Not Over You (Holland Springs)

by Valentine, Marquita

  He grinned. “I’m still going to kiss you.”

  Then his head dipped once more, and she met him halfway. Unlike the kiss in her store, this time when their lips met, it was slow and easy. Sweet and gentle, while knocking down some of the many barriers she’d erected against him and everyone else who dared to see the real her.

  Of their own accord, her fingers sank into his hair. The strands were thick and heated at the scalp, cool and silky at the tips. He moaned a little when she nipped at his full bottom lip, so she did it again, smiling when it elicited another sound of pleasure.

  Until, that is, he took control, nudging her mouth open and plunging his tongue inside. Her angel kissed like the devil. He made her insides twist up in tight pleasure, made heat and desire pool between her thighs. He made her nipples tighten, and her wish that there was nothing between them, not even the cotton fabric of her borrowed dress.

  His hands moved down her shoulders, cupping her elbows and sliding lower still, until he touched her wrists and laced his fingers through hers. Then he put their joined hands in her lap and simply kissed her.

  He kissed her and held her hands like they had all the time in the world, and weren’t sitting in his truck, in public, while customers walked in and out of the quaint-looking restaurant.

  Finally, finally, he pulled away, but kept their hands entwined. He lowered his forehead to hers. “Say something completely ridiculous so I can kiss you again,” he teased.

  The words shimmered in her mind, but she refused to look at them again. She refused to acknowledge that an emotion like that could still exist between them, after all this time.

  After all this time, could be it true that she wasn’t over him? She gave herself a mental shake. Of course she was over him, because she’d never been under him.

  Besides, she had a plan, and she was sticking to it. Whatever it took to get her family back, she would do it, even if she had to walk backwards through the burning fires of hell while wearing gasoline panties. Which Holland Springs might end up becoming, once her sister found out her plans.

  “I’m hungry,” she said, carefully sitting back and watching his reaction.

  His vibrant blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Well, I did say I’d make sure your every desire was met.” Letting go of her hands, he sat back, and then grabbed his keys.

  Flipping down the visor, she pretended to check her makeup in the mirror, but she kept stealing glances at Gabriel while he got out of his truck and walked around it to her side.

  “Stop staring before he catches you,” she scolded herself, before quickly reapply her lipstick. “Nothing wrong with small talk. Nothing wrong with enjoying yourself and having a nice time with the man you plan on marrying, and then divorcing for his own good.” She got a queasy feeling in her stomach, but she flipped her hair over her shoulder and put on a bright smile as her door opened.

  He held out his hand to help her down. She took it, snagging her purse on the way. “Your eyes are pretty. The blue dress really makes them stand out.”

  She wasn’t vain, nor had she ever lacked in compliments from the opposite sex, but his simple statement about her eyes made her want to preen in front of a mirror to see if what he said was true.

  To her horror, she felt her cheeks heat. “Thank you. Blue is my favorite color.”

  “I know, and not just any blue but dark blue. Indigo. ”

  The color of your eyes, angel. “Green is yours,” she said, not to be outdone.

  “Do you remember that time we tried to build a teepee, after I learned about the Bear River Indians during the Boy Scouts’ Jamboree?” he asked. “Darn near burned down the woods with our campfire.”

  “I’d forgotten about that,” she said with a laugh. “We must have worked on perfecting that teepee for a month, but rain would still manage to sneak inside.”

  Once again, he placed his palm on the small of her back, making her feel safe and secure as they walked up the front porch steps and inside the restaurant.

  “One of us, and I’m not naming names, got a little too happy with making a really big fire,” he said with a wink, and then checked in with the hostess.

  “How else would we roast hotdogs and eat marshmallows, or stay warm, when winter came?” she pointed out, the memory of them as children making her smile. “We were going to live there, on the shores of the Pamlico, like the Bear River People. I’d wear flowers in my hair and fish for us, while you did the dangerous hunting and watched the kids.”

  At the mention of children, her smile fell. For a little while, the memories of their childhood had been a nice way to pass the time while they waited, but the present would always find a way to intrude.

  “You always looked pretty with flowers in your hair.” Gabriel gently tugged on a curl resting on her bare shoulder.

  Goose bumps appeared, and she didn’t dare look at her date. She couldn’t bear what might be in his gaze. Mercifully, the hostess appeared and led them into the main dining room.

  They were seated at a table for two by the window. Lazy ceiling fans spun in slow circles, while servers in crisp white shirts, long, white aprons, and black pants wove in and out of the room, balancing trays on their fingertips.

  “Thank you,” Summer said as the hostess handed each of them a menu. She opened one, scanned the first few items, and almost set it facedown on the table.

  Had he taken her here to impress her and flaunt his money, because he thought that was something she desired? Or had he taken her here because it was romantic, like Jemma Leigh had said?

  Knowing what she did about Gabriel and Jemma Leigh, it had to be because it was considered romantic. If Gabriel wanted to show off how much money he had, he would be driving a Corvette or some other kind of flashy car most people would be horrified to learn she didn’t like.

  Give her a truck any day of the week. Or one of those VW Bugs. She did like those, especially the convertible ones, in bright green.

  “The salads look good,” she said, trying to keep the conversation pleasant, yet neutral.

  “Steak and lobster look better.”

  “Hmm.” Her gaze travelled to the other side of the menu. “Too many to choose from.”

  “What do you think of Bluebelle?” he asked, setting his menu to the side.

  “Looking for some utter nonsense for me spout?” she couldn’t help but say, and then quickly turned her attention back to the menu. It wouldn’t do for her to flirt with him. Kissing was one thing, but flirting was extremely bad for both of them.

  Oh, who was she kidding? It was all bad, because it all felt so very good to do with Gabriel.

  “Maybe. Too bad I can’t read your mind,” he said, raising his brows.

  She looked at him over her menu, thinking it was a lucky thing he couldn’t read her wayward thoughts, but she still couldn’t help but ask, “Why is that?”

  Another one of those wicked grins covered his face, stealing her breath and making her pulse race. “Because I’m ninety-nine percent sure your lips would look all bee-stung when I was done with you.”

  She sucked in a breath, her breasts rising to the neckline of her dress, and Gabriel noticed. His gaze actually dropped there, for only a couple of seconds, before his blue eyes found hers. “Saw something you liked?”

  “I did.”

  The server chose that moment to take their order. Summer had no idea what she told the man, only that Gabriel’s heavy-lidded gaze never left her face. His knee brushed hers as she handed the menu to the server, and she gasped.

  Emotionally off-balance, she slid her chair back.

  Gabriel frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fine.” She swallowed that lie, and then spouted off another one. “Just thought you needed more leg room, is all.” What was wrong with her? This wasn’t how she handled Gabriel. This wasn’t how she kept him at a distance. She should be the one touching his knee. The one running her foot up his leg.

  He made a noise, his frown deepeni
ng, before he excused himself from the table. She watched him go, watched him cross the room, and head to the front of the restaurant where the restrooms were located.

  After a couple of minutes of people watching, she stared at the ocean, at the waves as they rolled onto the shore, wishing she could be a part of it. Wishing she could dive in and float away. She could practically feel the cool water lap at her body, the weightlessness… the blessed quiet. Would anyone notice if she drifted away? Would anyone care if she had never come back to Holland Springs?

  Rose hadn’t known the exact day Summer would appear at Strawberry Grove. Jemma Leigh confessed she’d made the whole thing up, but that whenever Rose and her husband would go out of town, the letter and key were placed in Jemma Leigh’s hands just in case.

  Certainly if her sister had known, then Rose would have also known what Summer’s plans were all along, and wouldn’t have been so welcoming or forgiving. Summer wouldn’t have been, not one bit.

  Or would she? Would either of them? Maybe the bonds of sisterhood were stronger than their past, than the reasons why Summer did what she did, and her sisters would accept her for it. Though, Skye still hadn’t returned from Colorado and no one knew when or if she ever would.

  Maybe Skye had been the smartest of them all by moving away to pursue her dreams, while Summer and Rose couldn’t help but come back to Holland Springs, no matter what lay before them.

  She sighed.

  The flame of the candle danced and she held her hand over it, palm facing down. Burn my past away. Burn all that used to be me. Burn it all away. The candle seemed to grow hotter and brighter as she chanted the words in her head.

  Burn the old me to the ground.

  Gabriel returned to the table just in time to save Summer’s hand from catching on fire. Leaning over the table, he grabbed her wrist and moved her hand away.

  She jumped, her brown eyes going wide at the sight of him. “Angel,” she breathed, and for once, the word sounded like an endearment.

  “Are you hurt?” Turning her palm over, he tenderly brushed his thumb over the red spot in the middle. He kneeled beside her, bringing her hand to his mouth and kissing the center. “Playing with fire will always leave a mark.”

  “I wasn’t playing.” She removed her hand from his grip, but he didn’t move from his spot.

  “What were you thinking? I watched you for a full minute, before rushing over here.”

  Her dark eyes turned wary. “Nothing to get me kissed.”

  Yet another reason he’d excused himself from the table. He was acting like a teenager with self-control issues. Summer deserved more than to be pawed by him at every opportunity. She deserved more than him finding any excuse to touch her hair, her shoulder, or hand. She deserved a gentleman, in every way, and it was his job to be one.

  “Are you having a good time?”

  “Yes.”

  Another one-word answer. He exhaled and stood. As he sat in his chair, he asked, “After dinner, would you like to go for a walk on the beach?”

  She nodded, and his heart sank more.

  Thankfully, the server brought the appetizers, and then the entrees as soon as they had finished the seafood bisques.

  Gabriel had never had such a quiet meal with a date, and not just any date, but Summer, the woman who was his childhood sweetheart. The woman, who at one time, he’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and the woman he’d thought he’d never see again, after he’d helped her through the heart-breaking decision of giving up Ivy.

  He paid the bill, and began to say something to Summer, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her complete attention was on the ocean, as the sky faded from pale blue to gold and orange, then violet and indigo. She’d always been a lover of nature.

  He simply gazed at her, at the rapturous, yet vulnerable look on her face. This was the girl he remembered. This was the girl who held him spellbound, not the woman who’d become hard and cynical, without joy.

  A pale curl shifted, drawing his attention to her neck. It was slender and strong, like her. Everything about her looks had that duality about it. Slender yet strong, soft yet unyielding… sex kitten yet girl-next-door with her big, brown eyes and pouty lips…his best friend yet his worst enemy.

  And now…now she would become his wife.

  His wife.

  “I’m ready to walk on the beach and talk about our favorite positions, and what turns us on,” she said, her smile so sweet it gave him a toothache.

  He blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, you don’t have to tell me your favorite. I already know it—missionary style,” she said with a firm nod. “It’s the only one allowed, right? Guess I’ll have to get used to that.”

  “I refuse to be baited by you, not anymore. Need a verbal punching bag—then here I am,” he said flatly. “But not in public. I’m taking you home, where you can make whatever kind of remark you want. However, this changes nothing. We’re going on another date tomorrow, and the next day, until we can have an entire conversation without resorting to our old ways of handling each other.”

  Yes, he had to include himself in that last part, because he wasn’t perfect and even if she thought that about him, he knew it wasn’t true, and knew what he was capable of doing. It was only fair to have the same expectations placed upon him as well.

  Was that a glimmer of relief in her eyes? Had he calculated correctly for once?

  He stood, and held out his hand. For a second, he half-expected her to bite him, but she took his hand, lacing her fingers with his, and allowed him to lead her outside to his truck. Once they were back at Carolina Dreams, he opened the door on her side, and walked her around back to where the truck he’d let her borrow was parked.

  “Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight, angel?” she cooed. “I’m pretty sure I said something ridiculous before we left.”

  It hit him then, like a punch to the head. She wasn’t only trying to keep him at arm’s length. “Were you trying to get me to kiss you, sweetheart?”

  “Like I have to resort to tricks for that to happen,” she scoffed.

  “You didn’t answer.”

  She flipped her hair over one shoulder. “Yes, I did, but you didn’t bother to read between the lines.”

  He rocked back on his heels, actually enjoying this bit of sparring. “Why don’t you help me out? Sometimes men need a little direction.”

  She snorted, actually snorted, and he wanted to kiss her for that, because it made her seem so real and touchable. And his. “I swear, Gabriel, it’s like you’re begging me to say something so you’ll have an excuse to kiss me.”

  “What can I say? I love kissing you.”

  He waited for her final blow, for her to make a reference to all the men she’d enjoyed kissing, but her gaze skittered away.

  “I love kissing you, too,” she murmured.

  He kissed her cheek softly. “Thank you.”

  “I wasn’t being ridiculous.”

  He stroked her satiny skin, right along her jawline. “I know.”

  “Oh.” She pressed her lips together, and then dug her keys out of her purse. “I need to go home. Blackbeard needs his beauty sleep.” As if on cue, Blackbeard appeared out of nowhere, rubbing against Gabriel’s legs.

  “Do you think he’ll visit us, once you move in with me?” he asked, and panic flared in her eyes.

  She shrugged, glancing away from him. “It’s up to him. He does what he wants.”

  “Want me to follow you home, to make sure you make it all right?”

  “No.”

  “At least let me wait for you to start up the truck and be on your way,” he said. He lived in the opposite direction of Summer, and since he wasn’t a stalker, he needed to make sure she was safe in town.

  “Suit yourself.” Pulling out the keys, she unlocked the door and climbed inside. Blackbeard jumped in behind her, and she shut the door.

  He waited until she buckled on her seatbelt, locked the door, and adjus
ted her mirror. Then he waited even longer while she started up the truck’s engine and fiddled with the radio.

  “She’s making me wait on purpose,” he said with a shake of his head, but he didn’t get angry. Instead, he patiently waited with a small smile on his face while she came to the conclusion that he really wasn’t going anywhere until after she did, and finally drove away.

  “You might think you’re the winner, Summer Jean,” he said to himself as he walked to his truck, “but in the end, we’ll both be happy with the outcome.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Over the next couple of weeks, much to Summer’s dismay and secret joy, Gabriel kept his promise to take her out every night, until they had a meal without them falling back on old habits.

  Only, new habits emerged.

  For one, she teased him and he teased her back. If she were honest, she would call it flirting, but she couldn’t be honest with herself right now, because honesty would lead to examining her heart.

  There was no telling what she would find there.

  Not that she had time to examine anything, because Gabriel had taken over her schedule of nothing but work by actually dating her.

  They tasted prize-winning jams and jellies at local fairs named after fruits and small woodland creatures, went tubing at a river festival, and held hands during an outdoor play.

  They’d eaten hummus and pita points while listening to a jazz band perform at a park in Wilmington, and had spent one afternoon riding the Swan Quarter ferry to Ocracoke Island.

  He’d also started coming to Carolina Dreams right before closing time, to ask about her day and plan their next great adventure.

  It was as though he was trying to fit years of dating, years of what they should have had together, into a matter of days.

  “Don’t you want to touch my trophy?” she asked, waving a stuffed fox at him she’d won for having the loudest whistle at the Red Fox Festival.

  “The fox says put him out of his misery.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s been properly stuffed.”

  “I don’t care what it is, that fox used to be alive. Don’t touch me with it.” He stepped away from her, and she laughed so hard that her stomach began to ache. “I could be allergic for all you know.”