The door popped open, and about fifteen adults, six noisy kids, and too many dogs to count entered, and Cassie immediately addressed them.
“We’re having our guests with four-legged friends on the patio this morning,” she called brightly, then turned to Summer. “Good luck!”
Just as she disappeared, more people spilled in, laughing, talking, distracted, and hungry.
Moving on instinct, she slipped into first-day-of-school mode, which helped her handle the bedlam of new arrivals who all want what they want and they want it now. She counted out menus, handed them to the patrons, and welcomed them all to Santorini’s as she escorted them to the tables.
It didn’t take long before the restaurant was full and noisy, the line was to the door, and holy hell, the phone was ringing.
She tapped the screen and pressed it to her ear, secretly hoping to hear John’s voice.
“Santorini’s Deli, may I help you?”
For a moment, there was nothing but silence, then a man cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Santorini’s. I thought I was calling John.”
She frowned a little at the gruff voice and the something in the tone that had a weird demand to it. Could this be the secret shopper? She straightened a little and turned from the crowd to do her best to wow the guy.
“I’m sorry, sir, Mr. Santorini isn’t in the restaurant right now, but I can get a message to him as soon as possible. Can you tell me your name and number?” She slathered on the sweetness and professionalism, so hoping to help John land his financing.
“No. Damn it, Susan, he’s not there.” That last bit was a whisper she had a feeling she wasn’t supposed to hear.
“I can tell him you called,” Summer added. “He’ll be checking for messages any minute.” What else could she tell him that would impress the man? “He’s at one of our other locations, and I can call him there if you like?”
The man grunted a little. “Your other locations?”
Shoot! Was she not supposed to say that? Did John’s investor not know there were more Santorini’s Delis? He had to, but—
“Excuse me, miss? Can you tell me if my name’s been called?”
She spun around and gasped a little, coming face-to-face with Agnes Santorini. “Yiayia,” she whispered with a little bit of shock.
“Oh, don’t let me mess up the to-go order,” she said as she realized Summer was on the phone. “Things seem to be running smoothly enough.”
She held up her hand and returned to the far more important call, who might be John’s investor.
“Can I get your name, sir? I promise he’ll call you shortly.”
“Shipley,” he said, mumbling the word. But it came through loud and clear to Summer.
“Travis?” She breathed the name.
“What the hell did you say?” he demanded.
“Oh, nothing. I’m taking names at the front.” Heat curled through her, the pressure and confusion of the moment nearly buckling her knees. “Shipley, you said?”
“Yes, George Shipley. The man who owns the building you’re standing in. I need to talk to John as soon as possible.”
“Okay, I’ll tell him. I assume he has your number?”
“Yes. Tell him to use it, please.”
With that, he hung up, and she stood stone-still with the phone at her ear.
George Shipley. Travis’s father. The very connection she’d wanted from the minute she walked into this restaurant. And now she was working here, making friends, and…kissing the man who owned the place.
How would he feel when she told him the real reason for coming to Bitter Bark had been to reconnect with Travis Shipley, a man who shared a complicated past with her? How would he feel, this man who’d already asked his sister to warn Summer away from the flirtatious cook?
Guilt flashed like white lights in her head. She had to tell him, and soon. There’d be no more kissing until he knew the truth.
And if that wasn’t incentive, she didn’t know what was.
“Excuse me, my table?”
She lowered the phone and turned her attention back to Yiayia. The older woman had a playful smile in her eyes, and Summer knew she was busting her chops, as her big brother, Kenny, used to say.
But it was just one more reminder that she couldn’t hurt John Santorini, or there would be hell to pay.
Chapter Ten
The sun was low over the mountains by the time John got home after a long day in Chestnut Creek. The rolling purple horizon faded into a peach sunset, highlighting two silhouettes on the lawn at the bottom of the hillside driveway. No, three, if you counted Mav, who was running between a slender girl and a shapely woman, chasing what looked like a beach ball they were tossing back and forth.
For a moment, before his 4Runner tires hit the driveway and stole their attention, he slowed at the top of the hill, watching the vignette unfold in his yard. Summer kicked the ball lightly, which made Mav bark and run after it, and Destiny scooped it up in her tiny arms, raising it in victory with a giggle that floated through his open window.
But the giggle faded, her shoulders dropped, and she skulked back to Summer with something that almost seemed like sadness in her body language. Her mother, of course, put an arm around her. Was something wrong?
A little surprised at just how much that jolted him, he turned into the drive, making them both look up and wave. And another jolt hit him, this time down to his toes.
What would it be like to come home to that every night?
Wheels started cranking in his head, reasons why that would never happen, how thinking about it made no sense, and the only logical thing to do was not get attached to this woman and her child.
There he went again. Thinking instead of feeling.
Okay, so how would it feel to come home to that every night?
As he got closer to the lawn, Summer broke away and walked toward the drive, her long bare legs a treat to watch, her woman’s body moving with a mix of elegance and sexiness, a gorgeous smile widening with each step.
It would feel great.
“Hey there,” he called as he parked and climbed out. “I heard you killed it at Santorini’s today.”
Summer brushed back hair that had escaped from her ponytail. “Who said it?” she asked. “Cassie or Yiayia?”
“Bash. Your new biggest fan.”
She waved her hand as if she couldn’t care less about the Aussie cook, thank God. “I’m only interested in the Santorini powers that be. Cassie said it went well, and Yiayia said I didn’t suck, which I believe is probably a Bminus.”
“It’s a solid A.”
And so was she. He let his gaze coast over her, taking his time to appreciate the freckled freshness of her face, and the barely there light sheen of perspiration on her collarbones, and the way that white tank top clung to her body. “Looks like you’re playing as hard as you worked.”
She laughed and turned toward Destiny, who was kicking the ball and trying to get Mav to run with her to get it.
“We’re attempting a game to give her some confidence.”
“Confidence?” He frowned. “Did she have a problem at camp?”
“No, she loved it, all but one thing. Come on, I’ll let her tell you.”
He paused and gestured toward the car. “I brought a ton of stuff from the restaurant in Chestnut Creek, if you guys haven’t had dinner yet. Lots of that plain chicken Destiny likes. Or have you had your last bite of Greek food?”
She beamed up at him. “Wow, that was so thoughtful. She had a snack after camp, and I figured we’d run out and get something for dinner. And yes, I’d love more Greek food, thank you.”
He tried to look away, to head over to Destiny, even to greet Mav—who’d yet to notice he’d arrived—but he took one more second to soak in the sight of Summer in the late afternoon sun, her hair messy, her eyes soft with a little exhaustion and maybe happiness.
“So, do you like your new job?” he asked after a beat.
“Very much,” she replied without hesitation, her gaze just as intent on him. “I missed the boss, though,” she added softly, as if the admission was hard to make.
“You…” He tapped her nose just to give in to the urge to touch even one centimeter of her skin. “Asked for time and space.”
“Is that why you were gone for two whole days?”
“I had family things yesterday and staff meetings today. I’m yours tomorrow. And…tonight.”
She flushed slightly at that. “Cassie said you flew with Aidan.”
“I did. Two more hours and four total landings, not one of which was less than perfect, I might add. I’m eight hours closer to being able to do my solo hours, then test out for my license.” He paused a moment, getting slightly closer. “Will you fly with a rookie like me when I do?”
She thought about it for a moment. “You know, I’m not the best flier, but I would with you.”
“A very high compliment, thank you.” He put a light hand on her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go hear about camp and see if my dog remembers who loved him first.”
“Good luck with that. I don’t think they’ve been more than five feet apart all day.” She walked with him across the grass. “Remember, being ‘camp buddies’ was your idea.”
Laughing, he rounded the fire pit to go out to where Des was sitting on an exercise ball, bouncing up and down.
“So how was day one at Tails and Trails, kiddo?”
Mav reacted first, barking and running in a quick circle at the sight and sound of John, then scampering toward him. John crouched down to give the pup some love, keeping his eye on Destiny as he waited for her to answer.
She slowed her bounce a little, making her insane curls look like they were moving in slow motion. She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again, nodding. He’d been around her enough to know that’s what she did when she didn’t trust herself not to stutter.
“Make some new friends?” he asked, helping her out.
She nodded again, reminding him not to stick with yes-or-no questions.
“How did Mav do?” He turned the puppy on his back for a belly rub. “Did you have fun, little dude?” he whispered playfully to the dog.
“He s-s-sat.” She slipped off the ball and took a step closer. “For a t-t-t-treat.”
“Really?” John plopped on his backside and scooped the dog up. “You sat like a big dog, Maverick?” He brought the puppy up to his face. “Good boy!”
Des looked up at Summer. “Did you tell him, Mommy?” she whispered.
“No, I didn’t tell him anything.”
John looked from one to the other, curious. Also amazed at how much beauty God managed to pack into two so different creatures. Two different creatures who seemed just a little…not happy. “Was there a problem at camp?” he asked.
“Most of it was wonderful, right, Des?”
She nodded, hard and enthusiastic. “We played games,” she said softly. “And…and…and…ate chicken fingers.”
“Good stuff, yeah. What else?”
“T-t-trained dogs to sit.”
“Did Shane handle that part?” he asked, aching to make her so comfortable she could talk without a struggle. “He’s the best dog trainer.”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “He’s f-f-funny.”
“Very,” he agreed. “What else did you do?”
She glanced up at her mother again, then down to the ground. “They p-p-played s-s-soft…”
“Softball?” he suggested.
She looked up. “I couldn’t play,” she whispered, a little crack in her voice.
“Why not?”
She gave a pleading face to her mother, as if whatever she had to say was just too much.
Summer dropped down on the grass next to John, reaching for Destiny’s hand to fold the little girl on her lap. “She had a problem,” Summer said, stroking her daughter’s hair but looking at John. “With the ball.”
“The ball?”
Summer’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t like it,” she said.
“Oh. Well, you don’t have to play, right? I think they do two activities at once so you can pick something else.”
“You didn’t tell me that, Des,” Summer said. “What’s the other activity?”
“Singing,” she said softly. “Or crafts.”
“Well, you love to sing,” John said. “I’ve heard you. You’re an amazing singer.”
She looked up at him, a dark cloud in her evocative hazel eyes. “Not always,” she said. “Sometimes I st-st-st…” She swallowed. “I can’t.”
His heart folded in half. “But with Mav?” he asked. “He sings, too.”
“It’s during dog nap time. Mav has to take a lot of naps because he’s so small.”
“Then how about crafts?” John asked. “Is that like coloring?” He was woefully out of it where kids’ activities were concerned.
Destiny made a face.
Summer stroked her hair some more. “She’s not really a craft girl,” she said. “Never liked art projects, can’t stand Play-Doh, and tried to eat her crayons.”
John squished his face, making Destiny giggle. “Were they good?”
“Pink was,” she said with a sly smile.
“Got your mother’s wit, eh?” he teased, giving Summer’s arm a slight nudge. “Okay, then that leaves softball, which would be my first choice. What’s the deal? You didn’t want to play that, either?”
“I did,” she breathed with pure longing in her voice. “But I…I don’t like the b-b-ball. It’s scary.”
“The ball coming at her,” Summer explained. “They lined up and played catch, and even with the little kids, she has this…fear, I guess, that the ball’s going to hit her.”
“Oh, I know that feeling,” he said, absently touching his glasses. “Even when I wore sports goggles to correct my sight, I always had that low-key expectation that the ball would hit me in the face.”
“I hoped you’d understand,” Summer said. “I remember you said you were a catcher. You know about stuff like this.”
“Fear of being hit with the ball? So real,” he assured her. “Even in softball. Even with that ball.” He pointed at the exercise ball. “Though it wouldn’t hurt as much.”
“I had that in the back of my SUV,” Summer said. “We decided to try and practice with it, to get her used to catching a ball. But…”
“It’s different,” he said, leaning a little closer to Destiny. “I might be able to help you. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to catch a ball.”
“Pretty sure you know more than that,” Summer said.
“Yeah. Calculus. But I know there won’t be any of that at camp, thank God. I’ll help you with catching the ball.”
Destiny looked at him. “How?”
“Well, you build up to it. First, I’ll roll the ball to you and teach you how to scoop it up. Then we’ll move to a toss. Very slowly.”
She stared at him, considering that.
“Or you can make bracelets,” Summer said.
She curled her lip. “I’ll try, John,” she whispered, the sweet voice practically tearing his heart out.
“Gimme a few minutes.” He pushed up. “I have to dig up some old gear from the loft in the garage and change. And get a Gatorade. Because all ballplayers drink Gatorade.” He winked at Des. “You do want to be a ballplayer, right?”
She broke into a slow smile. “Yeah.”
As he stood, he put a hand on Summer’s shoulder. “You okay if I teach her a few tricks?”
“Of course.” Her blue eyes were full of warm affection. “I was hoping you would.”
He gave her shoulder a soft squeeze and headed inside to change into shorts and a T-shirt, the whole time mentally going through the sports equipment he’d been dragging around with him his whole life.
In a few minutes, he’d climbed to the garage loft and started popping open big plastic containers full of helmets, mitts, bats, balls, and c
atcher’s masks. He abandoned one, then pushed a few boxes aside with his focus on a small container in the back.
His mother had kindly kept this in their attic at home until she moved into a condo when Dad died. All the Santorini kids had their shot at the belongings in the attic. Nick had taken nothing—probably because his life had him in all kinds of foreign places, and neither had Alex, who instead wanted all Dad’s kitchen equipment. Theo and Cassie had been selective and parted with a lot of their stuff.
But John had kept all of his trophies, his sporting equipment, and even his uniforms. He lifted a small mitt, nodding with the success of finding it. It might be a little big for Destiny, but it would work. And then he found exactly what he’d been looking for—a junior-sized catcher’s mask that had been his first when he took the position in Little League.
Not very many guys wanted to be the catcher. First of all, one mistake and you could blow the whole game. Not to mention it hurt like a mother to crouch back there for long innings. But his coach had told him he had to do it because a catcher also had to anticipate every single possible play and be three steps ahead of the other players. That actually appealed to John more than the possibility of hitting a home run or stealing a base.
He gathered up the gear, tossed it to the garage floor, and climbed down the ladder with a deep sense of satisfaction growing. Destiny could really use this. Sports had given this four-eyed brainiac real confidence in life, and she could use a little of that.
“Okay, you ready to catch, Des?” he called as he jogged back outside. “Oh darn. I forgot the Gatorade.”
“I’ll get it,” Summer said. “And while you play, I’ll set up dinner on your patio table, if that’s okay.”
“Perfect.” As he passed her, he leaned in a little closer to whisper, “Have you had enough air, space, and time yet?”
She slowed her step and nibbled on her lower lip, looking so directly into his eyes that he could feel the heat of her gaze through his whole body. “Maybe.”
“Good. ’Cause I want to talk to you later.”
She didn’t answer at first, but breathed out a slow sigh. “Yes, good. I have to talk to you, too.”
Hush, Puppy Page 12
