Stacey Joy Netzel Boxed Set

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  I stepped back with a jerk of my head toward the bar. “Wanna say goodbye to anyone?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll see them tomorrow afternoon for bowling.”

  Without really thinking about it, I rested my hand on the small of her back as we walked toward the door. Her body heat transferred through the material of her dress to my fingers. I quickly removed my hand, flexing my fingers as I collected our coats. When I rejoined her at the door, she sighed and slid her phone into her purse. The look on her face made me wonder if Jenna had succeeded in changing her mind.

  “Everything okay?”

  Her quick nod and smile erased my hesitation. I held her coat so she could slide her arms into the sleeves, and then I rested my hands on her shoulders. In one breath, I was hit by the sudden urge to put my arms around her and pull her back against me…just a moment to hold her close, feel the heat of her body against mine.

  I resisted. I didn’t want her to think that was the only reason I’d asked her to stay at my place. Sure, as a guy, the thought was there in the back of my mind—maybe hers, too, it seemed—but I truly wanted to do something to make up for what I’d done in the past.

  Besides, we lived states apart. Over a thousand miles. It’s not like there was any future for us other than the next reunion in five or ten years. Best to keep things as friends, since I was pretty confident tonight had re-established that connection.

  I held open the door and tried to stand aside, but she pushed me through first. I thought she was being independent, until snow hit my face and I realized she was walking in my boot prints to avoid the couple more inches of snow that’d fallen since the plow had cleared the parking lot.

  “This snow is ridiculous,” she complained when we reached the truck. “Didn’t Wisconsin get the memo that it’s May?”

  “Apparently not.” I held open the passenger side door and stood aside to help her up. “Sorry. I should’ve picked you up at the door.”

  “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

  A gust of wind rocked the open door. Summer’s foot slipped on the running board, throwing her off balance. I caught her as she fell back against my chest, and I heard a hint of embarrassment in her laughter.

  “I’ll have another drink, please.”

  My own chuckle came out husky, because I really liked having her in my arms. “All that soda really went to your head didn’t it? Lightweight.”

  A gentle push boosted her up into the passenger seat and before I gave into the temptation to let my hand linger on the firm curve of her butt, I handed over the keys for her to start the truck in exchange for the ice scraper to clear the windows. Back in the truck, I noticed her huddled in her jacket and reached to turn on the heat full blast. She gave me a grateful smile and shifted her bare toes directly under the blower.

  I took a quick detour to the auto shop for her suitcase in the rental car, and then we headed back to my house.

  “Tonight was fun,” she said. “Sounds like a number of people stayed in the area. Do you all get together a lot?”

  “I see Jenna once in awhile, and a couple others, but mostly keep in touch with Dave and Randy. Everyone’s busy with their own lives. You know, jobs, marriage, kids.”

  I couldn’t help a small catch in my voice with the word kids, but thankfully Summer didn’t seem to notice.

  “Yeah, sounds about right,” she agreed. “Do you keep up with anyone on Facebook?”

  I shook my head. “Couldn’t get the hang of social media. Never knew what to say because no one cares if I’m having chicken or fish for dinner, so I quit even trying. Besides, who can keep up with Heather?”

  “I know how you feel. Plus, I won’t do that stuff on my phone, and since I’m on the computer all day for my job, I’d rather spend my free time outside.”

  “And what does Summer Clark like to do outside?”

  “Garden, hike, swim. My dog, Jenga, loves the water, so we go to the beach a lot.”

  Queue mental picture of Summer in a bikini. Oh, yeah.

  Shift focus. “Lucky dog,” I said. “What kind do you have?”

  “She’s a mutt from the pound. The vet’s not even sure what’s all in her.”

  Just like that, a lump formed in my throat as memories of my dog greeting me at the door flooded back. “Those are the best dogs.”

  She glanced over. “Speaking from experience?”

  “I had to put mine down last fall.”

  “I’m sorry, Josh.”

  “It’s okay, Deek was older. He loved hiking and the water, too.”

  “Where do you hike around here?” she asked. “I never did much outside stuff when we lived in Wisconsin.”

  The emotions triggered by talking about Deek were so unexpected, I was grateful for the change of subject. “There are some trails up by Dave’s Falls in Amberg.”

  I told her about a few more places in the Crivitz and Wausaukee areas, and by that time we were back at my house. It was almost eleven, but I didn’t want the evening to end—even thought I’d told her I was tired. Her company reenergized me as much as the fresh air on the drive home.

  I carried her bag inside and helped her out of her coat. She leaned against the kitchen counter and bent to remove those couple of straps that somehow made up a pair of shoes. Don’t get me wrong, they were sexy as all hell, but I’d bet her toes were still frozen.

  Taking advantage of the moment, I asked, “Would you like some coffee or hot chocolate to warm up, or would you rather just go to bed?”

  The moment the words were out, a picture of my large bed flashed in my mind. With Summer’s dark hair spread out across my pillow. She straightened, her shoes dangling from two fingers. The color in her cheeks suggested her thoughts paralleled mine and sent blood pumping through my veins. Common sense reminded my ego that blood rushed to a person’s head when they were bent over.

  “Hot chocolate sounds good, but I’d like to change into something more comfortable first.”

  Common sense had no effect on my pulse or my libido. Especially when more fantasy pictures flipped through my mind as I pictured her in items to fit my definition of more comfortable.

  I managed a casual, “Sure.”

  She followed me across the kitchen and living room to the guest bedroom. I didn’t hear her bare feet on the carpet. Didn’t need to. I felt her presence with every step she took. I flipped on the light as I crossed to the bed to set her bag on the comforter. She came to stand next to me, but the moment I looked down into those green-flecked hazel eyes, I beat a hasty retreat back to the hall or resisting pure temptation would be impossible.

  “Bathroom’s across the hall here—holler if you need anything.”

  “Thanks.”

  I took a moment after clicking the door shut. Couple deep breaths with my hands clenched at my sides. In the heat of the moment, when I was close to her, distance didn’t matter. Reminding myself she lived in Florida and would be gone in two days didn’t lessen my desire to kiss her—and a hell of a lot more.

  I returned to the kitchen and busied myself getting stuff out for our nightcap. Milk, chocolate syrup, pan, wooden spoon, mugs. My mother had always made real hot chocolate, and I’d found out the powdered stuff wasn’t worth the sacrifice in taste. Sweet and creamy and smooth as silk. Kinda like Summer’s—

  No. Don’t go there.

  I forced myself to look at Zach’s pictures, front and center on the stainless steel fridge. I recognized the stick figures on the first one as me and him—his dad had blond hair, and this guy had a black Afro twice the size of his head. That’d be me. I grinned as I moved back to the stove, picturing his little tongue poking from the side of his mouth as he concentrated on keeping the crayons on the paper.

  A few minutes later, from the corner of my eye I saw Summer cross the living room. Stirring the milk and chocolate in the pan so it wouldn’t scorch, I swiveled and swept my gaze over her baggy gray sweatshirt and those long legs covered in black exercise pants. Disappoint
ment turned me back to the stove. So much for my fantasy of more comfortable.

  But I got it. She wasn’t interested in impressing me. That was good actually—saved me from making an ass of myself. Because without a doubt, I was headed in that direction.

  Summer climbed up onto one of the stools by my island counter. “Who’d have thought I’d need wool socks for this trip?”

  I leaned one hip against the stove and looked over in time to see her shoulders shake from an involuntary shiver. “Want a pair of mine?”

  “Would you mind?”

  “Of course not. I’ll get them as soon as this is done.”

  Next thing I knew, she was at my side, her fingers brushing mine as she took the spoon from my hand.

  Awareness tingled across my skin, yet I couldn’t help but laugh. “Or I could get them now.”

  “Thanks.”

  Close up, I saw she’d washed her face. Baggy clothes and no makeup—definitely got the message. Until I caught a whiff of minty freshness and realized she’d brushed her teeth. Wouldn’t she have waited until after we had the hot chocolate?

  Before I went crazy over-analyzing and reading into every stupid little thing, I went to get the socks. We met in the living room on my way back, and she carried a steaming mug in each hand. I tossed the socks onto the couch and continued into the kitchen for the bag of mini-marshmallows in my pantry.

  She was pulling on the second sock when I plopped down on the couch and held up the bag. “Can’t forget these.”

  “Definitely not.”

  I smiled at the sight of her small feet engulfed in my big, black wool socks. She grinned back and wiggled her toes.

  “Sexy, hey?”

  I let my gaze wander over her clean face and the messy ponytail she’d pulled her hair into. Funny, but now that I thought about it, if going all natural was intended to turn me off, it’d failed. If anything, Summer exposed and vulnerable looking was more appealing than ever. What would she say to that?

  I settled for meeting her gaze with a low-voiced, “Looks good to me.”

  Only because I was watching so closely did I notice her eyes widen a tiny bit. Then her dark lashes swept down and she focused on the socks.

  “They’re big, but they’re doing the job. Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  She was nervous. Only with her sitting on the opposite side of the couch, I couldn’t exactly tell if it was because she didn’t want to encourage me, or because she was feeling exactly what I felt. I distracted myself by leaning forward to drop a handful of marshmallows into my mug before passing her the bag.

  She added some to hers and then settled into the couch corner with the mug cradled in her hands, feet tucked to the side. I assumed a similar position, only I extended my legs and crossed them at the ankles. My mug balanced on my abs between drinks.

  Our eyes met over the rim of our cups. Neither of us looked away and I felt my pulse begin to pound from the silent connection.

  “How come you’re not married with a couple kids running around this place?” she asked.

  My heart stopped, then jack-hammered in my chest at the word kids. “Wow, jump right in why don’t you.”

  “I just did.”

  That she did—with both feet. So how come I felt like I needed a life jacket?

  Memories surged forward, but I shoved them behind the wall like earlier. I lifted my mug for a sip, stalling until I could figure out an answer that wouldn’t break the gate. Something told me it was already too late.

  Summer mirrored my movements, waiting. I tried to distract myself by watching her lick melted marshmallow from her upper lip, but I knew I couldn’t wait forever.

  Finally I lifted my gaze to hers. “I guess I haven’t met the right person yet. Sounds like a cop-out, but it’s the truth.”

  “Do you want kids?”

  Four words. I never would’ve guessed it, but that question from her was all it took to bring back the acute feeling of loss I’d kept at bay for years. I had to swallow twice before I could speak, and despite the ache in my chest, I gave her the truth.

  “Yes. Do you?”

  “Yes.”

  I seized the opportunity to swing the pressure her way. “So why give the ring back?”

  My turn to watch her wrestle with inner demons. Only, her expression cleared quicker than I expected.

  “Wanting kids isn’t a good enough reason to marry the wrong person.”

  The relief in her eyes gave me the impression she hadn’t known the answer to my question until the moment she spoke it.

  To lighten the mood, I asked, “Is there any reason good enough if it’s the wrong person?”

  She looked up with a laugh. “No, none at all.”

  After her unexpected ice-breaker, we talked long after our hot chocolate was gone. Except for that night in high school, which I noticed she avoided as much as I did, nothing was off limits. Past relationships, politics, religion, future dreams, mistakes, successes.

  Time stood still and flew by, all at once. I couldn’t remember sitting on a couch with a woman and talking for this long without being impatient for something else to happen. Whether it be moving to the bedroom or walking her to her car. Things were just different with Summer. Not that I’d object to moving to the bedroom, but I enjoyed this, too.

  Best of all was when I discovered something to tease her about. Teasing her gave me the chance to enjoy her laugh. It was about two a.m. when she revealed she was a die-hard romantic. Total sucker for sappy chick flicks and romance books. When I mocked the half-naked men who posed on the covers of those books, she pelted me with one of the mini-marshmallows she’d been snacking on.

  “Watch it, buddy.”

  I located the marshmallow and popped it in my mouth with a grin. “I’m just saying, all that hyped-up romance, and chick flicks in general—”

  This time two marshmallows bounced off my forehead. “I would advise you to stop while you’re ahead.”

  A hail of ammunition rained down on my head. Under cover of my raised arms, I judged the distance to the coffee table to grab the half-full bag of marshmallows. I lunged, but she nabbed the bag before I could. I couldn’t stop my forward momentum and when she fell on the floor, I landed on top. White marshmallows spilled in her hair as I laughed above her.

  “Ahead of what?” I asked.

  “My former opinion of you.”

  Guilt hit harder than ever before. I didn’t move. She didn’t move. We lay there on the floor, body to body, the night of the Snowball winter formal between us. I shifted my gaze from hers to pick a marshmallow from her hair. Flicked it away.

  Now. Now was the time to finally apologize.

  And I had to look her in the eye to do it. Unbelievably, I saw a flash of remorse in her expression. Then she reached up behind my head and pulled my mouth down onto hers. Thoughts whirled in my mind, until I realized I could wonder what the heck was going on, or I could enjoy her kiss.

  I’m not completely stupid, and I’m a guy. I chose the latter. Shifted my body to align better with hers and angled my head to deepen the kiss. Her lips parted beneath mine. Warm and soft. The taste of marshmallow registered as I slid my tongue against hers. Chocolate, too.

  “Mmm.” Okay, I hadn’t meant to voice that out loud. But then Summer made a similar sound deep in her throat and raked her nails through my hair.

  Talk about instant turn on. As the kiss continued, things started to move a little fast. The exploration of her hands created a wake of tingles that spread throughout my entire body. She arched up as I eased my palm under the hem of her sweatshirt and across her rib cage. I felt her breath catch, and then the first brush of my fingers against her breast triggered an arousing little moan.

  I broke the kiss so I could see her face. Her hair was spread out on the carpet in wild disarray around her head. Her lashes fanned her cheeks, and her lips were red and wet. Beautiful. Amazing. Sexy.

  I’d thought about kissing her numerous ti
mes during the evening, touching her, but never imagined it’d be this explosive. My arousal throbbed in the juncture of her hips, the cotton fabric and denim between us did nothing to soften her effect on me.

  She opened her eyes. There was no regret, only the sight of her lips curving into an inviting smile. Her leg rose up along my thigh, giving me more room, until she banged her knee on the coffee table.

  In that moment, I knew I couldn’t do this. Somehow she’d forgiven me and how did I repay her? No apology and sex on the floor. Summer deserved better than that. Better than me. She always had.

  I was the one dealing with regret as I pushed up and then helped her to her feet. Confusion colored her eyes more brown than green, and I brushed her long hair back to rest my hands on her shoulders.

  “I honestly didn’t intend for this to happen when I offered you a place to stay,” I said softly.

  I knew I’d said the wrong thing when she lowered her gaze and tried to step back. I couldn’t have her thinking any of this was her fault, so I tightened my hold. When I was sure she wasn’t going to fight me, I crooked a knuckle and raised her chin to meet my gaze.

  “I’m not sorry it did.”

  “But…?”

  I sighed and let my arms fall to my side. “But…it’s not such a good idea. Asking you over was selfish on my part—a way to ease my guilt. Jenna was right, you should stay away.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “What if I don’t want to?”

  Defiant Summer. I’d caught a glimpse of her once or twice during the night. I liked her very much, but right now she mystified me. “Why wouldn’t you run the other way? I mean, after what I did…”

  “What’d you do?”

  “I ditched you at the Snowball dance,” I stated, holding her gaze without flinching. “Never explained. Never apologized.”

  I saw the old hurt in her eyes. Moisture shimmered in her eyes, but no tears fell. She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out her chin. “Did you have a reason for ditching me beyond Lyssa’s shoes, or were you really just that much of an ass?”

  Lyssa’s shoes?

  Oh, yeah, the fuck-me shoes. I’d been fucked, all right.

  I swallowed hard, knowing of all people, Summer deserved the truth. A truth that I’d never told a single person. Not Dave, not even Meg or my parents.