The Summer of Us (Mission Cove Book 1)

by Melanie Moreland

  “No shame,” I disagreed. “I’m going to make love to my fiancée until she screams my name. I’m going to be plenty proud of that fact.” I unfastened my trousers, pushing them off my legs.

  “Your shirt,” she insisted.

  I tugged it over my head and stood before her, my chest heaving in anticipation. She tilted her head and gave a tug.

  That dress, that damn sexy, teasing slip of a dress, dropped to the ground, leaving Sunny bare to my eyes except for the tiny wisp of lace between her legs.

  That was going to be easily taken care of, and I didn’t plan on it being there very long.

  She opened her arms, and I went willingly.

  Once she was in my embrace, the hot roar of lust dissipated, and all I wanted was to do exactly what I said—make love to her. She was mine—now and forever. Nothing would separate us again.

  I wouldn’t allow it.

  We sank into the thick blankets and pillows I had brought here earlier, thinking we would cuddle on them after celebrating.

  Instead, I lost myself to the moment. To her softness. I whispered words of love, of forever, of adoration into her ear. I kissed her as if we hadn’t kissed for eons. I worshiped every inch of her, using my hands, my mouth, and my words to keep her lost with me.

  She pulled on my shoulders, her voice pleading. “Linc, please. Oh please, my love.”

  I want her to call me that for the rest of my life. I settled between her thighs, slipping inside her heat, groaning.

  “Sunny,” I vowed. “I have you. I will always have you.”

  We moved together slowly, nothing fast or frenzied. We savored the moment, the touches, the feelings. Our bodies never separated. I rolled into her, meeting her movements in perfect synchronization. Our lips fused, our oxygen shared, neither of us needing anything more. Her hair tumbled down her back, and I fisted the soft waves, clutching at her. She buried her fingers in my hair, tugging at the strands. I felt the cold metal of her ring on my skin as I moved within her. Our eyes were open, our hearts and souls sharing the depth of the moment and the love we were finally able to live.

  My climax hit me like a long, lazy wave. I increased my grip on Sunny. “Baby, come with me. Come with me,” I begged as I fell. She tightened around me, riding out her own pleasure as we lived the moment. I collapsed in her arms, tugging the blanket around us, not wanting her chilled.

  We lay in silence, listening to the sound of the water lapping at the shore. The night was dark, the only glow from the twinkling lights at the ceiling.

  “We can listen to this every night,” Sunny whispered. “Us and the sound of the waves.”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll build a life here, Linc.”

  I held her tighter. “Yes.”

  Her heart rate slowed, and my thundering pulse became steady. I raised myself up on my elbow, looking down at her. Her hair was a mess, a bright swath of color on the dark pillows. Her lips were swollen, her neck scratched. She looked thoroughly loved—and satisfied.

  I brushed my mouth across hers. “You want to head back?”

  “No, I’m not ready.”

  “Okay. Dessert and champagne?”

  “That sounds decadent.”

  “I promise you lots of decadence, Sunny.”

  I pushed up to my feet, looming over her. She waggled her eyebrows playfully. “Does that include lots of this?”

  I pulled her to her feet, encasing her in my arms. “Yes.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  We dressed, and I helped her tie those silly, tempting little bows. I draped my coat around her shoulders since the air was becoming chillier.

  I lifted the cover on the crème brûlées—another one of her favorites. She clapped her hands when I popped the cork, and we clinked glasses, sipping the cold, bubbly liquid.

  “Can we come back? While the house is being built?”

  “Anytime.”

  “How long will it take?”

  I grinned at her with a wink. “The company I hired promised double crews. A lot of it is done off site and brought here. It will be ready by Christmas.”

  “Really?”

  “Money talks, and this time, I’m using it for personal reasons. I want to share our first Christmas together in our new home. The work they do is amazing—their technology top-notch. They’re also doing the community center. I’m their number one customer right now.”

  “Wow.”

  “Until then, you can come back anytime.” I winked at her. “You can drive your new SUV.”

  “I love my little truck.”

  I gave up. She could call it anything she wanted.

  Silence fell, her eyelids drooped, and I stood. “Let me take you home, baby.”

  She let me pull her from the chair. “My trees,” she insisted. “You said you’d show me my trees.”

  I didn’t argue. Using the light on my phone, we walked across the dirt and ducked under the long branches.

  I aimed the light toward the bottom. Dirty and worn, it was still there. I pointed out her name and the year I had carved it in. Then I showed her the same on the other tree, my name and date still embedded in the trunk.

  “When we get married, I’ll add our last name on both and a new date.” I stood and brushed off my pants.

  She slipped her arm around my waist. “Who knew that summer, that summer of us, would become—this.”

  I traced her mouth with my finger. “What is this, Sunny?”

  “A lifetime of love.”

  I had to kiss her.

  She was right.

  Epilogue

  Linc

  Pearson Airport, as usual, was crowded. I waited by the glass doors, cart at the ready for Emily and Hayley’s plane to land. I’d volunteered to pick them up. It would give us some time to catch up with one another, and I knew Sunny already had a lot on her plate. She was in Mission Cove, preparing for their arrival, working at the bakery, and overseeing the details of our wedding.

  I grinned to myself thinking the words.

  Our wedding.

  In less than seventy-two hours, Sunny would be my wife. My body hummed in anticipation. Sunny Webber. Lincoln and Sunny Webber.

  I chuckled out loud. My mind was channeling a teenage girl it seemed, writing our names with a flourish on a small notepad.

  Shouts of my name drew my attention, and I glanced to the left just as two bodies collided with mine. I hugged the two women close, smiling at their enthusiasm. When Sunny had told them I was back, they had been skeptical and cautious. We had spoken several times since that first call, and I enjoyed their funny texts, feeling as if they were including me in their lives now. When I called to tell them I wanted to marry their sister, they had been enthusiastic. When Sunny informed them we were moving ahead with our plans, the squeals had been loud coming through the speaker of my phone.

  I stepped back, looking at Sunny’s sisters. The last time I had seen them in person, they were still kids, and now they were all grown up. FaceTime wasn’t the same as seeing them in front of me. Emily was twenty-two, and Hayley was twenty. They were both small like Sunny, had the same dark eyes, but Hayley’s hair was more auburn and curlier, while Emily’s long, straight hair was brown. They were pretty, excited, and as happy to see me as I was to see them.

  We got their luggage, both of them chatting away as we headed to the car.

  “We’ve never flown first-class before,” Hayley gushed. “What fun!”

  Emily was more subdued, but her eyes danced as she nudged me with her elbow. “It was. Thanks, Linc.”

  “Stick with me, kid.”

  We got to the car, and I loaded in the luggage and we headed to Mission Cove.

  “Is Sunny okay?” Emily asked.

  “She’s good. We’re keeping things pretty simple. Vows, dinner, some nice music. Only very close friends and family.”

  “Why a Tuesday evening? Why not the weekend?”

  I chuckled. “The bakery is busy on the weeken
ds. Tuesday and Wednesday are the quiet days. We get married Tuesday, I get to take her away overnight, and she plans on being back in the bakery Thursday in time to prepare for the weekend rush.”

  Hayley glanced up, shocked, from her phone. I met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “No honeymoon?”

  “In the fall.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know how crazy the bakery is right now, and I don’t want her stressed out. All I care about is marrying her. I don’t care if I’m standing beside her on Saturday morning making coffee for customers or if we’re staring at some ruins in England. As long as she’s my wife and with me, I’m good.”

  “You make the coffee?”

  “I make damn good coffee. I’ve even got those leaf things down pat.”

  Hayley shook her head, going back to her phone. Emily stared at me. “You’re a good guy, Linc.”

  I squeezed her hand. “Thanks.”

  I paced the floor, anxious and uptight. Abby walked into the room, and I paused. “Wow.”

  She laughed, patting her hair. “I know. I’m rocking it.”

  Abby and Gerry were my attendants. Abby insisted on wearing a tuxedo, and she was, indeed, rocking it. Her hair was swept up, the pink streak bright against the blond. Her blouse was a pale pink, and her cummerbund and bow tie matched her hair. She was quite adorable.

  Gerry and I were in more traditional colors, the cummerbund and ties in a soft green that Sunny had picked out. Our tuxes were all in a dove gray, keeping to the light colors Sunny preferred.

  Gerry looked at his phone and smiled. “The girls are good. Your bride is quite anxious for this to start.”

  Sunny and her sisters were at her apartment, Cindy with them, making sure all was on schedule, and the limo would pick them up and bring them here. Sunny would wait in the small tent I had installed for her, and we would meet at the pretty trellis set up between our trees. Gerry offered Abby and me the use of his house so Sunny didn’t have to worry I would see her beforehand.

  Our gathering was small—fewer than twenty people, but it was what we wanted. Most of the town knew we were getting married and offered up congratulations and even dropped off small gifts at the bakery but allowed us our privacy.

  Once we said our vows, we would have pictures taken, return to the enclosed tent for dinner, and after, there would be dancing. I didn’t plan on staying around long once the dancing started. Abby would make sure the party continued without us. I was going to whisk Sunny away. I had a penthouse suite waiting in Toronto, and I didn’t plan on leaving it until we returned to Mission Cove.

  But I needed to make her my wife first.

  I hadn’t seen her since yesterday. She insisted it was romantic and would add to our wedding night. As it was, I hadn’t been able to do much more than sneak in a kiss or two since her sisters arrived. They were staying in her apartment, so I went back next door to Abby’s. Sunny and I barely had a moment alone and I was slowly going crazy. When she reminded me of the tradition yesterday morning when I went to get my coffee, I wasn’t pleased. It seemed silly since we’d basically lived together for weeks, but the pleading look on her face forced me to smile and agree.

  I kissed her and returned to my office. Abby worked for a while, then announced she was going back to the bakery. I tried not to be jealous of the fact that Abby still got to see her, but I failed. Sulking, I worked for a while, not looking up when the door opened.

  “Forget something, Abby?” I asked.

  “Not really.”

  I snapped up my head at the sound of Sunny’s voice. “Aren’t we breaking tradition?” I asked, then kicked myself for bringing it up.

  “You looked so sad when you left, and I realized you had forgotten when we talked about it a few days before.”

  I sighed. “I was probably so busy trying to get you somewhere alone so I could kiss you, I would have agreed to anything.”

  “You have me alone now.”

  I held out my hand. “Get over here.”

  She placed a bag on my desk, and I didn’t have to ask what was inside. It would be biscuits and jam to drown my sorrows in after she left.

  But for now, she was here, sliding on my lap, smiling at me.

  I took full advantage.

  I grinned at the memory, then glanced at my watch. “We should head down, right? The photographer wants some pictures, and I need to be out of the way before Sunny arrives.”

  Gerry chuckled. “Anxious, kid?”

  “You have no idea.”

  He smirked. “I think I do.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “You deserve this. You really do. Now let’s go get some pictures taken and get this show on the road.”

  “Hell yes.”

  The sun was still bright, shining on the rippling water behind me. A light breeze blew, lifting the long tendrils of the weeping willows I stood between as I waited for Sunny. Beside me stood Abby and Gerry. Across the flower-strewn aisle were Emily and Hayley, both dressed in soft green. Cindy sat in the seat of honor—adoptive mother of the groom and bride. She dabbed at her eyes constantly, blinking even harder when I winked at her.

  My anxiety was gone. All I felt was the rightness of this moment. Knowing Sunny was close, and soon, we would say the words and she would be mine—to have and hold for as long as we lived.

  My breath caught as she appeared, walking toward me. She didn’t rush, and I took a moment to drink her in. Her beautiful hair was swept up, tendrils framing her face and brushing her neck. Her dress was simple—something she’d bought on a day trip into Toronto. Ivory, lacy, and delicate. It floated around her like a feather, and as she grew closer, I had to smile.

  There were bows at her shoulders, holding up scallops of lacy froth on her arms. Tiny, elegant bows that beckoned and teased. Exactly what she had planned.

  Little minx.

  I met her dark gaze, the love and happiness shining in her eyes for all to see. Unable to stop myself, I stepped forward, meeting her partway down the aisle.

  She beamed as I held out my hand. “Walk with me, Sunny?”

  Her grip was tight. “Always.”

  I tucked her hand over my arm, and we finished the walk together.

  The perfect start to our life together.

  A few months later

  I woke, my hand instantly reaching out for Sunny. Even after being together and married for months, my first reaction in the morning was to make sure she was real.

  This morning, the bed was empty, although the sheets were still warm. I sat up, looking at the clock in the unfamiliar room. It was barely past five, dawn breaking outside the windows.

  Sunny stood on the small balcony of our honeymoon suite, staring at the view. I had no idea why she was awake. We arrived yesterday in England and spent the day touring to ward off jet lag. Then as tradition, I spent most of the night making love to her since it was technically the first night of our honeymoon, and that was how it should be.

  She should be exhausted and curled up beside me, not outside looking at the view.

  Still, I took a moment to appreciate the beautiful view of my own. Wrapped in a sheet, her profile illuminated by the rising sun, she was stunning. Her hair was bright and burnished in the morning light, her creamy skin glowing. My morning wood hardened even more at the sight before me. She grew exponentially more lovely to me every day that passed. I fell more in love with my wife with each new discovery of her sweet nature. Her caring ways, her gentleness, her teasing. She taught me to find joy in the simplest of things; she gave me the gift of peace—something I had never experienced until now.

  And she was, in my opinion, too far away from me at the moment.

  I slid from the bed, silently walking up behind her. I wrapped my arms around her, drawing her back to my chest. I dropped my head to her neck, scattering small kisses on her skin.

  She nestled into me, fitting against me perfectly. “Hi.”

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “Just looking.
Watching the city come to life.” She tilted up her head. “There is so much I want to do and see!”

  “And you’ll get to see and do it all. I promise.”

  She sighed. “I know.”

  “Come back to bed,” I murmured in her ear, flicking my tongue over the sensitive lobe.

  “In a minute. I want to watch the sun rise over the Thames.”

  “Fine.” I rolled my hips into her. “Then I’ll show you something else rising over the Thames.”

  She gasped, then she giggled.

  “I love my honeymoon.”

  I tightened my arms around her. “I love you.”

  Two years later

  I pulled up to the house, the sight of it never failing to put a smile on my lips. I parked the car and went into the house, not surprised to find it empty. I knew I would find my wife in one of two places—by the water or by her trees.

  I stopped in the kitchen and shrugged off my suit jacket, draping it over a chair. The sun glinted off the water in the pool in the backyard. It was still and serene-looking, but I knew this weekend, as usual, it would be full, with lots of people laughing and splashing.

  I walked through the family room, the inviting colors soothing and welcoming. Sunny had decorated the entire house with a beachy, warm vibe. Lots of blues and greens with ivory and gray undertones. Comfortable, well-used furniture. Fireplaces, both inside and out, that were used year-round since she loved to watch the flames dance. Lots of pictures were scattered around—of us, our family and friends. Memories of our life together. She had all my mother’s paintings on the walls, even a few we had found in secondhand shops. Each one we recovered was a treasure for me. Mementos of our travels were sprinkled throughout the house. A print from London, a sculpture from Greece, a thick tartan blanket from Scotland. All of the additions made the place eclectic, warm—and us.

  She made the house a home.

  I walked out of the open doors, spying Sunny under her tree. I made my way over, studying her as I went. Sitting on a blanket, she rested against the trunk of the tree, her legs outstretched. She faced the water, the light breeze lifting her hair. I knew she had been to the bakery today. I had watched her come and go, resisting the urge to go find her and kiss her in the storeroom. Now that she only went in on occasion, I didn’t see her as much in the daytime, and I found myself missing her.