Summer Catch (Four Seasons of Romance Book 1)

by Elle Viviani

  I glance up and make sure Summer’s still on task. She’s added the third rod to the pile and is heading back for the last one. It’s dangerously close to the edge, and the idea of Summer anywhere near that open panel makes me break out in a cold sweat.

  I leap to my feet and start toward her. “Let me get that last one. I’m used to these rough seas, and it’s a long way down to the water.”

  “No, it’s fine,” she says, not slowing down. Her steps are jilted and unsteady as the deck sways and rolls under us. Summer doesn’t have her sea legs yet. That, plus an open side, is a bad combo.

  “Wait!” I shout, quickening my steps.

  Summer looks back at me. “It was my fault so I’ll fix it!”

  “But I’d rather—”

  I’m cut off as the boat lurches to the right, then left. Luckily, I’m hugging the railing. Summer isn’t so lucky.

  I watch in slow motion as she wobbles side to side before finally being pitched forward. Her arms slice out in front of her as she tries to regain her balance, but it doesn’t help. She’s headed straight for the gap.

  “Whoa!” Her yelp is followed by a loud splash as she disappears from sight.

  I stand there for a moment, trying to decide if this was real or some sick joke. Did Summer really just find the only gap in the goddamn railing and fall through it?

  Yes. Yes she did.

  I moan and spring into action, cutting the engine and dropping anchor. I doubt Summer’s thinking clearly enough to find the ladder and climb back on board, so it looks like I’m getting wet. I tug off my shirt, kick off my shoes, and run to the back of the boat, diving off the edge into the choppy sea. The icy cold water shocks my system, attacking my skin and muscles like a thousand knives as I twist up and swim for the surface. My lungs gasp for air as my chest breaks through the whitecaps, filling my nostrils with the stinging ocean spray.

  I spin around and search the water for Summer. My eyes find her a moment later, swimming toward the ladder a few yards from me.

  Okay. Fair enough. Maybe she does have common sense. I kick out my legs and start toward her, slicing through the water with quick, hard strokes. “Are you okay?”

  She twists her head around. “I’m fine. Are you?”

  “Yeah,” I say, caught off guard. Why is she worried about me? “Can you reach the ladder?”

  “I’m trying, but the water’s really choppy.”

  “Here…” I swim up beside her and wrap my hands around her waist, foisting her up above the whitecaps. I catch my breath as her soft curves press against my chest, so warm and small in my arms. I drag my eyes over her face, now only inches from mine. Her cheeks are flushed and eyes wide as she struggles to keep herself afloat in the uneven surf. A droplet of water falls from her eyelash onto her cheek and slides down to her full, pouty lips…

  “Koa?”

  I snap my eyes back to hers, remembering who I’m holding and why. “Sorry.” I kick out my legs and swim us the remaining few yards to the ladder. Summer’s hands dart out and grab the ladder, pulling her up and out of my grasp. My chest turns ice cold without her soft warmth in my arms.

  The ladder ring slips from her hands as the boat bobs and sways with the waves. She kicks forward and reaches up, only to have the ladder sway out of reach again.

  I move up behind her and grasp her waist, steadying her in the uneven surf. “I’m here, Summer,” I murmur behind her. “Just take your time.”

  She takes a deep breath and reaches up, grasping for that rung. It takes her two more attempts, but eventually she’s able to drag herself onto the ladder. A few more steps and she’s pulling herself over the side and onto the deck. I grab the metal ladder railing, heave myself up, and join her a few moments later.

  “You okay?” I ask. She nods as she catches her breath. I give her about ten more seconds, then lay into her. “I can’t help but notice that the panel was left open.”

  Summer looks away. “I may have forgotten to close it earlier.”

  “Yes,” I say, my voice low and tense. “That’s just one of the long list of things you did horribly wrong today.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “Sorry doesn’t fix the fact that you just went over the side.”

  “But I lost my balance.”

  I scowl. “You shouldn’t have been over there in the first place.”

  “I was only trying to help!”

  “You should have listened to me!”

  We glare at each other, my tall frame looming over her shaking body. She looks so silly, so infuriating, as she stands there, drenched from head to toe, trying to outstare me.

  Summer steps back and lets out a pent-up breath. “Why aren’t you teaching me?”

  “There’d be no point. It’d take months to get you up to speed, and I don’t have months.”

  “You’re overreacting. I’d be ready in just a few weeks.”

  “Well I can’t even take that long. I’m already behind this season, and you’re not helping.” I motion behind her at the mess she’s created in one single day. “At this rate, you’re just slowing me down.”

  Summer looks at her feet, hurt and pain flitting across her face as my words sink in. “You don’t want me here, do you?”

  I shrug and look away.

  “Well—” She stops and clears her throat. “I’ll just stay out of your way, then.”

  I try to ignore the tears in her voice but fail miserably. The boats sways beneath my feet as my conscience rears its ugly head, both throwing me off my game. I’m being a class-A jerk. This wasn’t her fault. Well. Not all her fault.

  My eyes sweep around the deck, taking in the tattered net, broken fishing rods, and empty bait buckets. I’ve reached my limit. I can’t fish and keep the Boothes’ granddaughter from killing herself.

  A man can only take so much.

  “You know what?” I say, trying to keep my voice light. “It’s been a long day. Why don’t we call it quits.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” She turns and drags her feet toward the stairs. “I’ll be in the galley if you need me.” I give an audible sigh of relief. Finally, somewhere that she can’t destroy this boat and my self-restraint.

  I’ve just stepped behind the wheel when Summer pokes her head up the stairs. “Koa? I noticed there are some piles of life preservers down here. Do you want me to straighten them out?”

  Life preservers? My chest clenches in fear.

  “No!” I shout, putting a frown on her face. “Um, leave those alone for now,” I say in a more neutral tone. “You’ve had a trying afternoon. Just, uh, chill.”

  She nods and disappears belowdeck, my grip relaxing on the helm when I don’t hear rustling from down below. I can only imagine the havoc she would wreak on that task. On this boat’s “must haves” list, life preservers are pretty far up there.

  I plot a course for harbor, chalking up today as an utter loss. I don’t care if Summer means well or if she’s the granddaughter of my boss. I would rather find myself surrounded by sarcastic, sweater-vest-wearing hipsters than go back out on the waters with her. Because the last thing I need right now is a walking, talking, distractingly pretty hurricane dragging my boat down to the bottom of the Atlantic.

  7

  Summer

  “It was a fiasco, Maddie,” I say, turning into my grandparents’ driveway. “I thought it would be tough getting back on the water, but I never dreamed it would impossible.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” my friend says, her voice small and thin through my cell’s speaker phone.

  “I tangled up the reel line!”

  “So what? Whatever that is, I bet it happens all the time.”

  “And dropped perfectly good equipment over the side.”

  “Your grandfather will buy more.”

  “I fell off the boat,” I wail, gripping the steering wheel as the embarrassment from yesterday crashes over me anew. I’ll never forget the look of complete and total irritation on Koa’s
face.

  “Uh…” Maddie’s voice fades, trying to think of something nice to say. “It could have happened to anyone?”

  “Not to Captain Koa Rendell. I don’t think a hurricane could knock him off his feet.”

  “Cut yourself some slack. He has a bit more experience than you.”

  “Maybe, except that it got worse. As if me tumbling into the ocean wasn’t enough, he dove in after me.”

  “He what?”

  I pull to a stop in front of the garage and turn off the engine. “I had to be rescued. I’m a grown woman and I had to be fished out of the water. Like a lobster!”

  “He came in after you?”

  My hand pauses on the door handle. “Yes. So?”

  “So, that sounds amazing!”

  I stare at the phone lying on the passenger’s seat. “Why?”

  Maddison sighs. “From what you tell me, this man is hot.”

  “He’s okay,” I mutter.

  “Yeah, right. He’s exactly your type. A hunky, plaid-wearing manly-man that broods over everything and—”

  “Okay, he’s not bad looking.” I roll my eyes. “So what?”

  “So he rescued you. That’s like insanely hot.”

  I throw open the door and step out into the sunshine bathing the bright pink azaleas and baby-blue hydrangeas dotting the rolling hill behind my grandparents’ house. “But it’s also insanely embarrassing,” I say, leaning back in for my phone. I place it on the roof of the Volvo and open the back to grab the groceries.

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to impress him, not show him that I’m a bumbling klutz.”

  “Ah. Alright, I get that, but do you think he really cares?”

  You’re just slowing me down.

  I cringe as Koa’s words float up from the surface of my memory. They’re still too raw to bury deep just yet. “Yeah. He cares.”

  “Oh…” Maddison’s quiet for a moment. “So what are you going to do?”

  I toss the phone on top of the loaf of French bread and sling the two tote bags over my shoulder. “I’m going to quit.”

  “What?”

  “I’m quitting. I’m not putting myself or Koa through another day like that. He might’ve been a bit testy yesterday, but everything he said was one hundred percent correct.”

  “Summer…”

  I swing open the screen door and step onto the back porch. “It’s fine. He doesn’t need me slowing him down. He’s got so much riding on his shoulders this season. I’ll just get in the way if I stay on.”

  “But what will your grandparents say? This was their idea, right?”

  “Yeah…” I drop the bags to the floor as I fiddle with my keys. Letting them down is the one downside in all this. “But I’ll just explain that Koa’s better off without me.” I slip the key in the lock and push open the door. “Koa will back me up. I doubt he’d ever say anything to Gramps about yesterday on his own. He’s not catty. But he’ll agree if I beg hard enough.”

  I place the bags on the counter and walk back outside. “I hope we can still hang out after this, though.”

  “What? You and Koa?”

  “Yeah.” A little smile plays on my lips as I walk to the car to shut the doors. “He’s really nice and very chill. I never thought I’d meet someone so laid-back and real in Portland.”

  “Real?”

  I frown a little as I try to put words to my thoughts. “He’s genuine. Authentic. You know you’re getting the real thing when you’re with him and not some persona.”

  “So he’s comfortable being himself.”

  “Exactly,” I say, heading back toward the back porch. “Totally unlike the guys Charlene keeps throwing at me.”

  “I’m sure he’ll want to hang out. You two had a good time on your not-a-date date, right?”

  I laugh. “That’s one way of putting it, but yes, we did, and I’m sure he’s game for another…” I trail off as the sound of muffled voices reaches me. They’re coming from the front of the house near the study.

  “Summer?”

  “Sorry, I thought I heard something.”

  “Not your grandparents?”

  “Gramps is home, but I dropped Gran at her water aerobics course before going shopping. I’m not supposed to pick her up until—” I stop as one of the voices gets louder all of a sudden. “I think it’s two guys.”

  “A mystery! Let’s go investigate.”

  “No!”

  “Yes! Come on…”

  “Okay,” I say, reluctantly starting down the hall, “but I’m sure it’s nothing.” One thing becomes clear as I get closer to the end of the hall. The speakers are arguing. “Alright, one is definitely my grandpa,” I whisper into the phone.

  “Good. So it’s not an axe murderer.”

  “But he’s arguing with the other guy.”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t know or care.”

  “Oh come on!”

  “It’s none of my business.”

  “You’re not curious?”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re a bad influence—” I stop as two more things become clear. The argument is with Koa, and it’s over me.

  “…she’s a distraction. I can’t look after her and run a fleet!”

  Gramps’s softer, more measured tones cut through Koa’s tirade. “I know what you’re in charge of, and that’s why I’m having her help you.”

  “She’s not a help, though, and I’m sorry to be so blunt, but she’s a liability.”

  I clutch the phone to my ear as the blood drains from my face. What in the blazes is happening? Koa’s complaining about me to Gramps behind my back?

  I inch closer, avoiding the creaky floorboard to the right of the office door.

  “…she breaks or loses everything, she’s always in the wrong place, and she has zero knowledge of fishing.”

  “You’re there to help her. I thought I made that clear.”

  “I don’t have the time.”

  “Well, I’m asking you to make the time.”

  “How? I’m already pulling crazy hours to make our quota, and you know most of our customers want double their orders during the summer.” Quick footfalls tread against the floorboards as someone starts to pace. My guess is on blabbermouth Koa. “It’s impossible to do my job and coach your granddaughter. She’s a nuisance, and one of these days, she’s going to…to sink the boat!”

  “That’s enough,” Gramps says calmly. “I’ve heard you out, so now it’s my turn. Here, take seat.” I hear a heavy thud and picture Koa dramatically flinging himself into an armchair. “I understand what you’re saying, and I know you’re under a lot of stress, but Summer stays.” He cuts Koa off as he begins to argue. “No. That’s my decision. She’s your first mate this season, end of story.”

  I furrow my brow in the ensuing silence. I may be livid at Koa for trash-talking me to my own grandfather, but it doesn’t change the fact that everything he said is the truth. I’m a mess out there, so why is Gramps digging in his heels?

  I lean forward as the voices pick up again. “You’ll just have to make do,” Gramps replies. “You may not see it now, but Summer will be invaluable to you.”

  “I doubt it,” Koa grumbles. “She’s hopeless.”

  Heat rises up my neck and pools in my cheeks. I know I’m not perfect, but Koa didn’t have to be rude.

  “She already fell off the boat,” he continues. “What’s next? Setting it on fire?”

  I frown. Okay, that’s pushing it.

  “Alright now, son—”

  I hear the creak of the chair as Koa gets up. “Just don’t blame it on me when we lose money this season. Your granddaughter is a walking disaster.”

  OH NO HE DIDN’T. I spin on my heels and storm back down the hallway toward the kitchen, passing the forgotten groceries as I head for the back porch. In seconds I’m out the door, down the steps. I let out a heavy breath once I’ve reached the garden.

  The nerve! How d
are Koa talk about me like that to my own grandfather! I was only trying to help. I never said I was perfect, or even competent at fishing, so why is he being a complete asshole?

  I kick a knotty weed with my toe as I pace the grass. He’s got another thing coming if he thinks I’m just going to lie down and take it like a—

  “Summer?”

  I stop as my best friend’s voice reaches me. I glance down and realize that I never severed the call with Maddison. The call’s still on speaker phone, which means…

  “Oh my God,” I moan, clicking the speaker button and bringing the phone to my ear. “Did you hear everything?”

  Maddison hesitates. “Kinda.”

  I throw my head back and let out an explosive breath. “Of course you did. Of course! Now everyone knows what a total failure I am.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “You heard him. I’m a nuisance, a klutz!”

  “Okay.”

  I scowl into the phone. “What do you mean, okay?”

  “So you’re a klutz. Big deal. You didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Not from lack of trying, apparently.”

  “Oh stop it. From what I could tell, they were talking about a novice sailor who just wants to help her grandparents.”

  I stop pacing as her words sink in. She’s right—if you took away all the mistakes and blunders.

  “Is that a reason to quit?” she asks. “Because if there’s one thing I know about Summer Rae, it’s that she doesn’t quit.”

  I duck my head and glare at my feet. Darn it, she’s right.

  “And that’s why you’re not going to quit.”

  “I’m not?”

  “No! You’re going to use the humiliation and anger and embarrassment you feel right now—”

  “Wow, thanks,” I grumble.

  “—to learn. And you’re going to wipe that smug look off that boy’s face.”