by Sami Lee
“There you are, sleepyhead. About time you got up.”
“Your mother and I have already been for a run and a swim,” his father chimed in. “Great day for it. No swell though. The ocean’s as flat as a tack.”
“Has anyone ever told you two you’re kind of sickening?”
“You have,” Irene said. “But I assumed you were joking.”
“Only half the time,” Ty quipped. “What can I do to help?”
His mother set Ty to work buttering the toast. Between the three of them, they had breakfast on the table in under three minutes.
Being an only child, Ty had always been close with his parents, and his stable, loving family life was also something he’d taken for granted. Until he’d gotten to know the Campbell girls all those years ago and realized how hard some people had it. From his conversation with Summer a few days ago, it seemed as though her family—with her sister’s distance and her father’s ongoing disapproval—was as fractured as ever.
“Plans for the day?” Irene asked, breaking into Ty’s persistent Summer-related thoughts.
“Not much going on if there’s no swell. Besides, I’ve been told not to overuse my shoulder.”
“And right you are to take Summer’s advice,” Irene said. “She’s good.”
Ty tried not to think, once again, about Summer’s hands kneading his sore spots. “I might look at a couple of properties Aaron’s recommended.”
“Good time to invest,” his father said, not for the first time. “Smart move.”
“While you’re in town would you mind picking up a few things for me?”
“Sure, Mum.”
Forty minutes later, his parents left for work. His mother was an aid worker for disabled adults and his dad was a draftsman. Without their energizing presence, the little cottage fell quiet. He called Aaron, but the receptionist said he was out until later in the afternoon. Ty read the paper, checked his emails and generally dithered about until the inaction got to him. He took his mother’s shopping list and headed into town.
He resisted the temptation to stop for coffee at the Beach Break Cafe, figuring he’d rather not risk running into Summer today. She was probably still pissed at him for kissing her, and in truth he was a little pissed at himself for doing it in the first place. What had he been thinking? As a method of finding out if she was still married, it was fairly efficient, but if he’d asked her point blank she probably would have told him the truth. Not that it was any of his business anyway.
Frowning at his circular thoughts, Ty walked into Frisky Fruit, the organic grocers that had been located in the center of town for as long as Ty could remember. He greeted the fiftyish woman behind the counter by name. Mr. and Mrs. McIntosh had owned the shop since Ty was a kid. From the storeroom out back, Mr. McIntosh called out for Ty to kick butt in Bells Beach—the location of Ty’s next competition which was due to take place in a couple of weeks. Ty promised he would do just that, then picked up a basket and headed down the first aisle.
There she was, carrying her own basket and looking like a deer that had been caught in the headlights. The very woman Ty had skipped coffee to avoid.
“Ty,” Summer said, appearing none too happy to see him.
“Sum.” Ty used the shortened version of her name on purpose and got a perverse kick out of the way she bristled when he did. Man, he really hadn’t grown up a lot. Teasing Summer was as much fun as it had been when they were teenagers. Warming to the experience, Ty drawled, “You following me?”
“What?” she sputtered. “I was here first!”
Ty smiled. “You always were an easy mark.”
Color shaded her cheeks before she turned away on the pretense of studying the nectarines. “And you always were kind of a jerk.”
“Ouch.” Ty feigned offense. “Once upon a time, I thought you liked me anyway.”
“That was before you”—she cast her gaze around before lowering her voice—“kissed me at my place of business.”
“Was it really that bad? Not my best work I’ll admit, but not the worst either.”
“Then I feel very sorry for the girl who was subjected to your worst effort.”
“Geez, Sum. Your tongue’s gotten sharp.” Ty wished he hadn’t mentioned her tongue as the remembered sensation of it stroking against his yesterday sent a warm rush through his body. Aggravated by the ongoing physical frustration he’d been carrying with him today, he snapped, “Does divorce disagree with you that much?”
Ty wished he could pull the words back when Summer paled. Tearing her gaze from his, she turned on her heel and walked farther down the aisle, away from him. Kicking himself, Ty selected a couple of nectarines before following.
Reaching around her shoulder, Ty slipped the two pieces of fruit into Summer’s shopping basket. When she turned to look at him askance, he said, “You looked like you wanted them. Consider them a peace offering. I was out of line.”
“A couple of nectarines ought to make up for it.”
Ty reached into a display of granny smith apples and picked a big shiny one off the top. “How about one of these too? I can keep going, make an ‘I’m sorry’ fruit salad.”
Her lips pursed in a way that made Ty wonder if she was trying not to smile. The sparkle in her dark eyes confirmed it as she plucked the apple out of his hand and put it into her basket. “Add some whipped cream and you might have something.”
“Deal. Do they sell that here?”
This time Summer couldn’t hide the way her lips curved. “No.”
“Damn. Guess I’ll have to owe you.”
The notion of being indebted to Summer for whipped cream made Ty imagine a few places on her body he wouldn’t mind putting it. Vivid mental pictures that Ty tried to force out of his head as he walked beside her, putting the items on his mother’s list into his basket while Summer inspected the fruit, concentrating on every tiny brown spot in a way that bordered on finicky.
Wanting Summer Campbell while the distances between them yawned as wide as canyons. There was that déjà vu again.
“So what happened?”
Once again Summer faced him. “With what?”
“Your marriage.” She stiffened and Ty shrugged by way of apology. “You can tell me it’s none of my business. I’m asking anyway.”
“Why? Why would you possibly want to know anything about my marriage to Duncan?”
Because you chose him over me. He’d never voiced that truth out loud, and thank God he managed to keep the words from spilling forth. They would have made him sound petulant and bitter. “Maybe I want to know what he had that I didn’t.”
Christ. That wasn’t much better.
Summer’s voice flattened out. “He wasn’t my sister’s boyfriend.”
“Ex-boyfriend. I never made a move on you while I was dating your sister.”
“A semantic Jasmine didn’t take time to clarify before she smashed up your car with my father’s nine iron,” Summer returned. “Ex-boyfriend or not, you weren’t a choice I could make.”
“So you chose this Duncan character. Because he was a doctor?”
She stared at him. “How did you know that?”
“When I called your home number, your father took great pleasure in telling me you were about to marry a guy who was the great white hope of modern medicine.”
Ty wished he hadn’t revealed that little tidbit when the look on Summer’s face registered her shock. “You called looking for me?”
Damn, now he really wished he hadn’t been so free with the truth. Ty was surprised to find it still made his chest feel hot and tight. With effort, he managed to maintain his casual air. “About six months after I left. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Not the whole truth, but even those words gave away that he’d still cared about her then. Ty tried not to wince.
Summer said, “Dad never told me you called.”
“I didn’t ask him to.” No, he’d gone straight to getting drunk and bein
g a loudmouth, moving on quickly to getting kicked out of the bar he was in and earning himself a citation for public nuisance in the good old US of A. At some point during his three-day bender, he’d ended up in a tattoo parlor. Ty’s hand moved reflexively to the spot on his left pec where he’d marked himself for the first time, courtesy of Summer Campbell.
“I figured you wouldn’t be interested in hearing from me,” Ty said at last. “You must have been madly in love to get hitched so young. Right?”
Chapter Four
In her shock at Ty’s assessment of the situation, Summer almost blurted the truth. She bit her lip, hard, keeping the words back. What was the point of him knowing now? There wasn’t any, other than to get it off her chest where it sat like an unwelcome pressure, constricting her breathing.
“I thought you’d forgotten about me,” she choked out, inadvertently revealing more about her motivations for marrying Duncan than she’d intended. Not the whole story, but part of it.
“What made you think that?”
Summer blurted, her tone accusatory, “I saw you kiss her.”
“Who?”
“Some girl on the television. You’d won your first event I think. She was all over you.”
Ty frowned. “I don’t remember anything about it. Not about her anyway.”
Summer snorted, offended for some reason by that hole in his memory. “I remember it.”
“So what does that have to do with you getting married?”
“Nothing,” Summer said quickly. She’d tried so hard to forget Ty, for the sake of her relationship with her sister. She couldn’t be with him, not without hurting Jasmine, so she knew she had to move on. When her father introduced her to Duncan and he’d asked her out, Summer didn’t see any plausible reason to say no.
She’d let the relationship continue for months because it seemed to make everyone happy. But she’d never given up searching the Net in secret for news of Ty. She’d seen him and that woman. He’d looked so happy, a man on top of the world, and Summer had realized in that moment Ty had moved on with more success than her. He’d forgotten all about her.
That night, she’d been desperate to prove to herself she could move on too. She’d thought Duncan was the answer. But her rash behavior only led her down another path to unhappiness.
“I get the feeling there’s more you’re not telling me.”
Ty’s words made Summer fear her thoughts were showing on her face. “There’s no more. The surf tour has groupies, I gather. It must be hard for you to distinguish one blonde from another. I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”
“Well now, are you calling me a slut?”
Rather than being bothered by the assessment, he seemed rather smug. Men. “I wouldn’t know anything about your habits in that area.”
“I haven’t been a monk, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I’m not asking anything.”
“Seems like you are. So what is it you want to know? How many? My usual type? What positions I prefer?” He held up his hand and used his fingers to check the answers off. “I haven’t exactly kept count. I like women who make me laugh and I can stay friends with after. And I’ve always been partial to a good hard screw against the wall.”
Summer gritted her teeth against the swift rise of heat his description evoked. “Thanks for that mental picture.”
Ty smirked. “You’re welcome.”
“I wasn’t being serious.”
“You’re always being serious. I’ve never met anyone as serious as you.”
“Must be the circles you travel in.” Which were evidently filled with easy, laugh-a-minute women who enjoyed being drilled hard into a wall like a Phillips-head screw. Summer’s marriage had not been characterized by such encounters, and she didn’t think they sounded very romantic. More like dreadfully uncomfortable—possibly even injurious. Most definitely unappealing.
Tell that to the liquid heat gathering in your belly.
Shaking off that traitorous thought, Summer turned away. “I have to go. I have a client coming soon.”
Ty trailed her as she headed to the cash register. “Why are you always running away from me?”
Summer began unloading the fruit, yoghurt and prepackaged salad she’d selected onto the counter. “Have you considered the possibility it’s because you’re rude and vulgar, not to mention prone to oversharing details of your sex life?”
His smile held a wealth of secret knowledge. “I haven’t shared any of the really interesting parts yet.”
Flustered by his grin and the innuendo inherent in his use of the word yet, Summer concentrated on searching through her handbag for her purse. Before she could locate it, Ty handed a couple of bills to Mrs. McIntosh and indicated she should ring up all their items on one docket.
Summer shot him a look. “What are you doing?”
“I still owe you something for your time yesterday. You wouldn’t let me buy you dinner so I’m buying you lunch.” He assessed the items being rung up and put into a biodegradable bag. “At least I assume that’s what you call all this stuff.”
“You have a problem with healthy eating? I thought you were a professional athlete.”
“I surf for a living, it’s hardly marathon running. Besides, I eat a good diet, which tends to include plenty of red meat.” He sent her a sidelong glance as he placed his own items—herbal tea, wholemeal pasta, olives and bananas—onto the counter. “Christ. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
“No. But what would be so bad about that?”
He showed her that irrepressible grin. “I’d just hate to think you’d become that virtuous.”
There was a double meaning in there somewhere, and once again Summer found herself averting her eyes from the bawdy twinkle in his. She let him pay for her food, figuring he did owe her something—for making her shopping trip so unpleasant.
No, not unpleasant, Summer. She wanted to kid herself that she found Ty’s company distasteful, but the truth was her blood danced in her veins like it was carbonated. Ty’s nearness was enthralling, as it had always been. Annoying at times, definitely challenging, but thrilling too. She felt like she’d been living in the dark for a long time and being with Ty was the long-forgotten sensation of sun touching her face.
If she wasn’t careful, she was going to get burned.
“You two have a good day now.”
Mrs. McIntosh’s farewell comment encompassed both of them, as though she and Ty were a couple. Summer opened her mouth to protest, but the smiling speculation in the other woman’s eyes told Summer that the more she tried to clarify her relationship to Ty the less the store owner would believe there was nothing romantic in it. It didn’t help that Ty picked up her bag, easily carting it with his in one hand as they both exited the store.
“I can carry my own things,” she insisted as it became clear Ty planned to cart it all the way to her practice.
“Better not. I think Mrs. Mac mixed up some of our stuff.”
“Great.” Summer pushed out a breath. “She thinks we were shopping together. That we are together.”
“Probably because you mentioned my sex life while we were at the register.”
Oh, God. She had done that. Summer groaned. “That woman is a gossip. People are going to talk.”
“So let them talk. What do you care? You worried about your reputation?”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t have a reputation. I’m not the conspicuous type.”
Ty regarded her sidelong for a moment, then shook his head on a chuckle that held an ironic note Summer couldn’t begin to interpret.
Finding herself in front of the clinic, Summer fished out her keys and slipped them into the lock. Inside the air was cooler, and the abrupt loss of bright sunlight caused spots to dance in Summer’s eyes.
Disorientated, Summer made her way to the little kitchenette out back by instinct. Her eyes had only just begun to adjust when she gestured for Ty to put the bags on the small
dining table, where they could sort through the contents. She peered inside the bag of yoghurt and salad. “Looks like the only thing that shouldn’t be here is this tea.”
“I’d better take that.”
His voice was so close to her ear it was all Summer could do to stifle a yelp. She hadn’t thought about how cramped the two of them would be in the tiny kitchenette that was barely large enough for her and Penny to inhabit at one time. She tried not to look at him as she handed him the green box, even though she could feel his attention fixed on the side of her face.
Don’t be ridiculous, Summer. She had to look at him or risk giving the impression she was afraid to do it. She turned her eyes upward until they met his. Ignoring the little kick her heart gave, she cleared her throat. “You drink peppermint tea?”
His lips twitched and his hazel eyes sparkled. “It’s for my mum.”
“Oh.” There was something inherently sweet about Ty—world-champion surfer, man’s man, ladies’ man, and all-round risk-taking rogue—running errands for his mother. Summer’s insides melted a little.
Okay, a lot.
“And for the record, I think you’re pretty damn conspicuous,” Ty said. “People notice you, Sum. I notice you. I always have.”
Summer’s head spun, both in reaction to his softly rasped words and his nearness. Belatedly she realized she was still clutching the box of tea which Ty held in his upturned hand. The smell of peppermint wafted between them, adding piquancy to the familiar earthy scent of Ty. The air seemed to crackle with electricity. Summer couldn’t tear her gaze from his.
Ty’s whiskey-warm eyes continued to hold hers as he took the tea from her grip and tossed it onto the table. He lifted a hand and touched two fingertips to her cheek, stroking along her cheekbone, lightly, as though reacquainting himself with the softness of her skin.
Then he turned her so they aligned breast to chest. Summer dared not breathe, lest her hardening nipples scrape his pecs and give her away.
“I’m going to kiss you, Sum,” he announced matter-of-factly, causing hot swirls of anticipation to churn in her belly. “Not because I’m proving some point, but because I want to. And because you want me to.”
