by Marta Brown
Sun-Kissed Summer
By Marta Brown
Copyright © 2015 by Marta Brown
All Rights Reserved
Published by VP Publishing House
Image Copyright © EpicStockMedia
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author or publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. All references to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locals are intended for authenticity to advance the fictional narrative. All characters and events are fictitious. Any and all similarities to real persons, living or dead are coincidental and are not intended by the author.
For my mom
xoxo
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Thanks
About the Author
Other Books by Marta Brown
Chapter 1
Katie
Trying for the third time to zip my suitcase closed, I give up and admit defeat. I guess I don’t really need another sweatshirt since Florida in the middle of July is typically scorching, but still, I like to be prepared. With a sigh, I yank out the bulky garment, and then smile when I fill the now-empty space with another book. Because while I might not need another zip-up hoodie—no one can have enough books. Well, at least I can’t.
This time, with far less grunting, my suitcase zips closed with ease and I blow out a relieved breath, glad to be finished packing.
My sister on the other hand? Not so much.
Her bright pink suitcase with the white polka dots, identical to mine except for the ‘Reading is Sexy’ sticker I slapped on the front corner to tell the two apart, since Mom let her pick them both out, is lying wide open in the middle of her bedroom floor amidst a sea of brightly colored dresses, tank tops, and short shorts strewn around like a hurricane just hit.
But Jessica is like that. A hurricane. No. More like a parade. A parade inside a hurricane, to be exact. A perfect, five-foot-nine, slender, blonde hurricane, with all the fun, sights, and sounds of a parade swirling chaotically in gale-force winds. Yep. She is a force to be reckoned with. And also the worst procrastinator ever.
Leaning against the doorjamb, I steal a peek into her suitcase and find nothing but a yellow string bikini and her passport lying inside. Simultaneously having to stop myself from laughing at how far behind she is and pulling my hair out, I go with a little of both. Smiling, I cross my arms and huff, “Jess, you do know we have to leave for the airport in less than an hour, right?”
“What? Are you kidding me?” she shouts from the back of her closet as another sundress, this one purple with lace scallops lining the hem, flies out and flutters to the floor. “I’m never going to be ready in time.”
No freaking kidding.
“Oh, hey, can you do me a favor and grab my makeup bag from the bathroom?” she asks after emerging from the depths of her closet with her arms full of shoes. “Oh, and my purse from downstairs?”
“Anything to speed this along,” I say, shaking my head at my older sister as I take in the time. Forty-five minutes. “You know I hate being late.”
“I’m well aware, Katie, but relax, would you? We won’t be late, I promise.” She drops the shoes into her suitcase with a thud and smiles. “See, almost done.”
Cute.
With a roll of my eyes, I hurry down the stairs and out of the eye of the storm. When the doorbell rings, it stops me in my tracks. The shuttle is already here? Wow. That’s early even for me.
“Crap,” Jessica shouts, her voice echoing through the house as clear as a summer day—despite what sounds like a full-fledged Cat-5 happening upstairs.
“I’ve got it,” my little brother Kody screeches from the living room before running down the hall and flinging open the door.
“Hey there, Kode-man,” my sister’s boyfriend says, ruffling Kody’s hair when he saunters through the front door before giving me a small nod hello. Oh, great. No shuttle. Just another distraction for Jessica.
Snatching Jess’ purse off the table in the hallway I shove it into Nathan’s hands and narrow my eyes. “Tell her we have thirty minutes.”
“Got it,” he says as Mom comes in from the kitchen with a dish towel draped over her shoulder.
“Is the shuttle here already?”
“Ah, no, it’s just me, Mrs. Quinn. Came to say goodbye to Jess.”
“Oh, Nathan. Nice to see you again.” Mom smiles, dusting flour from her hands. “Jess is upstairs finishing packing, but should be done soon,” she says as she shares a look with me, her lips pressed into a tight line to keep from laughing. Yeah, right. Try just starting. “Go on up if you dare.”
“But keep the door open,” Dad barks from the den where he and Kody have resumed their game of Mario Kart, sending Nathan hightailing it up the stairs.
“Twenty minutes,” I shout after him before he disappears down the hallway and into Jess’ room, the door shutting with a quiet click.
“You all set, sweetie?” Mom asks, walking back into the kitchen and resuming her latest Pinterest challenge. Cake pops. Which look more like lopsided doughnut holes stuck on shish-kebab skewers, but she doesn’t seem to care. And I don’t either when I pop one in my mouth.
“Ugh, those are like a million calories, you know?” Jessica says, startling me from over my shoulder a few minutes later as she drags Nathan outside. I consider yelling we have ten more minutes, but what’s the point? We’re going to be late. Like always thanks to Jessica-the-calorie-counting-procrastinating-hurricane-parade.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I say to Mom, popping another chocolate-covered ball in my mouth and humming. Man, my sister doesn’t know what she’s missing. But then again, if I wore shorts half as short as hers, I might care, too.
“Good. I spoke with Grandma Betty this morning and she’s all set to pick you up at the airport. I let her know that the cruise line has a bus service Jess will take to the boat, so you guys won’t have to worry about fighting Miami traffic to get her there on time, okay? Just be sure to text Grandma and let her know when you make the flight, so she can head out.”
“When?” I give Mom a silent look as I grab one more cake ball from the cookie tray. “More like, if we make the flight.”
Mom tries to reassure me with a knowing smile since she knows how much I hate to be late—especially when traveling—but it won’t be the first time I’ve had to run from the security checkpoint to the gate as the entire airport stares at us because of Jess.
Just the thought of having all those eyes on me, all that attention, makes me squirm in my seat, while Jessica, on the other hand, absolutely loves it. She always says a girl should be fashionably late to everything but a hair appointment and her period. I’m not sure my sister and I could be an
y more different.
Glancing out the window, I’m reminded of that fact implicitly. Jessica sits on the open tailgate of Nathan’s truck with her legs wrapped around his waist as he kisses her like I’ve only read about in books; the rain-soaked, steal-your-breath, and they-lived-happily-ever-after type of kiss.
I swear the only thing missing is the pouring rain, since I can practically see her breath hitch when he runs his hand up the length of her thigh before they finally break apart, both of them panting as they stare into each other’s eyes.
Yep. I’ve definitely never been kissed like that. A peck during a game of truth or dare in ninth grade at an honor society retreat, and then one awkward goodnight kiss with Aaron Mitchell after covering the prom together for yearbook hardly counts as an earth-shattering, toe-curling, epic kiss that stories are built on.
Nope. Definitely never been kissed like that.
Unlike my sister, who could probably fill an entire box set of romance novels with all her past experiences. I’d be lucky to fill a Post-it note at this point. Which might be a problem—considering I want to be a writer someday. Or at least I’m considering majoring as one in the fall. That is, if I have anything to write about.
I tear my eyes away from Jess and Nathan as they say their final goodbyes, snatch my book off the kitchen counter, and plop down on the couch. While I might not be able to write about an epic romance from experience, I figure I have a little bit of time to read about them since I’m pretty sure there is no way in hell Jess is going to be ready in the next five minutes to leave.
Good thing I told her the shuttle was coming thirty minutes earlier than it actually is.
…
This time when the doorbell rings, it really is the shuttle service. But after watching Jess and Nate make out/say goodbye for the last half hour, I’m resigned to the fact we’re still going to be late. The shuttle guy, on the other hand, doesn’t know it yet—but by the way he’s pacing the driveway waiting on us, I think he’s starting to figure it out. Maybe I should have told her the shuttle was coming a whole hour earlier. Stupid me.
“Jess, it’s here,” I shout, running up the stairs to grab my suitcase and to help her finish stuffing hers if necessary.
Jessica stands at the top of the landing with a smug look on her face, her suitcase packed and sitting on the floor next to mine.
I stop on the last step and gape. “No. Way.”
She tosses her hair over her shoulder and smiles sweetly. “See? Told you I’d be ready,” she says, before calling Dad to come and grab the bags while I pick my jaw up off the floor.
“Are you two sure you really want to spend the summer away from home?” Dad asks, lumbering up the stairs with a giggling Kody on his back before setting him down next to me. I wrap my arms around my little brother and give him a huge hug.
“Hey, just think, in a few more years, you can come down to Grandma and Grandpa’s for the whole summer, too. That is if you don’t mind smelling like limes and powdered sugar all day.” Which I don’t since it’s my favorite smell of all. The smell of summer.
“Ugh. No way. Summer vacation is supposed to be fun, not work,” he says with all the wisdom of his eight years. “I’ll pass.”
I laugh. He has a point. But he also doesn’t want the new MacBook Pro for college in the fall either. And that, unfortunately, takes lots of work to buy. But lucky for me, working at my grandparent’s restaurant for the summer doesn’t feel so much like work since I get to do it with my best friend Oliver.
“No, I think I’d rather go on a cruise like Jessica is,” Kody says, wrapping his arms around my sister’s waist and giving her a hug, too. “Now that sounds like fun.” I stifle a sigh at the fact that at only eight years old, even he gets that Jess is the fun one. Or at least, she puts fun first since her weeklong cruise to Mexico and back with her sorority sisters is costing her almost as much as my computer will, so she’ll have to put in plenty of hours at the restaurant when she gets back to pay for it.
“All right, my girls,” Dad says, either sensing my growing impatience or the meter running downstairs. Maybe both. “Let’s get you two on the road since I think the shuttle guy is charging me by the minute.” He smiles, grabbing our suitcases only to drop them both back to the ground with a thump. “What in the world did you two pack? Are you trying to smuggle Nate in one of these?” he asks Jess, “And an entire encyclopedia set in the other?” he says to me.
“Practically,” I say.
At the same time, Jess says, “As if.”
Dad laughs. “No, seriously, what is in here? Because I’m pretty sure you are both way over the weight limit.”
“Books.”
“Shoes.”
We say simultaneously—again causing Dad, and now Kody, to double over in laughter.
“Well, that’s my girls,” he says, shaking his head. His eyes are bright with love as he pulls out the long handle on each bag and lets them roll down each step with a thunderous thump behind him. “Can’t risk throwing my back out since Oliver promised to teach me how to kite surf when we come down to visit at the end of the month.”
This time, I’m the one on the verge of doubling over in laughter. Dad on a kite board? Now that is funny. Almost as funny as me on one.
At the bottom of the stairs, Mom holds out a bag of cake pops, minus the skewers, for each of us. I take mine while Jess shakes her head no. “I better not; gotta save room for all the margaritas I’m gonna have.”
“Jessica—” Mom presses her hands over Kody’s ears in mock horror since we’ve all seen Mom and Dad partake in plenty of Cinco de Mayo’s at the annual neighborhood fiesta they hold each year.
Jess laughs, giving Mom a hug. “Man, it’s nice to finally be twenty-one,” she says before dropping her voice so that this time, Kody really can’t hear her since Mom’s hands still cover his ears. “Now I don’t have to steal sips from your glass when you’re not looking.
Mom cocks her head to the side and sighs, despite trying to suppress a smile. “You are too much like your father for your own good.”
“Okay, we are seriously going to be late now,” I say, giving Mom a hug and trying to hurry this along. Otherwise, I won’t have to worry about running through the airport to our gate, because not even Jessica can charm her way onto a plane that’s already taken off. Although… she would try—and who am I kidding—she’d probably succeed.
“And that, my dear, makes you too much like your mother,” Dad says, wrapping me up in his arms and kissing me goodbye on the cheek. “Don’t ever change, ‘kay, kiddo?”
I toss my carry-on bag over my shoulder and smile. “I don’t think you have to worry about that happening, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
“All right, let’s go already. Vámonos. Vámonos, mi hermana. Por favor,” Jess says, giving Mom and Dad another hug before pulling her passport and ticket out of her purse, grabbing my arm, and dragging me out the door like I’m the one who’s going to make us late.
It’s about damn time.
As we zip down the freeway, I finally breathe a sigh of relief to be on our way—excited that in a couple of hours we’ll be breathing in the warm, tropical Florida air. Not that there’s anything wrong with Connecticut air, but there is just something about the smell of Florida that reminds me of the fun I’ve had since I was Kody’s age, spent on the shore with Oliver, Grandma, and Big Pop.
“So? Are you going to miss me?” Jess asks, staring at her phone while she types out a text. Probably to Nathan.
“Not as much as you’re going to miss Nathan,” I say in a singsong voice like Kody would before declaring girls have cooties and he’s never going to date anyone.
Jess lets out a breathy laugh. “Considering I broke up with him, nah.”
What? I spin in my seat. When did that happen? Between the longing looks or the thigh rubbing?
“What happened?” I ask, surprised at her nonchalance, considering Nathan has been her longest relationship yet.
<
br /> She shrugs. “No biggie. I’m gonna be gone for the whole summer, and it’s not like I was going to marry him or anything. And anyway, Katie, if you don’t know this by now, guys are jerks. They all want what they can’t have, and there’s no way in hell he was going to be faithful to me all summer since long-distance relationships never work. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he hooked up with someone later tonight.”
I furrow my brows. I know I don’t have a lot—or well, any—real experience with guys, but they can’t all be that bad, right? I mean, if they were all really that bad, there would never be another book, movie, or love song ever written again. Right?
“Sorry, little sis. It’s a fact.”
Refusing to be a cynic at eighteen, I cross my arms. “I think there are still some good ones out there.”
“Yeah, maybe in your books,” Jess says with a shrug as we pull up to the airport.
“Here’s your stop, ladies. You may want to do curbside check-in. It’s quicker,” the shuttle guy offers as he pulls our luggage out of the trunk and sets it on the sidewalk, wincing at its weight. I slip him the five-dollar bill Dad gave me to tip him with, and then take his advice given that we’ll definitely be running through the airport if security takes any longer than twenty minutes.
It does. And just like I predicted, Jess and I are running through the airport to our gate, which has already called our names over the intercom. Twice.
“We’re here. We’re here,” I say breathlessly when we rush the gatekeeper, our tickets in hand, silently praying they haven’t given our seats away already. Luckily for us, the counter attendant is a guy, and one flirty smile from Jess later, he’s plugging something into the computer and canceling our cancelation. The couple, standing off to the side with the hopeful faces, slumps back down into the plastic hangar chairs, looking as defeated as I felt moments ago while running through the terminal.
I suck in a lung full of air as my sister shoots me an ‘I told you so’ smile as we board the plane, relief washing over me that we made it just in time.
Too bad the plane didn’t get the memo.