Her Hottest Summer Yet

by Ally Blake

  The weather was wild out there. So much so she knew the only reason the driver had been stupid enough to keep going was the double fare she’d promised at the end of it.

  Claude—wearing a moth-eaten ancient faux bearskin over her head and holding what looked mighty like a cavegirl club—quickly shut the door behind them. “He went looking for you.”

  Avery stopped wringing water from her hair and looked at Claude, who was by then trying to drag her into the resort. “For me? Why?”

  Claude looked at her as if she were nuts. Then when Avery continued to be daft said, “Because the woman he loves was about to fly away and out of his life? The man might be stubborn as an ass, but he’s not stupid.”

  “He told you he loved me?”

  Avery took a step back towards the door before Claude took her by the upper arms and looked her dead in the eye. “Storm, Avery. Everything else can wait.”

  She looked over Claude’s shoulder to the empty foyer beyond. The lights were low, the place dark as the sun was completely blocked out by the storm. “Will you be okay?”

  “We’ll be fine. She’s a tough old place. Strong. We’re a safety point,” Claude said. “Wine cellar, foods storage bunkers. Enough room to fit a hundred-odd people underground.”

  Avery gave her a hug and without further ado walked out into the storm.

  Her clothes slapped against her limbs and the sand in the swirling winds bit at her skin. The double row of palm trees lining the beach path were swaying back and forth with such ferocity it was amazing they weren’t uprooted.

  She was halfway down the stairs before she realised the cab had gone.

  Dammit.

  Dragging her slippery hair out of her face, she took two more steps down to the path, looked up the deserted beach and down, before making to turn around, go inside. To dry out her phone. To call—

  Which was when she saw a figure huddled under a tree in the front yard of a cottage overlooking the beach. A wet, bedraggled, speckled four-legged figure.

  “Hull?” she called. The dog glanced up then sank deeper against the tree. She called louder this time. “Hull! Come on, boy. Come inside!”

  But Hull just sat there, in the squall. This dog who hated water. What was he doing out in this craziness?

  Lifting the back of her shirt over her head, she jogged down the steps, down the footpath, and into the front yard, slowing in case Hull was hurt. In case the hurt made him lash out instead of accepting comfort. She knew his owner, after all.

  “Come on, boy,” she said, sliding her arm around his wet neck. He whimpered up at her, his tail giving a double beat against the sodden ground. But he dug his heels in and bayed up at the window of the house whose yard he was camped in where the curtains flickered ominously.

  When she realised he had no intention of moving, Avery sat down next to him, the shade of the tree giving them no respite at all from the onslaught. Soon she was soaked through to the skin. A little later she began to shiver.

  “What are we doing here, Hull?” she asked, when the rain got so hard she could no longer see the beach at all.

  He whimpered and turned to look forlornly up at the house outside which they’d camped. A small, white, flat-fronted brick cabin, with a picture of a familiar dog in an oval frame on the front door.

  “No, Hull. Seriously?”

  A storm was raging about them, and here Hull sat, crooning outside Petunia’s house, pining for his love.

  “Where did you come from, kid?” she asked, hugging him tighter. “I can’t even get your owner to admit he cares for me at all.”

  Hull gave Avery’s hand a single lick. She ran her fingers down his wet snout. And there they sat, getting drenched, ducking out of the way of the occasional falling branch, watching in bemused silence as lawn furniture went tumbling down the street. Till Avery began to fear for more than her poor heart.

  Yet it all faded away when she heard the throaty growl of Jonah’s car before she saw it come around the bend. She waved, and the car pulled to a halt in the middle of the street, the wheels spinning as he ground to a sudden sodden halt. It screeched into Reverse, backed up, then mounted the kerb as it pulled up across the driveway.

  As Jonah leapt from the car Avery pulled herself to standing, her legs frozen solid. She tripped as she tried to walk, her legs cramped into a bend.

  Jonah was there to catch her.

  “Jonah,” she said, wanting to tell him, to ask him, to show him...

  But then she was in his arms and he was kissing her and bliss sank through her limbs. He kissed her as if his life depended upon it. As if she were his breath, his blood, his everything.

  When he pulled back, he drew her into his chest and rested his chin atop her head. They both breathed heavily, rain thundering down upon them, but the sound of his heart was the only thing she heard.

  When she looked up, he held her face between his hands. Emotion stormed across her eyes, too deep, too violent to catch.

  “I found your dog.”

  “I see that,” he said and his eyes smiled as they roved over her face, raking in every inch as if making sure she was really real.

  “I rescued him, in fact.”

  “You rescued him? From a little rain?”

  She slapped his chest, her hand bouncing off the hard planes before settling there, her nails scraping his wet T-shirt, her heart kicking against her ribs. “From being sued by a crazy woman.”

  Jonah’s brow furrowed. Avery tilted her head towards the cottage. “Hull’s girl lives here.”

  Jonah’s eyes finally left hers to take in the front door with its picture of a tiny, near bald, shivering scrap of flesh that was barely rat, much less a dog. Jonah’s eyes swung back to her, and he used both hands, both big, warm, rough hands, to gently peel the lank hair from her cheeks.

  When Avery began to shiver harder it had nothing to do with being thoroughly drenched. And as his hands roved down her arms, and up again, she was heading very quickly from lusciously warm to scorching hot.

  But knowing he’d need encouragement, a place to feel safe to tell her what she needed to hear, Avery nudged. “Is that why you were driving around? You were worried about Hull in the rain and all?”

  Jonah breathed deep through his nose, his clear grey eyes glinting. “I trusted he’d take care of himself. You, on the other hand—”

  “What about me?” she said, rearing back. Not far, though. Enough to show her chagrin while still being plastered well and truly against him. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  “I know. You’re plenty tough, Avery Shaw. And yet I can’t seem to fight the urge to look after you. In fact, I’m done. Done fighting it. Done fighting how I feel about you.”

  Avery swallowed hard while her belly flipped and started singing the Hallelujah chorus.

  “Avery, I barely got halfway to the airport when I heard there was an accident. The thought that it might have been you, that you might be hurt—there are no words to explain how that felt. I called Claude. And she said you were here. And I can’t possibly explain the relief.”

  Try, she thought. “Why were you going to the airport?”

  “To find you, woman. To haul you back here. Or, hell, to go with you, or ask if you’d care to try living trans-continentally, if that’s what you wanted. So long as you were where you belong. With me.”

  “You’d leave the cove? For me?”

  “Not for you, Miss Shaw. With you... If it meant being able to do this—” he kissed the corner of her mouth “—and this—” he kissed the other corner “—and also this—” he placed his mouth over hers with infinite gentleness, infinite subtlety, until Avery felt as if the only thing holding her cells together were his touch.

  When she shivered so hard her teeth rattled, Jonah scooped
her up and deposited her in the back seat of his car. He joined her there. The curtains in the cottage continued to flicker, yet Hull kept up his vigil beneath the tree.

  In the dry hollow of the car, Avery turned to face Jonah. Water glistened in his gorgeous curls, turned his lashes into dark spiky clumps, and gave his lips a seductive sheen that made her clench in deep-down places.

  Raindrops still sluiced down her nose, running in rivulets beneath her now-muddy clothes. She was bedraggled. And yet he didn’t seem to mind. In fact he was looking at her as if she were his moon and stars.

  And then he had to go and completely tear her apart by saying, “I’m in love with you, Avery Shaw. And even if you live on the other side of the world, I’m going to keep on loving you. And if you think that’s something you can live with, then we have some figuring out to do.”

  Could she live with it? With being loved by this man? This man who made her feel so much she couldn’t contain it?

  She threw herself at him so thoroughly she banged her knee, rocking the car. But pain was way in the background beneath the million other far more wonderful sensations pelting her all over as she kissed the man she loved for all that she was worth.

  “I’m assuming this means you’re all in favour?” he asked, when he came up for air.

  “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you!” she said. Laughing, shouting, fogging up the windows with all that beautiful, beautiful kissing.

  * * *

  The storm disappeared as quickly as it had come.

  When Avery and Jonah left the cocoon of the car—having broken several public indecency laws—they managed to encourage poor Hull away, and the three of them made their way over to the beach to check out the damage only to find the cove looking as if nothing had happened at all.

  But everything had happened.

  Jonah took Avery’s hand and pulled her down onto a patch of sand in the shade of the palms. Her cheeks hurt from smiling and with a sigh she looked out over the waves of the Pacific. It was a completely different ocean from the one back home, and yet it didn’t feel so far from everything at all. Because everything she wanted more than anything else was right here.

  EPILOGUE

  Avery stood outside the Tropicana Nights, eyes closed, arms outstretched, soaking up the blissful warmth that made this part of the world so famous.

  Jonah grunted behind her as he dragged her bags out of the car. She had more luggage this time; she was staying longer, after all. Forever, in fact.

  “Avery!” Claude said, running down the stairs, her Tropicana Nights uniform shirt brighter than the sun, her clipboard flapping at her side, Hull at her ankles.

  “God, am I glad to have you back! This dog of yours pined the entire month you were gone.”

  Hull came bounding up, spry as a puppy, with a big new collar around his neck. Avery checked the label—a doggy bone with his name engraved into the front. On the back, Property of Jonah North.

  “Want one?” Claude said low enough for only her to hear with a grin when Avery motioned to the tag. “How was your holiday?” she added, this time for all to hear. “Did I say how glad I am you’re back? Did Jonah grumble the whole time?”

  Yeah, Jonah had grumbled, Avery thought, turning to watch him crouch to take his dog—their dog—in a huge cuddle. Hull’s tongue lolled out of his mouth as Jonah boxed him about the ears, and when Jonah laughed the dog wagged his tail so hard he near dented the car.

  New York was so grey, Jonah had noted, and too cold, too many people, air so thick you could choke on it, the Hudson a poor substitute for the Pacific Ocean. But then again she found his particular brand of manly grumpiness kind of hot, so she was all good.

  Also, he’d completely charmed her mother, who seemed to have come blinking into the light now that her father had truly moved on. Jonah had kept toe to toe with her dad, talking baseball stats as if he were born to it. As for her father’s new fiancée, she’d turned out to be pretty nice. It had been no shock when half her friends fell in lust with Jonah on the spot, and he’d let her take him to shows, and to all the tourist traps, and when they’d stayed at the top of the Empire State Building for hours it had been his idea.

  Then the Yankees won their first three exhibition games three out of three, which pretty much trumped the rest.

  “The place is looking great, Claude.”

  “Isn’t it?” She looked up at the freshly whitewashed facade, gleaming in the sunlight.

  “We heard there were more storms while we were away.”

  “Mere rain. Though it gave me the chance to do a vampire theme party in the bunker. I sent Luke the link to the blog post with all the photos. I’ve yet to hear back.”

  “So the stay of execution is still in play?”

  “He’s given me a year. So the work’s only just begun!”

  “I love work. Bring on the work.” Knowing how close Claude had come to losing her business, her home, she’d forced Claude to hire her without pay—she had a trust fund after all, and no longer any compunction about using it. Not for such a good cause.

  “The press we had after the party was unbelievable, and the website guy you set me up with is awesome, and we have bookings flying in. This place is going to be as amazing as it was in its heyday.”

  “More amazing! Is Luke back to help?”

  Claudia frowned so hard her cheeks pinked up in an instant. “Forget about Luke. All we have to concern ourselves with is making this resort the premier family destination in Far North Queensland.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  “Now, I’ve ordered a whole bunch of uniforms in your size—”

  “Oh, not necessary, really. I’ve brought so many great clothes—”

  “Nonsense. You are one of the team now. Uniform’s a must. All about the brand.”

  Avery grimaced at Jonah, who grinned back, and even the thought of spending her working hours in Hawaiian print shirts and polyester capris couldn’t dampen her spirits. Because, oh, she loved that smile. And the man behind it. The way those deep grey eyes of his saw through her, right to the most vulnerable heart of her, and loved her in a way she’d never dared hope she could be.

  “Claude,” Jonah called, his voice deep with warning.

  Claudia looked over Avery’s shoulder at him. “Hmm?”

  “Leave the woman alone. The last time she tried to do anything strenuous while dopey with jet lag she nearly drowned.”

  “I did no such thing,” Avery started. “I’m—”

  “An excellent swimmer,” Jonah joined in. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Fine, yes, of course!” Claudia said, backing up. She clicked her fingers at Cyrus.

  The lanky kid grabbed a trolley and ambled over to Jonah’s car, heaving the bags into place. Cheek twitching, Jonah dragged them all off again and set about doing it right.

  “Are you sure you’re right to stay here?” Claudia asked as both women watched Jonah at work, arm muscles bunching, teeth gritting, the hem of his T-shirt lifting to showcase the most stunning set of abs ever created.

  “Of course!” Avery said nice and loud. “Wasn’t it you who said we have a lot of work to do?”

  “Yeah, right,” Claude muttered. “I give it a week before you’re living at his place with that huge dog of his sleeping on your feet.”

  “Yeah,” Avery said with a grin. Mention in passing the spotting of a man-eating spider in her room perhaps, and he’d turn up and throw her over his shoulder and whisk her away to his castle in the forest like her own personal knight. “I can’t wait.”

  Claude scrunched up her nose. “Each to their own.”

  Claude grabbed one arm of the trolley and dragged it and Cyrus along the path around the side of the resort to settle Avery back home.

  Home.


  Sea air tickled Avery’s nose, heat poured and prickled all over her skin. She watched Jonah lift his face to the sky, the Queensland sun glowing against his golden-brown skin, infusing him with life.

  Yeah, her guy might have wowed ’em in New York City, but he wasn’t built for city living. He was built for this place. This raw, majestic, lovely, warm place. Lucky for them she could handle living in paradise.

  Lucky for Avery, Jonah was also built for loving her.

  Sensing he was being watched, he tipped his head to look at her. All dark curls and strong jaw, might and muscle and heat and hotness. And hers.

  Feeling like she was sixteen all over again, full of hope and love and zeal, Avery ran and jumped into his arms. He caught her, swung her around, and held her tight as his lips met hers in a kiss that sank through her like melted butter.

  “I love you, Jonah North, and don’t you ever forget it.”

  “Yeah,” he said, his arms wrapped about her tugging her tighter still. “Couldn’t if I tried. Now, come on, princess, time to get you to bed.”

  “Feisty.”

  “Insurance. I was serious about you getting some sleep after last time. I wouldn’t put it past you to get it in your head to try parasailing for the first time. Hell, I might even strap you into bed so you don’t do yourself damage.”

  “Extra spicy feisty.” The effect of her sass was dampened when the last word was swallowed by a massive yawn.

  As they walked through Reception Avery noticed at the edge of her mind that the place was busier than the last time she was there. Not bustling, but better.

  Isis gave her a cheery wave. She waved back before her mind focused in on more important things, like the fact that Jonah’s hand had moved down her waist until his fingers were at her hip.

  Cyrus was leaving the Tiki Suite as they arrived. Yawning again, she fished through her wallet for a tip, came up with a twenty and tucked it into Cyrus’s pocket, then trudged to the centre of the room and fell back on the bed with a thud.