“To solo or to fling?”
Both. “To take someone up.”
“Sure, the rest of our time in this plane is just for the books and the North Carolina FAA regs, man. You’re ready to solo, for sure.” Aidan took his headset off, too, and sharpened his gaze. “And you’re also ready for anything else with her. What’s stopping you?”
“I’m not sure anything is anymore,” he said honestly. “I mean, other than a kid at home.”
“Bring her to Uncle Aidan and Aunt Beck. We’ll babysit. Hell, anyone in the family would. We all like Sunshine, and the bets are running high.”
“There’s betting?”
“Have you met the Kilcannons and Mahoneys? It’s all friendly. No real money will exchange hands, believe me. But once those two old ladies start matchmaking, you know the wagering starts. How long it will take? Will it happen?”
“How long will what take?” He sure as hell hoped his siblings and stepcousins weren’t betting on his sex life, although he recalled some pretty damn funny verbal wages when Alex was falling hard for Grace. Funny when it was someone else’s personal life they were betting on.
Aidan got a call from Beck, so his question didn’t get answered. And it was forgotten by the time they finished the final check and parted ways.
Not an hour later, John climbed out of his SUV, not even aware he was whistling until a voice from the upstairs deck floated down.
“Please. If I hear that song one more time, I might cry.”
He’d been whistling… “You Are My Sunshine.”
Stepping back so he could see up to the deck, he grinned. “How’s the practicing going?”
Summer leaned over the railing, her long hair tumbling over bare shoulders revealed by a tube-top thing that looked like it would be incredibly easy to take off. “She’s napping. With the microphone in one hand and Mav in the other. How’d the flying go?”
“Flawless. Five more hours with Aidan, and I can start my solos.”
She raised a victorious fist. “We need to celebrate tonight.”
And he could think of so many ways to do that. “Whaddya have in mind?”
She bit her lip and leaned farther over the railing to whisper, “I feel the need. The need for…”
“Excellent choice for movie night. After dinner, when Des is asleep. I was thinking of cooking out tonight. Can the ladies of the upstairs join me?”
“We’d be honored. I already made a salad and baked some cookies.”
“I have burgers and wine. And lemonade for the under-sixers.”
She gave him a thumbs-up. “It’s a date. We’ll be down after she wakes up. I promised her we’d have a concert before dinner, though.” Turning her hand, she pointed an accusatory index finger at him. “You created a monster.”
He laughed. “I’m glad she likes it. How was Mav?”
“Attached.” She angled her head, making a face. “Breaking up is going to be hard to do, honey.”
No kidding, honey. “I know,” he said simply. “We’re going to have to put on a full-court press. Maybe we’ll get lucky at Waterford tomorrow when Alex and Grace bring ‘Mav in eight months.’ She might change her mind.”
“I think Mav could grow into a kangaroo, and she wouldn’t change her mind. We’ve enabled this relationship, you know.”
He shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. There has to be a solution.” Like, Des and Summer never leave Bitter Bark.
He knew he had to get that idea out of his head, but it lingered through the afternoon while he did a little paperwork for the restaurant, and while he showered, and was still howling for his attention when he walked through his sliding glass doors to start the barbecue and…heard something else howling.
Was that Mav?
He rushed outside and followed the sound up the steps to the upstairs deck. At the top, he just had to stop and stare. And blink. And stare some more.
In the middle of the deck, Destiny stood on the wooden coffee table that used to be in the living room. She wore a pink…thing. A cloud of netting like a tutu that went to her feet, an actual crown on her head, and glitter all over…everywhere. Next to her—also on the coffee table—Mav sat kind of still, as if the yellow dress and straw hat he wore kept him paralyzed with fear or shock or both.
Was that lipstick on him?
She was mid-song, but not any lyrics he knew, except for the “You are my Mavvie” chorus. While she sang, Destiny looked down at Mav, and when she hit a high note, she signaled him with one finger, and he lifted his head to howl with her.
“Wow,” he whispered at the very moment she took a breath, making Destiny’s eyes pop open. Summer, who was sitting with her back to him, whipped around, hitting the pause button on the karaoke machine. Then Mav leaped off the coffee table and came bounding over to him.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, bending down to scoop up the puppy he saw very little of lately.
“I didn’t know you were there,” Destiny said, a little accusation in her voice.
“I’m sorry, Des. I loved it. And you, doggo.” He gave Mav a little nuzzle. “Except for the lipstick.”
“I wanted him to be pretty,” Destiny said.
“He is…that.” And so were they, mother and daughter bathed in the late afternoon light, one more beautiful than the other. “Can I hear you sing again, Des?”
She didn’t say anything, and Summer stood, taking his breath away in a sundress with skinny straps that tied into tiny bows on her shoulders, the material gauzy enough that he could almost see through the flowy skirt.
“She doesn’t like to perform in front of people,” Summer said in a rare display of stepping in and speaking for Destiny.
“No problem.” He held up a hand. “What time do you guys want to eat?”
“You can listen.” He barely would have heard Destiny’s whisper, except she said it into her pink microphone.
“I can?”
She nodded. And might as well have said, I trust you with my life, nice man, since John’s chest felt like it would split wide open so his heart could tumble to the floor.
“Really? Okay. Thanks. I…” He put Mav down and wasn’t the least bit surprised when he trotted back to Destiny, who lifted him back onto his place on the coffee table. “I won’t say a word. I’ll just be back here.”
“Come here.” Summer reached for his hand, pulling him to the chaise where she sat, operating the little Barbie box.
He smiled at her, almost used to the impact her scent and hair and voice and entire being had on him. Almost.
“You’re going to love this,” she whispered in his ear when he settled next to her.
Yeah. He maybe already did. “Can’t wait.”
“Okay, Des,” she said. “Positions. Three, two, one…” She hit play, and Des started to sing without missing a beat. Just as on cue, Mav howled.
They listened to the new version of an old classic about a dog named Mavvie and his…destiny. One sang like a trained professional, and the other like, well, a dog.
Oh man. He did love this. This woman, this moment, this silly music and precious girl and his lipstick-covered puppy. He glanced at Summer and caught her at the very moment she looked at him, seeing that same light in her eyes he’d seen that very first day in the square when they’d looked at each other over their shoulders.
For a few glorious notes, they held each other’s gaze.
Funny, John had thought nothing could beat the thrill of flying. But that feeling paled in comparison to this. Every feeling he’d ever had was forgotten right then as something new and wild and illogical and wonderful took hold.
“It is our destiny!” Destiny finished with great fanfare, making Summer laugh and clap and John just sit, speechless.
“You just figured it out, huh?” Summer whispered.
Why lie? He was gone over her. “Kind of, yeah.”
She gave him a playful poke. “The whole song is about taking Mav from you, John,” she said on
a laugh. “The whole dang song. We’re in so much trouble.”
So much. “We sure are.”
* * *
Summer tiptoed down the stairs, giving in to an unexpected shiver of anticipation for their movie date night. Inside John’s apartment, she glanced around, and when she didn’t see him, she followed the scent of popcorn down the hall to a cozy media room. When she walked through the doorway, she caught him standing in front of a large flat-screen TV, remote in hand, setting up the movie.
She paused for a moment, adjusting the glasses she liked to wear after a long day of contacts, taking a second to admire everything about the back of him. Broad shoulders, strong muscles, a narrow waist, and a tight backside that looked particularly good in cotton sweats. He looked sexy and comfortable and like someone she could curl up against all night.
She started to say something, but caught herself, still enjoying the beautifully simple moment—a man with his remote, the lingering scent of his barbecue still on him, the dark room, the child asleep upstairs.
She’d had so few nights like this with Isaiah, she thought fleetingly. So few normal “family moments” that let her relax and rely a little on the man of the house. So few times they hadn’t been fighting after Destiny was born, too few hours of something so simple and natural as a movie date night in the house. And being a single mother was hard, and lonely. Nights like this were rare.
A soft rumble came from the baby monitor, making John turn around. “Was that Mav?”
She held up the small white box. “He’s snoring. They’re both sound asleep.”
“You travel with a monitor?”
“When I go to Raven’s house, Destiny sleeps in a tiny room on the third floor. She loves it because it’s like a dollhouse, but I don’t like not being able to hear her at night.” She set the monitor on an end table next to a bowl of popcorn, a bottle of red wine, and two glasses. “This way, we can enjoy the movie and not have to keep checking on them.”
“Them.” He gave a wry smile and gestured to the only seat in the room, a long, deep, leather sofa with a comfy ottoman in front of it. “They sure are a pair, those two. Destiny has replaced me as his human.”
“Oh, John.” She sighed as she dropped onto the sofa. “I knew this was going to happen. We have to find another dog for her.”
“Or me.”
She shook her head. “Don’t give up your dog for her. Mav’s related to your brother’s dogs. He’s family. You can’t do that.”
“I know, and they’ll be at Waterford tomorrow, in their full-sized glory. I truly believe it’ll be a bit of a shock to her to see how big he’s going to get. He’s not going to sleep in her bed in seven months.”
“He’s not going to sleep in her bed in seven months because I will not allow my daughter to waltz into town and steal someone’s dog with…charm.”
He laughed, settling in next to her and placing the popcorn on the ottoman. “Wine?”
“Yes, please. And then I’ll take Lieutenant Pete Mitchell for days.”
He rolled his eyes as he poured her a glass. “The blonde’s not bad, either, you know.”
“So you’re the one,” Summer said in a sultry Kelly McGillis voice.
He laughed softly. “Yes, ma’am. Four G’s in an inverted flyby.”
“Too aggressive,” she teased, doing her best to remember some random lines even if they didn’t track with the movie dialogue.
“I can see it’s dangerous for you.” He leaned his shoulder into hers. “But if the government trusts me…maybe you could.”
“It takes a lot more than just fancy flying.” She cracked up. “Do we really need to watch this movie?” she asked. “Or can we just recite it to each other?”
“We have to watch. It’s a first.”
“A first? The first time you’ve watched it…this week?”
He laughed. “First time with a…date.”
“Seriously?” She turned to him, mulling over this new information. “I can’t believe this isn’t your go-to for the girls, John. You can show off your knowledge of planes and great movie lines.”
“I didn’t know there are women who even like the movie, let alone quote every line.”
“Women like sexy guys who fly planes,” she teased.
He raised his glass in a toast. “Let’s drink to our favorite character,” he said.
“Maverick?”
“Actually, mine’s Goose. Loyal to a fault, has his priorities straight, and is, frankly, the brains of the operation in Ghost Rider.”
She considered that, nodding. “I forgot their plane was Ghost Rider. Well, I think my favorite character is Mrs. Goose.”
“Carole,” he supplied. At her surprised reaction, he added, “Little-known fact, but that is the name of Meg Ryan’s character.”
“You’re hard-core, Santorini.”
He clinked her glass with his. “She does have one of the best lines, though.”
Summer leaned in, very close, and whispered, “Take me to bed or lose me forever.”
For a moment, neither said a word, the electricity palpable as they looked into each other’s eyes. But then a soft, low bass hummed, and the room lit with an orange light, and the sound of a fighter jet roaring onto the deck of an air carrier gave them both a whole different kind of chills.
As the music rose to its first crescendo, the speakers screamed front, back, overhead, and maybe one in the floor, making Summer feel like she was in the movie instead of watching it.
“I built this sound system primarily for this movie,” he admitted. “So…” He nodded toward the tiny monitor. “Better turn it up in case we get paged.”
She did, then nestled into the arm he wrapped around her as they slid from this world into one a little older than she was, but still fresh and fun and really, really loud.
But not so loud they couldn’t whisper the lines to each other, sometimes right ahead of the actor, sometimes with.
And by the time the impossibly beautiful flight instructor barreled her ridiculously expensive vintage Porsche through the streets of Miramar and fell right into Pete Mitchell’s arms, John and Summer had each finished a sizable glass of wine and half the popcorn. At the first kiss between Mav and Charlie, they slid a little lower into the leather, their bodies lined up and pressed together.
“Uh-oh,” John whispered into her hair. “This would be where your brother would fast-forward.”
She looked up at him, so close she could see the individual whiskers of his dark beard. “He’d say ‘Mom doesn’t want you to watch the kissing part.’”
“So, should we…”
She slid his glasses off and set them on the table. “Mom doesn’t want you to see this. You might get ideas.”
“I have ideas.” He took hers off, too, putting them next to his before snagging the remote to hit mute. “I don’t want to hear them kiss. But I do want…” He lowered his head, holding her gaze, his intent so clear it nearly curled her toes. “To see if we can keep up with their dialogue.”
“They don’t talk in this part.”
“Exactly.” He put his mouth against hers, wrapping both arms around her to intensify the kiss.
She felt her eyes close and her lips part, and everything melted into him. He tasted like red wine and salt, his tongue flicking against hers in the first few steps of a mating dance. As he deepened the kiss, he splayed his hands on her waist, holding her so securely she felt like she could free-fall into him.
He whispered her name and lifted her chin to plant sweet, sweet kisses on her throat, making a whimper slip from her lips.
She could see the flashing of the screen as the movie played, but it felt more like white lights in her head as her whole body lit up with each new place he kissed and touched. With a gentle touch, he eased her back, taking them both horizontal on the couch.
“Mmm,” she moaned as his mouth dipped lower over her collarbone. “See why this should be your go-to date movie?”
Hi
s hand skimmed her side, warm and slow and so close to the intimate places she wanted him to touch. After another long kiss, he lifted his head to look at her. “Then I’d never get to see the end.”
“You don’t want to watch the end?”
“I know the end.” He kissed her again, settling his whole long, strong body on top of hers, letting her feel every muscle and leave no doubt he did not want to watch the end. “What I don’t know,” he whispered between kisses, “is how this will end.”
“It’s lookin’ good so far.”
He let out a half laugh, half groan at the famous final line, but even with the images playing on his giant screen, Top Gun was forgotten. All Summer could do was move with John, return his kisses, and feel the slow burn simmer between them.
“You know, don’t you?” He lifted his head to ask the question, his fingers slowly tugging at the tie that held her dress straps on her shoulders.
“I know…” She frowned at him, not following, wondering if it was yet another movie line. “That you’re looking for a way into this dress.”
“Or to get you out of it.” He finished one strap and started on the other. “But that’s not what I meant.”
“Then I know…what?”
He stilled all movement between them, his hands, his hips, his legs as they moved against hers.
“How I feel about you.”
She swallowed, watching his expression as the lights from the silent movie played against his profile. “I know you like me.”
He gave a hint of a smile. “Yeah, Summer, I like you.”
“I know you…want me.” She rocked her hips a little to underscore that.
“More than I…” His voice grew gruff. “More than I can say.”
“What else should I know?” she asked tentatively.
Both straps down, he put a single finger inside the edge of her puckered bodice, both of them knowing she had nothing on underneath. One inch, and he’d be on his way to…everything.
“I’m crazy about you,” he admitted. “Like, a full-blown crush. Wake up thinking about you, go to sleep aching for you, spend way too many hours in between looking for you or at you.”
Hush, Puppy Page 19
