by Emily Bishop
“Well, I’m assuming Bruna is going to these great theatrical lengths to win you back. What else could it be? A childhood sweetheart, coming back to claim what she thinks is hers. How would Bruna take it if she heard you were taken?” Summer pressed.
I stopped in my tracks. She would be destroyed. Shattered. A smile tugged at my lips. If I stamped out this ridiculous idea in Bruna’s head that I would never be hers, she wouldn’t bother to go through these antics to get me back.
She might even back off.
“She wouldn’t take it well. It might even be enough to put her off and leave me alone.”
Summer squealed in delight, clapping her hands together in enthusiasm. “It’s settled then. Let’s pretend to be engaged!”
My jaw dropped open involuntarily.
What the actual…? This woman was insane. I still had to figure out whether it was the good kind or not.
Registering my surprise, Summer sprung into action mode. “Let’s embark on a fake engagement to ward off your crazy ex fiancée. Oh my god, I love it. Think about it, James, this might actually throw her off your back. If you ask me, it’s an opportunity too big to pass up.” Smirking, Summer did a little skip. “Say something,” she pleaded.
I couldn’t. I was speechless. There was logic to her little idea.
But wait…knowing Summer, knowing all people in general, what was in it for her? “Let me get this straight. You are willing to embark on a fake engagement with a near stranger, to push another woman away, out of the generosity of your heart?”
Summer looked taken aback.
Aha! I had caught her.
“Of course it wouldn’t be just with the goodness of my heart. Although I do like to see myself as a kind-hearted soul.” Summer joked, smirking before she continued. “But yes, actually, there is one thing you can do for me…” Her words trailed away.
“I knew it.” I snapped, before I could stop myself.
“I just want one thing from you. You already know what it is. I want to document your work at your ranch. For my scoop.” Summer rose up to meet my eyes. Fire and intent burned in her expression.
I suddenly realized that Summer would stop at nothing to get her story.
The silence was awkward and immediate. She was just like the rest of them.
I’ll do this for you, if you do this for me.
I had encountered time and time again people like that. Hell, I had been like that once, hadn’t I? As partner of one of the biggest corporate law firms in New York, my lifestyle had been lavish, with two free tickets to the ballet or the theatre, meals at top-level restaurants, always living in fancy penthouses. At the cost of winning high-profile cases, I lived the high life once, and what had motivated me all along? Money and power. I certainly didn’t take on pro-bono cases out of the goodness of my heart.
Summer’s sharp clearing of her throat brought me back to reality.
The nerve! She was waiting for me to accept her offer.
Heart pounding in my chest, I was overcome by a sudden urge to leave and never look back.
Not able to bear her presence any longer, I looked away and continued on with my brisk walk.
Summer followed suit. I could sense her determination radiating next to me.
For a millisecond, she hesitated before continuing, “Look, James, this story means everything to me. It could be my big career break, the one I’ve been working all my life toward. My chance at being an investigative journalist. I’ll keep your name out of the story. Please.”
Summer’s words sank in, opening up the past.
Bruna had said the same thing. So desperate was she to become famous and kickstart her dream career as an actress, that she convinced me that a televised wedding was in the cards for us. I gave, after much persuasion and reluctance, because I loved her and trusted her. But it was all for show. She dumped me, on national television, at the altar and ran into the arms of another actor.
And the worst part about it all?
No, it wasn’t the humiliation of the whole world watching as her betrayal and abandonment shredded me on television. It was the fact that she got her big TV break after that. Bruna’s ambition and narcissism had been rewarded in the most sensational way possible. She got her own cut, her own reality show.
Now, Summer was standing in front of me, wanting to do the same with her career.
To use me to advance her own career.
A lump formed at the base of my throat, and suddenly I felt sick to my stomach.I didn’t want to justify myself to her. I just wanted to remove myself from the situation before it got out of hand.
In a quiet voice, as still as the arctic, I slammed her down. “That’s not going to happen, Summer. I assume you can find your own way back to the motel. I wish you the best of luck with everything.”
My throat raw with pain and with dread coursing through my veins, I did the only thing I could do to protect myself.
I walked away from Summer.
Chapter 7
Summer
Fudge. Double fudge. Triple fudge.
How could this be happening? How?
I rested my head against the wheel and screamed like a banshee or a madwoman.
It was pointless though. My scream was drowned out by the pounding rain battering my car windows. The wind wept in reply, and then for added measure, it threw a hissy fit and slammed into my windshield.
Yes, I was going mad. And I had Dripping Springs to thank for that.
Three unsuccessful attempts on my life: two cows, one electric plug, and now a storm in the middle of summer.
Nothing was going right. Not even my tires, which conveniently decided to give out on me in the middle of a maddening storm. As if my situation couldn’t get any worse, I had no phone reception.
What a cliché.
Stuck on some remote road with nothing but fields and angry trees surrounding me, I resigned myself to my fate.
At least I had Bon Iver with me, singing his raw heart out in the background, courtesy of my gloomy Spotify playlist.
I caved in and allowed the memories of the past couple of days to flood in.
It all came back to James.
The infuriating closed-off, mind-boggling James.
He was like a riddle I couldn’t solve. I sensed a pattern forming. One minute we’re bantering and flirting like crazy, and then the next, the scenario ends with a fight, with one of us storming off.
I had to walk on eggshells around him. Especially when it came to my story—James didn’t take kindly to the words media and journalism. In fact, there was something elusive there, something that seemed to trigger him.
After he had humiliatingly abandoned me in the middle of the street yesterday, with a cold brush-off as if we were distant neighbors or something. That had been the last straw. For all the ways he made my body sing with desire, I didn’t have the energy to ride this out with him.
I was here for one thing, and one thing only. My story. And look how that turned out. Five days into my trip and I wasn’t any closer to finding a source to interview. After dashing around a couple of different real estate properties, I finally came to the realization that no one in this town wanted to help me. Turns out client confidentiality is taken seriously here.
They were useless, the bunch of them. My final plan was to drive around tomorrow to ranch properties and knock on doors like a desperate madwoman.
Really though, I sensed I was running out of options. Which only could mean one thing.
Bye bye, serious journalism, and hello desk job at a celebrity magazine. I swear if I had to write one more article on Miley Cyrus’s paleo diet, I was going to bash my head in against the wall.
And my mom. Hah, I knew what she’d would say. “For all the money we spent on you, for all we sacrificed for you to go to Yale, how have you not found a job yet, polyagapiménos?” The disappointment would undoubtedly roll right off of her rapid Greek tongue. I could picture her crossing herself and looking up at
the sky again, asking god, what’s wrong with my darling daughter?
Inwardly I rolled my eyes at the thought. I brought myself back to the present and eyed the storm suspiciously. If anything, the storm was growing more determined.
I shuddered. Thank god I was warm and dry in this car.
In that second, another car drove up toward me, a beam of yellow light blinding me.
Hurray! Help at last. Really though, I was an idiot for not double checking the trunk. Who drives across state lines and doesn’t have a spare tire?
A figure climbed out of the car and ran toward me in the pouring rain.
Obscured by the batter of the rain, at first I couldn’t make out the person’s features.
But then a face pressed itself up against my window, and my insides froze.
Not him again. But how? But no. But how?
There he stood, soaking wet and deliciously handsome. His thin T-shirt clung wetly to him, and he was toned. Like chiseled rock-toned. My eyes lingered a second too long on his soaking, muscled chest, before I looked up to meet his stare. James’s eyes widened in recognition.
Should I flip him the bird? I was half-tempted, but an inner voice told me it was a childish move. I needed James to get me out of my current predicament.
I groaned, rolled down my shitty windows, and instantly regretted it. A curtain of water punched me in the face. The wind whipped and grinded, blowing my hair to shreds. I tilted my head away.
I could do without Godzilla hair for a day.
“You,” James roared against the wind.
I cast him my look reserved for assholes. I didn’t address him.
That didn’t deter him. “How did you get into this predicament? Wait. Actually, I shouldn’t be surprised, considering we’re talking about you, after all.” Yet his words weren’t menacing. It almost sounded like he was entertained by this situation.
Well, I most certainly wasn’t amused. I threw him a stone-cold glare.
“OK, ice queen, I’m assuming you’re not here for kicks. Which means, either you hit another lone cow—"
I huffed at that, rolling my eyes.
James smirked at my reaction and continued. “Or, and that’s a big or, your tire is flat. Which leaves me with two assumptions. Assumption A, you don’t know how to change a flat tire—"
I hissed at him. How dare he insult my intelligence? Of course I knew how to change a flat tire.
“Assumption B, you don’t have a spare. I’m not sure which one is worse.”
I opened my mouth to speak but closed it. I had nothing to say to him. Breaking eye contact, I stared straight ahead and adjusted the volume of my speakers. Bon Iver’s Skinny Love blasted through, drowning out James’s voice.
Much better. I smiled and settled into my seat, drumming my fingers on the wheel.
James wasn’t giving up. He reached over and opened my door, actually opened it, without my permission.
I jerked my head toward him, my jaw dropping open like a goldfish. “What are you doing?” I shouted over the music and the storm.
His tall lean mass bent in until he was inches from my face. He was dripping wet, his locks sending droplets onto my face.
Holy moly. His eyes, his dark sea-colored eyes came to life. I found myself drowning in the bottomless depths of blue. He smelled like rain and pine oak, and a shiver ran down my spine. I suspected it had nothing to do with the wind.
“Bon Iver. Nice.” He smiled, his eyes traveling down to my lips and then back up again, to my nose, until they settled on my eyes again.
My stomach flipped.
“Summer,” he murmured, his voice so gentle, so unlike his usual gruff coolness, that it took me aback.
With my heart in my mouth, it was a struggle to form a coherent sentence.
“You said, ‘I wish you the best of luck.’ So let me return the favor. I wish you the best of luck.” My words came out in almost a whisper, but somehow he heard.
He arched an eyebrow infinitesimally. “Have you forgotten that it’s your tire that’s flat?”
“That’s beside the point. I’m sick of your behavior. Don’t for one second think I’m going to come back running with open arms to forgive you once you fix my tire, or something. You’ve got some serious issues you need to work through,” I snapped.
His gaze darkened. The silence between us was palpable, so palpable, in fact, that his breaths became shallower and shallower.
“I’m not good at this,” James muttered, inhaling sharply.
Was that a hint of pain I could detect?
“Good at what? Being a nice person?” I snapped back. I had to drive the point home. He had to decide if he was going to be nice to me or an asshole. There was no middle ground with me.
“I was once nice. Then life happened, and it fucked me up. It fucked me up so bad, Summer, that I’m not sure I can come back from it.” His voice broke. James was giving me a glimpse into himself, and I knew it was eating at him. He wasn’t used to opening up to anyone.
His statement tugged at my heart, yet my stubborn derriere remained firmly planted on the seat.
He was going to have to try harder than that.
James leaned out of the car, until he was exposed again in the elements.
Wait, what?
He turned his back on me, and I watched him walk back to his car.
What a jerk. If he thought he could leave me out here alone, in the middle of a storm with a flat tire, then he had another thing coming.
My anger came like an onslaught and my vision darkened.
I was not going to sit here and tolerate this behavior.
Bracing myself for the rain, I climbed out of my safety net. Instantly drenched like a drowned rat, I stalked over to him.
Well, it was more like hobbled over to him, considering the wind was particularly relentless tonight.
I gritted my teeth and shouted after him. Luckily, the wind picked up my voice and carried it toward him. He stopped in his tracks and turned around, eyes widening.
He charged over to me, shaking his head furiously. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“What do YOU think you’re doing? Leaving me hanging dry here by myself while you drive off into the sunset!” I yelled.
He paused for a second, confusion flickering past his features. “Leaving? I was going to get a spare tire and do you a favor. You really are something.”
“Wait, what?” I cocked my head to the side. I tried to backtrack, but it came out clumsy. “Well, that’s not what it looked like. And besides, how did you end up going with assumption B?”
The rattle of thunder responded for us. Rain pelted down on us, pushing us closer together.
And then he did that thing of his that set my heart on fire. He ran a hand through his soaked hair, leaving it a tousled mess of locks as droplets fell from the tips and ran down the sides of his face. Our eyes met, his stormy blue blended with my forest green, and that’s all we needed.
James’s lips reached mine and enveloped me. They were soft as velvet, so supple. Waves of heat raced through me, surging up from my toes all the way to my heart.
I responded to his kiss with an intensity I didn’t know I possessed, moving against his rhythm, letting his tongue in to caress and demand.
Our lips molded together in a perfect line, our kisses growing hungrier.
James let out a growl, and holy fuck, my legs just wobbled into pudding.
He lifted me up in one fluid movement, and without thinking, I wrapped my legs around his solid form, running my hands up the nape of his neck all the way into his hair.
At long last, I had my fingers immersed in his wavy locks, and a strangled moan escaped me.
He broke away, leaving me gasping for air. His eyes burned with desire and want, yet there was a darkness and danger to them that made me unravel at the seams.
His eyes did things to me that no one ever had. Weak-legged and lightheaded with my own desire for him, I rested my hand under
neath his chin and then stroked it softly.
“Summer.” He said my name with passion, in a rugged breath. And then he carried me to the hood of his car, as if I weighed nothing, and pressed me down, his lips crashing into mine again. My hands wandered from his face, to his hard chest, and onto his tight biceps.
Letting out a sudden growl, James grabbed hold of my wrists and then captured them above my head easily.
Whoa. That was hot.
Tilting his head to the side, he leaned in and pressed his lips against my throat. I moaned and fire shot up my pussy. In that second, I never wanted another man like I wanted him. Whimpering, I melted under his lips and grip, and gave myself completely.
Reaching back, James murmured against my ear, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
I gazed up into his lustrous eyes and had a sudden urge to tear off his shirt, right there in the middle of storm. Rain continued to beat down on us mercilessly, yet we were alone.
“I want you now.” I rasped out, my breathing getting increasingly shallower.
This was madness. We were in the middle of a public road—in a storm no less—yet I wanted him so badly that tears spaung up to my eyes.
“Your wish is my command,” James murmured to my ear playfully.
In one quick second, he lifted me up again and then opened up the back of his Jeep.
He gently placed me down, caressed my cheek and looked down at me with dangerous intent.
James didn’t waste another second. He dove right in, his tongue traveling down, down my neck, sending fresh goosebumps up my spine.
With one fluid motion of his hands, he ripped open my shirt. Then his lips were in direct contact with my bare skin, and my back arched in ecstasy.
The world had stopped making sense.
His lips moved back up, recapturing my lips, and this time an animalistic growl escaped me.
He unfastened my lacy bra and dipped his head down to suck my left nipple.“Don’t stop,” I gasped, shutting my eyes in bliss.
As the storm crashed all around us, his hand moved down until he reached my jeans. My eyes cracked open at his electric touch.
James unzipped my pants, and then tortuously slowly, he peeled them off me, his eyes never leaving mine.
