Stacey Joy Netzel Boxed Set

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  “In addition to being that much of an ass, I had a reason.”

  Her eyebrows rose in silent question. Everything flooded forward from the recesses of my mind. I took a deep breath and jumped.

  “She was pregnant.”

  “Lyssa?”

  I nodded and backed up a step to drop down onto the couch. Yes, I’d decided to tell Summer the whole truth, but it didn’t make it any easier. “She told me out in the hall that night. Wanted me to take her to get an abortion.”

  Summer was quiet. I looked up to see her surveying the room. I didn’t understand why until she sat on the couch and asked, “Did you take her?”

  “No. No way.” Elbows braced on my knees, I jerked my head in denial. And that’s when it dawned on me—she’d been looking for pictures. Of my child.

  This time I was ready for the pain. Not that it hurt less, but I didn’t lose my breath from the suddenness of it.

  “So the pictures on your fridge...?”

  “My nephew, Zach—Meg’s son. Lyssa and I left the dance and drove around the rest of the night while I talked her out of it,” I told Summer. “Or so I thought.”

  “What happened?”

  Remembering the night I’d found out what’d really happened triggered my lingering resentment. Anger curled my fingers into fists. “She had the abortion anyway and then pretended she was still pregnant.”

  Summer sucked in a breath and covered her mouth. “That’s awful.”

  “A couple months later I came home from work early to find her half-drunk and high. We got in a fight and she told me it didn’t matter anyway because she’d had the abortion.”

  I forcibly relaxed my hands, only to rake my fingers through my hair. I’d have been a good dad. I’d been scared to death when Lyssa first told me, and for weeks afterward, but I’d always wanted the baby.

  “I was pretty stupid and naïve back then. I mean, I should’ve realized something wasn’t right when she kept begging me to keep everything a secret.”

  Summer looked as confused as I’d felt. “What did she hope to accomplish by lying? I mean, obviously you were going to find out.”

  “I know. But Lyssa was so messed up, I don’t even think she could’ve answered that question. And after what she did, I wasn’t hanging around to find out.”

  I’d seen her a time or two since high school. The first time was the fall after graduation, a year after everything had happened, and she tried to suck me back in. I’d grown up a lot in that year and her conniving left me cold. Last I’d seen she was still making the rounds on the party scene. She still had her looks, but time would catch up with her I knew. These days, if I managed to set aside my bitterness over what she’d done, I simply felt sorry for her.

  After a moment of heavy silence, Summer murmured, “I’m sorry, Josh. That was a hell of a lot to deal with.”

  “Yeah, it was. And it’s about time I admit it doesn’t excuse my actions. You deserved better. I should’ve talked to you.” I lifted my hands palms up, hoping she’d understand. “At first I didn’t know how, I was too ashamed. I picked up the phone a half-dozen times that Sunday after the dance, only I chickened out every time because I had no clue how to explain why I’d left you—I’d promised Lyssa I wouldn’t tell anyone. And then at school on Monday, you wouldn’t even look at me.”

  Unable to sit still any longer, I stood and paced around to the back of the couch. “We used to be friends, you know? But that day, you crossed to the other side of the hall to avoid me. Everyone knew what I’d done, and Jenna and your friends kept telling me what a jerk I was and—”

  “They did?”

  I nodded with a grimace. “Every single day.”

  She rose to her feet. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for—it was true. And yet each day that passed made it harder to apologize and easier to ignore. Then I convinced myself Lyssa was enough to deal with.” I braced my hands on the couch and met Summer’s gaze again. “Earlier, when I saw you in the ditch, I felt like I was right back in high school and wanted to go crawl under a rock. But instead of telling me to go to hell, you smiled.”

  She smiled now. “I was just as surprised to see you. Though, you were a little bossy about the whole car thing.”

  “I was hoping for a shot at redemption.”

  She walked around the couch, her feet soundless on the plush carpet. I turned around to half-sit on the back of the couch. When she was only two steps away, I raised my hand, palm out, to halt her from coming close enough to make me lose my mind again. Not before I finished making this right.

  I locked my gaze with hers. “I apologize for leaving you that night, Summer. I know it’s way overdue, and probably not worth much by now, but I am truly sorry I hurt you.”

  I barely got the last bit out past the lump in my throat. Her forgiveness seemed imminently important. The lump swelled when I saw her blink away tears. She took another step and placed her palm against mine. Encouraged, I interlaced my fingers with hers, tightening my grip to bring her closer.

  “It might be a little late,” she said, “but it means more than you’ll ever know. Thank you.”

  She placed her other hand on my chest. There was no doubt she felt the crazy thudding of my heart, but I didn’t care.

  “I liked you in high school,” I told her, reaching up to thread my fingers through her hair and cup the back of her neck. “I like you even more now.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  She didn’t resist as I drew her forward.

  “Sucks that you live in Florida,” I whispered against her lips.

  I didn’t really give her a chance to reply before kissing her. She didn’t seem to care. Not even when I held her in my arms and dragged her over with me until we were lying on the couch—her on top this time. I thoroughly enjoyed the advantage of having my hands free.

  Summer rested her forehead against mine. I couldn’t believe my luck, from meeting her on the road to spending time with her tonight and clearing the air. For the first time in years I had a woman in my arms I never wanted to let go.

  I ran my fingers through her hair, holding it back so I could see her face. “How long are you here for?”

  “My return flight is Sunday afternoon.”

  “Hmm. Doesn’t give me much time to remind you of all the good things about Wisconsin, does it?”

  She laughed. “Are there positives for a state that has snow in May?”

  I skimmed my palms down her back, traced the bare line between her waistband and sweatshirt, and then eased up the hem of her sweatshirt. Compared to my rough fingertips, her skin was so soft and smooth. “I can think of a few.”

  “I don’t know…every time I’m in Wisconsin, one way or another, I get ditched.”

  Her light, teasing tone confirmed I’d been forgiven and my chuckle was guilt-free. “Well, I can’t do anything about your driving…”

  “Careful,” she warned with a grin.

  “…but I can promise the other won’t ever happen again. Not by me.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  She placed a quick kiss on my mouth before shifting down to lay her head on my chest. Clothes did not detract from the sensual slide of her body against mine. I tried to adjust so my interest wasn’t so noticeable, but there was no hiding the obvious with her sprawled out on top of me. Deciding she’d move if it bothered her, I switched my attention to a back rub.

  A few minutes later, she hummed her appreciation. “What else you got? To sell me on Wisconsin, I mean.”

  I started with the easy ones: the Green Bay Packers and Wisconsin cheese. Having grown up here, she was on board with both of them. So I listed a couple more I was pretty sure she’d appreciate after having gotten to know her tonight: the House on the Rock in Spring Green, Summerfest in Milwaukee, county fairs, and all the great hiking trails, lakes and beautiful waterfalls.

  I was going for the hard-sell, but when I mentioned the goats on the
roof of Al Johnson’s in Door County, her low sound of agreement made me wonder if she wasn’t on the verge of falling asleep.

  “And someday I can take you to the Road Kill Museum in Madison, or we could go to Wisconsin Dells to the Museum of Historic Torture Devices.”

  Wait for it…

  Or not—

  She slapped my chest. “Now you’re just making things up.”

  “No I’m not—I’ve been to both.”

  “By yourself I hope.”

  “What? Not a good date?”

  “Oh, God. No wonder you’re not married.”

  I laughed. Teasing her was so fun. I shifted to a more comfortable position and kept talking until her even breathing told me she’d fallen asleep. I lay awake awhile longer, holding her in my arms, thinking back over the entire evening and marveling at the unexpected outcome of a night I’d almost ditched…

  I woke to the feel of warm lips moving across the stubble on my chin. Okay, good…last night wasn’t a dream. I stretched, bit back a grimace from the crick in my neck, and opened my eyes to find Summer watching me.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.”

  I smiled. She smiled. Before I could do more than think about kissing her, she leaned forward and kissed me first. Pain faded into the background as I concentrated on the sensation of her lips on mine.

  Better than coffee. Better than sunshine. Better than a shower…though I’d need a cold one if we kept this up for much longer.

  I downshifted with a few short kisses and then said, “The Nelson Inn serves breakfast. You got any special requests?”

  She pushed off the couch and held out a hand to pull me up. “Coffee.”

  “That’s a given. Anything else?”

  “Nope. I’m easy.”

  “Yeah?” I waggled my eyebrows.

  That earned me an eye roll and a shove back to the couch. But as she headed out of the room, she tossed a smile over her shoulder. I chuckled and went to start the coffee. When I heard the shower in the guest bathroom, I hurried through one of my own and made it back to start the omelets before she took a seat at the island counter.

  Our breakfast conversation was relaxed and natural, though talk about the future was conspicuously absent. She didn’t bring up Florida, and after my pointed comments last night about Wisconsin, I resisted pushing the subject further. I’d made my feelings clear, so the ball was in her court. For now, I simply enjoyed her company. Enjoyed actually having company in the morning instead of muttering to myself or the TV as I cleaned up alone.

  We retrieved her rental car from M & M’s and then met Jenna and Doug for lunch. Jenna gave me the evil eye until Summer told her we’d put the past in the past. By the end of the meal, it felt like four of us had been friends for years. So much so, that when Jenna suggested Summer and I come over to their house for dinner, I quickly interjected we’d already made plans and then caught Doug’s understanding grin.

  Well, I’d made plans. I just hadn’t asked Summer yet. I held my breath as I waited for her response and relaxed with a smile when she followed my lead with an apology to Jenna. It was only dinner, but I wanted as much time with Summer as possible.

  Afternoon bowling was fun and infuriating at the same time. I hadn’t kissed her since that morning and wasn’t too sure how she’d react if I laid one on her right in front of everyone. Besides, once I started kissing her again, I wouldn’t want to stop, so it was best if I waited for us to be alone again.

  That said, you’d think dinner would’ve dragged, too, right?

  Nope.

  And then there was dessert. She suggested we head back to my place and I figured she meant hot chocolate again, or maybe a dish of ice cream from my freezer.

  Boy did I have it wrong.

  She had it right. As a rule, I don’t kiss and tell, so all I’m going to say is I love Summer’s definition of dessert.

  Sunday, she left.

  Yes, that’s right, she left. My arms, my house, the whole damn state.

  I mean, we said goodbye and everything. Exchanged phone numbers and email addresses, but she didn’t say a single word about wanting to see me again. I wanted to keep seeing her, but figured I shouldn’t have to state the obvious. I hadn’t bothered to hide how much I liked her. In fact I’d shown her quite explicitly half the night and once more that last morning.

  Which left me wondering if her silence put the ball back in my hands, or if a fun weekend fling was her play? Her own effective form of payback, maybe?

  I fell prey to that line of thinking and kept my mouth shut as she walked to security at the airport. The rest of that day, and all of Monday, I have to admit I was a little pissed and a lot hurt. She didn’t call. She didn’t text. She didn’t email.

  Lying in my bed, I replayed our conversations over the past three days. With her scent lingering on the pillow next to mine, I finally understood the Summer I’d gotten to know was more honest than cheap revenge. There in the dark I realized the fear of rejection was dictating my life the same as back in high school.

  The only difference was, back in high school, I was stupid enough not to do anything about it.

  ...and back to SUMMER

  Either Josh wasn’t as interested as I’d thought he was, or he wasn’t as smart as I’d thought he was. Neither possibility thrilled me after the weekend we’d shared. Surely he’d figure out that with our past, he needed to make the next move, right? Or was I the stupid one here?

  But then, Tuesday morning I logged into my computer to begin work and found this in my In Box: Morning, sexy. I miss you. Have a good day.

  Hope was restored. In fact, I was so happy it was downright scary how much power he had over my emotions already. He called me that evening, and it was so nice to hear his voice; we talked for almost an hour. Wednesday, he sent a text before I even woke up—and remember, Florida is an hour ahead of Wisconsin.

  Saw it’s going to be a scorcher down there—stay cool. Busy day at work, but will call later.

  He called again that night, but it was really late and I could tell he was tired so after a little while I pretended I was tired so he could get some sleep. After we hung up, a little voice reminded me nothing had been said yet about when we’d see each other again. My heart ignored that stupid voice and concentrated on the fact that he was checking my weather forecasts.

  Thursday morning his email read: I don’t want to wait until tonight..okay if I call you at lunch?

  Like I’d say no. I rescheduled a conference call and we talked during his lunch and again that night. In fact, laying on my bed in the dark, I got a little adventurous and sparked the hottest phone conversation I’d ever had in my life.

  Friday morning in front of my computer, I grinned, even as my face warmed, and it had nothing to do with the steaming cup of coffee in my hand. With no effort on my part, snippets of that late night phone call whispered in my mind. Josh’s low, sensual voice made even the most innocent of things sound sexy as hell, so you can imagine when he purposely turned on the charm and tossed out some clever double entendres.

  My email loaded and I eagerly clicked to see what greeting would start my day. The first five new messages were work-related. A quick scroll through the rest of my emails dimmed my smile. One email from Jenna, a Facebook message from Heather Bensen, junk mail, but nothing from Josh. I picked up my cell phone...

  No text either. Not now, or the five other times I’d checked.

  I started to worry that my uncharacteristically bold move initiating the sex talk had turned him off. Not that he’d seemed anything but turned on at the time, but what if after he’d had a chance to think about it, he decided he didn’t really care for a woman who did that kind of thing? I mean, what if he thought I did that with all my boyfriends?

  Boyfriend? Great. Maybe it was better I didn’t hear from him this morning. I was becoming way too dependent on a relationship that wasn’t even a relationship yet. Sure, things seemed to be going great over the phon
e, but that annoying little voice pointed out missing me wasn’t even close to suggesting I return to Wisconsin for another visit.

  I’d be on the plane tomorrow if he’d only open that sexy mouth of his and ask.

  Before I spent my whole morning worrying, and before I gave into my impatience and sent the draft of the email I’d composed asking Josh just where the heck all this was going, I sipped my coffee and began sorting and prioritizing my In Box. Not only had I overslept and had lots of work to do, but I had to remain firm and let Josh take the next step on the relationship front. Even if my tongue was sore from biting it to keep my mouth shut.

  Jenga heaved a sigh at my feet and laid her head on her paws.

  I reached down to scratch her behind the ears. “I hear you girl.”

  A half an hour later, my landline rang and I absently reached for the handset while reading a return email from a client in California. “Hello?”

  “What are you wearing?”

  Josh’s husky whisper sent a shot of heat straight through me. My stomach quivered with excitement and I knew I was officially a goner, no matter how many little-voice reminders sounded in my head.

  I snagged my coffee cup and leaned back in my chair with a soft laugh. I’d quickly thrown on a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a tank top because I was expecting a delivery and made it a point not to answer the door in my pajamas if I could plan ahead. “It’s nine o’clock in the morning—what do you think I’m wearing?”

  “Summer, you could be wearing a brown paper bag and it’d still be sexy.”

  “A brown paper bag wouldn’t cover everything it needs to.”

  “See? Sexy. Think of the money you could save on lingerie.”

  I laughed again, twirling the end of my ponytail around my fingers. This was so much better than an email. “So I should be thankful you have no taste?”

  “I have impeccable taste—I’m talking to you, aren’t I? In fact..” His voice dropped a notch, just low enough to put that tremble of anticipation back in my stomach. “I wanted to tell you I really enjoyed our talk last night.”