by Susan Arden
“I’m so sorry I had to leave you. One day, I hope—”
He laid his finger against her lip. “Ssshhh,” he whispered.
Their gazes locked, and they closed the distance between their mouths simultaneously. The second her lips touched his, he lost his train of thought for several thuds of his heart. He deepened their kiss, tangling her tongue with his, and growled his need for her. She tasted so sweet and so his.
Sommer ran her hands up his arms, and hooked her fingers behind his neck, rising so that her tits teased his chest. His heart hammered heavy along his ribs, now joined by hers. Two hearts, beating separately, but together.
“You don’t have to explain a thing. I trust you. Love you. Would move heaven and earth for you, darlin’.”
“Babe, I love you back,” she whispered softly, tracing her fingers along his face.
Where Sommer was concerned, he could never get enough of her—emotionally, physically, or the head-trip they shared.
Chapter 24
“You’re too good to be true,” she held onto Rory for dear life. Never had she felt this safe with anyone else, or as loved. She would never, ever do what Mike had suggested. Not to Rory after he’d always been there for her.
“Marry me,” he whispered, against her mouth.
Her heart thudded and then raced as she hugged Rory tighter. Her whole body trembled as adrenaline coursed through her veins. In his arms, Sommer felt alive and her body on fire, and she didn’t want to let him go.
Can you feel a tiny piece of what I’m feeling? Silently she questioned him, holding back from giving him her answer just yet.
A dog barked off in the distance and the wind rustled through the trees, lifting the scent of night blooming jasmine. How many times had they been outside her mom’s house and she’d inhaled that scent with his arms around her? Countless since high school. Rory wasn’t just her past. He was her future. Her heart squeezed in her chest. If she didn’t have this ginormous catastrophe raining down, she’d shout her answer. Yes! He’d proven that they were more than compatible on so many, many levels. The only man capable of stealing her heart stood right in front of her.
“I want to…please,” she stuttered, choking back a groan. “Give me a week and I’ll give you an answer. Cross my heart!”
“You serious?” He tipped her chin up to him, searching her eyes. All at once his shocked expression gave way to one of his single-dimpled heart-stopping grins. He plucked her off the front seat, hugging her as he pivoted them around in a circle on the sidewalk. “Baby, do you realize, this is the first time you haven’t turned me down? Flat. No speeches about being free or that we’re too young.”
“Not a one,” she said, staring up into his beautiful face. With her heartbeat roaring in her ears, she vowed to find a freaking solution, and then she’d tell Rory yes. Yes!
“Okay. Then a week.” He laughed, squeezing her tighter, and swung her around again. “I can live with that timeline.”
Oh God, the look on his face would be inspiration for a camera commercial, she’d bet. Bet. That word should be stricken from her vocabulary—and moreover, from Webster’s. There was nothing to bet on. All this time he’d waited for her silly fantasies to run their course. He was her sure thing. Rory never lost his faith in them or their love.
“McLemore, I love you.” She stroked her hand along his face. “But speaking of time, I’d better get back inside. Momma’s having one of her moments.”
Rory looked back toward the house. “Is that why your aunt is here?”
“Yep. That date Momma went on, didn’t work out. Aunt Belinda and I are trying to convince her to start taking her medicine again. We’ve been through this before, but this time my aunt has agreed if Momma can get stable, then she could go live with her. But I’m not counting any chickens, from either one of them.”
“You sure, you don’t want me to stay?” He cinched his arms around her tighter, nuzzling her neck.
“Of course I want you to, but you’ve got work tomorrow, even if it’s the weekend. And Momma’s fretting about everything under the sun, including that you’re out here and not coming inside.”
“Let me say hello and then I’ll go.” Without waiting for her to answer, he leaned over and crushed his lips against hers. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, dominating her senses as he hauled her up to him. This wasn’t a peck. His kiss was demanding and possessive.
The feel of his beard stubble and lips sent her pulse rocketing. His tongue commandeered the worry that plagued her. Closing her eyes, she savored Rory’s strong arms encasing her snug against his chest. His rock-hard body warmed the chill that swam under her skin. His silent presence acted as a balm, calming her in the middle of a raging storm. A jolt of hunger blew through her, and she moaned, wishing they could freely explore this raw chemistry they shared. One day, she promised herself.
When he released her from his kiss, she didn’t want to let him. “Hard to say goodbye after that.”
“Then don’t.” He kissed the side of her head.
She hugged him tightly. “Come in for just a quick hello. Momma’s jumpy, and isn’t doing too well.”
Momma vacillated on the periphery of depression and she was plummeting. After Rae had come to the realization that her new friend wasn’t Prince Charming, and he wasn’t going to rescue her, her mood had darkened.
When her mother’s manic spells ran their course, the other side came on fast, and the drop could be severe. Rory had already seen this side of her mom. Since high school, he had lent support, driving them wherever they needed to go, and being the ultimate sounding board when Sommer needed to talk.
He followed her inside and she softly closed the front door. Momma’s nerves were more like frayed live wires and anything jarring caused her to flinch and jump. Sommer met her mom’s gaze. “Rory’s here and wanted to say hello.”
Momma went to rise, but Aunt Belinda placed her hand on her mom’s arm. “No need to get up, Rae. Rory’s not staying.”
“Evening Mrs. Kincaid and Miss Wright,” Rory said, smiling as he reached down to pet her cat, Dandelion’s head.
“How’s the cattle drive going?” Momma’s eyes shifted nervously between Sommer and Rory. “Would you like something? Sommer, get Rory a cold drink. There might be some pie. No, it’s an icebox cake. Are you hungry?”
“The cattle drive is near done. And no thanks, I just stopped by to speak with Sommer and then I’m my way back to the ranch.”
“Momma, maybe you’d like something. How about some tea?” Sommer asked.
“That would hit the spot nicely. With honey, please,” her mother said. “Belinda, what about you?”
“No thanks. But Sommer, bring your momma’s medicine with her tea.”
Bounding up, Momma shook her head vigorously, waving her hands. “Belinda, I don’t like those pills. I can’t swallow them.” Her mom began to pace back and forth seeming to repeat a string of words or maybe it was a chant, and Sommer caught her.
“Momma, take a breath. No one is forcing you to. Right?”
“I don’t know.” Her mom’s mouth twisted into a frown as she glanced past her. Her eyes bloodshot and bouncing again as if she were tracking an imaginary object. This far over the edge, her mom would stay up for days and then crash, sleeping in a depressed stupor unless they could convince her to take her medication.
Even though Sommer was at the edge herself , she refused to give up. She didn’t relent and tried again.
“Remember how you tell me to relax. Not jump into the fryin’ pan. C’mon, Momma, take a breath. For me.”
Momma swung her gaze back to her. “I’ll try.” She gulped a huge breath and nodded, and Sommer smiled, leading her back to her seat.
Aunt Belinda turned to Momma, addressing her sister’s disagreement. “Rae, let’s try. They’ll help you sleep. You can’t stay up all night, and it’s getting late.”
“I can sleep without them. Bu
t fine.” Her mother pouted, then reached for the deck of cards. “Let’s play a hand and afterwards, I’ll take my pills.” Even on the brink. Her mom was still quick on the draw to finagle her older sister. The muscles up and down Sommer’s neck tightened.
“Shake on it,” Aunt Belinda huffed. “One hand.”
“Come with me while I make a cup a tea.” She tugged on Rory’s fingers. “Otherwise, you’ll get suckered into a hand of who knows what.”
Rory followed her into the kitchen, standing by the sink as she filled the kettle and placed it on the burner. She opened the cabinet and removed a box of tea as Rory silently walked over to the side counter, opened the cabinet, and brought out a cup.
“Here.” He placed the cup on the counter.
She moved it to a tray and opened another cabinet, retrieving a pill bottle. Her mom was diagnosed years ago and was still prescribed lithium. A daily concern was getting her mom to take the prescription consistently. More often than not, as soon as Momma felt stable, she stopped taking the meds as if she were cured. But there wasn’t a cure. The bipolar cycle of mania, unchecked meant depression rapidly followed.
“Your mom doesn’t seem as down as before,” Rory commented in a low voice.
“You know how my aunt is, more like a drill sergeant than the average sister. Hopefully, she won’t let her get in a bad way.”
“She’s a force, that’s for sure. I still remember her at the high school plays,” he remarked. “Too bad she doesn’t still teach.”
“For whom?” Ruefully she laughed, dropping a bag of chamomile tea in the mug. Leaning over the counter, she snagged the plastic bear of honey, setting it along with a teaspoon next to the cup. “She scared me, and I’m her niece.”
“The plays were always good, so maybe it worked out.” He came behind her, sweeping her hair away from her neck, and planted his mouth on her skin, drawing her hips back against him. “So very good.”
She didn’t fight what she felt, and arched her body, rubbing her bottom against him as she glided her hands over his. Rory skimmed his lips along her neck, then down to her shoulder. Hours ago, she’d been out of this dress and wearing next to nothing, skating a fine line. Right now, the heat of his mouth set her on fire all over again. The temptation to give in sizzled achingly near. All she had to do was stop thinking and just be in the moment with him, and his off the charts ability to drive her over the brink.
Now more than ever they were so close, on so many levels. A fragile place, really.
To bridge the gap to the other side of what they desired, she had to solve the dilemma of her father’s gambling debt. To draw Rory within this mess wasn’t the way to build a foundation for their marriage. He’d think she was using him. She had to find an answer but not one possibility cropped up. Only more difficult questions.
“I understand that you can’t leave, but I want you so much. I’d take you tonight, do you realize that?” He swung Sommer around and ground himself against her.
“You aren’t alone,” she whispered.
“Baby, I was wrong and I’m the first to admit it, rather than risk losing you. I love you more than my damn pride. Enough that you can trust me not to hurt you, Kincaid.”
“I trust you. I also appreciate how impulsive decisions can wreck things.” She searched his handsome face, wishing she could spill her troubles. But that wouldn’t help one bit. She loved him as much as he loved her, and that meant she had to find her own solution. She squeezed his arms and conceded, “About the edge, you have a point.”
“Forget what I said. I was talkin’ nonsense.”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “McLemore, how I’d love to agree, but I can’t. What you’ve always said is true. For every season…”
“A reason,” he finished the sentiment. Threading her fingers with his, Rory placed her hand on his hard-on. The kettle whistled and he grunted, “Saved by the bell.”
Sommer’s cell phone chirped and she picked it up, imagining what her handsome cowboy had to say. Except the text wasn’t from Rory saying he was back home. She read the message. Call me. BIG NEWS!
It was from Ivy, and Sommer dialed her friend’s number. She couldn’t get a greeting out before she heard a piercing holler, so loud she held her cell phone away from her ear.
“What’s bigger than getting engaged?” Not a word in response. Sommer glanced at her cell to see if she’d dropped the call. Nope. Apparently, Ivy was still too excited to talk.
“Sommer?” Ivy hollered again, amidst loud music in the background.
Unable to hear Ivy’s excited chatter over the blaring music, Sommer lowered the volume for the sake of her eardrums. “Oh. My. God! Did you elope?” she asked in a dither, almost dropping her phone.
“Girl, your imagination is still as fertile as ever. Absolutely not yet, but I have sensational news!”
“Okay, then tell me what’s your big, louder than hell news?” Sommer demanded, then gasped, putting aside her question if Ivy was pregnant. Time didn’t move that fast.
Ivy snickered, “You’re co—”
“You lost me,” Sommer huffed, flopping down onto her bed. “I couldn’t hear what you just said.”
“Sommer Kincaid listen closely.” Ivy laughed. “You are coming out to Los Angeles!”
She stared at the wall opposite her bed, at the bulletin board where a slew of her photos were pinned into a chaotic collage. The colors swirled together until she blinked.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m sending you a ticket, and all you need to bring is a bikini and your ink gun,” Ivy said. “And some shorts, tanks, and flip-flops. That’s it.”
“Why are you sending me a ticket?” Sommer laughed. “If you’re not getting married, like in the next week?”
“O.M.G!” Ivy hollered again. “Vince’s tattoo is appearing in Rolling Stone.”
“The magazine? The Rolling Stone?” Sommer sprang to a sitting position and gripped her phone.
“Uh-huh. And the journalist suggested that the tattoo artist—you, babe—do the interview, too.”
“That’s cool,” she said cautiously. How could she get away from here, even with a ticket? The timing was horrible. She’d have to forego work—money she couldn’t give up. “Listen, Ivy, that sounds terrific, but I can’t leave right now. I’m kinda in a financial jam and need to stay here to earn some money.”
“Som-mer.” Ivy laughed again. “Best part, girl. The musicians here at the studio want you. I mean your ink designs. I have ten names of definitely committed. People ready to get their tattoos done like tomorrow, and the interview hasn’t even taken place yet. Those are just the guys and chicks around here who’ve seen your handiwork on Vince.”
“Don’t joke around.” Sommer didn’t dare to believe it could be possible.
“I’m not kidding. Serious. So effing serious.”
“Shut up!” Ten tattoos, even small ones would place her ahead and maybe, if Mike saw she had part of the money, he’d be willing to work out a deal. Didn’t those guys offer payment plans?
“It’s legit. Somm, these people aren’t living in dives. They’re studio bands, signed with labels. Not playing in some hole-in-the-wall. A few are from Diehard, but the others are even bigger names. You could do really, really, really well out here as an ink artist. Girl, isn’t that what you always wanted?”
“It used to be,” she answered. “I haven’t been out to LA before and always wanted to visit.”
“Well then! It’s settled. Can you leave tomorrow?” Ivy asked.
“Do you mean in the next few hours?”
“Chill. You can sleep on the plane,” Ivy supplied. “If that’s the only issue, I’m booking your flight and will text you when the ticket is en route.”
Suddenly conscious that someone was bankrolling this trip, she asked, “Who can I repay, for the ticket?”
“There’s no one, ‘cause it’s on Vince. Really the m
agazine, but he’s fronting the ticket since it’s happening on the fly.”
“Nope. I have to.” Sommer tacked on, “Or I won’t come.”
Silence on the other side of the phone. Then Ivy laughed, way down low. “Somm, he doesn’t need your money. I swear I had no idea at the time, you know when Vince first showed up at the Diamond. Not even the next day. But when we got here, it became pretty obvious; he’s not like any of the guys from Annona or even Clarkesville.”
“What do you mean?” She already knew he’d gone to a music school.
“Vince’s family is super famous. His father is a well-known conductor and his mother is a huge musician. Plays concerts in big cities, all over the world. I mean, I’m not into that sort of music, but plenty of folks are, from what I can tell. They have a house here, and it’s massive. Vince has his own apartment in the city and it’s going to blow you away. When you see my engagement ring, you aren’t going to believe it. I still don’t believe it, and this rock is on my finger.”
“Holy crap! Ivy, you’re officially engaged! Am I on a need to know basis? You’ll send me a photo of your ring now, as in right this second. Forget about a ticket.” Sommer shook her head convinced that time moved in warp speed out west.
“I just got it today, so don’t lose it. I’m snapping as we talk. Don’t suppose you and Jen are ever going to make up?”
She inhaled a deep breath and slowly let it go. “Don’t suspect any time soon, if she doesn’t get over what’s-his-face. He’s not one of the ten, is he?”
“Not after what I heard. Probably right about Jen. She’s crazy if she thinks Drew was going to bring her out here. He’s not just into one chick or two, he has a whole harem. All I can say is, she’s lucky she got away and cut that cord. I tried to explain it to her, but you know how long it took her to get over Haden,” Ivy remarked.
“Honestly, I don’t think she ever did,” she muttered, biting her lip until her phone chirped.
“I sent it,” Ivy announced. “Tell me. Is this huge-obscene or huge-okay?”