Summer Heat

by Sanders, Jill

She had already tensed, since it was the first time her phone had rung during their trip.

  “They wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important,” she said, slipping out of his hold. She wrapped a towel around herself, hunted for her phone, and found it under his towel.

  “Hello?” she answered without looking at the number.

  “Elle.”

  Hearing Jeff’s voice on the line had her back stiffening.

  “I thought you would want to hear it directly from me,” he continued when she didn’t speak. “My firm has been hired by a client recently, one suing you and your new company, River Camp. She’s claiming there was a hostile work environment and that it was work-related stress that caused her to lash out. She’s also claiming employment discrimination.”

  “You’re in Colorado,” she said, unable to process any of what he’d just said to her. Liam came to her side. She turned and tried to avoid his eyes but could see the anger there when he guessed who she was on the phone with. “My business is in Florida.”

  “I took a position and was made partner at a firm in Pensacola a few months ago,” he answered. Elle closed her eyes and held her breath. “I thought I’d give you a heads up. You should be getting notice soon. I just wanted . . . to tell you personally.” The fact that there was zero remorse or concern in his voice somehow stung even more.

  “Is it Ryan?” she asked, though it was obvious.

  “My client? Yes, Ryan Kinsley.”

  Her stomach roiled, and she sat on the edge of the bench. “She tried to kill someone.”

  “I can’t discuss the case with you,” Jeff said. “I’m already breaking so many rules by calling you personally. I just . . . thought you should know.”

  “I’ve been informed,” she said, then reached down and hung up.

  “Tell me that wasn’t—” Liam started.

  “Ryan is suing River Camp.” She closed her eyes.

  “What? The hell . . .” He took her phone and punched in a number. “Hey. Yeah, I know.”

  She listened to his one-sided conversation. “Elle just got a call from a lawyer who claims that Ryan is suing River Camp. How the hell should I know. Find out if it’s true. Yeah, then have . . . yeah, okay. Thanks.” He hung up and took her in his arms. “Owen’s on it. He’s going to have Joel contact our team of lawyers and countersue, if it’s true.”

  “She really does have long claws.” Elle leaned into him. “I thought . . . she’d go away.”

  “Women like her—people like her—don’t let go easily.” He drew her closer.

  “I have to call—”

  Her phone rang again. She glanced down and saw Hannah’s number on her screen. “That will be them.”

  “Tell me there’s some sort of chocolate in the fridge,” she said before answering the phone.

  While she filled Hannah and the others in over the speakerphone, Liam disappeared inside and returned with a bottle of champagne and some chocolate-covered strawberries. She’d had half a dozen of them with two whole glasses of champagne by the time she got off the phone with her friends.

  “I agree with Hannah,” Liam said, pulling her into a hug again. They had moved inside, since she had suddenly felt chilled in the warm night air. He’d even wrapped a throw blanket around her shoulders. Now, he ran his hands up and down her arms. “Get some rest. You can’t do anything more tonight.”

  She felt drained. Even the sugar from the chocolate couldn’t help her perk up. “You’re right.” She finished off the rest of her drink.

  “I often am,” he said, then surprised her by lifting her into his arms. She held on to him and enjoyed the play of the muscles in his shoulders as he started walking up the stairs.

  “So, the question now is”—he bent his head down and ran his lips over hers—“who gets to be on top?”

  She burst out laughing. Somehow, when things were darkest, he made the sun come out.

  She somehow found sleep that night. Her mind just shut off after they lay together, their bodies cooling in the night air, tangled together. She didn’t even dream, that she knew of.

  When she woke, the sun was already streaming into the room. She must have groaned, because Liam tightened his hold on her.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “What time is it?” She tried to glance around and realized there wasn’t an alarm clock anywhere.

  “Probably around eight.”

  “Probably?” She reached for her phone and was surprised that he was about right. “Ten after.”

  “See, we still have plenty of time.” He tried to pull her back into the bed, but she had to use the bathroom and slipped from his hold.

  “Bathroom first,” she said and disappeared. She had sneaked her cell phone in with her and sent a text off to Hannah to see if she’d heard anything else yet.

  She got an almost-instant reply.

  —Paperwork showed up today.

  —So, it’s official?

  —Owen is looking over it all right now. I’ll keep you posted. When will you be back?

  —Should be there around one.

  —Enjoy the rest of your trip. We’ve got this covered.

  She thought about sending a text to Zoey and asking the same but knew that Hannah had probably already talked to everyone that morning.

  When she stepped back out to the bedroom, Liam was missing. She pulled on a fresh shirt and shorts and then found him downstairs in the kitchen, making breakfast.

  She sat at the bar top and smiled over at him. “What are you doing?”

  He chuckled. “Haven’t you seen a man cook before?”

  “Sure, I watch Isaac every now and then, and Joe could make several great meals.” She leaned over and glanced at the stove, where he had an omelet heating up. “I didn’t know you could do it, though.”

  He shrugged and continued moving around the place. “I’m probably the best cook out of the three of us—four if you count my dad. And he doesn’t really count, since he burns coffee if he makes it himself.” He set a mimosa in front of her. “What did your friends say?”

  “Nothing new.” She sighed as she sipped. “I’m going to want mimosas every morning now.”

  “You can, if you want.” He continued working. “I talked to Owen. He says the lawyers will contact you later today, after we get back.”

  “Thanks.” She shifted in the seat. “I never thought it would come to something like this. I mean, sure, I have insurance that covers being sued as a business, in case someone fell or was injured, but . . .” She sipped again. “Not injuries from an employee who tried to kill your brother and my best friend.”

  “I knew there was something off about her from the start.” He turned and looked at her. “She ripped off my shirt.”

  “I’ve ripped off your shirt,” she reminded him.

  “Yeah, but with you, I wanted it.” He smiled. “Let’s eat this outside.” He grabbed the two plates of food.

  She held open the door and then took the glasses and pitcher of mimosas out to the patio. He set a plate down in front of her, and she had to admit, it looked good.

  “Try it,” he suggested, sitting next to her. “I swear it’s not poisoned.” He took a bite. “See.”

  “It’s pretty enough to take a picture.” She pulled out her phone from her shorts and snapped a few shots; then she pushed her drink in the frame and snapped a few more.

  “It’s going to get cold,” he warned. “I’ve never understood the fascination of taking food pictures.”

  She set her phone aside. “To remember how good it was, or . . .” She laughed. “As evidence of my last meal.” He laughed with her. She took a bite and groaned at the richness and the tang of sweetness she tasted. “It’s as good as it looks. Is that—”

  “Lime juice,” he said. “It gives it a little zing.”

  “Wow,” she said, taking another bite. “You should cook like this back home,” she said, shoveling more into her mouth. When he remained silent, she glanced up and re
alized what she’d said.

  “I mean . . . at the camp.” She felt her stomach roll.

  “Yeah.” He shifted and pushed his plate aside. “I was thinking about that.”

  Oh god, here it comes, she thought. He was going to tell her he was leaving, like his brother had. Sure, he’d said that he’d told them he was staying, but that didn’t mean he’d be there for long or that he wouldn’t change his mind.

  “I have a small condo, in Destin, and I have a few things there . . .”

  He sipped his drink, and she wondered if her heart would burst from not beating.

  “I was thinking of clearing my stuff from it and bringing it to the camp. I might need a storage shed—the room I’m in is small, but I could make it work.”

  Her heart started again. “You want to move to the camp? Full time?” she asked, finally finding her voice.

  “Yes, I was thinking . . . yes.” He nodded. “If it’s okay with you and your friends?”

  “Yes.” She reached for his hand. “I’m sure we can find a place for your stuff.”

  “Great, because if not, I was going to have to dump it all at the donation box.”

  She laughed and then finished the first meal any man other than her grandfather had ever cooked just for her.

  After breakfast, they took a dip in the pool and walked on the small plot of sandy beach that sat behind the house before packing up and jumping into a car to head to the airport.

  The airport was as small as the one she was used to, and it took less than ten minutes to get through security and find their gate.

  Once they were loaded on the plane, she wasn’t surprised to find that he had booked them in first class.

  “I’ve never ridden in first class,” she admitted, getting comfortable on the small plane.

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” She nodded.

  “You’ve never traded up your points or miles to ride in style?”

  “Nope, never.” She snapped on her seat belt.

  “Well, then, sit back and enjoy it.” He waved a stewardess over and asked for mimosas.

  “More?” She thought she’d explode.

  He chuckled. “One last one. To toast the end of a wonderful two days.”

  “Thank you,” she said, “for everything.”

  “Anytime.” He took her free hand and brought it up to his lips again.

  She leaned back in her seat and sipped her drink as they prepared to take off.

  She had to admit: there was a lot more legroom up in the front. She always struggled with her long legs. Being five nine had its perks, but cramming into a small airplane seat wasn’t one of them.

  “Doing okay?” he asked once they were in the air.

  “Yes.” She smiled. “You probably heard about Zoey’s phobia for air travel. I enjoy flying.”

  “Good.” He relaxed slightly. “So, do you have any phobias?”

  She thought about it. “I guess spiders.” She shrugged. “Although, I don’t kill them, since they eat mosquitos, which I hate even more.”

  “What about yellow flies?” he asked.

  “Okay, those can just be wiped off the face of the earth, and I wouldn’t blink an eye,” she joked.

  “Agreed—do you think god created them after Adam bit into the fruit of knowledge? You know . . .” His voice grew deeper. “I’m pissed at man, so I’m going to create little flying bugs that will wreak havoc and annoy the shit out of man for the rest of his days.”

  She laughed again. “Hey, men lucked out on that whole thing. Women get cursed once a month and have to deal with childbirth.”

  “I don’t know; if it was up to dealing with that or wiping out all of the biting bugs in the world, I’d gladly trade.”

  “So would most women. I think.”

  He took her hand in his again. “I’m glad we have this in common.”

  “What? Our hatred for biting insects?” She finished off her drink.

  “Yes, you know, a lot of couples don’t agree on things like this.” He leaned closer. “It’s the number-one cause of separations.”

  She reached up and kissed him. “You’re lucky you found me, then.”

  His eyes met hers, and she felt like she could drown in the hazel pools.

  “Yes.” His voice grew softer. “I am.”

  Liam kept her laughing until the plane landed. She felt completely relaxed until they stepped outside and the realization of what she would have to face back at the camp hit her.

  “Hey,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Don’t let it affect you just yet.”

  “It’s hard to keep it at bay.” She sighed and fell into step with him.

  “Do you really think Ryan could win anything? I mean, there’s a history of her workplace problems. You said yourself you have written accounts from several other employees. Most likely a judge is going to toss out everything she and her lawyers throw your way.”

  She knew he was right, but still, the nagging feeling was causing her stomach to sink.

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “Even if my mind tells me you’re right, the rest of me has butterflies.”

  “Then you’ll just have to listen to your head,” he said, opening the car door for her.

  “Whose car is this?” She frowned when she realized they’d stopped at a parked car in the airport parking lot.

  “My brother’s. It’s a Tesla.” Liam smiled. “He dropped it off earlier this morning and gave me his log-in information so I can drive it.”

  “You have his keys?” She frowned when he got in beside her after putting their luggage into the trunk.

  “No, my phone is the key.” He waved his cell phone.

  “Zoey was telling me about this car.” She sat back. “Fully electric?”

  He nodded and started backing out. It was strange not hearing an engine humming as he drove them back toward the camp.

  When he finally parked the car in the employee parking lot, she turned to him.

  “What do you like better, this or my Jeep?” she asked.

  “They’re different animals.” He shifted and looked at her. “The Tesla is nice for highway driving, while your Jeep is kick ass for hitting the beach or cruising around town and enjoying a breeze. But we do have tinted windows in this car.” He kissed her.

  Then her phone rang, and she pulled it out. Frowning at the blocked number, she took a deep breath, then answered, thinking it would be the lawyers. “Hello?”

  “Elle.”

  Hearing Leo’s voice, she reached for Liam’s hand. “Leo?” She felt Liam’s hand jerk.

  He reached over and took her phone from her.

  “Dad?” Liam said into her phone.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Liam?” Leo Costa’s voice was nothing short of a whisper. “You there?”

  Liam tried to control his temper. “Dad? Where the hell are you?”

  “Liam, what are you doing with my Elle?” Leo asked instead of answering. His father always did things on his own terms.

  “We came here to look for you. Where are you?”

  “Came where?”

  “Dad.” Liam felt his control slip, and his tone changed. “Where are you?”

  “I’m standing in the lobby of my damn building. Why are you with my Elle?”

  “She’s not yours.” Liam didn’t know why he’d said it, but his father was pissing him off. “So you’re home?”

  “Put Elle back on the phone,” his father said.

  “Where were you?” he asked instead of handing the phone over.

  “Fine, I’ll just call her—”

  “Dad, you had the three of us worried sick . . .”

  “No, I had the board calling you and complaining to you three that I was gone, and then you boys jumped like three little puppies through a goddamned hoop.” His father’s voice rose slightly.

  Liam took a deep breath to calm down. “You’ve been gone for six months.”

  “It’s not
the first time,” his father replied.

  “Fine.” Liam jerked the phone away and handed it to Elle. “He wants to talk to you.”

  He stormed out of the car when she answered the phone. Pulling out their luggage, he felt like throwing it across the parking lot. Instead, he took out his cell phone and called Owen.

  “Guess who I just got off the phone with?”

  “Who?” Owen asked.

  “Dad.”

  “What?” He heard Owen fumble with the phone. “Where is he?”

  “Home, apparently.”

  “Son of a . . .”

  “Yeah.” Liam ran his hands through his hair. “He didn’t even call me. He called Elle.” He glanced back at the car and could see Elle listening to his father on the phone. She had a worried look in her eyes as she watched him pace in front of the car. “He’s talking to her right now, instead of filling me in on where he was.”

  “Where are you?” Owen asked.

  “We just got back. I’m in the parking lot,” he answered.

  “Shit, I’ll be there—”

  Something crashed, and he thought he heard a female voice, but then Owen was back.

  “Meet me at the pool bar in half an hour. I’ll talk to Dylan. We all need to talk.”

  He agreed and hung up, but he turned when Elle got out of the car. “Well?”

  “He . . . needed a favor.” She straightened her back.

  “Are you going to tell me?” he asked after a moment.

  “He made me promise . . .” She took a deep breath. “Liam, I can’t.” She shook her head. “Not . . . yet.”

  “Fine.” He picked up his bag and started to storm away. She grabbed her bag and followed him quickly.

  “If I could . . .” she began.

  “Yeah,” he said over his shoulder. “I get it.” He was feeling more than pissed now. When he opened the front doors, he didn’t wait for Elle and quickly climbed the stairs to dump his bag in the room he shared with Owen.

  When he stepped out a few minutes later, Elle was standing outside the door, her luggage still sitting by her feet.

  “Liam,” she started.

  “I need some time. I’m not pissed at you, but . . .” He closed his eyes. “I’m just pissed.”

  “I get it.” She wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry. If it was my choice, I’d tell you. But it’s not.”