‘That was because it felt…weird…’
‘Weird?’
‘Yeah…’ Summer had to break the eye contact. ‘Different. Yeah…weird.’
‘Hmm.’ Another pause and then the query was interested. ‘Good weird or bad weird?’
Summer tried to remember that odd jolt. To feel it again. But all that she was aware of was a growing warmth in her belly, spreading into her limbs. A tingly, delicious kind of warmth.
‘I think…good weird.’
‘But you’re not sure?’
‘No…’ Oh, my… That look in Zac’s eyes right now. The sheer mischief. The intent…
‘I’m thinking there’s only one way to find out.’
Did he mean what she thought he meant? That he would have to kiss her again?
Had he really thought he’d been the one who’d initiated the kiss the other night?
There could only be one explanation for that. That they’d both been thinking exactly the same thing. At the same time.
And they were doing it again right now. Summer’s heart skipped a beat and picked up its pace.
Or maybe not.
‘Not here,’ Zac said. ‘It’s way too public.’
The disappointment was fleeting because the prospect of being somewhere more private was infinitely more exciting. Zac was already on his feet, ready to take her to that private place. Summer’s heart was still thumping and now her mouth felt a little dry.
Or maybe not.
‘Come and meet my gran.’
CHAPTER FIVE
HE’D WANTED TO take her home.
So he could kiss her again. Properly. Last time it had been a kind of accident that didn’t count but even the memory of that brief brush of their lips gave him a twist of very powerful desire. And Summer remembered it well enough to think it was different? Weird but good?
She had no idea how good it could be…
It would have sounded crass to say that out loud and it could well have scared her off completely so he’d had to come up with another reason to get them away from such a public place.
But introducing her to his grandmother?
Now they were stuck. Flint looked happy enough on the terrace outside and Summer looked happy enough inside. Zac had come back from taking a quick shower and changing his clothes to find her helping his gran put a salad together—to go with the massive salmon fillet that just happened to have been baking in the oven this evening.
Ivy Mitchell had been thrilled to meet Summer.
‘So you’re the girl who has the dog on the back of the board? I watch you every time, dear. With my telescope.’
‘Really?’ Summer looked disconcerted. ‘I had no idea people were spying on me.’
‘Oh, I spy on everybody, darling. I’m ninety-two. Nobody’s going to tell me off.’
‘I might,’ Zac growled. ‘You can’t go around spying on people, Gravy.’
‘I’m not gainfully employed. I sit on my terrace and the telescope’s right there. What’s a girl supposed to do?’
Summer was laughing. And shaking her head. ‘Gravy?’
Ivy smiled. ‘I told Isaac’s mum that I didn’t want to be called Granny. I wasn’t even sixty when he was born, for heaven’s sake. Far too young! I said he could call me Ivy, like a real person, but she said I had to be Gran. So it was supposed to be Gran Ivy but it was too hard for him when he was learning to talk so it came out as Gravy. And it stuck.’
‘I love it. The only grandmother I had was Nana, which seems terribly ordinary in comparison.’
‘Had?’
‘She died when I was quite young.’
‘What a shame. The older generation is a blessing. Your family must miss that.’
‘I don’t have any family. My mum died when I was seventeen and my father was already well out of the picture.’ Summer’s tone was brisk and Zac recognised that it was not a topic open to further discussion. It reminded him of that first day in the chopper when he’d asked whether she had any siblings. The impression that she could offer personal information but he was not allowed to ask had been so strong he still hadn’t tested those boundaries. He had boundaries of his own, didn’t he? It might be unspoken but there was an agreement between them now that precluded any more discussion of Summer’s friend Kate and her sister Shelley. Of the child he’d been accused of fathering.
Not that Ivy was likely to respect such boundaries. Except that this time she did. She opened her mouth but then closed it again, simply handing Summer a jar with a screw lid. ‘Throw this dressing on the salad, darling. I make it myself and it’s got a lovely garlic punch. So good for you, you know—garlic.’
‘It’s your secret to a long life, isn’t it, Gravy?’
‘That—and champagne, of course. Speaking of which, let’s refresh our glasses, shall we, Summer? Champagne and salmon—a marriage made in heaven.’
Zac took a pull at the icy glass of lager he held. The view from the upper level of this old house was extraordinary—like a huge painting of a beach scene with the background of the sea and the distinctive volcano shape of Rangitoto Island placed perfectly dead centre. Right now, there were vivid streaks of red in the sky as daylight ended with a spectacular flourish. He had always loved the changing panorama of this living painting. He loved this house. Right now, he loved that a contented dog lay with his nose on his paws guarding the house and its occupants. He could smell good food and he was with the person who meant the most to him in the world—his beloved Gravy.
Could life get any better?
Maybe it could.
He was also with an extraordinary newcomer to his life. The idea of getting to know Summer a great deal better was exciting. Maybe—just maybe—this was the woman who could capture him enough to be the person he had yet to find. The one who could come to mean as much—or possibly even more—than his only family member.
The possibility was as breathtaking as the view.
Zac watched the conspiratorial grin between the two women as they clinked champagne flutes and he had to smile. Kindred spirits? They were certainly getting on very well together. He just hoped that second glass of bubbles wouldn’t loosen his grandmother’s tongue any further. Bad enough that she’d already admitted spying on Takapuna residents as they enjoyed their beach. How much worse would it be if she started on another favourite theme—that it was high time her grandson found a nice girl and settled down to start making babies?
As if she felt both the gaze and his smile, Summer turned her head and her gaze locked with his. And there was that kick of desire in his gut again. How long would it take them to eat dinner and escape? To find somewhere they could be alone together?
Maybe Summer was telepathic. He could see the way her chest rose as if she was taking a deep breath. The way her eyes darkened, suggesting that her thoughts mirrored his. When the tip of her tongue appeared to wet her lips, he almost uttered a growl of frustration. However long dinner took, it was going to be too long.
If Summer was lucky enough to live until she was in her nineties, she wanted to be exactly like Ivy Mitchell.
A little taller than Summer, Ivy was very slim but it would be an insult to call her frail. She had long silver hair that was wound up into an elegant knot high on the back of her head and her clothing was just as chic, white Capri pants and a dark blue tee shirt with a white embroidered anchor on it. As someone with sea water in her veins, maybe that was why she’d instantly felt at ease with Zac’s grandmother.
Unusually at ease. Was it the age gap? Way too much to be a friend or a colleague. Too much, even, to be an age group that invited comparison to her mother, which was a good thing because Ivy’s relaxed confidence, that was so like her grandson’s, would have made her mother’s constant anxiety seem awkward.
Or maybe it was because she had the same warm brown eyes as her gorgeous grandson. Whatever the reason, Summer was enjoying herself and feeling increasingly relaxed, which was ironic because the energy level ema
nating from Ivy was leaving her feeling rather breathless.
Or maybe that had something to do with the way Zac was looking at her every time she met his gaze. As if he really liked what he was seeing. As if he couldn’t wait to see more.
And eating dinner with these two…
Oh, my…
Watching food going into Zac’s mouth and the way he licked the corners of his lips occasionally to catch a drip of salad dressing was doing very strange things to her equilibrium.
This was crazy. She’d only met him last week. Summer Pearson did not go around jumping into bed with men she’d only just met. Especially men she hadn’t even been on a date with. But what if time together counted, even if it hadn’t been prearranged? Sitting on a beach with someone was almost like a date, wasn’t it?
If Ivy had any idea of where her thoughts kept drifting, she wasn’t bothered.
‘So you live on a boat? I love that. But isn’t it a bit cramped?’
‘We manage. You do have to be tidy. And not collect too much junk.’
‘We?’ Ivy’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You have a man in your life, Summer?’
‘Ah…’ Summer kept her gaze firmly on the flakes of salmon she was spearing with her fork. ‘Only Flint. He has to be tidy, too.’
‘Of course he does.’ There was a satisfied note in Ivy’s voice and Summer looked up to catch the significant look she was giving Zac. There might have been an eyebrow wiggle involved as well.
It was cringe-worthy but then Zac grinned at her and winked and suddenly it was fine.
More than fine.
Summer grinned back. She had just fallen a little bit in love with Zac Mitchell.
‘You know, I think I’ve been a bit of a pelican,’ Ivy declared. ‘My eyes held more than my belly can. Do you think Flint might be able to finish this for me? Salmon’s not bad for dogs, is it?’
‘It would be a huge treat for him.’
‘Let’s bring him inside, then.’
‘Oh, I don’t think you want to do that. You have no idea how much sand gets trapped in those fluffy paws.’
‘Pfft…’ Ivy waved her hand. ‘What’s a bit of sand between friends? I track it in every day myself.’
Summer went to invite Flint inside. Ivy insisted on giving him the salmon off her own plate and Summer shook her head but she was smiling. She had just fallen a little bit in love with Zac’s grandmother as well.
‘Where does he sleep?’ Ivy asked. ‘On the boat?’
‘Yes. He has his own bed under the cockpit. A double berth, even.’
‘Oh…I hope you have a double berth, too…’
Zac’s sigh was clearly audible but Ivy winked at Summer. ‘Don’t mind me,’ she said in a stage whisper. ‘When you get to my age, you find you can get away with saying almost anything. Sometimes I might get a wee bit carried away.’
Summer smiled. ‘I have a very comfortable double bed, Ivy. It’s even got an inner-sprung mattress. Speaking of which…’ she only had to straighten and look towards the door and Flint was instantly by her side ‘… I’d better get going. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.’
Zac pushed his chair back and got to his feet.
The air seemed to have disappeared from the room. What was going to happen now? Would he show her out and kiss her goodnight? How likely was that when Ivy would probably be peeping from a window?
‘I’ll give you a lift,’ he said. ‘It’s too late to be jogging around the streets.’
‘Thanks, but I don’t let Flint run after a bike. It’s a bit dangerous.’
‘Ah…’ Zac was almost beside her now. ‘Unlike you, I keep four wheels as well as two. I have an SUV with a nice big space for a dog in the back.’
‘It’ll get full of sand.’ But Summer’s heart was doing that speeding up thing again. Zac was coming home with her? Would he want to stay for a while?
He was close enough to touch now. She could feel the heat of his body. Or maybe that was heat she was creating herself. A warmth that kicked up several notches as he grinned lazily.
‘What’s a bit of sand between friends?’
He kissed his grandmother. ‘Leave the dishes,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll pop in and do them when I get back.’
Ivy waved them off. ‘That’s what dishwashers are for. I’ll see you tomorrow, Isaac. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, now.’
Zac groaned softly as he closed the door behind them. ‘Sorry about that,’ he muttered. ‘She’s incorrigible.’
He’d never been in a yacht that was being used as a permanent home. He’d been sailing, of course. Anyone who grew up beside the sea in Auckland ended up with more than a passing acquaintance with sailing boats.
‘She’s thirty feet? Feels much bigger inside.’
‘It’s a great design. Small but perfectly formed.’
Just like Summer?
Zac had to drag his gaze away from her. He’d only just stepped aboard Mermaid and, while the invitation to see her home had been freely given, he didn’t want to push things too fast, here.
He didn’t want to wreck something. Not when so many possibilities were floating so close to touching distance. Mind you, if his gran hadn’t scared her off, he was probably in a good space right now.
An astonishing space. There was colour from the warm glow of all the woodwork. A rich blue cushion and padding covered the built-in bench seating around a narrow table and the colour was repeated in a strip of Persian-style carpet down the centre of the floor. The front of the boat’s interior was almost closed off by a folding fabric screen but he could see a glimpse of a raised bed with a soft-looking white duvet and fluffy pillows.
Once again, he had to avert his gaze before what he was thinking got printed all over his face.
‘Cute sink.’
‘It works well, even if it’s a single rather than a double. Gives a bit more bench room for cooking. I’ve got an oven here and even a microwave in this locker, see?’
‘Mmm.’
What he liked best about this space was that there wasn’t that much room for two people to move around, especially when there was a fairly large dog to avoid, and it was inevitable that they ended up standing extremely close to each other. He had to bend his head a little to admire the microwave oven tucked neatly into its storage space and that put his face extremely close to Summer’s as well. Without looking up, he lifted a hand to close the locker and, as he lowered his hand, it felt perfectly natural to brush the spikes of her hair. To let his hand come to rest at the nape of her neck.
To bend his head just a little further so that he could touch her lips with his own. Just a feather-light touch for a heartbeat and then he increased the pressure and touched her lips with his tongue. He felt Summer’s gasp as a physical change in her body—the kind of tension that a diver probably had in the moment before she launched herself into space to perform some dramatic series of tumbles and then slice cleanly into the deepest pool. And, as Summer’s lips parted beneath his, he knew she had taken that plunge and she was ready to fly.
He had no idea how long they stood there kissing. Zac was aware of nothing more than the delicious taste and the responsiveness of this gorgeous girl. And that the ground was moving slightly beneath his feet. Because they were on a boat? It felt more personal than that. His whole world was gently rocking.
Time had absolutely no relevance because it didn’t matter how long it took to explore this wonderful new world. The map was coming into focus and there was no hurry at all to find the right path. The way Summer took the lead to follow that path was possibly the most exciting part about it. She wanted this—as much as he did.
It was her hands that moved first, to disentangle themselves from around his neck to start roaming his body, and that gave him permission to let his own hands move. To shape the delicate bones of her shoulders and trace the length of her spine. To cup the deliciously firm curves of her bottom and the perfection of those surprisingly generous breasts.
It was
Summer who took his hand and stopped him undoing another button on the soft shirt she was wearing and, for a moment, Zac had the horrible thought that she was asking him to stop completely. He could, of course, but man, would he need a cold shower when he got home…
It was time to get rid of the audience. A quiet command sent Flint to his bed. Her voice might have wobbled a little but Summer was still holding Zac’s hand tightly. She led him to the other end of the boat. Past the screen and up a step to where her bed filled the whole space.
No. It was Zac who was filling this space. The only light was coming from a lamp on the table and the shadows being created gave shedding their clothes a surreal edge—like a scene from an arty movie. And then Zac was kneeling on the bed in front of her and she could flatten her hands against the bare skin of his chest as she raised her face for another kiss and she stopped thinking about the way anything looked. She could only feel…
No wonder she’d been shocked by that first ever touch of Zac’s lips. She’d never known that arousal could be this intense. That nerve endings could be so sensitised by the lightest touch that the pleasure was almost pain. It was still weird because she’d never felt anything like this before but it was most definitely good weird.
Oh, yes…the best weird ever, and she could get used to this.
She wanted to get very, very used to it.
CHAPTER SIX
‘TARGET SIGHTED—TWO O’CLOCK.’
The helicopter dipped and shuddered as Monty turned to circle the area. The stiff breeze made the top of the pine forest below sway enough to make an accurate estimation of clearance difficult.
‘Not sure I like this,’ Monty said. ‘Might need to winch you guys in.’
‘There’s more of a clearing at five o’clock. Where the logging trucks are.’
‘It’s a fair hike. The guy’s having trouble breathing.’
‘Winch me down,’ Summer said. ‘I’ll scoop him into the Stokes basket and we can transfer him to the clearing to stabilise him.’
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