Summer Sparks

by Kris Pearson

  She felt his breath against her neck. In and out, several times before he spoke again.

  “So are you back?”

  “If you’ll have me. Please.”

  Another long shuddering exhalation, and then he removed one hand from hers. He ran it along her arm and down across her breast until he was clutching her around her waist and pulling her hard back against himself.

  “Does it feel like I want you back?”

  She snuggled against him. “Quite a lot,” she agreed.

  He dug in his pocket and pulled out a bundle of keys. Unclipped one and said, “House. I won’t be long. And consider yourself kissed. I’m not doing it in front of the boys.”

  Anna flicked her gaze across the building site. No-one was working. His whole crew had downed tools to watch.

  *

  “Nosey as a bunch of grannies,” Jason complained a little later. They were in his bed, both out of breath. “Led by Eric, of course,” he added. “All wanting to know when you were coming back.” He kissed her bare shoulder.

  “But I was gone the whole week before. What difference did it make?” She snuggled against him and turned her face to kiss him.

  Jason cleared his throat. “I may not have been in the best of tempers.” He captured her silky smooth breast in one of his hands and ran his thumb to and fro over her nipple. “In fact it’s possible I was a sore-headed swearing bastard for days on end.”

  She looked up at him with sparkling eyes. “But not now?”

  He stretched luxuriously, then relaxed again, sending her a satisfied grin. “Well, this certainly helped cheer me up.”

  “And if we did it again, would you be even happier?”

  “Possibly,” he agreed, tongue tucked in his cheek. “How about you?”

  Anna slid her arm around his waist. “I was happy the moment you trapped me against the fence. I thought ‘at least he’s going to give me the chance to explain’. Even if that was all, it would have been good. I had no idea if you’d ever speak to me again.”

  He shook his head, disarmed by her candour. “Frosty, how can you think so little of yourself - or of me? Of course I wanted explanations. I was totally pole-axed when you hated the photos. I thought you looked wonderful. That you’d helped me create something different and beautiful…”

  “But there were so many of them. I was only expecting one.”

  “And that’s what worried you?” Jeez, women were tough to untangle.

  “No… not really. But there did seem to be a lot of my body on display. And Dad started on about his reputation being harmed, and then bloody Tim appeared, trumpeting away and rubbing it in, so there was plenty going on.” She reached for the hand playing with her breast and wove her fingers through his.

  He smiled at the contrast – her fingers pale and pretty, his tanned and strong and so much larger.

  “But there was something else, and...” she looked up at him. “Something you may not like at all, and I won’t blame you if you don’t.” She buried her teeth in her bottom lip and worried at it for a few seconds. “It’s probably a deal breaker. It’s why I went to Adelaide.”

  He waited while she composed herself, unease shimmying down his spine at her bleak words.

  “I went to meet my son.” She turned her face completely away from him and pressed it down onto his chest. “I was raped when I was fourteen,” she mumbled, so softly he barely heard the words.

  Jason lay there in shock. Someone had hurt her! Caused her years of pain and anguish while they’d no doubt felt nothing. He wrapped his other arm around her and held her close, feeling fine tremors shaking her, then hiccupping sobs that set tears leaking from her blue-sky eyes. He released her for a moment and reached across to the box of tissues beside the bed. Pulled several out. Tucked them under her chin. And wrapped her close again. “You poor kid,” he murmured. “Poor little girl.”

  Fourteen. Only four years older than his sister Cathy. The same age he’d been when Cheryl walked out and left him alone with Trev.

  He stroked her hair - long soft caresses he hoped would comfort her. “How the hell did you cope?”

  She huffed out a long sigh. “They sent me to Auckland. Until it was born. And brought me back once they’d given it away.” A deep shudder shook her. “I never saw it. Didn’t know if I’d had a son or a daughter until the night of the exhibition.”

  He closed his eyes, wanting badly to hit someone. Smug Michael Wynn would do nicely. “You didn’t find out until then?” God, would she even want to talk about it?

  But it seemed she did. “Weird combo of stuff, I guess. I’ve changed since I met you. Got braver.” She dabbed at her eyes with one of the tissues, and sent him a watery smile.

  “Frosty, it sounds like you’ve been brave forever. Nothing to do with me.”

  “Jason, yes it is. You’re somehow giving me the courage to break out of the chains that have kept me obedient and repressed.” She sniffed. “Which sounds stupidly melodramatic. But when Dad started on about ‘his’ reputation, something inside me snapped, and I just thought, ‘Bugger it - you’re not so lily white, and I told him he was a baby snatcher and a forger. Which was why Jossy lost it.”

  Jason’s brows shot up. He drew a deep breath. “I heard a bit of muttering, but I had no idea it was about anything like this. Just saw you were upset and needed some privacy away from that cretin of a boyfriend.”

  She managed a puff of laughter. “Everyone’s world was seriously falling apart there for a while. Jossy had no inkling about the baby or that Dad had covered it up. He got rattled when I demanded to know whether it was a boy or a girl in front of her, so he told me. Even showed me a current photo. It seems he’s been keeping tabs on his only grandson.” She gave a deep shudder. “And the boy in the photo was the spitting image of the brother of my best friend back then, so that gave me the answer about who drugged me and raped me.”

  Appalled, he reared up. “Bastard! If they never got him for it, will you press charges now?”

  Anna gave a slow shake of her head. “No point, thank God. He’d hit his head on a water-ski ramp by the time I got home. He’s been practically a vegetable ever since.”

  Jason relaxed a little. “Total karma,” he muttered, settling back into the pillows, “But you still wanted to go and see the kid?”

  She kissed his chest. “Had to get it out of my system, one way or the other. Couldn’t leave it festering. Maternal instinct and so on.”

  “And?”

  She blew her nose. “No maternal instinct. Absolutely zilch. Cured for life. But I’m glad I went.”

  Relief flooded through him; she wouldn’t be leaving. Wouldn’t be sharing the affection he wanted all for himself. Then a strand of disappointment wove itself through his euphoria. “But… if you loved the baby’s dad?”

  She reached up, smiled, and stroked his jaw. “Different deal, I’m sure. Especially if he had a sexy beard like this.” Then she looked horrified. “Ignore that. It sounded - um - rather predatory.”

  He pulled her closer. “It’s out now, Frosty. You can’t take it back. Am I looking worried at the prospect?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. Tilted her head on one side. “Not terribly. No.”

  “Hold that thought then. I’ve bought the suit and you’ve got the pretty white dress. We could do a sexy little beach wedding at the end of summer?” He held his breath. He’d never intended mentioning it this soon.

  Or this way.

  Or in bed.

  Hell, he’d probably just stuffed up any chance…

  “Jason Jones,” she said, wriggling in his arms until she was sitting on top of him, gloriously naked. “If you think Justice Michael Wynn and his lovely wife Ruth would allow their eldest daughter to get married to a builder on the beach in a short dress that’s already been worn, and probably with a rag-tag bunch of gypsies playing the wedding march on Chinese erhus, and banjos and harmonicas…” She stopped for a moment and he watched her eyes and smile
widen. “Then I think it would be great, and we have all the ammunition we need to over-ride their stuffy opinions.”

  EPILOGUE

  “Funny how things work out,” Anna said to Thelma Hughes.

  Thelma was cutting her another bunch of thorny pink roses from her trellis.

  “If I hadn’t offered to sort all the stuff at the cottage last Christmas, I would have missed meeting Jason. And maybe you and Bill would never have had that look inside the house he’d built.”

  Thelma handed over the roses and flexed her back. “We were very pleased he was able to build our new place. We definitely got the best builder,” she added complacently. “Those men doing your third house are very rough. Not like little Hoolie, who’s an absolute sweetie, and so fond of his mum.”

  Anna suppressed a grin. ‘Little’ Hoolie would soon be giving Jason a run for his money, height-wise.

  Thelma rubbed her shoulder. “I’ve had it with this old garden. Can’t wait to move in to the new house and just play with a few pots on that big balcony.”

  “I’m finally getting my first look at the whole finished place today,” Anna admitted. “The elevator’s in at last. Jason hasn’t let me climb up the ladders between floors for a while now, and the fire stairs have been full of painters on scaffolds.”

  “I should hope he wouldn’t, dear. What are you? About seven months?”

  “Honeymoon baby,” Anna agreed. “A bit earlier than we’d planned, to be honest.”

  “Our first son was a honeymoon baby. Just nicely decent.” She sent Anna a broad smile that said all too clearly he probably wasn’t. “It was the seventies, after all…”

  Anna grinned back. She’d made surprising new friends among the residents of Scarlet Bay and their children. Giving up full-time design work in the city had been easier than she’d expected. Now she worked from Jason’s office, partly taking on freelance design projects, partly looking after the photographic website and orders, and partly doing admin work for JJ Residential. Her sleek little Audi had been replaced with a Toyota double cab pick-up, and she was sometimes the go-to girl for urgent building supplies.

  “Let me know how you like the new place,” Thelma said. “I think it’s beautiful, but it’s also very practical. Two bedrooms and living on the third floor for us. Two bedrooms and living on the middle floor for a holiday let - or for the family to stay, of course. And the ground floor is garaging for cars and boats.”

  Anna knew that perfectly well - she’d lived and breathed the plans and the progress for months. “Jason says it’s easily convertible to a two-floor, four-bedroom home with an extra entertaining area.”

  “That architect Anton knows what he’s about,” Thelma agreed. “I would have thought living down below was best for a couple of retirees, but he came up with the elevator idea so we get the view to beat them all. And hopefully quite a few years to enjoy it. Tell your boy I’ll be along later for my first ride in it.”

  Her boy. Anna laid the roses on the front seat, waved goodbye to Thelma, and went to see him.

  *

  “How’s it going, Mrs Jones and Jones Junior?” he asked, beaming at her and cutting a phone call short so she’d be his sole object of attention.

  “Daphne Delilah?” Anna suggested.

  “Eulalia Carolina?”

  “That has a certain ring to it,” she agreed, pressing close for a kiss. They played the same game every time - suggesting inappropriate names for their unseen daughter.

  Jason cradled her bump in both hands, rubbing gently. “Is she kicking today?”

  “Not right now, but maybe your elevator will wake her up?”

  “Not likely - it’s a nice gentle ride.” He took Anna’s hand and led her to the glass-doored cubicle installed in the front corner of the garage. “Thelma and Bill can have it going right up to their floor and bypassing their rental,” he said. “Or if they have family in the rental, it can go to both.” He closed the door and pressed a button. Anna assumed it was a very gentle ride indeed because with Jason’s arms around her, and his lips settling on hers for a long sexy kiss, she was aware of nothing but him.

  The elevator stopped and the door opened. He patted her butt. “Out,” he said. “Admire my work.”

  She looked around and smiled. The big living space was drenched with sunshine through the floor to ceiling bi-fold doors, and the view was dazzling. The waves of Scarlet Bay glittered far below them, and the tops of the pohutukawa trees were already dusted with brilliant red blooms.

  Jason unlatched the doors and slid them aside so the whole wall opened to the wide balcony. “The ultimate in indoor/outdoor living,” he said in his best salesman’s voice.

  “It’s amazing,” Anna agreed, moving to stand by the safety rail, “You got the best of the bargain when Dad and Uncle James gave Trev the job you wanted. It mightn’t have felt like it at the time, but you built three stories to his one. You got this incredible position to set your house on.”

  “And,” he said, sliding his arms around her, “I got the girl.”

  THE END

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Thank you so much for choosing to read my book! And thank you even more if you write a review. I hope you enjoyed it. I write because I love to share my stories, so please help to get the word out by leaving your review on the page where you bought this. It’s more important to authors than you might think.

  Don’t be shy – say what you thought, what you liked, and anything you didn’t. It will help more people decide to buy, and encourage me to write the kind of books you want.

  If you’d like to try some of my others there’s a list of them just below, and more titles are following.

  Sign up here for my newsletter and my FREE bear shifter novella ‘Sniffing Her Out’.

  To see all my titles, go to http://www.krispearson.com

  If you click on the book covers on the right hand side of the home page, you’ll be taken to the stories behind the books, and photos of the settings. Hope you visit soon.

  Thank you,

  Kris.

  Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

  www.gobookcoverdesign.com

  All my new covers now feature pieces of beautiful New Zealand scenery. On the front of this one you’ll see a northern bay on the Tutukaka coast – co-incidentally where my favourite boss retired to, and where my online friend Louise sometimes goes for picnics.

  Our beaches really are this empty for the most part. We’re such a long narrow country (entirely surrounded by ocean) that we have the longest coastline in the world for our land area. Come and visit – the swimming and boating and fishing and snorkeling are certainly spectacular.

  To follow: more of the Scarlet Bay Series. Here’s a taste of the next –

  SUMMER SECRETS - CHAPTER 1 – LIFT-OFF

  Josslyn Wynn.

  The corners of Cam Mackay’s generous mouth pulled down at the thought of her.

  The unseen, stuck-up, know-it-all lawyer. How often had he planned vivid scenarios where she fell from bridges, or stepped under buses, or was struck by lightning, or chased by packs of rabid dogs?

  Josslyn Wynn was the reason he’d spent many thousands of dollars trying to sort out false allegations and non-molestation orders so he’d gain at least some access to his own child. And now that very same lawyer had invited him to dinner? He was itching to surprise the cooking-mad, lesbian feminist who’d wrecked his life. Every letter signed by her had cost him money or peace of mind.

  He’d met her sister the previous evening without knowing it. Anna was his friend Jason’s new girl – pale hair, hot body, great legs. It was plain Jace was very attracted, even if Anna seemed somewhat out of his league with her diamond ear-studs and classy manners.

  And now this. A summons to fill a dinner party ‘extra man’ role for the sister at very short notice. Unexpected, but far from unwelcome.

  He tapped out the numbers on the apartment’s security pad, and a few seconds later a female voic
e said, “Yes?”

  Even that one word sounded abrasive.

  “It’s Cam,” he growled.

  “Releasing it now. Come up to ten.”

  Of course she wouldn’t be down amongst the traffic fumes. No doubt he’d helped finance the place with her everlasting fees.

  He pushed through the heavy glass door to the lobby and it swung shut behind him with a sharp clunk when the magnetic lock re-engaged.

  ‘Ground floor,’ the syrupy elevator voice announced.

  Cam had deliberately dressed with what he hoped was offensive casualness. Carrying the bundled-up remains of his birthday cake, and some beers in case he was expected to drink over-dry, mouth-shrinking wine, he stepped out onto the tenth floor. A seriously good acoustic guitar piece replaced the tinny elevator music, and he turned toward the sound. One of the other dinner guests stood at an open doorway. Her dark gold hair was pinned up in a style his fingers wanted to tear down, her face was so perfect it looked airbrushed, and her curvy body had been poured into a second-skin black dress.

  His cock stirred, and he inhaled sharply. Why the fuck hadn’t he dressed up? Brought flowers instead of beers and a chunk of cake? Had a decent shave?

  Her blue-eyed gaze tracked him as he approached, and she stood a little taller on her precarious heels. This tilted her rack quite deliciously for his inspection, and caused Cam to abandon his casual lope and draw himself up to his full six feet three.

  “Josslyn Wynn,” she said, still holding his gaze, and offering him a hand tipped with burgundy fingernails.

  Cam narrowed his eyes. Not possible. No way. He’d always pictured her as a sour-faced shrew in a prickly tweed skirt and horn-rimmed glasses.