Hot Summer Lovin’

by Parker, Ali

  “Thanks, Mr. Duncan. I appreciate it.” My eyes narrowed on a confused frown. I hadn’t gotten his power fixed yet, so I had no idea why he would say I was good at it. I didn’t want to throw the compliment back in his face, though. He was only being polite. “I’ve always loved working with my hands, so it seemed like a good option for me.”

  “I’ll definitely recommend you to my friends,” he continued, thankfully stepping away from me to sink into a nearby armchair. “Around here, we’re always having problems with our electricity.”

  “It’s the old trees.” I was just making conversation now, trying to give the man the best service I could. “If it’s not the roots clogging the plumbing, it’s the branches interrupting the service.”

  “A curse and a blessing.” Mr. Duncan lifted up the curtain tucked against the side of the armchair he was in, gazing lovingly at the tall trees outside. “I used to have a pool out there. The leaves those bad boys shed kept me busy every weekend, but I tell you, I don’t know what we would have done without their shade.”

  “I hear you.” He kept prattling on while I worked, but I was concentrating too hard to listen too closely to what he was saying. I made noises of agreement and inserted questions where I realized he was waiting for some kind of reply, but mostly I was trying to restore his power.

  A few minutes later, I flicked a switch and held my breath. If the fix I’d just applied didn’t work, I’d be fucked. Thankfully, I heard the television come on behind me and the low hum of the standing fan starting up.

  “I think that should do it, Mr. Duncan. You should look into replacing those things I told you about earlier, though, or it’ll probably keep happening.”

  “If it’s not going to cost too much, I’ll make the appointment with your boss so you can come out and do it next week.”

  “Sure thing, I’ll have him send you a quote. If you accept it, I’ll be back as soon as I’ve got a minute.”

  The next words Mr. Duncan tried to say were drowned out by the sudden chatter of the news on the television. The TV was an older model and had taken some time to regain connectivity.

  The words “bank robberies” drew my attention away from packing up my shit and to the image of a newsman standing outside the bank we had robbed just last week. “There has been a string of bank robberies in Tampa, Florida. Millions of dollars have been—”

  Mr. Duncan appeared next to me, speaking over the newscaster. “Have some tea with me, son. I’ll make us a new pot. Chamomile okay with you?”

  I nodded thoughtlessly, only realizing I’d agreed to hang around here for longer when I heard the kettle whistling from the kitchen. My eyes were glued to the screen, my hands shaking as I saw just how many uninformed people were walking into and out of the bank.

  A cup of tea was pressed against my hand, the sudden scorching heat pulling me back to the here and now. “Thank you, Mr. Duncan.”

  “No problem. Have a seat.” He settled back into the armchair he’d vacated to make the tea, his eyes flickering toward the news. “Can you believe this? It’s been going on for years, and they’ve only got the Feds involved now. If you ask me, I almost hope they don’t catch the guys.”

  Ignoring my thundering pulse, I tried to keep calm. “Yeah, why’s that?”

  “The authorities have been useless on this.” Mr. Duncan shrugged. “They should get what’s coming to them.”

  Thank fuck that they have been useless. “I agree.”

  Both of us fell silent as our gazes turned back to the news to catch the end of the broadcast. “The police are currently looking into some evidence, but we’ve been told there are no real leads.”

  I released an internal sigh of relief at that bit of news, any worry I might have felt melting off me.

  “They’ll never catch them anyway,” Mr. Duncan said. “They’ve been getting away with it for too long now.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed again, but only because I had nothing else to say. It was unlikely at this point that we would get caught … unless we did something stupid.

  I finished my cup of tea, which had luckily been small, and stood up to gather my tool kit. Just as I was about to leave, I caught another couple of sentences from the news. “While the police have no solid leads on the identities of these men, here is a reminder of what the public have been asked to keep an eye out for.”

  A clip started playing of a man wearing a dark suit. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was one of the new agents who had been assigned to the case. His voice was deep and authoritative, his black hair cut so short it was little more than a buzz cut.

  “The suspects we are looking for are male. They’re in their late twenties to early thirties and have tattoos. We believe they’re local to the area.”

  I nearly dropped my fucking tool kit. How was that having no leads?

  Blood roared in my ears and my stomach bottomed the fuck out. How could they possibly know all of that?

  Mr. Duncan cast a concerned eye over me. “Are you okay there, son? Looks like you’re about to pass out.”

  Fuck. The last thing I needed was for Mr. Duncan to realize I matched the description the agent had just given perfectly, and then to connect the dots between that and me standing there like I’d grown goddamn roots to the spot when the description was given.

  Forcing an easy smile, which felt like it was going to crack my face in half, I tightened my grip on my kit with sweaty fingers. “I’m fine. Just haven’t had enough water or food today for this heat.”

  Mr. Duncan laughed, nodding his mostly bald head. “Dehydration can be a bitch. I should have offered you a glass of water instead of tea. Would you like some? Perhaps a sandwich too?”

  I waved my hand, making sure to keep the smile frozen on my face. “That’s okay, Mr. Duncan. I have a break coming up now anyway. I’d hate to take up any more of your time. Thanks for the tea.”

  “Sure thing.” He opened his front door, reminded me to send him a quote for fixing the main problems with his power, and said his goodbyes.

  I walked in a daze to my truck after the door shut, setting my toolbox down with a much louder than usual thud before sliding into my seat. A quick glance in my rearview mirror made me wince. I looked fucking guilty.

  My eyes were slightly wild, pupils enlarged while my eyes still somehow lacked luster. Sweat dotted my forehead and flowed in thin streams down my temples. I felt suddenly nauseated and thirsty as fuck.

  A bottle of water lay in the footwell of my passenger seat. It was practically boiled from having been in the hot truck all morning, but I didn’t care. I gulped it down as if it were iced and then tried to control my breathing, wiping the sweat from my skin with my shirt.

  This was bad. Very bad. It didn’t seem possible that the police could have that much information on us and not know who we were. I needed to talk to Rayce. We’d talked about contingency plans once or twice, and it felt like we should solidify some of those now.

  The thought that fleeing would mean leaving Heidi behind darted into my mind, but I pushed it away fast. I couldn’t think about her right now. Not about her, her laugh, how much fun she was, or how goddamn heavenly her pussy was. Fuck, I’d come so hard, I—

  No. Our night together had been fantastic, but it was still only one night. If Rayce and I were caught, our entire futures were on the line. I couldn’t allow one night to distract me from that undeniable fact.

  As soon as I was calm enough to drive, I hightailed it to Rayce’s apartment. He was lounging on his couch in his sweats when I got there, watching a rerun of a popular sitcom. There was laughter in his eyes and his mouth was hooked up at the corners.

  “Will. Hey, man, what are you doing here?”

  I reached for the remote lying on his coffee table and shut the show off. He turned to glower at me, losing all traces of humor on his face. “What the fuck, dude? I was watching that.”

  “We need to talk.”

  His eyes narrowed to slits. “About fucking wh
at?”

  “The police are getting closer to us, Rayce. I just saw a report where they gave out pretty fucking accurate descriptions of us.”

  “What? The age and tattoos thing?” He raised both of his eyebrows before he started laughing, tipping his head back against the couch.

  “You knew about that?”

  “It’s not horseshoes and hand grenades, bro. Calm the fuck down, we have nothing to worry about. Do you have any idea how many guys in our age range have tattoos and are from Florida? They don’t have shit on us.”

  Unease made my stomach clench. I hated how nonchalant Rayce was being about this. We had to take this seriously, or we could lose everything. Even the things we didn’t really have yet.

  Chapter 16

  Heidi

  “Can I help you with that?” I pointed at the pile of vegetables on the kitchen counter at our house.

  Olive had a chopping board in front of her and was working her way through them all. She smiled but shook her head. “Nope, that’s okay. We can’t really afford for anyone to chop their fingers off right around now.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her just as Valerie came into the kitchen, grabbed an apple from our makeshift fruit bowl, which was actually an ice bucket, and took a giant bite out of it. She swallowed, then smirked and hopped up on the counter. “Are we talking about all the sex our girl had last night?”

  “We weren’t.” Olive flushed. It was adorable how uncomfortable she was talking about sex. She pointed at the chopping board with her knife. “We were talking about all these veggies that need chopping.”

  Val looked at the pile as if she hadn’t noticed it before, frowning at Olive. “Why do we need all those cut?”

  Olive sighed, going back to chopping while she talked. “We can’t live on takeout. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  “Why not?” I asked. Val and I were terrible cooks. Olive didn’t necessarily like it, but at least she wasn’t as likely to set the house on fire or give herself a serious injury while doing it. “We get our vegetables in when we order Chinese and stuff.”

  “It’s too expensive and it’s really not healthy to eat as much crap as you two do. You only get Chinese about one night out of the week. Pizzas, burgers, and ice cream don’t make for a very good diet.”

  “Diet of champions,” Valerie argued, taking another bite of her apple before holding it up. “This is a fruit, is it not? See, I won’t get scurvy.”

  Olive rolled her eyes, but a soft smile crept onto her lips. “Sure you won’t. Not as long as I make sure we only have healthy snacks in the house.”

  Valerie looked like she wanted to say something back to Olive on the topic, but then pressed her lips together and shook her head before sliding her eyes back to mine. “Let’s talk about your sex life instead. Even I know I’m not going to win this round with Mother Goose.”

  “How do you even know what happened between us last night?” I hopped onto the counter across from the one she was on, dangling my legs.

  Olive made a disapproving sound at the back of her throat, casting a pointing look at the stools only a few feet away from us. “First, it was written all over your face when you got home. Second, do you two not know what the difference is between a chair and countertop?”

  “This is more comfortable,” I said, not trying to be contrary, just honest. “Those stools feel like they’re going to collapse any minute.”

  “True that,” Valerie agreed. “Don’t try to weasel your way out of this one, though. Olive is right. You did have a certain kind of post-coital glow when you got home last night. Spill, girlfriend.”

  “Fine.” I told them all about my night out with Will, leaving out the personal information he’d told me during our game, and other bits and pieces I didn’t feel he would be comfortable with me sharing. “Then he drove me home, and you guys saw me before we all went to bed.”

  “That ride is probably only closed because there’s too much semen in it for it to be sanitary.” Olive smiled, and I was so proud of her for saying the word “semen” without blushing that I smiled too.

  “It’s possible, but he told me he hadn’t done it on the ride before.”

  Valerie waggled her brows, finishing off her apple and sliding off the counter to throw it away. “Aw, how romantic.”

  I flipped her off, laughing at the thought of how much I had liked it when he told me that. “I thought so.”

  She winked, coming to lean on the counter next to me instead of going back to hers. “I agree. I’m just jealous. I’ve always wanted to do it at the carnival or something, and that man is fucking fine. Was it good?”

  “Obviously,” Olive chimed in, flashing Val a cheeky grin. “Refer to the part of the conversation we had earlier about the post-coital glow.”

  “I was fishing for details, Mom,” Valerie protested while I shook my head.

  “You know me. I don’t kiss and tell. All I will tell you is that it was fucking good and that I wouldn’t mind seeing him again.”

  “I hope you do,” Val said. “I can live vicariously through you then. I have zero prospects on the horizon.”

  “I’m sure someone will cross your path.” From what I’d seen about the boys down here, there was no way Valerie would be staying single for long. “The guys here are gorgeous. Even those preppy assholes next door were hot. It’s too bad they were so damn creepy and drunk all the time.”

  Olive shifted her weight, reaching up to scratch the side of her neck. “On that note, we should talk. I hate to be a downer, but if we’re going to be staying down here, we’re going to need to get jobs.”

  “One more week of vacation?” Valerie slid her palms together with her fingers pointed up. “Please, Mommy?”

  Olive’s lips pressed into a thin line as she shook her head. “Nope. I’d have liked that, too, but we can’t afford it. In fact, I think we start looking for jobs today. The sooner the better.”

  “I agree. I want to stay here, but even without having to pay rent there are too many expenses for us to cover out of our savings.”

  “Since when did you get so practical?” Valerie asked, pursing her lips. “Back me up here, buddy. One more week of fun before we go back to being full-time adults.”

  I sighed, exchanging a glance with Olive. She gave me a look that pleaded with me to take her side, and I nodded. “I told you, Val. This is like paradise. I really don’t want to have to leave, and if we can’t afford to stay, that’s exactly what will happen.”

  “Okay,” she grumbled eventually. “Let me just grab my purse and then we can go.”

  Olive ended up letting me help her with the veggies and we finished them up before heading out. We decided to walk along the beach, thinking that if we could manage to find something together and within walking distance, we’d save on transportation costs. It would be safe enough to walk home after a late shift provided there were at least two of us walking together at a time.

  We stopped into a couple of beachside stores, kiosks, bars, and cafés, but struck out for the first hour. After that, though, we got lucky.

  Olive spotted a sign in the window of a beachside restaurant saying that they wanted help and made a beeline for it. It was a gorgeous little place, painted white on the outside with blue accents. There was a small wooden deck dotted with navy blue umbrellas and round, plastic tables.

  Grabbing our hands, Olive dragged us inside the second we hit the deck. I had only managed to get a quick glimpse at the menu on a stand outside the door, but noticed it seemed like typical fare. Nothing too fancy or complicated.

  “Welcome to the Blue Bell,” a woman with kind, but tired eyes greeted us. “Would you like a table for three?”

  We shook our heads but left it to Olive to do the talking. If any of us had a chance at getting us those jobs they were advertising in their window, it was her. “No, we’re here to apply for the waitressing positions.”

  She smiled sweetly and inclined her head in the direction
of the sign. The woman’s shoulders dropped and relief flashed in her eyes after she’d given us a long, assessing look.

  “Oh, thank God. You’ve come as if you’ve been sent by the angels themselves. We’ve been buried by clients after we added the deck and did the remodel. You three look all right. You’re not drug addicts or anything, are you?”

  “No, ma’am,” Olive said, her eyes stretching wide in horror. “Definitely not. I worked at a diner in New York for three years, and I can provide excellent references.”

  I noticed that Olive didn’t mention any experience or recommendations for Val or me, but that was okay. Twenty minutes and a meet and greet with the woman’s husband, who just so happened to own the diner, and we had jobs.

  Holding up my palm for Olive to high five when we got back outside, I smiled and smacked a kiss to her cheek. “You’re a freaking rock star, O! I can’t believe you just pulled that off.”

  She slapped my offered palm, flushing but returning my smile. “Thank you. I can’t believe it, either, but it’s made everything feel more real now. We’ve really moved to Florida, and we start working tomorrow. It’s incredible. This can really be the start of a new life for us.”

  “That’s for sure.” I didn’t want to lie and say that when I thought of “us,” I didn’t include Will in that thought. I definitely wanted to see more of him, but I didn’t want to jinx it after only one date.

  Valerie nodded, then jerked her head to a newspaper headline on a newsstand we walked past. “And if these jobs of ours don’t work out, we can always start robbing banks like those guys in the paper. Have you seen that story? They’ve gotten away with millions in all. We could use a life with no jobs. Can you imagine?”

  There was a dreamy quality in her voice that deserved an elbow in the ribs, albeit a gently delivered one. I jabbed her, then quickly scooted away so she couldn’t retaliate. “What was that for?”

  “For sounding so damn infatuated with those robbers.” I said. “They’re pieces of shit, Val. Stealing from the public like that. What did we ever do to them?”