Hot Summer Nights

by Jessica Clare

  “Beautiful,” he muttered, watching the flush on her cheeks as she lost every inhibition she possessed.

  Her body shook, her lashes fluttered up and her eyes locked on his. “I need—”

  “I know what you need.” But she wasn’t coming alone or without him inside her. He rose and quickly shed the rest of his clothes, pausing only to grab a condom from his pocket before returning.

  Taking him by surprise, she plucked the packet out of his hand, ripped it open, and managed to roll the latex over his straining erection.

  She grinned at the results. “Now hurry.”

  He swung a leg over her and positioned himself at her entrance. She whimpered, the sound inflaming his need, and he braced a hand above her shoulder, looking into her beautiful eyes as he thrust deep. Thrust home.

  Her eyes widened, then rolled back slightly before she managed to focus on him once more. “Oh, God.”

  “That’s not God, darlin’. That’s you. And me.” And damn they were hot and wet.

  He pulled out, slid back, the slick sounds of sex surrounding them along with Alexa’s whispered pleas of harder, faster, and oh, God, nearly making him come too soon. He held on, gritting his teeth as she bent her knees, taking him deeper. Then, without warning, her body gripped his, clamping on tight as she came.

  Her orgasm released his tenuous hold and restraint. He pumped into her, feeling more than he ever had, knowing in his gut this was so much more than sex, and he accepted it and reveled in it as he came.

  It took a while for them to catch their breath, and finally Luke rolled off her. “You okay?” he asked.

  She met his gaze, her eyes glazed and dreamy. “Never better.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He kissed her nose, then pulled himself up and headed for the bathroom.

  He returned to find her staring at the ceiling, a satisfied smile on her face and a healthy, happy glow on her cheeks. One he’d put there, Luke thought, grinning, too.

  “Roll,” he said to her.

  “Hmm?”

  “Roll over.” He lightly patted her hip.

  She groaned but turned over as he asked. He glanced at her bare bottom, white smooth skin with hints of pink and more than a few scrapes. He frowned at the sight. “Hurt?” he asked, rubbing his hand over first one cheek then the other.

  “A little sore,” she admitted, her words muffled in the pillow.

  “Sorry, sugar. I never meant to cause you pain.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she giggled.

  “I’ll live,” she assured him.

  “I hope so.” He massaged her skin and she sighed in contentment.

  “When do you leave?” she asked, the question muffled. She didn’t peek out from where she’d buried her head in her arms.

  The question was long overdue. “I have to be home for my niece’s birthday party on Saturday.” He pulled in a deep breath. “So my flight’s tomorrow.”

  Silence surrounded them, the mood broken as reality intruded.

  “You’d really like my nieces,” he heard himself say. “Cute little things. Girly girls, with bows in their hair and cowboy boots on their feet.” He continued to speak, unsure of how to bring them back to before, when it was just Luke and Alexa in the cabin. Not Luke from Texas and Alexa from New York.

  He heard what sounded like a hiccup. Or her choking back tears.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Take the weekend and come with me to Texas,” he said.

  She popped up in bed and flipped over. Her eyes were red as they zeroed in on him. “Say that again?” she asked.

  The suggestion came out unexpectedly but the sentiment was heartfelt, he realized. “Come to Texas. Meet my family. You’ll have fun and they’ll love you.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “But…work. The hospital. My patients.” Her father. That last one went unsaid.

  “Will all be here when you get back.” He didn’t know what he hoped for out of the request. He only knew he wasn’t ready to be apart from her.

  The rest he’d figure out.

  If she said yes.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Alexa sat up in bed, the sheets pulled up over her breasts as she stared at Luke. Come to Texas, he’d said, and boy was she tempted. She’d never wanted to chuck the responsibilities in her life and take off for the weekend, but she did now.

  Unfortunately, the reliable, dependable side of her spoke louder in her head and took over. “I can’t just pick up and go when the whim strikes me.” She winced, knowing she sounded more like her father than herself.

  And the hurt on Luke’s face confirmed it.

  “Luke—”

  “I get it. You have to work.” He’d been sitting on the edge of the mattress and now he reached down and grabbed his pants off the floor.

  She wasn’t ready for their time together to end, especially not like this. “No, you don’t get it. I want to go with you. I really do.”

  He paused in the middle of pulling on his jeans and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s not as hard as it sounds. I’m guessing you have plenty of vacation time built up, and since you managed today, I figure you also have people to cover for you. Hell, knowing you, half the hospital probably owes you a favor.”

  Her cheeks burned because he was right and he’d figured her out in a very short time. “I want to go,” she repeated, needing him to hear her and believe. “But I can’t leave without giving any notice.”

  He secured the button on his jeans before answering. “Lex, I’m not gonna lie to you. These past few days weren’t just unexpected, they were fucking amazing,” he said, letting loose with his language for the first time.

  She grinned but said nothing, mainly because, a) it didn’t bother her, and, b) she agreed. Their time together had been exactly that.

  He hooked his fingers in the loop of his jeans, his chest bare, his gaze level on hers. “Nobody respects discipline and routine more than me. I wouldn’t be where I am in my career if I didn’t dedicate myself one hundred and ten percent during the season and stick to some kind of schedule on the off-season. And if I thought you were saying you couldn’t come because you wanted to work or it would affect your career, I’d never push. But that isn’t it, is it?”

  With every word he spoke, her defenses rose higher. She stiffened her shoulders until her neck hurt, and she glared at him, but he clearly wasn’t finished. “Tell me what you think it is,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, protecting herself from whatever he would say next.

  Which was ironic since, five minutes ago, she wouldn’t have thought she’d have to protect herself from this man—ever.

  “You don’t want to tell your father you’re taking more time off. You don’t want to disappoint the old man or lose the legacy he’s so carefully prepared for you. But, darlin’, I’m asking you straight out to be sure that’s the future you yourself want.”

  Her mouth ran dry. As quickly as her anger had grown at his words, it deflated with his further insight. She wasn’t sure about her life and he knew it. And he didn’t want to hurt her; he wanted her to be happy.

  His gaze softened. “If I could stay longer and be with you, I’d do it. Give up a meeting or two, miss a practice if I thought I could work it out. But the one thing I won’t miss in life is a family event because those happen only once. I can’t get back a missed birthday or the look in my niece’s eyes when she sees that power-charged Barbie car I bought for her that’ll be waiting in the driveway.”

  Oh my God. He was killing her. Alexa didn’t even know the little girl he spoke of, but she suddenly had a whole new vision of Luke Thompson, and it took her breath away. His words sliced deep because how many of her birthdays had her own father missed because of work, while Luke wouldn’t skip his sister’s daughter’s special day?

  She’d thought this man was something special. Something real. Now she knew for sure.

  Her cell phone suddenly rang inside her purse, the ringtone the one she’d programmed for her father.
She cringed at the interruption.

  Luke glared at her bag. “That him?” he asked.

  Alexa nodded. Unable to help herself, she reached for the purse and pulled out the ringing phone. At least half a dozen missed calls, all from her father. “I didn’t tell him I was taking off today.” She glanced at Luke but found no understanding in his gaze.

  “How long are you gonna let him run your life?” he asked.

  “He doesn’t—”

  Luke pinned her with a knowing gaze. “Give me more credit than that. He does.”

  The cell stopped it’s incessant, annoying ring, and another missed call and voice mail notification popped up on the screen. Disgusted, she threw the phone onto the bed.

  “Get dressed,” he said, more gently than she’d have expected. “I’ll toss the sheets into the washer. Sawyer said there’s someone who comes in and does laundry, so she’ll finish up what I start.”

  Nodding, she rose, feeling self-conscious that she was naked and he wasn’t. In silence, she looked for the clothes she’d shed and realized her jeans were still damp. She pulled on her underwear and shirt, her back to him.

  “Do I have time to dry these for a little while before I put them back on?” She turned to find him right there, in her personal space, and she sucked in a shallow breath.

  He braced his hands on her forearms, his thumbs rubbing lazy circles over her shirt. “I don’t want to end this with an argument.” He met her gaze, those warm eyes communicating real regret.

  Her stomach twisted nervously. “Me neither.” She didn’t want to end it at all, but he’d made the gesture and she’d turned him down.

  Alexa knew she had a lot to process, but she couldn’t upend her life in a heartbeat. She’d always been a thinker, someone who processed first and acted later. During this time with Luke, she’d enjoyed spontaneity, but a lifetime’s worth of habit wouldn’t be broken quickly.

  “Give me your jeans. I’ll toss ’em in for a bit,” he said.

  “Thanks.” She handed him the damp denim, then helped him strip the linen off the bed and pillows.

  They worked in somewhat comfortable silence, but the atmosphere between them had changed. No longer sexually charged or light and playful, a pall had fallen over them, because they both knew they’d reached the end of this.

  Whatever this was.

  And Luke was right. It had been fucking spectacular.

  * * *

  Luke drove Alexa home. He walked her to her front door, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her. She knew it was good-bye, even if he didn’t say the words. Even if he’d programmed his phone number into her cell phone, she sensed the finality in the kiss.

  Alexa entered her house, wanting nothing more than to be alone. She didn’t return her father’s calls. He could damn well wait until she returned to work on Friday before she dealt with his anger. Instead she gave herself time to grieve. As insane as it sounded, that’s what she did. She grieved for a relationship she’d walked away from before it began. For a man who’d given her more in three days than anyone else had given her in a lifetime. And she grieved for the lonely years she’d spent growing up and the frustrating time she’d spent trying to please a man who couldn’t be satisfied.

  Suffice it to say, Alexa held a pity party complete with ice cream and phone calls to her best friend. By the time she fell into a fitful sleep, she did so with the knowledge that this time tomorrow, Luke would be gone.

  And she had some harsh decisions and choices to make about herself, her life, and her future.

  * * *

  Alexa dressed in her navy power suit, the outfit she saved for board meetings and arguments about changing the status quo with the so-called powers that be. The same board headed by her father. She slipped on a pair of high heels, not her usual choice for the hospital, but one that made her feel in control. Like she could handle anyone and anything—the way she felt when she was around Luke.

  Makeup in place, she climbed into her car and drove to University Hospital, then parked and entered the building that had been home since she was a little girl. She listened to the click of her heels as she made her way down the halls to her father’s office, and realized there was a lot wrong with that bit of truth. But truth it was, and she was finally ready to confront it—along with the man who’d created her reality.

  She knocked on her father’s office door.

  “Come in!”

  She poked her head in. “Dad? I need a word.”

  “I’m busy,” he said, not looking up from his paperwork. The one thing she’d always dreaded about the chief of staff job was the massive amounts of paperwork and the resulting lack of interaction with the patients.

  She took a deep breath and stepped inside anyway. “I’d appreciate it if you made the time, it’s important.” She shut the door behind her, not planning on leaving until she’d had her say.

  With a resigned sigh, he put his pen down and gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

  She opted to remain standing, needing all the leverage and power she could muster.

  “Well? I don’t have all day.”

  She clenched and unclenched her fists. “Are you happy?” she asked her father.

  He blinked, then looked at her with a frown creasing his forehead. “Excuse me?”

  She’d thought long and hard about how to approach him, what she wanted to say. This was rehearsed and she knew it. “I asked if you’re happy. In your life? Your job?”

  “Alexa, I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for philosophical conversations.”

  “Well, I’ll say it again. I’d appreciate it if you made the time. This is important to me.”

  Hands on his desk, he met her gaze. “Fine. I don’t think about happiness.”

  Her heart seized at the admission she’d expected. What she hadn’t anticipated was how much the knowledge hurt. “Did you ever? Think about it, I mean.” To hell with power. She lowered herself into the chair, needing support. “When you were younger? When you met Mom? When you fell in love?”

  That last question was a stretch. Alexa had no idea if her parents had been in love. Or not. She didn’t remember them interacting and her father never spoke about it.

  His scowl deepened. “What’s going on with you? Are you ill?”

  She drew a deep breath. “I’m taking a leave of absence.” She said the words slowly and deliberately, not rushing through them the way she was tempted to do.

  The only way he’d take her seriously was if she sounded firm, didn’t back down, and stood her ground. All things Alan Collins respected. Unless it involved going against his directives or wishes.

  “Okay, now I know you’re sick. What the hell do you mean, you’re taking a leave?” He leaned forward in his seat, talking at her like she was just an employee, not his only child.

  “In the last couple of days, I’ve had time to think about what I want out of life and—” She pulled in a deep breath. “This isn’t it. I don’t want to be a paper pusher for this hospital. I don’t want to follow in your footsteps, I want to create my own path.”

  “You want to create your own path,” he mimicked her. “Don’t tell me. This has to do with that football player,” he said in disgust.

  “You know he plays football?” She said the first thing that came to mind.

  “The nurses couldn’t stop whispering about it. I thought you’d be above that sort of thing. At the very least I thought you’d get that little rebellion out of your system and return to work fully focused.”

  She blew into her hands in an attempt to calm down. “Well, you thought wrong. And that little rebellion you mentioned? It’s been a long time in coming. These past few days may have shown me what it’s like to really live and enjoy life and be happy, but the discontent began long before and has been brewing for years.”

  “Alexa, not many people get the opportunities you’ve had,” her father said, too slowly and patiently, as if he were talking to a misbehaving child.
“Not many people have the avenues available to them that you do.”

  She held up a hand. “Stop right there. I’m grateful for each and every one, but did you ever think that maybe I don’t want the same things you did?”

  “And what is it you think you want?”

  There it was again, that patronizing tone. She knew then he’d never get it, never understand. Her stomach hurt because he was her father, but he wasn’t her daddy. He never had been. “I know that I want to enjoy my job. My days. I’m not naive. Life isn’t always easy or fun, but I want to wake up in the morning knowing that, at the very least, I’m doing something of my choosing. Not yours.”

  His hands bunched in frustration, his knuckles turning white. “That’s not gratitude; that’s disrespect.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “I beg to differ. I did everything you ever asked or wanted. I tried things your way. Now I’m going to try my own.”

  His face turned red, his cheeks flushed, and anger vibrated from him. “I raised you.”

  “Which is what you do when you have children. What you don’t do is direct and manipulate them into being what you want, envision, or need. I love you, Dad. But I have to live my own life.”

  “Are your giving up medicine?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I just want the time to figure out what kind of medicine I want to be in.” She’d wondered if she should add this, and then decided she’d come so far, might as well go all the way. “I also need to figure out where I want to practice it.” Hospital, private practice, more pro bono work at the youth center. Alexa didn’t know but she wanted to figure it out.

  He cleared his throat. “You might want to reconsider. The world keeps moving. In other words, your job may not be here when you want to come back.”

  Her own father wouldn’t hold her position for her. She hadn’t anticipated that, but she managed to hide the pain of his betrayal. “I’ll take that chance,” she said.

  “Your choice. Now, if you’re finished, I have work to do.” Without meeting her gaze, he picked up his pen and looked back down at his papers. If not for the slight tremor shaking his hand, Alexa would think him completely unaffected.