“Hey, babe. I’ve just been telling Ashton about this fruit juice contract I’m pitching you for. It’s going get you out there, just how we talked about, I can feel it. But we need a killer shot to clinch it. Ashton’s said he’ll do it.”
“Wha—” Ashton started.
Maya put up a hand to silence him. “The shot needs an edge, and there isn’t anyone who understands the water like he does. Or who’s willing to do whatever it takes to make the shot sing.”
Ashton watched Summer’s face. Her lips were set tight in a rigid line, her eyebrows furrowed. He’d walked through that night five years ago so many times that even the memory of it was worn thin and he had trouble remembering everything. But it looked like it was still clear to Summer. He should have begged for her forgiveness at the time, should have told her he had been as scared as she was by how intense their new relationship was. But he hadn’t, and then it had been too late. It was yet another giant regret in a life time built on making stupid mistakes. “No,” Summer said.
“Summer, let’s talk this through,” Maya said softly.
“No.” Summer said again.
“Don’t push it,” agreed Ashton. “Summer has every right to be pissed. I’m out. Talk to you later.”
Summer laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it. It was sharp and hard and brittle as if she were using it as a shield.
“What’s so funny?” Maya asked.
“That Ashton’s running away. Although, I don’t know why I would laugh at that, really. That’s what you do, isn’t it, Ashton? Run. After you’ve crushed whoever is in the way of the exit.” Summer turned her anger on Maya. “I can’t believe you thought I would work with him.”
Ashton tried to pacify her. “This wasn’t exactly how I thought our first meeting would go but—” “Really? You thought I’d roll over and pant for you like a good girl?”
“That’s a bit harsh, Summer,” Maya started, but Ashton put up a hand. “Be angry at me, sure,” he said. “I’m a dick, sure, I can live with that, but your girl here is the good guy”
“I can fight my own battles.” Summer’s jaw was tight when she spoke.
“No.” Maya put her hands on her hips, and even Ashton stopped at the sharp tone in her voice. “No, you can’t. Not in this game. You are amazing, babe. Amazing, and talented, and real, and damn hot. But this agreement with T.J. has you by the short and curlies, and if you’re going to get the right media exposure to get to the top, you’re going to have to be smart. And you’re going to have to let me help you.”
“Help her with what?”
They all swung round to see a young man with a media lanyard round his neck and a notebook in his hand. Ashton forced himself not to groan.
The reporter put out a hand. “Ms. Roberts? Mike West from Surf View Daily . You okay? That last wave was a monster.”
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Summer was smooth, her face softened and her lips relaxed into a smile.
The reporter beamed. “I’m a big fan of you and T.J. Nice to see you starting to come out from under his shadow.”
Ashton shot a look at Maya, but she didn’t take her eyes off the reporter.
“Thanks.” Summer’s smile was genuine. “The waves here are amazing this year.”
“They sure are. How is T.J. feeling about the competition?” Her smile slipped, but Ashton was pretty sure he only noticed because he was looking for it, and when he checked the reporter, he didn’t seem to have spotted it.
“Fine. He’s feeling fine.”
“That’s great to hear. It must be a great comfort for him having you by his side at these events. The support of a loved one really helps our extreme athletes, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of course.” Summer’s voice was still friendly, and she still smiled, but Ashton could see the creases at the edges of her eyes deepen, as if it was taking superhuman strength not to tell the reporter to get the hell away from her.
“Well. I just wanted to check in that you weren’t hurt. Enjoy watching the rest of the competition.” He walked off and Maya put a hand on Summer’s shoulder and shot Ashton a look that said Don’t Say Anything just as clearly as if she had said it out loud. When he was out of earshot, Summer exhaled noisily. “Fuck him.”
“I know, babe,” Maya said gently.
“Fuck all of them. Enjoy watching? Has no one noticed that I’m in the contest this year?”
“People have. The people that matter. We’re going to get you there, babe,” Maya said.
Then Summer registered Ashton’s presence again. “We are. But not with him. I’d say nice to see you again, Evans, but I make it a policy not to lie to anyone’s face.” And with that, she hoisted her board and stalked off.
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About Michele de Winton
Michele loves sunshine, chardonnay, (preferably together), chocolate, beaches, trees, great vegetarian food, steamy writing and happy endings. She’s been known to be an all-round arty type, dancing and producing theatre around the globe so it's no wonder that her first romance had a little sparkle of the stage tucked into its pages.
Being a writer was not what she was supposed to be when she ‘grew up' but then neither was being a dancer. Her poor parents. They thought that when she toddled off to law school they'd bred a responsible, useful adult and instead they got a performer and word junkie. Sometimes her performing past jumps into the dress up box and requires attention. But most of the time she’s content to stay in her PJs. All day. She writes surrounded by the whisper of trees from her home in New Zealand and with only intermittent interruptions from her two young sons and husband. (Okay more like regular interruptions, but dreaming is free.)
You can check out her other work or get in touch at www.micheledewinton.com
Thanks so much for reading! To find out more about Michele and other work ranging from Motorcycle Crews and Big City Billionaires to Dream Destination Romantic Comedy, follow Michele on Facebook , Instagram or twitter or s ign up to her newsletter for updates, giveaways and bonus reads .
The Wrong Brother for Brooke (Hot Tide Book 3) Page 16
