A Touch of Summer

by Nichole Rose

  I give it to him, telling him how proud of him I am and how great of a job he did.

  "Thanks, boss man," he says, smiling from ear to ear when I give him a fist bump.

  "Here." I grab the coffee pot off the desk and hand it to him. "Why don't you take this to Eva and ask her to help you get it set up? Since you got the pot, you get the first cup."

  "Awesome!" he says.

  I follow him out of my office, heading left while he goes right. I have to fight the urge to run to Summer's office and walk normally. Once I get there, I shove the door open without knocking. The lights are off and she's not inside. My heart sinks at the sight of the packing box sitting on top of her desk with half her shit in it. Her purse is missing from its customary hook.

  "She's gone."

  I spin around to see Liberty standing in the doorway to her office, watching me. My heart pounds, genuine fear pumping through my system. "Is she coming back?"

  "She said she'd be back tomorrow," Liberty says.

  Fuck. I have to find her. I have to tell her how I feel about her. And then I'm spanking her ass for running from me. And then I'm getting her pregnant and marrying her. Maybe not in that order, but those things are all definitely going to happen even if it takes me forever to win her forgiveness for not seeing what was right in front of me.

  "Are you going to let her quit?"

  "Hell no."

  Liberty nods like she expected that. "She lives ten minutes from here," she says and then arches a brow, "but you already know that, don't you? You follow her home every day to make sure she gets there safely."

  I nod, not bothering to deny it. Making sure Sumer is safe and happy is my job. Well, I want it to be my job. I may have already screwed up the making her happy part, but I haven't failed on the keeping her safe part.

  "You're in love with her."

  "Since the day I met her," I mumble, not denying that either. Liberty may be quiet, but she isn't the timid mouse everyone thinks she is. She has the courage of a lion when it counts. She's also observant and smart as hell. It's part of the reason I hired her.

  "I know." Liberty smiles at me. "Everyone knows."

  "They do?" I ask, surprised. No one has ever said anything or even hinted that they know I'm completely gone over the little redhead who made this place what it's become. I thought I was doing a good job keeping it under wraps. Apparently not.

  "Yeah," Liberty says. "You're not as subtle as you think you are. Summer is the only one who doesn't know that you're crazy about her."

  "I'm going to fix it," I promise.

  "You better," Liberty says and then gives me a small smile. "Good luck."

  Chapter Three

  Summer

  "What do you mean you quit your job?" my mom asks, shock in her voice. "I thought you were happy with your career, Summer."

  "I was happy," I whisper, fighting not to cry again. I already did that on the way home. Telling Dominic how I feel about him was never part of my plan. I was supposed to hand over my resignation letter, tell him how much I enjoyed working for him….and then get through the next two weeks without him ever knowing how I feel.

  He didn't let that happen though.

  I should have expected that because he never does what he's supposed to do. He's too stubborn. But now he knows the truth, and I can't take back the words any more than I can unlove him. He looked shocked and then angry. I'm so glad Tomas came in when he did, because I'm pretty sure whatever Dominic was going to say would have broken my heart into tiny pieces.

  "Summer? What's wrong, lovebug? Talk to me," Mom says.

  "I messed up." I want to curl up on her lap like I did when I was little, but she's a thousand miles away, so I curl up on the couch instead. The blinds are all drawn, leaving the living room mostly dark. My apartment doesn't get good light until late afternoon. Usually that bothers me, but not today.

  "I don't believe that," Mom says like the mere thought is absurd. Her faith in me is resolute, unyielding. It's always been that way, which is why I hate to disappoint her by telling her that the life she always envisioned for me isn't the one I want. But I might as well get it out there now. I mean, what's one more heartbreaking conversation today?

  "Remember the first time you told me that I could be whatever I wanted to be, and no one could ever tell me any different?"

  "Of course I remember," she says, a smile in her voice. "You wanted to be Chicken Little in the school play, but your classmates were teasing you because Chicken Little was supposed to be a boy. I was right, wasn't I?"

  "Yeah," I mumble. I made a kickass Chicken Little that year. At least until the King got his cape stuck on the edge of the bridge and accidentally knocked me off the stage during our final performance. I had a black eye and a broken arm, but my mom never regretted giving me that speech. She was proud of me. "I quit because I'm in love with my boss."

  She's quiet…too quiet.

  A tear slips down my cheek.

  "Oh, Summer," she finally says. "I already know you love him, lovebug."

  "You do? You never said anything."

  "Neither did you," she points out. "I figured you would talk about it when you were ready. Does he know?"

  "Yeah, I told him today."

  "He didn't take it well? Is that why you quit?"

  "Um…not exactly. I quit because I didn't want things to be awkward. I never planned to tell him at all, but it just kind of slipped out." I brush away another tear. "I don't think he was very happy about it."

  "What did he say?"

  "Nothing. I ran out after I told him how I felt."

  "Oh."

  "Yeah. Um, I love having a job and being productive," I blurt out, "but I'm not like you are. I don't want to be single my whole life. I want a husband and babies. And I want to be home with them whenever I can. I know that's not what you wanted for me, but it's what I want for me."

  "Oh, lovebug," she says, her voice gentle. "When I told you that you could be anything you wanted, I meant that. If you want to be a wife and a mom, if that's what will make you happy, you're allowed to want that. You're allowed to have that. I didn't raise you the way I did so you would be me or make the same choices I did. I raised you the way I did so you would always have options."

  She didn't have many of those for a long time. She had me when she was still in high school and struggled for a long time because her parents kicked her out. We lived in the homeless shelter for almost a year while she finished high school. I don't know how she made it through college with a baby, but she did. She never let her circumstances define her future.

  "I didn't want you to wake up at seventeen, alone and pregnant like I did," she says. "I wouldn't trade you for anything in the world, but I wanted you to be able to find your path without worrying about where your next meal would come from or if you could afford to feed your baby."

  "I didn't want to disappoint you," I whisper.

  "I could never be disappointed in you," she whispers back, her voice choked with vehement emotion. "I'm so proud of the woman you've become. You're smart and funny and have a heart the size of Texas. If Dominic doesn't see that, he's not worthy of you. I know it probably hurts right now, but it won't feel that way forever."

  "What if you're wrong?"

  "Impossible," she says with a watery laugh that lets me know I'm not the only one crying. She is too. "I'm your mom. I'm never wrong."

  I can't help but smile at that. She's told me the same thing since I was a little girl. Most of the time, she's right. But I don't know if she is this time. I've never felt for anyone what I feel for Dominic. It's like he's a part of me. When he pulled me up against his hard body today, I felt whole for…well, for the first time in my life. I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I don't think that's something that just goes away.

  "I love you, Mom."

  "I love you too, Summer."

  "I'm thinking about coming home for a little while before I start looking for another job." Domi
nic paid me really well, so I have a decent sized nest egg to rely on until I find something else. Enough to keep a roof over my head, food in the fridge, the lights turned on, and buy a ticket to see my mom.

  "I would love to have you back here, baby girl, but not because you're running away from your problems," she says. "You're stronger than that. You need to talk to him. Really talk to him this time. If you still feel like coming home after that, then you come. But not until. Deal?"

  "I'd rather run."

  "No, you wouldn't. You just think you would because you're afraid right now," she says, a smile in her voice. "Talk to him, lovebug."

  "Fine," I sigh because she's probably right. Even if all I do is say goodbye to him, I can't just disappear like the last six months never happened. I don't want to do that to him. Even though he doesn't feel the same way about me, he's still my friend. At least he was my friend. I'm not sure if we're even that anymore.

  "I've got to get back to work, but I'll call you later to check in. Love you," Mom says.

  "I love you too." I wait until she disconnects and then drop my phone into my lap, sighing heavily. Maybe I should have had that conversation with her a long time ago.

  I put it off for so long because I've always been so worried about disappointing her after everything she went through to keep me and to make a good life for me. Making sure I was able to provide for myself was so important to her. I guess I just assumed she would be disappointed if a thriving career wasn't what I wanted. I love working, especially with Dominic. But I don't want a career to be the only thing I ever have. I don't want it to be the most important thing in my life.

  My doorbell rings, making me jump. I climb to my feet and head toward the door. Once I look through the peephole, I frown. The kid standing outside my apartment looks like he's maybe sixteen or seventeen. I don't know him.

  "Who is it?" I call through the door.

  "Enchanted Gardens," he calls back. "I have a delivery for Summer Daniels."

  "From who?"

  "I don't know, ma'am. I'm just the delivery guy."

  Right. I guess they don't usually know who sends the stuff they deliver. I unlock the door and pull it open, blinking in shock when I catch sight of the hallway outside my apartment. I didn't see it through the peephole because he was blocking the view, but there are flowers everywhere. In every size, shape, and color imaginable.

  Oh my gosh.

  Did Dominic do this to convince me not to quit?

  "Are you Summer Daniels?" the kid asks me.

  I nod, not sure I can speak through the welter of emotion surging through me like a tidal wave.

  "You're supposed to sign here," he says, thrusting his clipboard in my direction.

  I take it from him and sign my name where he points, not even looking at the delivery slip.

  "Where do you want all the flowers, ma'am?"

  "Um…" I have no idea what to do with all of them. There's no way they'll all fit in my apartment. I don't have enough tables and shelves.

  "I'll take care of them."

  I jump at the sound of Dominic's voice. He steps into view at the other end of the hallway, grinning at me like he's proud of himself. He looks so handsome with his hands shoved into his pockets and his hair all messy and wild.

  Is he here because…? Does this mean…?

  My knees tremble like they're going to collapse beneath me.

  Dominic strolls toward me. His green eyes stay locked on my face like he can't look away. I can't tell what he's thinking or what this means, but my heart races away from me and my stomach flips and spins as hope courses through me.

  "Oh." The kid reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small blue box, thrusting it in my direction. "I'm supposed to give you this, too."

  "Thank you," I manage to respond, though I'm not sure how because my mouth is bone dry. The box is small…like a ring box. I can't breathe. Holy crap. What is even happening right now?

  "Have a good day." The kid squeezes past Dominic and disappears down the hall.

  "Did you do this?" I ask Dominic when he stops in front of me, my gaze bouncing from him to the box in my hand and then to the flowers before making another circuit.

  "Maybe." His lips twitch. "You always smell like flowers, but I don't know which ones. I might have gotten carried away and bought some of all of them."

  This is why I love him. He's so sweet and ridiculous and caring.

  "You going to open that and see what it is?" he asks, nodding toward the box in my hands.

  "Maybe." I'm scared to open it. I don't know what's happening here and I'm freaking out a little bit. Why is he here? Because I'm quitting? Or is there another reason? I want him to be here because he loves me too, but I'm scared to hope.

  He reaches out to move my hair away from my face. "You been crying since you left this morning, sweet girl?"

  "Maybe," I whisper again, though I think we both know I have been. It's hard to miss my puffy eyes and the mascara smeared beneath them. My nose is probably all red too. Some women look cute and cuddly when they cry. I look like I had a bad reaction to shellfish.

  Dominic doesn't seem to mind. He's got my cheek cupped in his big palm and he's smiling at me like he thinks I'm adorable or something.

  "What are you doing here, Dominic?"

  "I'm here because you're here, sunshine." He narrows his eyes on me, pinning me with a stare that says he's not very happy with me right now. "You ran away from me."

  "I thought it was for the best."

  "You thought wrong." He nods his head at the box in my hands again. "Open it."

  I open it with shaking hands and my heart in my throat. It's not a ring, but a small key. Disappointment fills me even though I try not to let it. I pick up the key, frowning at it. "What's this for?"

  "It goes to the safe in my office at home."

  "Okay?" I stare at him, confused.

  "You know my grandma was a millionaire?" he asks.

  I shake my head because I didn't know that.

  "She made a fortune when she found mineral deposits on her land after my grandfather died. She didn't want or need the money, so she gave most of it away to people in need. Said she already had everything she needed and then some and didn't see a reason to sit on a fat stack of cash when people in her community could use it more. Despite how much money she was worth when she died, she left me exactly three things. As far as I'm concerned, they're worth more than any amount of money ever could be."

  "What three things?" I stare up at him, fascinated by this little tidbit of information. I know how important his grandma is to him. He keeps her picture on his desk. But I didn't know he got his generosity and compassion from her. It makes me love him even more.

  "A one-hundred-year-old bottle of whiskey, the ring that goes in that box in your hand, and instruction on what I should do with both," he says, pulling his other hand out of his pocket and holding a note out to me. "These are the instructions."

  I take the paper from him. It's old and well worn, like he's read it more than once. It smells a little like him too, as if he's touched it often enough to have transferred his scent to the delicate paper.

  My dear boy,

  The greatest things in this life aren't the things we own but the people we love. And love, like this whiskey, is better with time. It makes us stronger, braver, better versions of ourselves.

  I had forty incredible years with your grandfather. He gave me your father, who gave me you. I wish with all my heart that your parents had lived long enough for you to know them and how much they loved one another. How much they loved you.

  My greatest wish is for you to find that kind of deep, abiding love for yourself.

  When you do, crack open this bottle and take a drink. When she agrees to marry you, you put this ring on her finger, and you drink again. And again when she gives you babies. Drink when you're bursting with love and overcome with joy. In your happiest moments with her, take a drink.

  Celebrate
her for the gift she is, dear boy, because I already know she's going to be incredible.

  I am so proud of you.

  Nan

  "Dominic," I whisper, trying to fight off tears before I ruin his letter. It's the sweetest thing I've ever read in my life. I fold it up and hand it back to him. "This is incredible."

  "She died when I was twenty-four," he says, slipping the note back into his pocket. "I've had that bottle of whiskey and her ring ever since." He cups my cheek in his palm again, using his thumb to wipe away a tear. "I took my first drink the day I met you, Summer."

  "Dominic," I manage to say, warmth spreading through me as my heart starts to race.

  "I took my second drink three months ago, when I looked around and realized that, because of you, my office felt more like home than my house did. Because you were there, and I got to spend every day with you."

  I sob his name this time, unable to stop myself.

  "I've loved you since the minute I met you. Had I known you felt the same way, I would have taken a third drink by now." He smiles at me, his eyes soft. "I would have put that ring on your finger and made you my wife, sweet girl." He reaches out, closing my fist around the key in my hand. "I've spent so much time worried about crossing a line and losing you that I didn't see what was right in front of me. I didn't see that I was the thing making you so fucking sad all this time. I was an idiot and I almost lost you anyway."

  "I don't want to quit," I cry.

  "I know you don't," he says, wiping away more tears, "but I'm not going to ask you to stay. I'm not even going to ask you to marry me today, beautiful girl. But I am giving you this key and hoping like hell you'll give me a chance to prove that I can love you the way you deserve to be loved. And when you're ready, when you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I love you beyond all reason, I hope you'll use that key and place the ring that belongs to you on your finger."