hope for a small portion of divine intervention?

  A single gunshot exploded, piercing the stillness with a loud crack.

  "Stand and deliver!"

  The coach skidded to a halt, the coachman yelling out to the York horses squealing in protest. Marisa bounced on the bench seat, grabbing for something, anything, to keep herself in place. She flew across the carriage, landing atop her brother, her elbow slamming into the side of his head. Bernard sat upright, blinking as he rubbed the newly inflicted injury.

  Marisa's stomach tumbled with excitement.

  Her prayers had been answered, and so quickly.

  She darted toward the side glass, eager to glimpse the highwaymen accosting them. The carriage lamps reflected little except her own likeness, and she was not at all interested in the blue eyes and unruly blonde curls mirrored there. She rubbed the glass for a better view. The moon proved to be a brilliant lantern, illuminating the dozen or more brigands as they galloped from the surrounding beech trees, positioning their mounts around the coach.

  "It is fortunate Lord Westbrook insisted on covering his crest on the carriage door," Bernard said in a tight voice.

  Marisa swiveled to look at her brother. He tugged the ends of his cravat, frowning as the ruined linen drooped even further.

  "Why should the crest matter? They have stopped the carriage regardless."

  "You are quite valuable to your future husband," Bernard said, running his fingers through his hair.

  "Do you think they will abduct me?"

  "I apologize, poppet." He stopped his primping and reached a hand towards her. "I did not mean to frighten you. I can assure you that will not happen."

  "Oh." Marisa sagged against the silk cushions.

  Bernard laughed. "Any other female would be clawing through her reticule for her smelling salts. Yet, rather than being terrified, you are irrationally hopeful."

  "I am quite serious about not wedding Lord Westbrook."

  She could see he was ready to retort, most likely something he had uttered earlier, such as the maddening "You must marry some man, why not a wealthy one?" or the infuriating "I suppose you must insist on marrying for love".

  Before he could incense her with the phrases again, the carriage door was thrown open, flooding the coach with the chill of a spring night, and the exhilarating prospect of freedom.

  "Come join me under the stars this evening," a seductive voice invited.

  Marisa's heart raced. Some deity had heard her prayer, and answered it in a most extraordinary fashion. She stepped forward, eager to set eyes on her rescuer.

  Bernard's arm shot out and blocked the doorway.

  "I shall descend first," he said.

  "Of course," Marisa demurred, retreating to her side of the carriage.

  Bernard's eyes narrowed. "Do not attempt anything foolish, poppet."

  Marisa donned her most innocent expression. The widened eyes and raised eyebrows often deceived her father into believing she had submitted to his will. However, her brother had experienced it too many times to be duped anymore.

  "I am serious," Bernard warned, but the corner of his mouth tilted up, spoiling the admonition.

  Marisa fought off her own grin. "As am I, Bernard."

  He studied her a few moments before vaulting through the open door.

  She heard Bernard's boots hit the hard ground, followed by the highwayman's cultured tones. "Thank you for your cooperation, my good man. And your traveling companions? Have they been overcome by shyness?"

  Marisa giggled. She had been labeled many things in her twenty years, but shy was never atop the list. "Headstrong" and "hoydenish" were frequent descriptors, as was "devil's handmaiden", particularly when she refused to agree to her father's demands.

  Such as his insistence on this wedding to Lord Westbrook, a man twice her age.

  She placed a gloved hand at the opening of the carriage, her stomach fluttering with renewe
d optimism. She stretched her foot down to the metal step, but it had managed to disappear in the darkness, and she tumbled towards the paved roadway.

  "Poppet!"

  The highwayman sprang forward, before Marisa's cry of dismay was past her lips. His gloved hands caught her at the waist, and in the next heartbeat Marisa's arms reflexively encircled his neck. Once assured that she was safe, the rogue should have placed her feet on the ground, and stepped away. Instead, he slid his arms around her, placing her flush against his chest in a very scandalous fashion.

  Marisa's heart pounded, most likely with relief at avoiding disaster, though she had to admit her pulse raced anew at being held in such a protective embrace. She felt the muscled strength in the way he cradled her, yet it was tempered with gentleness, banishing any fear.

  A hint of sandalwood rose from his warm skin, mingling with the virile scent of a man accustomed to doing whatever he wished with his life. It was a combination both exotic and comforting. For the first time in a long while Marisa felt safe, and she had to fight the urge to lay her head on his shoulder.

  She closed her eyes, thankful he could not see her reddened face, or divine her wayward thoughts. He was a means to freedom, nothing more. If only Aunt Althea had not filled her head with romantic notions throughout her childhood. . .

  The highwayman lowered her until her half boots touched the ground, and only then did he release his hands. Marisa nearly sighed her disappointment.

  "I must thank you for preventing a most disastrous episode," she said.

  "I am delighted I could be of service to you, Mistress."

  The merriment in his voice caught her off guard. She glanced up, impatient to see this man who had been heaven-sent to aid her.

  Her breath stopped in her throat. In the next instant, she could not remember the correct sequence of breathing, or how to restart it now that it had halted.

  He was beyond handsome. Her brother Bernard was considered handsome, as were her other five brothers, so she was accustomed to seeing comely men on a daily basis.