Finding Summer (Nightwind Book 3)

by Suzanne Halliday

  “Nope. There’s no ten-second rule for stuff dumped in my lap.”

  Her happy grin was infectious. “Wheelchair etiquette,” she informed Arnie in a snarky drawl that got a laugh from the Sergeant Major. “Rumor has it, he makes the rules up as he goes.”

  Arnie eyed the wheelchair scooter, picked up on the custom look and paint job, and felt a surge of relief. Thank god her friend wasn’t homeless.

  He watched their interaction with growing curiosity.

  After stashing the snacks in a saddlebag, Cy patted his lap and waggled both brows. “Give an old man a cheap thrill and go for a spin?”

  Summer clapped her hands and giggled. “But of course!”

  Wait, what? Arnie thought as his golden girl in her pretty Boho dress plopped onto the vet’s lap and shrieked with laughter as he used the scooter controls to whirl them in a circle.

  “Whee!” she exclaimed with childlike exultation

  Arnie’s jaw locked, and he fought the urge to scowl. Sergeant Major Cyrus Westmoreland was your run-of-the-mill dirty old man. Not that he could blame him. Summer must have the same effect on lots of guys—a thought he did not easily accept.

  “Relax, son.” The guy chortled when the scooter show ended, and Summer scrambled off his lap. “Bit of harmless fun.”

  This harmless fun was debatable, but Arnie backed down when the man added, “The missus makes me stand if I wanna dance. This is way more fun.”

  Summer suddenly bent and hugged the old guy. From his viewpoint, Arnie was treated to quite the view of her delightful ass in a pair of boy shorts. He knew his reaction was ridiculous, but that didn’t stop him from being relieved that more than a thong covered her lap-sitting bottom.

  “Give Joanne my love and tell her I finished the bread.” She turned to catch Arnie’s gaze and smiled. “His wife tried teaching me how to bake, but I sucked at it. My first attempt was less than stellar.”

  Cy opened his camo jacket to show them the sweater vest he wore beneath. He puffed proudly and proved with his words what a great husband he was.

  “I hate the cold, but there’s nothing worse than wearing fuddy-duddy, old man clothes. My missus knows me”—he snortled—“and did me a proper with this Grateful Dead pattern.”

  “Look,” Summer said in a lighthearted voice. “The dancing bears have black horse scarves. How cute!”

  Arnie glanced at Cy. Their eyes met, and they both smiled at the same time. It was obvious the aging veteran wasn’t immune to Summer’s charms.

  “I’m headed to Tony’s for an intervention.” Cy’s face appeared more amused than concerned. “It’s Marty. He’s off the wagon again.”

  “Oh, no,” Summer said in a drawn-out sigh. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” Cy chuckled. “He ate half a pan of lasagna and a pile of garlic bread while bitching about the evils of keto with every mouthful.”

  Arnie chuckled. “Wait, you’re having a carbohydrate intervention?”

  Summer roared with laughter and tried to explain. “Poor Marty. His daughter is getting married this autumn, and he’s trying to get into shape for a tuxedo.”

  “The carbs are winning,” Cy drawled. “But he made his best buds swear to call him on his shit if he wavered.” He shrugged. “There are worse things than a roly-poly father of the bride, but hey, what do I know? I have two boys and three grandsons.”

  “I’m having dinner at the Four Seasons, and if there is a god and she’s listening, I hope there will be plenty of carbs,” his feisty golden lover stipulated in her power-girl voice.

  He thought it was adorable when she tried to act big, bad, and in charge.

  The way Cy studied him after Summer revealed their plans made it abundantly clear the guy thought Arnie was a dog. He cringed inwardly and waved off a hot flush of guilt, remembering some dog-like positioning the previous night. He didn’t have to wonder if she enjoyed the ass up-face down pounding. Lusty moans and her pussy creaming all over his cock were dead giveaways.

  “We should be going,” Arnie muttered in a gravelly tone. He cupped Summer’s elbow to encourage her compliance.

  She allowed him to call the shots but stood her ground long enough to say goodbye to her unlikely friend. “I’ll drop by the Vet Center in a couple of days with a tray of tamales from the restaurant. Is next Thursday good?”

  “Thursday it is, Missy Sunflower. Enjoy your dinner.” Cy smiled at Summer while simultaneously glaring in Arnie’s direction. “Be a good girl now, ya hear?”

  As they drove away, all he could think about was Cy’s last comment. Be a good girl.

  The greenish glow from the car’s dashboard displays settled around Arnie. She could feel his emotions but wasn’t having much success deciphering his mood. Was the color green a clue he was jealous?

  She wasn’t sure why, but something about meeting Cyrus got under his skin. Everything was fine and friendly until it suddenly wasn’t. Summer had no idea what caused the sudden shift. Guys were so strange.

  “I love Cy,” she softly but earnestly murmured as if stating the obvious was going to even out Arnie’s disposition.

  “Yeah, I got that,” he muttered in response.

  “He’s old enough to be my grandfather.”

  “Yep.”

  Lifting her chin, she replied in a rush of words. “Why are you suddenly so grumpy? Stop it. Cranky and disagreeable set me off.”

  “I’m not cranky,” he growled. “Drop it, Summer. It’s guy stuff.”

  Was he out of his mind? “Oh, pfft,” she snarled with a dismissive gesture. “Guy stuff. Really? That’s your answer?”

  When he didn’t have a comeback, she laid down a few facts to remind the blond Adonis just who the hell he was dealing with.

  “I come from the bluest of the blue collar,” she dryly told him in a snarky tone. “My dad had a lapel pin from the Blessed Order of Saint Shutthefuckup.” She flipped her hair back over one shoulder with Kardashian-style exaggeration and arched a brow. “And let’s not overlook what it’s like to have an older brother who is career military. Don’t embarrass yourself by painting a shitty attitude as guy stuff,” she growled with air quotes.

  Her words struck a nerve, and he flinched. Good. Being young wasn’t the same as being a pushover. Same for the girl-next-door thing. Anyone mistaking her normal friendliness for a lack of self-awareness was in for a shock.

  “What is your problem?” she squawked. “I’m serious, Arnie. What?”

  After some seat shifting, a dark sigh, and some obvious hemming and hawing, he finally grumbled so miserably she had to bite back a laugh.

  “He knows, okay?”

  Hmm. Knows what? She thought about it for a second before it dawned on her what he meant.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed with surprise. “Do you mean he knows we’re, um, sleeping together?”

  He turned his head, narrowed his eyes, and grunted. “We don’t do a lot of sleeping, Summer.”

  Feeling defensive and shy at the same time, she blurted out, “Nobody should care if we’re doing it.”

  “Young girl, older dude luring you to surrender your innocence in exchange for sinful perversions. The moral corruption is implied.”

  You know what? He needed to lighten up.

  “Sinful perversions? Did we do any of that?” Her teasing tone worked. He backed down and quietly chuckled.

  Her mouth asked a question and made a comment that her mind hadn’t vetted before she blurted the words out.

  “Did you know how possessive you could be? Just asking ’cause I sense surprise.”

  There was a quiet wonder in his voice when, after another chuckle, he said, “You sense surprise? Man, I need to write a memo to the universe about script-flipping and what that shit means to a guy like me.”

  She had no idea what he was getting at. None. Nada. Zilch.

  A chill ran up and down her neck, and she stared at him in the darkness. The greenish hue was gone—replaced by a halo of flashing twinkles. In profil
e, it looked as though a cluster of sparkles clung to his eyelashes. When he exhaled, delicate, wispy trails swirled in the air. She focused on one here and one there before they disappeared.

  A voice, hers, whispered in Summer’s mind, suggesting the possibility that she, a mere mortal, was in the presence of a supreme being.

  Shocked and unsettled, she tried to slow her breathing and get a grip. It wasn’t just her fanciful daydreams this time. Arnie’s spirit, vigor, and commanding nature were not made up. She filled with awe, knowing in her soul that there was more to this encounter than sex.

  “Stop it.” He snorted with amusement.

  “What am I doing?” she asked.

  At the traffic light, he stopped the car and pinned her with a fierce look.

  “You’re stumbling around inside my head.”

  Oh, shit. So she wasn’t imagining things. What the hell did she do now?

  “Stumbling? Well, crap. I envisioned something way more graceful and ballet-like.”

  His reaction was a jerking startle. “So you know you’re doing it?”

  There was nothing to do but let instinct take over and pray she wasn’t making a huge mistake.

  “You’re making it difficult to pretend this is all perfectly normal. And I told you, I can hear your heart, so don’t act so surprised.”

  Throwing it back to him seemed all sorts of clever until the golden god laughed. “Well, fuck. If that’s the case, why aren’t you repeatedly slapping my face?”

  She smirked. “Because I like being worshipped. It turns out, there’s not much of a difference between goddess and slut.”

  The light turned, and the car sped off. It appeared as though they were in a hurry. A naughty and very pleased smile made her lips tingle.

  In the film version of this date, the car was on two wheels when they turned into the hotel driveway at a high rate of speed and came to a squealing halt at the valet stand.

  She touched the door handle but stopped when Arnie growled.

  “Don’t move.”

  Commanded to obey, she surrendered to his will, triggering a shivering thrill to dance along her nerves. She’d never felt more powerful or female.

  Her car door opened rather forcefully. She saw Arnie point at the uniformed valet attendant and tersely tell him to back off.

  Ah, the forbidding tone and demeanor of a territorial male. Squee!

  A hand moved in front of her face. She calmly offered her trembling fingers. When his larger ones engulfed hers and he pulled her out of the car, he murmured close to her ear.

  “Only a golden goddess could survive the slut-fucking you’re in for.”

  She gasped and searched his face.

  “Oh, and please remember it was you coining the phrase. I’m just using your words.”

  “Serves me right, I guess, huh?” Summer giggled.

  Biting back a laugh took effort when Arnie barked at the valet and tossed the car keys to the guy. The testosterone exuded by her larger-than-life lover rolled off his big body in waves. Each surge pushed her farther and farther from shore, but she was an excellent swimmer.

  He held her hand as they entered the beautiful hotel complex. She was struck by the significance of the sweet gesture. Handholding wasn’t something fuck buddies engaged in. It felt intimate and meaningful.

  Arnie took big, fast steps. His man-on-a-mission vibe gave her the happy giggles, but she had to clutch his hand or end up face planting as she hurried to keep up with him. The stylish strappy shoes she had on were not made for sprinting.

  “Hey! Slow down,” she cautioned when his speed caused her to hop over a display of terra cotta planters.

  He stopped dead in his tracks. She body slammed him and grunted, “Oof.”

  He might be older, wiser, and have a ton of experience, but the wildness in his eyes told her he was flying without a net. Through their connected palms, she felt a tremor move through his body. She gave his hand a slight squeeze and offered a small smile.

  Their eyes held. “I know,” she whispered.

  “Do you?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” Her admission seemed to come as a surprise. “I want to be alone with you too.”

  Some of the wildness in his eyes calmed. She leaned closer, and said, “But if I fall and skin my knees, it kind of puts a crimp in the sinful perversion plan my goddess slut side is imagining.”

  “We don’t want that.” He chuckled.

  His gaze was full of longing and lust. His self-confidence and sexual magnetism overwhelmed her. He was seducing her without trying. Thank god for the lacy boy short underwear she had on because no joke, if she wasn’t wearing panties of any kind, Summer was sure arousal would be dripping down her inner thigh.

  A switch flipped, and he morphed into a charming, personable tour guide, pointing out architectural details and commenting on the hotel’s design. He walked slower and took his time, but there was little doubt that he was taking her someplace where they could explore the sexual perversions she teased him about.

  There was simply no way to describe the gorgeous freestanding, private bungalow hidden in a lush jungle garden. Arnie made no effort to disguise his boyish delight at having reserved the private little house after a booking skirmish with someone else in his party.

  “Having too many people around screws with my Qi.”

  She chuckled. “Is that your way of saying other people’s bullshit disrupts your energy flow?”

  “Precisely.” His grin was huge. “I’m no Taoist, believe me”—he snorted—“but that doesn’t mean distraction can’t drive me up a wall.”

  Every covetous look made her heart beat faster. She sensed how pleased he was that she understood his strange references and realized he was just like her, but different. Arnie felt at ease in the realm of spirit and energy, where Summer lived so much of her inner life. She’d never met anyone sharing her quirks. The feeling made her dizzy with longing—for more.

  He took her on a quick tour of the bungalow. They almost didn’t make it out of the gorgeous Spanish tile bathroom when she couldn’t stop gushing enthusiastically about the tub and the sinks and the mirrors and the colors. If she ever had the chance to buy a house, her wish list of must-haves included a garden, a killer bathroom with space for activities, and a place where she could sit in the sun—inside or out. It didn’t matter as long as she connected with nature.

  The rest of the bungalow was a slice of classic Hollywood glam with dark woods, lush upholstery, and a perfect blend of Spanish Colonial and modern comfort. The dining room table was set for two. She sighed at the sight of flowers and candlelight. The touch was so wonderfully old-school.

  A glass wall opened directly to a secluded patio with a stunning plunge pool and a massive fireplace.

  No detail was spared, and she had to admit the setting was perfect for seduction. Decadent, mind-blowing, toe-curling, dripping-wet seduction.

  The doorbell rang. Arnie lifted her hand to his mouth for a gentle kiss.

  “That will be the chef with our dinner. His crew will set up in the dining room. Is that okay?”

  “Okay?” She playfully pretended to sock him in the ribs. “You could have had me for a Happy Meal and a chocolate sundae.”

  His deep laughter as he left her to deal with dinner made Summer’s heart sing.

  She wandered around the incredible patio. It was large but still cozy with comfy-looking furniture, lush, green foliage, scattered planters, and large metal lanterns with thick, flickering pillar candles.

  The whirlpool bubbled gently in the plunge pool. It was a cool January evening, but frolicking in the heated water appealed to her. She spied the stack of plush towels placed on the end of the twin lounge chairs and frowned.

  Arnie’s voice startled her when he reappeared without making a sound. “Why the frown, golden girl?”

  “Oh, well, I was just thinking.” She motioned at the pool. “I wish I’d brought a bathing suit.”

  “You won’t need on
e.”

  Her heart thump-thumped. He was looking at her with unmistakable lust. In his eyes, she saw them naked, wrapped in steam, and dripping with water. Her hands clutched his neck, and her legs wrapped around his waist as he impaled her on his glorious manhood.

  Shaken by the vision, she looked away and chomped down hard on her lip. How in the world was she going to eat dinner and act normal when she suspected what might take place later?

  “Ah, Summer,” he growled. “Your slutty innocence excites me.”

  She fanned her face when embarrassment claimed her. “I can’t tell whether I’m seeing your dirty thoughts or mine.”

  Grabbing her around the waist, he leaned in and bit her neck so fast she squealed.

  “It takes two,” he murmured. “Everything about you calls to me. The way you whimper when my cock claims your body. Your virgin pussy squeezing me with all your might. These things fill my senses. It’s never been like this for me before. You need to know this. I want you in life-changing ways.”

  His eyes devoured her. Summer experienced a world shift. She felt enslaved—but in a good way.

  Hesitantly, she murmured, “Life-changing? What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. I only know it’s how I feel.”

  She sank into the comfy cushions of a chair near the fireplace while Arnie directed the hotel staff bustling in and out of the bungalow. A beverage cart was wheeled next to the open French doors leading into the master bedroom. Every lantern was lit, and a smiling hotel employee draped a beautiful sunset-colored throw blanket over the chair next to Summer’s.

  The jets of the whirlpool kicked on. Steam began to rise off the churning water.

  In a romantic gesture, a large arrangement of greens and sunflowers was placed on the outdoor table. A buffet cart laden with covered dishes sat nearby.

  He’d thought of everything. Happiness swirled inside her.

  “The chef thinks I’m a dick.” Arnie snortled when everyone left, and he joined her on the patio.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Call it a deliberate faux pas. If I had any manners, I’d have introduced you to him and let the guy do his foodie spiel. You know those creative types live for that shit.”