The Perfect Indulgence

by Isabel Sharpe

  Summer looked down at the pavement, unable to make up her mind. It wasn’t as if she had important things to do this afternoon. She’d been planning to make brownies to go with studying for her child-development class. Maybe clean a little. But both those things could wait, and this guy seemed to need a friend.

  Maybe she did, too. She hadn’t done anything spontaneous or fun in a while. Not since the night she and Chris got their tattoos. “Okay.”

  “Excellent.” He gestured toward the car. “I’ve had no one but Zac for company for the past week.”

  “Could be worse.” She crossed back toward the Prius. Luke seemed a lot taller up close than he’d seemed across the counter at Slow Pour, just over six feet, maybe, while Zac was six-three or six-four. “Your brother is a great guy.”

  “He’s done a lot for me.” He walked with her around the car and opened the passenger door, an old-fashioned gesture that surprised her. “Sometimes I think I’ll never be able to repay him. Other times I want him to leave me the hell alone so I can make my own way.”

  She waited for him to climb into the driver’s seat, again struck by how open Luke was with his thoughts and feelings, even to a virtual stranger. Very different from Zac, who seemed to keep his emotions close. “Weren’t you making your own way when you got arrested?”

  “Oh. Well, yeah.” He put the car in gear and moved onto the road. “There’s that.”

  “You have a temper?”

  “Apparently.”

  “With women?”

  “Oh, no.” He turned to look at her. “Never like that.”

  “The road?” She pointed toward an upcoming curve. “Might want to keep an eye on it?”

  “Oh, the road, right. I forgot.” He winked at her, that goofy boyish grin combining with his blue eyes and dark lashes to make him irresistible. She’d bet he could have his pick of women.

  The thought strengthened her determination not to succumb. Guys like that—handsome, charming and very aware of it—took it for granted that women would fall for them. She didn’t want to be just another number.

  “Where do you want to go?”

  She thought for a minute and lit on an improbable destination. “In another half mile or so, turn left onto Old Creek Road.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Whoa, a woman of mystery.” He chuckled, sounding so much like Zac again that she found herself turning to look at him, as if he might have somehow switched places with his brother.

  They drove Oak Creek Road through green-brown hills dotted with occasional clusters of low trees.

  “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

  Summer choked back a surprised laugh. “You don’t hold back, do you.”

  “Why should I? I want to know. If you’re dating a guy with a gun and a jealous streak, I’m letting you out at the next corner. If you’re dating a jerk with an attitude, I’ll sock him in the nose.”

  “Because that worked so well for you last time.”

  “If—” His laughter interrupted. “If you’re dating a geek who wears plaid shorts, I’ll talk you out of him.”

  “And if I’m single?” She flashed him a curious glance, wondering how he’d handle that one.

  “If you’re single, the men around here are idiots.”

  “Thank you.” She was flattered even if it was probably just a line. “I’m single, taking a break from relationships.”

  “Yeah? They haven’t been working out?”

  “Nope.”

  “How come?”

  She shot him an incredulous look. “No boundaries with you, huh?”

  “You want some, you just have to tell me.”

  She thought that one over for a while. His honesty was refreshing, and in stark contrast to her habit of revealing as little as possible about herself. The less people knew, the less they could judge and find fault. “The last two guys I dated both had serious issues.”

  “Psychological?”

  “Chemical. And with the law.”

  “Yeah?” He glanced over at her. “So you like guys who are trouble?

  “Let’s say I’m trying to quit.”

  He laughed at that. “Yeah, me, too.”

  She let a few more miles go by, not wanting to sound too eager to ask her next question. He seemed comfortable with the silence. She liked that, too. “What about you? Are you single?”

  “Single as the day my girlfriend left me.” He spoke with a lilting twang, as if he was singing a country song, and shot her a mischievous grin that took her breath away.

  Summer would have to work hard on this not-succumbing thing.

  Outside San Miguel, she directed him off Highway 101 and to Mission San Miguel Arcangel, a beautiful church complex dating from the late-eighteenth century.

  Admittedly, the destination was a test. She was curious enough about Luke to want to know how he’d react to a decidedly low-tech, low-excitement, highly educational and culturally significant site.

  He parked the car and gazed at the tile-roofed buildings and chapel. “You’re taking me to church?”

  “It’s a beautiful place.” She opened her door. “The monks made wine here. You can pretend it’s a frat house.”

  “Sweet.”

  They toured the living quarters of the friars, the kitchen, the peaceful quadrangle and the beautiful church, still with its original frescoes. Summer watched Luke to see if he’d act bored and restless, if he’d crack jokes and focus on himself.

  He didn’t. He lowered his voice, responding to the hushed, sacred atmosphere, and abandoned his swagger, adapting to the reverent spirit of the place. Luke did let loose one crack that made it plain he’d never become a monk, but that was funny, if not totally obvious.

  So he was Zac’s brother after all, with depth, gentleness and intellectual curiosity. It fit in with her personal theory that while pain could alter behavior, it couldn’t change the core of a person.

  The only downside was that Summer’s nice, easy reason to dismiss Luke out of hand had been seriously weakened, which made her attraction to him more complicated, and more compelling.

  After the tour, they walked back to the car, shoulders and hands bumping occasionally.

  “Do you want to go get something to eat?”

  Summer glanced at her watch. “Don’t you have to get the car back to Zac?”

  “Oh.” He scratched his head, grimacing. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

  Yeah, she guessed he did, too, and was grateful for the reality check. Maybe he’d just lost track of time, but she’d bet he’d put that responsibility completely out of his mind, and that it was how he usually operated, doing what he wanted when he wanted, without thought to anyone or anything else—a hot button for Summer, who already felt responsible for herself and her younger siblings and sometimes her parents. She wanted to be with someone who’d share in that responsibility, not add to it.

  “I’ll drive you home, then.”

  “Thanks.” She got into the car and buckled up, feeling confused and crabby.

  “You trust me enough to tell me your address now?”

  “Yeah.” She sent him a look. “You do anything that pisses me off, Zac will kick your ass.”

  He turned on the radio, making a face when a jazz station came on. “I might kick his ass for having such bad taste in music.”

  “Why, what do you like?”

  “Guess.” He shot her a bet-you-never-will look, all mischief and humor, and pulled back onto the highway, heading south.

  “Hmm, let me see.” She went through a mental catalog of her brother’s heavy, loud music. “NOFX? Rancid? Judas Priest? Hüsker Dü?”

  “Hoosker who?” He shook his head. “Never heard of them. I like more mainstream stuff than that. Linkin Park, Green Day, Panic! at the Disco, Fall Out Boy. What about you?”

  “My Chemical Romance, Rise Against, Boys Like Girls. But I also like classic oldies. The Beatles, Motown, and some artists and ban
ds my parents listened to—Joni Mitchell, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.”

  “No kidding.” He sent her an admiring glance. She felt as if she’d passed some kind of test and was annoyed at herself for being pleased. “So what’s your home life like?”

  Immediately she felt herself shutting down. He’d mentioned boundaries—this was one of hers. “It’s fine.”

  “You live with your parents?”

  “Nope. I moved out.”

  “When was that?”

  “Right after I graduated high school.” She tried to figure out how to change the subject. “I’m nineteen, in case you wanted to know.”

  “I did. Why’d you leave? Bad stuff happening at home?”

  Summer looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. She didn’t want to talk about her family. A brief summary of guys she’d dated was one thing. But this was too personal, too intimate. It was stuff she’d only share with someone she felt strongly about. Not because her home life had been dramatic or crippling, just everyday drab and ugly and embarrassing. “Not terrible, not the greatest.”

  “Don’t want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “Okay.” He didn’t seem at all offended. “So what’s the big life plan from here?”

  She groaned silently, not sure what to say. It was a perfectly normal get-to-know-you question, but no one knew about her plan to go to college, and she liked it that way. Zac had caught her studying at Carmia Park one day and she’d been tempted to tell him what she was up to, but he’d let the encounter pass without comment. That same temptation was dogging her now, but she’d be a fool to trust her secret to a guy she barely knew. Who knew how he’d react? It was hard enough for her to believe her dreams would come true sometimes, and that was without anyone else pissing on them.

  “I’m just going to hang at Slow Pour until something better comes along. Maybe get married someday.”

  “Really?” He turned to look at her, frowning. “No college?”

  She fidgeted in her seat, uncomfortable lying, reassuring herself this was none of his business unless they grew close enough that she felt comfortable sharing.

  “Nah. It’s not for me right now.” When he made no comment, she glanced over at him a few times. No reaction? He bought it? She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or hurt. “What about you?”

  “I’m going to steal cars. No, actually carjack them. And do crack. And meth. And die young in a blaze of stupidity.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.” She rolled her eyes.

  “No, it’s not nice. It’s crap, like your answer.” He glanced at her, looking annoyed. “Hang at Slow Pour? Get married? What are you afraid I’ll do if you tell me the truth, suck out your soul or something?”

  She whipped around to face him, stunned by his outburst. What the hell was that? “Is this your famous temper?”

  “You’re a terrible liar, for one thing. And you’re studying. Psychology or something. Zac told me.”

  She couldn’t handle the accusing stare anymore and sat back furiously in her seat, folding her arms across her chest. She was utterly pissed off, both at him and at herself for lying when her instinct had told her to confide in him. “I told you I was staying at Slow Pour for a while, which is true, and that college isn’t for me right now, which is also true. I don’t owe you any explanation beyond that.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. Now who has a temper?”

  “Back off, Luke.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Don’t knife me or anything. I don’t need any more trouble.”

  His humor took her anger down a notch. “I’ll try not to.”

  They drove for a long while in strained silence. Summer felt sick, aware that she wasn’t blameless for the change in the mood between them, and that she was being stubborn and immature by not making an overture to peace.

  But so was he.

  By the time they got to Carmia, however, she was sick of the tension, thinking of the fun they’d had at the mission, not wanting to thwart what could turn into a good friendship that might help them both. “Look, Luke. I’m sorry if it hurt you, but honestly, there are things I don’t share with people I don’t trust, and that was—”

  “Why did you go anywhere with me if you don’t trust me?”

  Her anger flared again, sharp and hot. Fine. If he was going to keep being a jerk, she’d do the same. “I felt sorry for you.”

  “Oh, that’s great. Thanks. Appreciate it.” They were silent except for her terse directions until he pulled up in front of her house. “See ya around.”

  Summer didn’t move. She couldn’t let it end like this. “Luke. You’re being unreasonable. We only just met.”

  “I don’t date women who feel sorry for me.”

  She rolled her eyes and shoved open the door. “You said this wasn’t a date.”

  “Get the hell out of my car, Summer.”

  “I’m gone.” She shut the door hard and peered in the window. “Nice temper, by the way. You’ll go far with that.”

  He put the car in gear and shot it forward. Summer watched until he was out of sight, lips jammed together, arms folded over her chest.

  Loser. Dork. Psycho.

  At least this time she’d gotten out long before she could get in too deep.

  5

  OH, COME ON. Zac stared in disbelief as Bodie pushed through the door of Slow Pour and headed straight for Chris—who was back to wearing that dumb wig again—Bodie’s eerily white-toothed grin on full display. It was nearly closing time, and Zac had been about to stroll over and suggest he and Chris go out for a drink. Seeing her today, watching her face light up when he walked in, then immediately shut down into that weird new way she had of not letting herself show any emotion, had just affirmed what he had to do. His next step was clear.

  In their last exchange of emails, Eva had hinted that Ames was on the verge of being offered a job at Great Grapes Wine Distributors—an immediate opening. Which would mean she’d come back to California, and Chris would return to New York. After that...well, it was possible Zac would get into Columbia, in Manhattan, but he couldn’t figure that into any plans until it happened. If Chris left town in her current skittish state of mind, that would be that—he’d have no hope. There was no point trying to start an intense relationship with a woman who was fighting her feelings that hard.

  So he’d left the office, bringing work on drought management he could do at Slow Pour, intending to propose to Chris that they maintain a casual relationship, one that involved a whole lot of good-night kisses like they’d shared last night, and whatever else those kisses led to—he had a whole lot of ideas on that front. The arrangement would be less than totally satisfying given Zac’s inexplicably deep feelings, but if he let any hint of those feelings slip too soon, Chris would have nothing to do with him.

  A decent plan. But now here, once again, was bonehead Bodie, with Slow Pour about to close and Luke due back any minute to pick Zac up. Sometimes Zac wondered if this woman was worth all the headaches.

  The memory of her warm, instantly responsive mouth provided the answer.

  But man, life was so much easier when it involved only work and fun and friendship. So simple, neat and tidy—the way engineers like him preferred things to be. Once romance and emotions got involved, the world became a complicated mess.

  “Dude!”

  Zac looked over in disbelief at the flurry of high-fiving and fist-bumping.

  Gus, decked out in bright yellow board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, his dark hair recently gelled, probably here to ask Chris out again, too.

  This was freaking nuts.

  He got only a small amount of satisfaction from seeing Chris roll her eyes at the alpha display. Maybe she’d take his advice and steer clear of both of them.

  “Hey! Guys!” She snapped her fingers to get their attention. “I’m about to close, do you want anything?”

  In a movieworthy display of maleness, Bodie took off his sunglasses and lea
ned across the counter. “Just the chance to spend some time with you.”

  Zac held his breath. If she did what any sane woman would do and threw up immediately, there was hope.

  She didn’t. She lifted a dark eyebrow. “What were you thinking?”

  “Aw, man.” Gus threw up his hands and let them drop. “I was going to ask her out.”

  “Too late, Barney.” Bodie poked him in the chest.

  That was it. Zac thumped his laptop closed and stood.

  “Zac, dude!” Gus came over for a high five. “Haven’t seen you catching any waves for a while. They were cranking this morning on dawn patrol.”

  “I was out later.”

  “Yeah? You doing anything tonight, man?”

  “Meeting my brother.” Who was now apparently going to be his date for the evening. Zac glanced pointedly at his watch, trying not to sound as annoyed and disappointed as he felt. “He’s on his way. I’m going outside to wait for him.”

  He left the shop, giving Chris a brief nod. That was it. He was outta there. She could have her Gus and Bodie and eat them, too.

  Twenty minutes later, he was still waiting and utterly pissed off. Luke wasn’t answering his phone. Zac could either walk the five miles home, or stand here like a moron, waiting for his loser brother, while any minute Chris would walk by, headed for a date with a mistake in evolution who happened to look like every woman’s surfer-dude fantasy.

  Not much of a choice.

  He headed south on La Playa, aware he was behaving like a cranky child, and not caring. Over the years he’d prided himself on maintaining an easy-come, easy-go mentality about whether any given relationship developed or not. Why fret over a romance if it wasn’t meant to be?

  Practical, sensible, downright smart.

  And then there was Chris. Why couldn’t he just say, “Guess she’s not that into me,” and move on?

  Because of the way she kissed you last night.

  So? Kissing was a pleasant activity—maybe she just enjoyed doing it. Maybe the power of their kisses hadn’t meant as much to her. Maybe it had scared her. Anything was possible. Bottom line: Chris had chosen Bodie, and Zac was done.