When she pulled open the door, he couldn’t believe it. Hair flawless, face made up and another perfect little outfit. Her sandals had a low heel today, but some kind of shiny stones decorated the straps. “Good morning, Cam. Are you ready?”
“Ready for what? A freakin’ party?”
“What party? I thought we were going shopping.”
He took a deep breath, not that he thought it would help. “It’s seven-thirty in the morning, Anna. Even if the stores were open yet, which they’re not because it’s Sunday, blasting that shit music is rude. People come to Askaskwi Lake to relax. They’re on vacation and nobody who’s on vacation likes the neighborhood sounding like a dance club at the crack of dawn.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t even thinking about it being the weekend. Hopefully, the other camps are too far away for the music to disturb them.”
“It disturbed me.”
“And, again, I’m sorry.” She did look sorry for a few seconds, but then the corners of that delicious mouth tilted up. “Although, you’re not on vacation.”
“That’s not the point.” She’d figure out the point when her CD player was in the lake if she did it again. “What time did you get up?”
“Five. I always get up at five so I can work out and get my list ready for the day. I’ve already gotten quite a bit done this morning, but that’s probably because of the coffee and doughnuts. I’ve been trying to stick to decaf and cut out a lot of sugar because my stomach’s been a mess lately, so hello caffeine, sugar and carbs!”
So she was so intense she’d given herself an ulcer and now she was going to work on giving him one, too. “Make sure decaf’s on the list, then, because I’m going to be a lot less friendly if I wake up to this crap again.”
She just stared at him through the screen door for a few seconds, and then she laughed. “Less friendly? How would you do that, exactly? Carry an axe?”
“I gave you food.”
“I appreciated those ninety-nine cent frozen microwave pizzas, but what’s the matter with my music?”
“It sucks.”
She rolled her eyes. “What do you listen to?”
“Country.”
“There’s a surprise.” He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but he knew it wasn’t meant to be flattering. “Music helps me set my tempo for the day, so I want it to be fast and upbeat. Starting off my day listening to some guy croon about how sexy his pick-up truck is isn’t going to get my blood pumping.”
Cam’s blood was pumping. He could feel it throbbing in his temples. “Quiet hours are from 9:00 p.m. to 8:00 a.m. most of the week and 9:00 a.m. on Sunday mornings.”
“Oh, really? Is there an association rulebook I missed?”
“It’s my rule and I enforce it myself. If I wake up to that shit again, your sound system’s going in the lake and, if you squawk, you’ll go in, too.” He started to walk away, then muttered a few robust curses under his breath. “Be ready to go in a half hour. And I’m stopping for breakfast on the way.”
Slow Summer Kisses
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Copyright © 2012 Shannon Stacey
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One Summer Weekend
ISBN-13: 9781488059759
Copyright © 2019 by Shannon Stacey
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