Annabeth had been friends with the men far longer than Summer. She waited on them every week in their favorite bar at the W hotel, a sneeze away from the White House. Listened to their gripes, laughed at their jokes, and watched them work their way collectively through most of the women in the District. It explained why she had a more down-and-dirty viewpoint of them.
“Look, I know they still burp and scratch and walk amongst us mere mortals. But you can’t deny that Griffin’s job description literally includes rescuing people. Logan saves people from natural disasters. Riley…” Summer trailed off, because she wasn’t ready to quantify Riley even a little bit. Technically, she hadn’t had so much as a moment to think about him since Sunday. Or so she told herself. As a one hundred percent valid excuse for actively working hard at not thinking about him. Constantly.
“Forget Riley. He doesn’t know jack about computer code. Whereas yours truly just fixed that glitch on your order page.”
Summer snatched the iPad from Annabeth’s hands. Skimmed her finger over the now perfect screen shot. “You did? How did you do that? I put in a request to my site developer two days ago about it and still haven’t heard back.”
“Cut her loose,” Annabeth advised with a sharp slice of her hand across her neck. “I’m faster, undoubtedly much cooler, and free.”
“No. I mean, yes to the first two, but no to the third. I’m paying you for this…this miracle of wonderfulness.” She hugged the iPad to her chest. Annabeth’s fix had dropped her stress level by half. Now she was only at…huh. No clue if DEFCON numbers went up or down in severity. Or was it colors? Griffin would probably know. Knox probably would know, because the reserves of his brain were deeper than the Global Seed Vault in Norway. Not to mention that Riley probably knew because DEFCON indicated danger, and danger—or rather, the knowledge and avoidance of it—was Riley’s main mission in life.
“You’re already giving me the clothes I’ll wear in the photo shoot. Solving the problem was fun. Like Sudoku, but actually a little difficult. I’ve been taking those Web design classes all year, remember? Think of this as a pop quiz.”
“Seriously. You’re a lifesaver, Annabeth.” Summer was far from too proud to try and get another egg out of the golden goose. “I don’t suppose you have time to help me next week, too?”
Tapping one fingertip to her temple, she said, “Gee, can I somehow squeeze in playing with all the beautiful clothes? I think my girl card would get revoked if I turned down that offer.”
“It comes with a caveat.” Summer grabbed the gold wire and pink leather cuff Felicia hadn’t wanted and took it back over to the whitewashed accessories armoire. “You can’t comment on the size of my customers’ asses anymore.”
Scrunching up her nose, Annabeth clomped over to her and stroked a peacock-feathered belt. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“Do you talk about how drunk your customers get at the bar?”
Annabeth hooted. “Only all the time.”
Summer joined in her laughter. Because, in hindsight, it was a worthless attempt at a comparison. One that proved to Summer not only was she exhausted, but that it would be smarter not to risk downing that lemon drop martini. The revised evening plan would be to pick up a big greens-and-grains bowl at Cava, do half an hour of yoga, and slide into bed limper than an overcooked piece of fettucine.
“That’s weird.” Annabeth angled her head at the door.
“What?” Elisa was set to hold down the fort for the last hour by herself. Because Summer was done with this day. As much as she’d appreciate the profit, she didn’t need something like an entire bachelorette party coming in to find something fresh to wear to the bars.
“Why is Riley coming into your store? He doesn’t strike me as the cross-dressing type. Although, it is usually the buttoned-up, uber-reserved ones that hide the deepest secrets.”
“I really don’t think that’s it.”
Heart pounding as though she’d just slugged back a triple espresso shot, Summer went back over to the counter. Tried to look busy. Busy but calm. Busy and calm and with an air of I don’t care that we haven’t even texted in four days because I’m an entrepreneur. Which was actually the case, damn it.
Annabeth arched an impeccably groomed dark eyebrow. She swore by threading, but Summer didn’t see any need to inflict twice the pain on herself for a microscopically cleaner brow line. “Did something happen at the beach? Something you should’ve told me the moment I walked in the door today? Something…big?”
Whoops. And that was proof right there that the store had ballooned into something too big to handle. Dishing to her friends was a time-honored rite that absolutely should not have slipped through the cracks. She grabbed Annabeth’s hand and squeezed. “Something I will catch you up on over pancakes tomorrow. I promise.” Then she squeezed a little bit harder. “If you don’t say anything right now.”
Pulling from an unknown reserve of energy, Summer slid her feet back into her stilettos. The extra height helped put her on an even footing—even if only in inches—when she and Riley got into it.
Not that they’d had sex with her wearing stilettos.
Not yet.
Not that they would. Not that she had the slightest clue if they’d ever have sex again. Or if that would complicate things exponentially. Or if Riley was freaking out over what they’d done last weekend. Was that why he was here? Right after work, still in his blandly blue NTSB suit?
A suit that, despite its lack of subtle pattern or texture or pocket square, hung exquisitely off his muscled body. A suit that in no way prevented her from remembering the way his tanned arms and legs were lightly covered with dark hair. How that same dark hair angled down in a thin line that gradually grew thicker before surrounding a penis that had surged to number one status in her books after just one night.
“Hey, Annabeth.” Riley shoulder-bumped her friend by way of a greeting. “I hung up your roommate-wanted ad in the break room.” He held up a hand when she sucked in a breath as if a hurricane of words were on the way. “Look, I know you think all the NTSB agents are boring and nitpicky.”
“Yes. Those were exactly the words I used last night at the POV when I handed my flyers to Knox and Griffin and not you.” She accompanied the last two words with a finger jab into his sternum.
“I copied it. Because ‘boring’ is just another way of saying they won’t be late with the rent. ‘Nitpicky’ means they’ll clean down to the last inch of grout. You know Madison’s only hanging around to give you pity rent at this point. She wants to move in with Knox ASAP. She won’t until you find a replacement for her. Let me help.”
There he went, taking charge again. Fixing problems. Finding solutions. Taking care of everyone else. Yes, it was because he paid attention with laser-sharp focus. Yes, it used to annoy the crap out of Summer. She’d once complained that his attention made her feel like a cow eyeball laid out in a dissecting tray in sophomore biology class. Exposed. Helpless. But now she could see both the bighearted intent behind it and the ultimate win for Knox, Madison, and Annabeth.
Which was almost as annoying in and of itself as the way he used to annoy her.
Wagging her finger, Annabeth warned, “You have to personally vouch for anyone from your agency.”
“Done. The Riley Ness stamp of approval is very hard to come by, as they’ll attest.”
Her only response was a sniff. An expressive sniff that spoke of her utter lack of faith in his ability to judge a worthwhile roommate. Then she grabbed her purse from behind the counter. “My shift starts soon. I’ll see you tomorrow, Summer.”
When the door closed, it was just the two of them. No customers. Elisa wasn’t due to come back from her coffee run for another few minutes. And Riley still hadn’t bothered to say hello.
Fine. She’d break the ice. With a verbal axe.
“If you keep coming in here without buying anything, I’ll start charging you an entry fee. The price of one dress.”
“How much does that run?”
“The low end starts at three hundred. But they go all the way up to something too stratospheric for your government paycheck to handle.”
“If I tell you I’ve got a significant trust fund, will that be enough of an ante to get me five minutes of your time?”
Interesting.
Oh, the money itself didn’t interest her a bit. The fact that Riley had oodles of money and still did a job with zero perks, zero celebrity, long hours, and high stress did interest her. Also of interest? That he wasn’t blatant about the money. Knox dripped cash with every step, and it showed. But the fact that Riley chose to share a house—no matter how huge and luxurious—with his friends when he could afford his own place said a lot about who and what he prioritized in life.
All of these tiny, interesting pieces fit together to create a personality mosaic with much more depth than she’d originally credited the man with. It made Summer want to keep digging. Find out what else she didn’t know about him.
Which was not her usual MO at all.
“I can give you five minutes—with a warning not to use the boutique as a place to loiter or cruise for chicks—for free this time. We’re friends now, after all. I think.”
“Yes. Right.” Riley’s Adam’s apple bobbed convulsively. “Of course. At the very least.”
Hmmm. What were they at the very most? “Are you here to shop?”
“No. Look, I…This is weird.”
“Agreed. Most people come in to shop. Or at least browse. You seem to come in just to make both of us feel awkward.”
“Damn it.” It only took Riley three long strides to get around the counter, drive his fingers through her hair, and tilt her head back.
Then he kissed her as if his life depended on it. As if she were the only air and sunshine in the world. Hungry and tender at the same time. His lips took and gave and bruised and soothed, all at once.
When Riley pulled back, he kept his hands cradling her head. His thumbs stroking her cheekbones. “Hello.”
“Hello, indeed.”
“I should’ve led with that.”
She touched her forehead to his. Felt her breath bounce off his firm, talented lips. “Feel free to lead with that any time. Even in the middle of a conversation.”
“I think I’ve missed you.”
Summer jerked out of his grasp. Put enough space between them so that she could glare at him. “You think?”
“I’ve put a lot of energy into not thinking about you. Purposefully. Somehow, you crept through anyway.”
Riley’s statement was a verbal reflection of exactly what she’d been going through. Except that it came off far worse when he said it. Or maybe it was that his mirroring it back at Summer made her aware of just how uncomfortable and stupid her whole attempt had been.
Annoyed at both herself and Riley, she snapped out, “It makes me sound either like a stalker or some poisonous, insidious vine. Either way, your flirting skills are seriously out to lunch today.”
“I’m not trying to flirt with you. That’s my point.”
With a calculated toss of her hair that Summer knew would end with it cascading down across her cleavage, she said, “Do you always kiss women you aren’t flirting with like that?”
Riley re-centered the knot of his tie. Smoothed the hair she didn’t even remember tugging at during their kiss. “I don’t kiss women at all unless I’m trying to get them into bed.”
“Been there, done that. So then what’s your excuse for tonguing your way down my throat practically to my spleen? Not that I actually have one anymore. In case you planned to go looking for it again,” she warned darkly.
“I don’t have an excuse. I don’t have a plan.” He fisted his left hand, squeezed it as if trying to wring an excuse out of the universe. “I came here to ask for a favor. Then we got on the verge of bickering again, and I realized I hadn’t said hello. I realized I hadn’t told you how amazing you look in that dress—that it makes you look like a pinup girl from a black-and-white movie.” Funny how his tone got angrier, his voice got louder as he said such incredibly sweet things. “I realized, damn it, that it has been four days since I held you. And that was suddenly unacceptable.”
“I agree,” Summer shot back, matching him in heat and volume. It was equally frustrating to her that Riley had slipped past her defenses. She didn’t date. She didn’t have the time right now, for sure. And she didn’t need the inevitable boredom of staying with the same guy. But she hadn’t been bored once with Riley. Which was not a usual occurrence on her repeat dates.
“Fine.” Riley glared at her. The greenish blue intensity of his eyes swirled like the one time she’d seen the Northern Lights on a flight to Europe.
A shock of memory hit from a high school science class. The Northern Lights were actually a collision between particles from the Earth and the sun. That described her and Riley to a T.
Summer took his left hand. Folded hers around it. “We’re still feeling our way through this whole not-fighting thing, aren’t we?”
“It’s only been a week.” Riley stepped in closer. Close enough to trap their hands against his belly. Close enough that her breasts rubbed on his chest with each breath and his thighs bracketed hers. “I’d say we’ve come a long way.”
“Is that a not-so-veiled reference to all the fantastic sex we’ve shared?”
“What? No. I was talking about how you lured me into parasailing. That was growth. The sex was inevitable.” They both laughed.
Just like that, equilibrium was restored. All the tension disappeared from the room.
“What’s this favor you need?”
Riley pulled back his hand. Stepped away a bit. This must be serious. “You know the Naked Men podcast that we do every Sunday?”
Summer countered his moves by returning to her spot behind the counter. Mostly so she could perch on the whitewashed stool. “I’ll admit I didn’t know about the blog until Chloe met Griffin. But then I was so curious that I made sure to listen to your first podcast. I haven’t missed a single one.”
“Wow. That’s awesome.” A big-ass grin split Riley’s face. Clearly anything to do with the Naked Men was his soft spot. “You never said you were a fan.”
“You never asked.”
Pursing his lips, Riley looked at her so long she started to feel like a museum exhibit. “I’m beginning to think there’s a lot of things I missed the boat on asking you.”
“I’m an open book,” she said lightly. “Flip my pages anytime you get the urge.”
Heat flared in his eyes. Riley stepped closer. “Are we still talking about questions, or something else?”
“You’ll just have to try and see what happens.” Anticipation hung in the air for a moment, as thick as the fog that curled in over the Georgetown canal in the winter.
Riley cleared his throat. Rapped his knuckles against the counter. “Anyway, I want to kick off our seatbelt safety campaign—in a soft way—on the podcast. I want to talk about how danger can be prevented. And how if it isn’t, how a single moment can impact your life forever. We all think you’d be a great asset to that conversation.”
“You want me to guest on the podcast?” The idea was both unexpected and exciting.
“Yes.”
“Was this a majority decision and you just got tasked with twisting my arm? Or do you, personally, want me there?”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Both. Griff suggested it. Everyone fell in line fast. It makes sense to have you there. I think you’ll get the message across in a different way than we can. A way that will reach more people.”
Saying yes would be easy. It would, in fact, be the perfect solution to not having booked any speeches yet this month. A win/win for everyone involved. It was as important to Summer to have the chance to make an impact as it was to Riley. Which gave her an idea.
Today proved they hadn’t completely broken their habitual cycle of fighting. It also proved that they both wanted
to. That they both wanted more of each other, even if they couldn’t say why. Summer knew that the Riley itch would keep bugging her until she scratched it. The trick was convincing him to do the same. And she was absolutely not above a little bribery. This favor gave Summer just the leverage she needed to jack him up a notch.
“I’ll do it—on one condition.”
He swept his arm to indicate the entirety of the store. “Yes, you can plug your boutique during the podcast.”
“That’s not it, but thanks.” Summer hopped off the stool and sashayed back over to him, making sure to put a little extra sass in her swaying hips. “I want you to take me on a real date.”
Riley rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought you didn’t take me seriously.”
“I didn’t.”
“I thought I bored you.”
“I thought so too. But maybe all those assumptions were just a big mistake.” She held her breath. This could be a turning point for them. Whether it ended up being a good one or a bad one, Summer was all about giving it a shot.
He crossed his arms. His gaze drilled right into her, as if trying to mine for the truth. “I thought you didn’t date.”
Summer shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe that was a mistake, too.”
Stalking around the corner to close the distance between them, Riley said, “You know, a big part of my job is tracking mistakes. Seeing where things went wrong and fixing them.”
“Is that right?” She had him. Snared, hooked, whatever. Victory shot her off the stool to meet him.
“I see it as my duty.” Riley circled an arm around her waist. Amazing how that simple touch was all it took to light her up on the inside. And how much it made her crave more. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
She linked her arms behind his neck. This was going to be fun. “Trying something new. Fixing a wrong. Whatever you want to call it.”
“I call it dangerous,” Riley muttered. Right before lowering his lips to hers.
Chapter 12
It was only a matter of a few blocks—a few long blocks—between the NTSB and the National Gallery of Art. But since Riley was already fifteen minutes late for his date? He’d gone north on 7th Street at an actual jog. Even though running in date clothes was a good way to get the Park Police to stare at you with more interest than amusement.
Trying It All Page 13
