Summer Heat

by Carly Phillips

  But before I can get over there and slaughter the man in cold blood, I see Summer get up, give him a brief you-fucking-idiot look…and then ram the heel of her palm into his face.

  Tom screams out in pain as blood starts gushing out of his nose.

  God, I love this woman.

  “I’ll sue you, you dumb bitch,” Tom cries out before turning to face me. “And I’m going to sue your ass, too!”

  The crowd of workers part for me as I go over to check on Summer. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m fine. I swear, Jason, I tried to walk away, but he came at me. He touched me first.”

  “I know. I saw him. Just like every other guy here did. You’re totally in the right here, baby.”

  “No, she’s not!” Tom spits out a mouthful of blood in Summer’s direction.

  And it takes everything in me not to fucking beat the dumbshit to a pulp. “Did you call security already?” I ask her while keeping one eye on Tom.

  “They’re on their way.”

  I turn back to Tom. “You can go ahead and try to sue me, but I’ll countersue. You’re trespassing after your termination, you just assaulted my project manager, forcing her to defend herself, and quite frankly, you’re just wasting me a fuckton of money on a Monday.”

  When he spits at me this time, I take a step forward to close the distance between us. The fucking guy is going to learn some goddamn manners.

  Summer shoots forward to stop me. “Don’t engage, Jason. I’ve been recording the whole thing.” She points at her cell phone in her pocket, the blinking red camera pointing right at Tom. “He’s got nothing. After I send this video to my lawyer, I’m also going to send it to the union. He’s done. Finished. A piece of shit like him has no business in our profession, and I’m going to make sure of it.”

  Damn it, she’s incredible.

  Finally, security shows up to haul Tom away. But he doesn’t go quietly. While they’re restraining him and dragging him over to their vehicle, he starts shouting at the top of his lungs, “I don’t care what you say, I’m going to sue. That slut created a hostile work environment here. She plays favorites with the guys, picking which ones she wants to go out drinking with while treating the rest of us like crap.”

  What the actual fuck?

  “Th-that’s not true,” she sputters. “I just hang out with the guys I know well.”

  “You mean the guys you’re fucking,” sneers Tom. “Everyone knows your reputation. The guys who kiss your ass and put up with your weird shit are the ones who get to stick around. But for the guys like me who won’t lower ourselves like that, you ride our asses on site every day. A lot of guys in the union that you’ve let go will back me. You’re going down, you skanky cunt.”

  For the first time ever, that confused look on her face makes me enraged.

  And apparently, I’m not the only one.

  Though Tom is already well out of earshot, and currently getting driven off the lot by security, Summer’s foreman still steps forward to defend her honor. To me. “Tom’s a dumb drunk who doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. Every guy she’s sent back to the union over the years deserved it. I can verify that.”

  “Me, too,” says Mikey, another veteran worker of hers.

  “She actually had to let me go once last year for screwing up so much,” chimes in a young college-looking kid I’ve seen do some good work. “And she told me exactly what I needed to improve on. She stayed after work to show me a few things before letting me go, and told me she was going to tell the union that I just needed a more training and hours in certain areas, but that I’d be welcome to come back afterward.”

  Seems I was worried for nothing. Her men here would clearly go to war for her, and that’s the only real reputation worth protecting in my opinion.

  “Look, guys,” I say. “You don’t need to convince me. I’m on her side here.”

  Summer comes up beside me to look at all her men. “Since Tom has just made my personal life your business, I want to clarify something,” she tells them. “Jason and I are in fact seeing each other. It’s a recent development, and it’s not going to affect the project in any way, shape, or form. I just want to be clear on that.”

  The silence following her announcement lasts exactly one second…

  Before all the guys start talking at once.

  “Jesus, took you two long enough,” hollers out Jack.

  “About damn time,” adds Mikey.

  A few dozen more similar comments echo around and Summer stares at all of them in shock. “You guys were expecting us to get together?”

  I’m mildly insulted that she sounds so surprised. We’re perfect for each other.

  “We were hoping, at least,” clarifies Jack. “You’re good for him. You make him way less ornery. Borderline friendly.”

  Bruce, one of the workers who was with the project before Summer took over, also puts in his two cents. “The poor guy has clearly been in love with you from the start. We all saw it.”

  The guys all nod their agreement.

  Well, hell. This is a surprise. Guess I didn’t do as good a job at hiding my feelings as I thought.

  “Plus,” adds Mikey, “you guys are a really good match. You both have a weird thing for trees.”

  “Yeah,” calls out an unknown voice in the crowd. “I noticed that, too. All last week, she’s been collecting old tree stumps and trunk slabs from around the mountains and throwing it in her truck, just like Jason does.”

  I look at her. “Is that so? You’ve been hauling wood?”

  “I…I saw the craftsmanship you put into your pieces at the cabin,” she says. “I could tell you really enjoyed building them so I just wanted to find some good pieces for you to work with.”

  That’s it. No more talking.

  I turn, pick her up, and throw her over my shoulder. “Speech over,” I call out to all the guys. “Get back to work. Jack, you’re in charge. Let the architect know when he gets here that I’ll reschedule our meeting for this afternoon or whenever he has time this week. Summer and I are taking the morning off to discuss a few things.”

  I know this isn’t all classically romantic. It’s damn near primitive. But this is the only way I know how to show how fucking much this woman means to me.

  Fortunately, the guys get it.

  They hoot and holler and cheer as I carry her off to my truck.

  When we get there, I put Summer down to study her reaction.

  She’s smiling.

  Thank fuck.

  “So, cabin or penthouse?” she asks as she plucks my keys from my pocket. An admittedly tight extraction given the current fit of my jeans. “Because I think you know my vote.”

  “I take it you’re driving?”

  “It’ll get us there faster.” Going up on her tiptoes, she gives me a shy, sexy kiss. “But,” she adds graciously, her cheeks warming to a fucking adorable shade of pink, “I’ll let you ‘drive,’ so to speak, once we get there.”

  Christ, I am never going to get enough of this woman.

  “Drive,” I tell her.

  We get to the cabin in record time.

  And as soon as we get out of the truck, she looks over at me and says out of the blue, “Okay, maybe I’m not exactly like one of the guys,” surprising a smile out of me.

  Seriously, I just never know what’s going to come out of those pretty little lips of hers. And I fucking love that. I want to keep getting surprised by her unique take on things; I want her to keep showing me all the quirky, interesting, cutely insane things about her that make her Summer.

  “I can’t throw you over my shoulder to make a big romantic gesture,” she says thoughtfully, seemingly genuinely put-out by the observation. “But, I would if I could.”

  I pull her into my arms. “Is that your way of telling me that you kind of, sort of like me too?”

  She smiles and says softly, “Yes.”

  Epilogue

 
; | JASON |

  - Ten Months Later -

  FRIDAY

  (Time: 11:49 p.m.)

  I hear a loud, turbulent knocking on my door, and it’s just the best fucking sound ever.

  The guys took Summer out tonight to celebrate the end of the project. They invited me, of course, but I wanted her to have her time with her crew. Plus, I had preparations to make.

  I check my watch. The guys held true to their word and made sure to have her back to me by midnight. Perfect timing. I take one final look around the penthouse to make sure I didn’t miss any details. It occurs to me then how little I miss this place.

  About six months ago, I finally convinced Summer to pack an overnight bag and stay with me at the cabin since it’s so close to the jobsite. Since then, we’ve spent most of our time up there, only returning here to the city a few times a week whenever one of us has a meeting in town.

  Frankly, I hate coming back here. Mostly because Summer insists on going to her place to “give me space” while she does laundry and whatever it is she does when she’s away from me.

  I don’t like it one bit. The penthouse feels like a fucking lonely-ass prison without her in it.

  So, I decided I’m going to do something about that. Tonight.

  That said, I do admit taking my time as I walk over to the door.

  I’m going to miss that knock.

  “Have fun with the guys tonight?” I ask as I open the door with a big smile.

  A neon pink paper held up to my face is her silent, befuddled reply.

  Grinning, I yank her inside before she gives my security folks a fun show.

  I manage to sneak in a quick kiss while she’s gaping at me, but she cuts it short and moves right on to the main festivities. “An eviction notice?! Seriously, Jason? I thought it was a prank until I realized my key no longer worked on the door!”

  “Here.” I hand her a key.

  She eyes it. “Is this the key to the new apartment lock?”

  I frown. Crazy woman. “Of course not. You saw the sign. You’ve been evicted.”

  She looks down at the key in utter bewilderment. “Then what in the world does this open?”

  “Actually, I’m not sure,” I confess. “Probably an old gym locker. I found it in one of my drawers. It’s more a visual effect. I’ve heard this is the sort of thing that accompanies the gesture.”

  “What gesture?”

  “The one where I ask you to move in with me,” I reply matter-of-factly.

  Her jaw drops.

  “Since the penthouse door opens with fingerprint and key code access, I thought this old key would be more romantic than a slip of paper with a bunch of numbers on it.”

  She’s still not talking. That’s okay. I’m a patient guy.

  She looks from the key to the eviction notice. “You’re certifiable, you know that, right?”

  I chuckle and tug her closer. “Takes one to know one.”

  “So let me get this straight. Instead of actually asking me to move in with you, you went and changed the locks to my loft while I was out with the guys?”

  “Actually, I changed your locks on Tuesday.”

  A look of understanding filters across her features. “So that’s why you wanted to stay at the cabin all week. And why you insisted I just go straight to the bar in my work clothes.”

  I shrug, thoroughly unapologetic about my methods. I was being romantic, damn it. “I also took the liberty of hiring you movers this week. Only the best of course.”

  Her lips twitch, but she holds onto her confounded glare. “That was presumptuous of you. What if my answer is no?”

  I drag off my shirt and pick her up by the waist, pleased as fuck when she automatically wraps her legs around me as I walk us over to the master bedroom.

  “I considered the possibility of you saying no. Knowing you, there was a fifty-fifty chance you were going to throw the key at my head and kick me in the balls.”

  Her body shakes with laughter in my arms. “So, this was a high-risk move then.”

  I stop smiling and speak from my heart. “This is the biggest risk I’ve ever taken. It’s also the only one I’ve ever been a hundred percent sure of.” I cup her cheek. “The only one I’ve ever been unwilling to walk away from.”

  Her breath catches and a tremulous smile touches her lips.

  I carry her over to the master closet to show her my other attempt at a romantic gesture.

  She looks around the closet and gives me that cute, confused look I adore. “When did you get so many white button-down shirts?” An entire row, plus some spares in the drawers as well.

  “Those are yours,” I say simply.

  I give her a second to realize I meant that literally for the ones hanging directly behind her.

  “You moved all my clothes in here already?!” She’s still fighting back a smile, but her voice does sound a tiny bit provoked.

  I attempt to mimic her cute and confused look. “I told you I hired the movers.”

  “Jason,” she growls.

  Ah hell, just like that, I’m fully hard. My name on her feisty lips always gets me there in no time flat. “Quit turning me on, woman. I’m trying to be romantic here.”

  She surveys her half of the closet, shaking her head in reluctant amusement. “It’s official. You are definitely crazier than I am.”

  “Not crazy. Proactive,” I argue. “That’s also why I got you all the extra shirts. I figure with you living with me full-time, I’m going to tear the buttons off at least this many of your sleep shirts.”

  The laugh she’s been suppressing finally breaks through. “That actually makes sense,” she says as she roams around the closet to take inventory of how thorough the movers were. They were very thorough. Her old apartment is now completely vacant.

  After one full lap, she turns to face me. “Since all my clothes are here…” she trails off before slowly taking off every inch of clothing she’s wearing.

  I immediately forget what we’re talking about.

  She pulls one of the new shirts off the hanger and slips it on.

  While I’m not loving that she’s no longer naked, my cock is practically leaking with precum from the look she’s giving me as she buttons the shirt and starts backing out of the closet.

  I lose the rest of my clothes and somehow manage to find my brain function again when those sexy little tits and sweet pussy of hers are covered up. “Is this you saying yes to moving in?”

  “Not sure yet,” she draws out as she taps a finger on her chin and then trails it down the front of her now fully buttoned-up shirt.

  Maddening little temptress.

  “On one hand, I’m going to miss having you as my landlord,” she says thoughtfully.

  I practically roll my eyes at that. “Please. I did nothing as your landlord. You never once called me to fix something in your loft.” Not just because I made damn sure her place was perfect before she moved in, but because she’s actually handier at interior fixtures than I am, what with all her residential construction experience. “We both know your neighbors call on you more than the super to fix things.”

  Really, she’s the best tenant I’ve ever had.

  She tilts her head to the side. “It’s just…a lot of change.” There’s a ring of truth to that, I can hear it. Thankfully, she doesn’t sound sad, just reflective. “I’ll be losing you as a boss and a landlord all in the same week.”

  “But you like your new boss,” I reason. Not entirely cheerfully.

  While I’m thrilled that my buddy Logan went behind my back to hire Summer to handle the million-dollar expansion of his rock climbing gym, I’m jealous as hell of the idea of them spending so much time together in the coming months. Though I hate to admit it, Logan’s a good-looking son of a bitch. Plus, he has a cute as hell daughter.

  For most women we meet, Logan having a kid, and the fact that I have a billion or two more in my bank than he does would be a deterrent. But for a sweetheart like Summer
, who doesn’t have a materialistic non-maternal bone in her body, Logan would be a compatible catch. He’s less ornery than me. And he has more experience with the romance stuff, seeing as how he was the picture-perfect husband to his high school sweetheart until the day she passed away.

  Even more reason to get the woman to move the hell in with me.

  Then afterward, we can start on making some cute kids of our own.

  One thing at a time, Steele.

  “You’re right,” she concedes. “I do like my new boss very much. But I loved my old boss. I’m going to miss working for him.”

  “Love. Present tense. Not ‘loved,’” I correct, feeling my heart kick around my chest at the thought. Hearing her say she loves me just never gets old. “And I’m going to miss you working for me, too, sweetheart.” I pull her into my arms. “That’s why I evicted you. Figured I’d give myself a new role in your life. One with a little more permanence.”

  “I guess ‘roommate’ would be a nice upgrade from ‘crazy landlord,’” she teases, messing with me even more by toying with the hem of her sleep shirt and flashing me that pretty little pussy.

  I growl at the sight and reply without thinking, “Fiancé, not roommate.”

  She stills. “What?”

  I see her nipples harden to distractingly sexy peaks under the thin fabric, and I just plain lose it. In one fluid motion, I rip her new shirt open, practically howling at the moon over the satisfying ping of buttons hitting the floor as I lift her up and sink her down onto my waiting cock.

  So goddamn perfect. Every time.

  It’s not until I’m fully seated in her warm, slick pussy that my brain starts to un-muddle.

  And then it hits me. “Damn it.” I start mentally kicking my dumb ass for not having more self-control. “I’m so sorry, Summer. I botched this up. I had a whole thing planned tonight.”

  She wraps her arms around me and gives me a deep, sexy kiss. By the end of it, every muscle in my body is locked up, and she’s sucking the sanity out of me by pulsing her tight little pussy around my shaft. It’s taking all the strength I possess not to move around too much and accidentally come inside her. Because really, at this point, it wouldn’t take a whole lot.