The Summer of Us (Mission Cove Book 1)

by Melanie Moreland

  All the years we were apart, a piece of me was missing. I learned to smile and pretend, to hide my pain away so nobody saw it. To act as if what we had shared had been a teenage love, when in fact, it was so much more. I knew I would carry it with me for the rest of my life. Carry him in my heart. I had tried to get over him, date other men—but it never worked. The closer they wanted to get, the more I pulled away. It was as if my heart refused to let him go.

  And now he was here.

  “Hey.” His voice broke through my musings.

  I startled. “Hi?”

  He smiled, lifting our entwined fingers to run his knuckles over my cheek. “You okay, Sunny-girl? You’re awfully quiet.”

  “Just thinking.”

  “Are you worried about the bakery?”

  “No, I know Shannon, Mack, and Lori will take good care of it. I’m only a call away, if needed. Now that the rush of the weekend is over, they can handle it.” I smiled as I thought about the busy weekend and how Linc and Abby had pitched in to help. “You were awesome. So was Abby. That girl has some serious baking skills.”

  He checked over his shoulder, then changed lanes. “I know. She kept that hidden all these years. I’m not sure why.”

  “I told you—it was something personal. She told me she would bake and take whatever she made to a shelter or her neighbors,” I explained. “It was something she did just for herself. She wanted to be a strong woman in your eyes,” I reiterated.

  “She is. She always will be—I know what she went through. I think she is incredible.” Linc smirked. “And it seems I am not the only one who does.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Michael is a good guy. He’d treat her well. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “Of course. It’s just that he lives in Mission Cove, and she lives in Toronto. Long-distance relationships are hard. And her lifestyle is very different.”

  “It’s the same for us, Linc,” I reminded him, my heart in my throat.

  “No. We’re different.”

  I had to say it. “Linc, I have no desire to live in Toronto.” I indicated the huge city we were engulfed in, the traffic flow heavy around us, and the crowds of people. “I don’t like big cities.”

  “We’ll work it out, Sunny. All of it. My business is transportable. And despite my wealth, I don’t think we’re that different. I’m still Linc under my fancy suit.”

  “A suit you look hot in,” I teased, making him grin. Then I became serious again.

  “I love Mission Cove. Despite our past, despite everything, it’s still home to me. I don’t think you feel the same way.”

  He glanced my way with a frown. “Where you are is home, Sunny. You always have been, and you are that again. I was lost for years without you.”

  “I felt the same way.”

  “You’re my compass, Sunny. My true north. I swear, we’ll figure it out.”

  His words warmed my heart. He was so serious and confident. Certain we would work things out. I wanted to believe him, to trust that he wanted this as much as I did. I smiled at him, letting the subject drop for now. I covered my mouth as a yawn escaped.

  “We’re almost there.” He chuckled. “I’m going to take you to my house. You can have a nap while I’m at my meeting, then we have the rest of the day together. I’ve made dinner reservations for tonight, and I have tickets to a show.”

  “That sounds wonderful. I hope the dress I brought is okay.”

  “You’ll be beautiful.”

  I felt my cheeks warm at his sincerity. “I think you’re biased,” I mumbled as we pulled into a quieter neighborhood. The houses were all tall, with garages on the main floor and a long flight of steps leading to the front door. Huge windows and spotless brick exteriors glinted in the morning sun. The street he turned onto was wide and circular with a fountain in the middle, an unexpected sight. Linc hit a button, and the garage door on a house with charcoal-gray brick, trimmed in glossy black, slid open. He parked the car, the door shutting behind us. He stepped from the vehicle and came around to open my door. I loved the fact that he still did that for me. He held out his hand, pulling me from the passenger seat. Bending down, he brushed a kiss to my mouth. “Welcome to my house, Sunny.”

  I looked around in awe. Linc’s house was stunning. We climbed the steps inside from the garage. I spied a workout room on the lower level and some other areas, but when we reached the main floor, my jaw dropped. Glossy marble floors, dark hardwoods, and light were all around me. A spacious living room, an elegant dining room, and a massive kitchen took up the entire level. The furniture was masculine and large. The walls a warm white, offset with colorful artwork. The kitchen was sleek and modern, and I may have squealed at the Keurig built into the fancy refrigerator. The floors were warm under my feet, and I gazed longingly at the massive gas stove.

  “Do you cook?” I asked, running my fingers over the glossy surface.

  “No,” he replied, sounding amused. “I have a housekeeper. I can do the basics, but she handles the rest.”

  “Oh.”

  He held out his hand. “I’ll show you upstairs.”

  I followed him, studying the framed images on the walls, marveling at the thick carpet on the stairs. He waved toward the left. “My home office and a guest room.” He opened a set of double doors.

  “My room.”

  My eyes widened as I took in the expansive room. A king-sized bed faced the large windows that overlooked the fountain on the street. The walls were a rich blue, the molding a crisp white, giving the room a cozy, warm feel. I peeked into a massive walk-in closet, then followed Linc as he entered the bathroom. I stared at the large shower with multiheaded jets, then in longing at the gigantic tub.

  Linc stepped behind me, wrapping me in his arms. “Maybe you can have a bath. You used to love soaking in the tub.”

  “I still do,” I replied quietly, feeling overwhelmed as I looked around.

  He spun me in his arms. “Hey, what is it?”

  I shook my head, but he refused to let me go, tipping up my chin to make me look him in the eye. “What?” he demanded. “Tell me.”

  “I’m embarrassed,” I admitted. “Having you stay at that little apartment. You seeing my place—compared to this, it’s a hovel,” I admitted.

  “Stop it,” he growled. “I love the little apartment, and your place is not a hovel. It’s yours—it’s you. The fact that you’re in it makes it special.” He indicated the room. “They’re just walls, Sunny. It’s a place I sleep, eat, and work. It’s always just been a house.” He bent down and kissed me. “With you standing in it, it feels like a home now.”

  He always said the right thing. His words were like a soothing balm over my heart. I stared up at him, his blue eyes sincere and warm, darkening with intensity as he met my gaze. His hands, resting on my hips, tightened, and the air around us bubbled with heat. My breathing picked up, and before I could stop myself, I flung my arms around his neck and kissed him.

  If I shocked him, he recovered fast, yanking me close and taking control of the kiss. His mouth dominated mine, his tongue pressing in, stroking over mine with long, sensuous passes. I gasped as he wrapped his large hands around my thighs, lifting me to the counter, stepping between my legs as he continued to work my mouth. I whimpered as he tugged me close, and I felt his erection trapped between us. He slid his hands under my shirt, gliding them up my back, spreading his fingers wide, his touch warm and sure. He dragged his lips down my neck, across my cheek to my ear, his voice raspy.

  “Fuck, Sunny. I want you.”

  I wrapped my legs around his waist.

  He hissed and cursed. “Baby, I have a meeting.”

  “Okay.” But I offered him my mouth again, and he took it.

  He devoured me, trailing his fingers up and down my back, sliding them under the fabric of my camisole, feathering them over the sides of my breasts. My nipples hardened, and I felt the pulse of desire grow in my core. “Linc,” I whimpered.

  “
Jesus,” he panted. “I want to spend hours with you, Sunny. Kissing you. Holding you. Making love to you,” he added with a low growl. “Not fuck you in the bathroom and leave you alone right away.” He rested his head on my shoulder, then raised his chin and met my eyes. His were dark with desire. “You are too beautiful. I can’t resist you.”

  I cupped his face in my hands and kissed his mouth. Then his cheeks, nose, and finally his forehead, peppering light kisses on his skin. “Then go and do what you have to do. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  He stared at me, a wondrous look on his face. “How did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Make me feel…adored,” he breathed out, his voice incredulous.

  “You are.”

  Our eyes locked, a moment of clarity and silent conversation happening between us. He nodded as if answering a question, then scooped me into his arms and carried me into his bedroom. He set me on the bed gently as if I was the most delicate of sculptures. He kissed my forehead. “Sleep while I’m gone. It’s Mrs. Ellis’s day off, so you won’t be disturbed.”

  “I’m not sure I can sleep. I’m not used to morning naps.”

  He grinned so widely his eyes crinkled. “Then have a bath. Snoop around, Sunny-girl. Open my drawers and find a shirt you like and wear it. Dig through my closet. Bake some biscuits. Whatever you want. Just relax.”

  I understood what he was telling me. His life was an open book, and I was to make myself comfortable in it.

  I snuggled into the cradling mattress with a contented sigh. Turning my head, I inhaled the scent of Linc on his pillow. Suddenly, I felt exhausted.

  “Maybe just a few moments,” I murmured, shutting my eyes.

  Linc pressed his lips to my forehead again, and I felt a soft blanket being drawn over me. I burrowed back under the warmth, the pull of sleep hitting me.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Linc promised.

  “M’kay,” I mumbled.

  I heard the sound of his camera phone, then his footsteps as he walked away. He paused at the door, his breathing the only sound in the room.

  “What a beautiful sight,” he muttered.

  I was asleep before he reached the main floor.

  18

  Linc

  Sunny was on my mind all morning. I kept glancing at the photo I took of her in my bed. Curled under the ivory blanket, her hair spilling across my pillow—a bright ribbon of color against the pale hue of the sheets. For the first time in years, my concentration was muddled. It wasn’t on the business in front of me. I wanted to be back at the house with Sunny. Lying beside her, feeling her soft skin on mine. I wanted to feel her under me, hear her calling my name as we rediscovered each other.

  Not sitting in an office listening as a bunch of power-hungry men tried to outdo one another.

  I cleared my throat. “Gentlemen, as much as I appreciate that you all have an opinion on this matter, the bottom line is, it is my decision. I thank you for your input, and I’ll send my determinations to you soon.” I glanced at my watch. “I have another meeting to attend, so excuse me. My assistant is off today, so you can show yourself out.”

  I strode from the boardroom straight into my office, shutting the door. At my desk, I watched as they filed from the office, all muttering and angry. I didn’t care. They wanted my financial backing; they could play by my rules.

  I picked up the phone and called Milo. He had sent a couple of messages while I was in the meeting, and unlike the men I dismissed, I was eager to hear what he had to say. He wasn’t the same sort of lawyer as Ned. He leaned more toward the darker side of the law and had a lot of contacts that came in handy on the rare occasion such as this. We had met at Toblacove and had stayed in touch once we both got out.

  “Linc,” he drawled by way of greeting me.

  “Milo. Tell me you have good news.”

  He chuckled, the sound low and dark. “It worked. I had him tailed to a bar, so he was already breaking parole. He was all over a young-looking girl in about five seconds. How the police got tipped to him violating his parole restrictions, I have no idea. Add in the drugs in his pocket? He’s back in jail, and he ain’t getting out for a long time.”

  “How did you get an underage girl into a bar?”

  “I never said she was underage. I said she was young-looking—the way he likes. She was twenty-one. And one hell of an actress. Everyone in the bar heard her telling him off and knew he was getting handsy without permission. She almost screamed the place down.”

  “So they have enough to hold him?”

  “His parole restrictions were no bars, no alcohol or drugs, and he was to keep a fifty-foot radius from women under the age of twenty-five. He broke all the rules in one fell swoop.”

  I tried not to laugh and failed. A gift of a bottle of rye delivered to Carl in the afternoon had ensured his bad decision-making. He liked the hard stuff, and being in jail would have made him thirsty for the taste. I had hoped it would set him back on the path to destruction, and I was pleased it had happened so quickly.

  “Her mother?”

  “I can’t locate her. I think she heard about Carl and went back into hiding. Hopefully, she left town, but I’ll keep checking. If she has nothing to hold over Abby, she knows there’s no point in bothering her. Keep Abby in Mission Cove for a while. I have someone watching her building in case her mother shows up.”

  “Good job. Pay everyone involved and send me the bill.”

  “Already done.”

  I hung up and rubbed my eyes. Abby was safe again. I wasn’t sure about her mother, but I knew Milo would keep a careful watch. She was easier to deal with than Carl. He was a nasty piece of work, and I didn’t want to chance him going after Abby. He shouldn’t have gotten parole, and while there was no doubt in my mind he would wind up back in prison sooner rather than later, I’d decided to help him along. I wasn’t sure how Abby would feel about my actions, or Sunny. I wondered about not telling them, simply informing Abby that I found out Carl was back in jail. I had a feeling, however, she wouldn’t buy it.

  I sat lost in my thoughts for a moment, then shook my head. I had better things to do right now than weighing the pros and cons of my actions.

  Abby was safe again, and to me, the ends justified the means.

  And besides, Sunny was waiting.

  I pulled into the garage, wondering if Sunny was still asleep in my bed. Part of me hoped she was. She worked too hard, and I wanted to spoil her today.

  But entering the house, I had my answer. All I could smell was biscuits. I found Sunny, not in my bed, but in the kitchen, wearing one of my dress shirts, the tails hanging down to her knees, and a pair of my heavy socks. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, her face free from makeup, and she looked adorable.

  She looked up as I came around the corner, her welcoming smile bright. I headed straight for her, catching her in my arms and lifting her off the ground. I crashed my mouth to hers and kissed her long, hard, and passionately. She plunged her hand into the hair at the nape of my neck, kissing me back with equal fervor. I eased back, dropping my face to her neck with a groan.

  “You have no idea what seeing you in my kitchen is doing to me right now.”

  She wrapped her legs around my waist, laughing low in her throat. “I think I can, um, feel your reaction.” She rubbed against me. “I think you’re happy to see me. Or your cell phone is in your pocket,” she deadpanned.

  “Baby, my cell phone doesn’t take up that sort of real estate.”

  She giggled, the sound lilting and strange in my house. I liked it. I was about to kiss her again when the timer on the oven went off and she pushed away.

  “Cockblocked by biscuits,” I muttered and set her on her feet.

  She pulled the tray from the oven, the scent wafting over. She brushed butter and honey over the tops, the glistening sweetness making me salivate. She carried a plate to the table and slid it in front of me, then sat down.

  “You have
no jam in the house, but there was honey, so you’ll have to settle for that.”

  “Okay. I think Mrs. Ellis got it in case I liked it in tea. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I never drink tea.”

  She leaned over and kissed me, her lips lingering on mine. “You’re a good man, Linc.”

  What happened earlier flitted thought my brain, and I frowned.

  “What?” she asked.

  I inhaled, then blew out a long breath and told her everything. Milo, what I asked him to do—what he had made sure happened.

  She was silent for a moment, crossing her legs, pumping one foot slowly.

  “You manipulated the situation.”

  “It was going to happen,” I insisted. “Sooner or later.”

  “But you made it happen now.”

  “Yes. Abby needed to be safe. I won’t apologize for that.”

  “I understand that, Linc, and I get where you’re coming from. But you need to be careful—this is a slippery slope you’re on.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, reaching for a biscuit and taking a bite of the warm, dense dough.

  “Your father did the same sort of thing.”

  I froze, narrowing my eyes at her, the biscuit now dust in my mouth. I swallowed and cleared my throat. “You think I’m like my father? I didn’t do it to hurt anyone or for any sort of gain. I wanted Abby safe.” I tapped the top of the wooden table, driving my point home. “He deserved what he got. I could have done far worse.”

  She bit her lip, sadness washing over her face. “That’s what frightens me, Linc.” She stood, walking toward the sink. Her shoulders were slumped, her posture defeated. I dropped the biscuit on my plate and followed her.