Summer's Surrender

by LM Spangler

  With a smile, she made her way to the coffee shop. The morning crowd greeted her when she entered. Marleigh Truit, who owned the floral shop three buildings up from the coffee shop. Dennis Rayburn, who owned a dentist office down Canal Road, which intersected Main Street at the square, was drinking his morning brew. The Whitley sisters of Whitley Jewelers, the store on the south side of the square, were sipping beverages. An array of other people she knew were sitting at various tables chatting.

  Her attention fell to one person sitting alone at one of them.

  Ian.

  She couldn’t rip her gaze from his handsome face. He was chatting with someone at the neighboring table and hadn’t noticed her.

  A moment later, something caught his interest and he lifted his head. Their eyes locked. Ian had the most intense, dark brown eyes—looking more black than brown—that she’d ever seen, and they packed a wallop. They alone could set her afire—she had firsthand experience.

  Butterflies took wing in the pit of her stomach. The sheer power his stare held was immense and total. She was the deer and his gaze was the headlight.

  “You want the normal, Summer?”

  Turning her head in the direction of the voice, she broke the connection she and Ian had shared. “Huh? What?” she asked sheepishly.

  Raine laughed. “Do you want the regular?”

  Heat licked her face. She prayed it wasn’t lobster red. “Uh…Yeah. Large black, a large cream and sugar, and a Boston crème donut.”

  “You got it.” Raine grabbed a large foam cup with a coffee sleeve and filled it to the brim. She added a travel lid to the top and handed it to Summer, and then went to the donut case and scooped out her pastry selection. “You know how much.”

  “Know it by heart. I’ll grab Jolene’s on the way out.” Summer dug into her purse for what she owed for her purchase. Though they were family, they’d all agreed to pay for each other’s services just like everyone else. They all had to make a living. She handed Raine the exact amount, thanked her, and turned to find a table.

  To her utter dismay, they were all taken, even Nana’s normal spot in the corner. Her attention fell on Ian’s table. As if sensing her quandary, he motioned for her to join him.

  Her feet were rooted to the floor, which was so unlike her. She owned a business and considered herself a people person, able to strike up conversations with anyone. He wasn’t a stranger. Why did it feel like she was a teenybopper with her first crush?

  Probably because she was barely older than a teenybopper when they dated and he was her first real crush.

  Summer took a deep breath, steeling her resolve. She moved toward his table, reminding herself it was one foot in front of the other. When she managed to finish her approach, she couldn’t help but grin.

  The corner of his mouth lifted, exposing perfect white teeth. Captivating, obsidian eyes reflected his smile. “This place fills up in a hurry. Your sister has been successful. Please sit and join me.” Like a gentleman, Ian rose and motioned toward the empty seat across from his.

  “Thank you. Raine’s shop sells the best coffee and donuts in the area. How’s your shin?” She lowered herself into the vacant chair.

  “Fine, and is that so?” A sexy-as-sin smile crossed his face, and her pulse rate accelerated. A thoroughbred had nothing on her heartbeat.

  Her eyes met his and lingered perhaps longer than they should have. His pupils dilated. Tingles shot through her, electrifying every nerve ending, and her body roared to life. His eyes bore into her very soul, and she liked the feeling—alive and aware.

  Emotions like this were dangerous in a room full of people. With Herculean strength, she pulled her gaze away and searched for something else to focus on. The early morning beams of sun slanted through the front windows, making his hair come alive with auburn highlights. His expressive eyes now danced with laughter.

  “You look perplexed.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Hard to help me when you’re the reason I’m befuddled.” She shook her head, and then sipped her coffee. A strangled gasp escaped. She’d managed to scorch her tongue. “Oh, geez. Ouch, hot, hot, hot.” Her eyes watered, and she fanned her mouth like a madwoman.

  Ian opened a bottle of water.

  Without an invitation, she grabbed the bottle and guzzled half the contents. She inhaled deeply and glanced around the coffee shop. Half the patrons were staring at her. Her exhalation was much louder than she intended. Her face had heated up earlier, now it burned like a conflagration.

  “I scalded my tongue,” she said, the lameness evident in her voice.

  People whispered and went about their morning business.

  Raine brought her a cup of ice water. “I’ve done it a million times. But...” She winked and snickered. “I didn’t do it in front of a room full of people.”

  Summer narrowed her eyes. “That’s supposed to make me feel better how?”

  Her sister smirked. “By the way, meeting at Nana’s tomorrow after you and I close up our shops for the night. Colt will be there.”

  “That’s right. Colt will be on vacation.” Her tongue stung like a bitch, so she downed half the cup in a big gulp and chewed ice cubes. She hadn’t anticipated numbing her tongue and sounding like a drunkard. “I’llth...Thith ish unrealth.”

  Raine walked away laughing, and Ian leaned back in his chair with a chagrined look on his face.

  “Whath?” Summer asked.

  “You.”

  Her eyes narrowed again. “Whath…” She sipped her coffee in hopes of thawing her tongue and the remaining ice cubes. “What about me?”

  “Is it any wonder why I still love you?”

  And to add insult to injury, Summer swallowed an ice cube, and it lodged in her throat. She coughed and pounded her chest, freeing the cube. “You what?” Ian started to answer, but she held up a hand. “Nope. Don’t go there, please. I do, however, owe you an apology for shoving you yesterday. You ticked me off, but I overreacted. For that, I am sorry, but not for being pissed off.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough,” he admitted. “Apology accepted. I still care about you. You’re my biggest regret. Even bigger than being an alcoholic.”

  That comment took the wind that she had prepared to unleash, at hurricane force if necessary, out of her sails. “I think the whole world knows you had a drinking problem. I’ve seen pictures,” she whispered.

  He lowered his gaze, not meeting her eyes. Something inside her heart shifted unexpectedly. She had been so focused on her side of their relationship that she hadn’t seen his guilt, his shame.

  “This isn’t the place to discuss this,” she said.

  “It’s not, but I do want to talk to you about it.”

  His eyes met hers, so she acquiesced. “Tonight, after I close the store. There’s a great diner down the street. We’ll grab a late dinner.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t decided if I like you or not. Oh, I believe Colt threatened to kick your ass for hurting me. He’s a man of his word. But you’re welcome though.” She rose. “I need to go open my store.”

  “I’ll walk you to your store.”

  She shook her head. “Let me have the day to wrap my head around all of this.”

  He lowered himself onto his seat. “Fair enough,” he said for the second time in the conversation. “Until tonight.”

  She nodded. “Until tonight. I need to grab my assistant’s coffee and get it to her, or she’ll skin me alive. Bye.”

  Raine made short work of Jolene’s coffee, and Summer left the shop without being any closer to figuring out what to do about Ian. She had an inkling that her sisters, Nana, and now her brother, were about to muddy the waters further tomorrow night.

  * * * *

  As Ian was leaving Raine’s shop, his cellphone rang. The caller ID read Autumn Duncan. He hit the call answer button. “Hey, Autumn.”

 
“How are you?”

  “Good. And you?”

  “As right as rain. Mr. Donaldson can be at the store in a half hour. Can you meet us there?”

  “Sure can. I’m in the square now. I’ll run home, grab the check, and meet you.”

  “Cool. See you then. Bye.” She disconnected the call.

  Another puzzle piece fell into place, he thought as he slid his phone into his pocket. He had a new house in his hometown, and now he would be a small-business owner. He glanced at Summer’s store. Getting her back would be the last and most vital puzzle piece.

  Checking for oncoming traffic, he crossed Main Street and took a quick look in his soon-to-be store. Something was on the floor that hadn’t been there yesterday. He stepped closer. It was a package.

  He shrugged and hurried home to grab the cashier’s check he’d had his bank draw up yesterday after his unfortunate tangle with a reckless driver. He’d also need his checkbook to pay any surprise fees that popped up.

  After walking home and back to the property, he peered through the store window, trying to figure out what was in the box.

  He turned as Autumn pulled to the curb in a hot, sleek, red sports car. Mr. Donaldson had accompanied her. The man was in his seventies, with a heavily lined face, lines that told many stories. His graying hair had begun to thin, and it stuck out in every which direction, thanks to Autumn having the top down. His broad grin proved he appreciated her mode of travel.

  His eyes were sharp, intelligent, never missing a detail. Truth be told, Ian admired the man. He’d lived a long life and showed no signs of stopping.

  Autumn had chosen khaki, tailored slacks and a matching blazer with a tank top the color of ripe tomatoes. She was very attractive, and years ago, he would have been all over her. Then he met Summer and every woman paled in comparison to her sleek body, soft with hidden muscle underneath.

  He silently chastised himself. Business before pleasure. Work on one thing at a time. Ian wasn’t going anywhere and had all the time in the world to show Summer how much she meant to him.

  “Beautiful day to sell a hardware store,” Mr. Donaldson said as he slid out of the car and stood next to Ian. “Beautiful day to recycle the old girl.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Ian offered his hand, and Mr. Donaldson grasped it. Ian was surprised the handshake was firm and strong. Ian’s uncle, who’d raised him, had taught Ian to always give and appreciate a strong handshake. That, along with various other tidbits of advice, stuck with Ian.

  “So, Miss Duncan says you’re turning it into a music store.”

  “Yes, sir. I was fortunate in the fact that my aunt and uncle raised me with a love for music. It’s gotten me to where I am today.” They hadn’t done much else for him.

  “Mr. Jacobs plans to sell a wide array of instruments. Everything from drums to violins. It’s going be a huge hit,” Autumn said as she entered her code into the key box. It clicked open, allowing her to remove it. “Let’s take this to the counter.” The package caught her attention. “Were you expecting a package, Mr. Donaldson?”

  He scratched his head. “No, ma’am.” He faced Ian. “Were you expecting anything?”

  “No. I already have the first round of merchandise ordered, but it isn’t set to arrive today.”

  Autumn toed the package with the pointed tip of her shoe and then leaned over it. She straightened. “Are you sure you weren’t expecting a package, Ian?”

  He moved to the opposite side of the package. “Huh. It’s got my name on it, but there’s no address or return address. Strange.” He rubbed his chin. “I’ll open it when I get home. Why don’t we take care of what we came here to do?”

  Reaching inside his suit coat, he retrieved the cashier’s check and his checkbook. He handed the cashier’s check to Autumn so she could record the payment on the official paperwork for the building. Not only was she a real estate agent and interior designer, she was also a notary. The transaction took a half hour. The sale was straight forward, neat, and tidy.

  Ian could’ve sworn the keys to the building were electrified. The feeling started in his hand, traveled up his arm, spread through the rest of his body, and finally settled in his heart.

  It was pride. He hadn’t felt the emotion in more years than he cared to admit, but Jacob’s Music would become a reality. Step three clicked into place. Two more steps to complete.

  Step one and two had already happened. Step three had transpired. Step four would be the meeting he’d be attending Wednesday night—Alcoholics Anonymous. The last step would be gaining Summer’s trust and love again.

  When the trio stepped outside, Mr. Donaldson bid Ian and Autumn farewell as he left to join his son at the coffee shop.

  “How about a congratulatory dinner tonight?” she asked Ian. “My treat.”

  A sly grin crossed his face. “I have a date tonight.”

  She tilted her head and raised a brow. “Anyone I know?”

  A chuckle rose from deep in his chest. “You added the grease to the cogs.”

  Autumn rounded the car, settled behind the wheel, and tied her hair back with a bright red scarf that matched the color of her tank top. “I’m going to give you some advice because I’ve always liked you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t screw this up, Ian. Do. Not. Break. Her. Heart…again.” She slid her sunglasses into place. “I love her. Hurt her again, and I will hunt you down and hurt you.”

  He snorted. “I’d hate to hear what you say to people you don’t like.”

  “Ha!” She left him shaking his head as she merged with traffic.

  Hoisting the mystery package with his name on it, he chose a leisurely pace as he walked home, making a mental note not to mess with Summer’s family. So far both Colt and Autumn had threatened him.

  He made it home without incident, unlike yesterday. Using his hip to shut the door, he set the parcel on his coffee table, removed his suit coat, and tossed it on the arm of his couch. He strode through the living room into the kitchen to retrieve a knife to open the package.

  There was nothing remarkable about the way his name was penned in neat print, nor was the writing familiar. He opened the package…and was taken aback. Nestled in bubble wrap was a speedometer. He unwrapped the packing material and grasped the old model, horizontal speedo coated in what looked like brake dust. Unease skittered up his spine. Yesterday he was almost hit by a car manufactured in the 1970’s, and now this? He tried desperately to put one and one together, only to come up with zero.

  Worrying about something as innocuous as a speedometer was ridiculous. It was just a hunk of plastic. Very dirty plastic. He rose and walked to the half bath to wash the dust off his hands.

  He had better things to worry about, such as his date with Summer. Sure, it was a diner, but he was going to that diner with her. It was a start. His one chance to make it right. To make her fall in love with him all over again. The physical part of their relationship still burned hot. Heaven would fall to earth if he made love to her again. They’d set the sheets on fire two years ago. They’d caused an inferno of pure white-hot heat. She’d been so receptive in the past. Her body would melt under him and he’d devour her, yet never get enough.

  And now he needed a cold shower. Blood hummed through him, settling on a lower part of his anatomy. Laughing to himself as he made his way upstairs to his bedroom, he stripped off his clothing, and as his aunt had taught him, put his dirties in the hamper.

  Ian strode naked from his bedroom to his bathroom down the hall. The room was a far cry from what he used to have in Los Angeles. It’d been remodeled only three years earlier in gray slate, crisp white subway tile, and black porcelain flooring. The room served his purposes.

  The tile was cool underfoot as he started the shower. Once it heated up, he stepped into the enclosure and closed the door behind him. Hot water ran in rivulets down him as he soaped his hair and body. Not one for long showers, he rinsed, turned off the water, and stepped out.


  He dried off with a black terry cloth towel he’d purchased to match the existing décor of the bathroom. That was the extent of his design skills. He’d have to take Autumn up on her offer to become his interior designer for the store. He knew what he liked, but he’d be catering to a much broader audience, not just himself.

  He ambled to his bedroom, searched his closet for the nicest jeans he owned as well as a lightweight, long-sleeved shirt. Finding both, he threw the shirt on his king-sized bed and hitched his jeans over his hip, not bothering with either underwear or buttoning his pants.

  He had hours before heading to Summer’s shop.

  Ian pulled his wallet and cellphone from his pocket, fished out a business card, and dialed the attorney he’d hired to handle some aspects of his business such as applying for permits, creating a limited liability company, etcetera. Ian could handle employee hiring should the need arise.

  After completing his call, he moseyed to the basement and played his guitar, getting lost in the sound and emotions of the notes he strummed. Like always, the instrument became an extension of him, became a part of him, part of his heart.

  The only thing that would make it better was if Summer was there with him.

  Nine hours until he picked her up for their date.

  They’d likely be the longest nine hours of his life.

  * * * *

  The jingling bell over the front door had Summer rising from her desk. Ian arrived at Duncan Candles fifteen minutes before seven o’clock.

  Jolene’s eyes lit up. “Mr. Jacobs. How nice to see you.”

  “Thank you, and my friends call me Ian.”

  Soft pink blushed her cheeks.

  “Don’t fluster my employee,” Summer suggested. She leaned against the doorjamb with her ankles and arms crossed.

  “I don’t fluster you anymore so I’ve moved on.” He winked at Jolene. Her blush deepened.

  “Ha! I’m about to pour some candles. Why don’t you join me downstairs?”

  “I’ll shut down and leave through the back door if you’re still down there,” Jolene told Summer.