“Why do you men even bother with the subterfuge? The dancing around? Can’t you all just flash your pecs and get a woman to jump into bed with you?”
Whoops. That had come out at the top of her lungs. And she was back to being practically out on the sidewalk. Lots of people were out on this warm night. Without turning around to look, Summer just knew she’d turned a few heads, which meant Chloe would be six shades of scarlet. Oh, well. It was a red-letter day when they hung out and Summer didn’t make her friend splutter or gasp or shriek with embarrassment at least once.
One of the guys must’ve hit a button, because the big glass garage doors came sliding down in a steady mechanical drone. They were probably concerned about what she might say next. Summer let her arms flop to her sides as she trudged back to everyone.
Mitchell held her at arm’s length by her shoulders—apparently wary of her potential reaction—and gave a squeeze. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but just having sex isn’t always the goal.”
“I know,” she said with a long sigh.
Crap.
Because a hookup, she could handle. If Riley had kissed her on the dot of midnight on New Year’s Eve, or even after a dozen red, white, and blue Jell-O shooters on the Fourth, then Summer would be fine. They’d both be able to laugh it off. Ignore it. Or heck, maybe keep going for a quickie in some bar bathroom.
Something more than sex? That was completely outside of Summer’s experience. She dated interesting, competent men who could be counted on to keep their half of the conversation going over dinner. They had to keep up their half of things after dinner, too, when they started using their mouths for more interesting things than conversation.
But she always moved on after a few nights. Summer wanted to try…everything. Not in a slutty way. Just in an I almost died way too young and don’t want to miss out on anything life has to offer way. She used protection. Never led anyone on into thinking things might get serious. Her closet held a vast array of shoes. It’d be impossible to think of choosing just one to wear every day for the rest of her life.
Men were the same. Nice to look at. Often a terrific accessory, sometimes just utilitarian and comfortable. You wanted them around most of the time, but were okay going barefoot when necessary.
Riley, though…he couldn’t be discarded like a too-pointy stiletto. Not even because of Chloe and Griff’s being so into each other they practically blinked in sync. No, there was something about Riley’s intensity, when he turned it full force on her, that made Summer quite sure that Riley wouldn’t let himself be pulled out of rotation.
Luiz had taken the lids off six containers before finding the guacamole with bacon. He troweled an empanada through it. “Is he a decent guy? Does he have a job?”
“Yes.” Summer plucked at the hem of her burnt orange, lace-edged camisole. It was easier than looking him in the eye. Because it was humiliating to be shown up in the sensitivity department by a man. “He works for the NTSB.”
“He helps to save people. Ultimately,” Chloe added.
“Been there, done that.” Luiz tapped his last bit of flaky crust against the other guys’ in a makeshift toast. “Do you think he’s a good guy, Chloe?”
“I like him a ton. Riley looks out for all of his friends, all the time. He’s careful because he cares so much. He can be wickedly funny. And I hear he’s one heck of a good kisser.” She slid a sidelong glance at Summer. “I’ve never understood why he and Summer are oil and water. Although your theory that they like each other explains a lot.”
Luiz nodded his agreement. “Great. It’s settled. Summer and this guy should get together. Can we take the food up and eat now?”
“Hang on.” Because even if all the firefighters were right? If Summer could suspend her disbelief about the truce lasting and treat Riley like a person instead of an adversary? If she gave in to the undeniable heat between them? There was still a huge problem. “We’re not dropping everything and getting together tonight. Even if it turns out that we don’t hate each other, Riley and I barely know each other. We’ve been too busy fighting to have any real conversations with each other.”
Chloe hopped over a toolbox to reach her side. “I can fix that. The ACSs are looking into starting a foundation. One that’s going to, hopefully, get seatbelts put in buses. Riley’s heading up its creation. He needs help pulling together a mission statement, a press release, and a sort of speech they can use to drum up funds and support.”
“No.” Five minutes of kissing sounded doable. Spending hours working on a project with him…well, that’d be a real involvement. Not Summer’s jam at all.
“You have a degree in communication.” Chloe dug her fingers in between Summer’s ribs, tickling to press her point home. “You’ve done press releases. And you’ve given a ton of motivating, emotional speeches. You know how to reach people, how to make an impact.”
The whole speechmaking thing had been an accidental fork in the road for Summer. It had started just as a way to exorcise her own demons after the shooting. Now she gave a handful of talks a year.
Not like there was a plan to become a motivational speaker or anything.
Never a plan.
Brett sealed the guacamole back up. “That speech you gave Mitch last November about how he had to vote? Even though he was all pissy about D.C. not having congressional representation? The minute his shift was over, he hightailed it down to the elementary school and punched a ballot.”
“Good to hear.”
“In one week, you’ve flip-flopped more on Riley than the princess did on her bed with the pea. This foundation is important. It’ll do good work. Help him out, help all the guys out, for that reason alone. You can start talking at the beach this weekend.”
Chloe looked all sweet. But she could steamroll with the best of them.
Summer could swallow a few hours of brainstorming on a worthwhile cause.
The whole beach weekend with Riley thing, though? Summer was more than a little worried that they might start something more than just talking.
Worried…and hopeful.
Hopeful…and excited.
Which gave her even more to worry about.
Chapter 5
“It was nice of you guys to help carry all this stuff inside.” Jerry, for all his ex-football-player bulk, moved like a whirling dervish, putting everything from the boxes of food they’d stacked on the U-shaped granite counter into the fridge and cabinets.
Josh pretended to whack him on the head. Or actually tried to and Jerry was just too fast. Riley saw it as too close to call. “Dude. You bought it all, boxed it up, and are going to cook it for us. I think hustling the ice cream inside was the least we could do.”
Yeah, they paid Jerry to take care of the details of a houseful of busy men. But he was their friend, too. You didn’t kick back with a beer by the pool and let your friend make twelve trips in from the car on a ninety-degree day.
Beer. Pool. Not a bad idea to stock the fridge they kept on the back patio right now. Never one to leave a plan unexecuted, Riley pulled four six-packs into his arms and started around the island and over to the French doors at the opposite end of the airy great room.
“No, I want to thank you guys for helping. I need the excuse.”
That was weird. Jerry sounded like somebody had starched his boxers.
Griff reared back. “Excuse to do what? Because if it’s something weird like giving us foot rubs, I’m out.” Jerry had been on a learning kick lately, taking cooking classes, flower arranging classes, and feng shui. He was either trying to figure out his life path or just using his new skills as a way to pick up chicks. The five of them had a bet going about what weird hobby he’d try next. Even as he continued to scarf down the usually awesome results of Jerry’s cooking class, Riley’s money was on fencing. Just…because.
Barreling right on, Jerry said, “I’m gonna thank you by throwing Riley here under the bus with an embarrassing story.” And then he flashed
a shit-eating grin.
Riley froze. No way was he leaving the room now. Especially since he didn’t have a clue what Jerry would say next.
“Jerry, you’re awesome.” Logan clapped him on the back of his yellow T-shirt, which featured a crab emblazoned with the Maryland flag. “Embarrassing stories are a great way to kick off a beach weekend. God, I’ve missed doing these with you guys. It’s great to be home.”
Yeah. Riley was thrilled, too, that Logan was back after months away rebuilding a village at the ass end of Kazakhstan. But he’d bought the guy dinner when he first got back. That should be enough. No need to let himself be humiliated just to entertain Logan.
Jerry spread his legs wide, like he was already on the paddleboards they’d all use in the ocean. “Do you remember when we ran out of olives at the brunch last weekend? I ran to the store to grab a jar.”
“This is a suck-ass start to an embarrassing story. It’d better ramp up quick,” Knox warned. “Grocery stores are boring. Unless you’re picking up girls. Which is pretty much an urban legend. I’ve discovered that women aren’t actually wild about being hit on in the produce aisle.”
“Maybe you’re doing it wrong.” Josh lifted his hands to chest level. Juggled them suggestively. “Did you have a pair of cantaloupes in your hands?”
Knox’s response in no way reflected his status as a Mensa member. “Dipshit.”
“Asshat.”
Jerry slapped shut the refrigerator door. “Don’t worry, the store’s not part of the story. On my way, I saw Riley. Making out with a woman.”
Shit. Riley set the beer back on the counter. Now that he knew where this was going? It was clear there’d be no escape. The guys yanking his chain? As inevitable as ball sweat during a workout.
Griff ripped open a bag of crab chips with his teeth. “That’s not embarrassing either. Unless she wasn’t hot.”
“Oh, she’s hot. You all agree on that.” Jerry paused for a beat, letting anticipation grow. His pause was long enough for Riley to start thinking up ways he could pay him back for this. Putting a pile of sand in his bed, maybe. “It was Summer.”
Four heads pivoted toward Riley in unison.
Griff’s mouth fell open. “No freaking way.”
“You can’t stand her,” Knox added, shaking his head.
“Niiiice. She’s a hottie.” Josh held up a hand for a high five, which Riley ignored. “Dude, you can’t leave me hanging. You scored, you get a high five. Follow the rules.”
Aaaaand, now it’d begin. He should know. Riley had poked and picked apart and teased the shit out of Griffin, Knox, and Logan once they’d gotten serious with a girl. Which was why he’d nip this in the bud with the truth. “I didn’t score. We kissed. That’s it.”
“You only kissed her once and stopped?” Logan scrunched up his face. “Was she bad at it? Too much Bloody Mary breath?”
That was the problem. Summer had been good.
Great.
Perfect.
Which made Riley feel obliged to spill the rest of the truth. “Not once. Twice. It happened again at her store.”
“You dragged me over there so you could have a makeout session?” Griffin flicked him on the side of the head. “Not cool, Ry.”
Agreed. That would’ve been downright skeezy. Riley would’ve kicked his own ass if that’d been the case. He jerked his head away, eager to clear the air. To not start the weekend with Griff’s nose out of joint and his foot up Riley’s ass.
“No way.” He thumped his knuckles against the speckled brown granite for emphasis. “I went to the store to suggest a truce to Summer. So we don’t drive you guys all bat-shit crazy with our bickering this weekend. And I took you along, G-Man, so that I wouldn’t be tempted to kiss her a second time. You were supposed to be my reverse wingman.”
There was a beat of silence. One more. Then Griff flicked him again. But this time it was done with a one-sided lift to the corner of his mouth. “You could’ve clued me in.”
His relief came out in a long whoosh of air. “I didn’t think I needed to. Why the hell would you leave me alone with a woman I hate?”
Fingers in his ears, eyebrows raised, Griffin answered, “Because I didn’t want to stand there listening to you two tear each other apart as usual.”
It made sense. Which was precisely why he’d brokered the truce for this weekend.
“Love and hate.” Knox steepled his fingers and then tapped them together like an evil mastermind plotting world domination. “There’s a very fine line between the two. I think you just crossed over. What with the spit-swapping.”
Riley always, always made sure the facts were straight. It didn’t matter who was talking or what the consequences. So as much as he didn’t want to add fuel to his friend’s mocking, the truth had to be spoken.
“It turns out? I don’t hate her. When we stopped fighting and started talking like normal people, it worked. Summer’s a lot smarter than I gave her credit for, even if she does have a mouth on her.”
“A mouth made for kissing, apparently,” Logan said under his breath as he grabbed the chips and emptied them into a wooden bowl.
“No more kissing.” Riley heard the volume of his statement jack up to a near-yell. So he dug out two more bags of chips. Banged the cabinet doors until he found more bowls. He had to do something, anything rather than just stand there talking about the hot woman he was trying so damned hard to ignore. “Just because I discovered she’s not the Antichrist doesn’t mean jack shit. Summer Sheridan drives me up a wall. She’s reckless.”
“Spontaneous,” Griffin countered.
Well, of course he’d defend the woman. She was his almost-fiancée’s best friend. But Riley had more ammunition. “She thinks ‘plan’ is a four-letter word.”
Knox counted out four fingers, then held them up. “Do I really have to state the obvious?”
“Fuck off.” Riley pawed at the chips. Noticed that a bowl of bacon clam dip had appeared next to them, thanks to Jerry, who never missed a trick. He tunneled the wavy chip through the thick dip. Then went back the other way in a curlicue pattern, stalling for time. Stalling while he figured out how to make his friends understand that Summer was as dangerous to him as going helmetless was for a motorcyclist. “She doesn’t worry about the future.”
Barking out a laugh, Logan said, “Almost nobody on the planet worries about the future as much as you do, bud. Except for maybe fortune-tellers.”
Riley tried to come up with other examples of how wrong they were for each other. Instead, his brain turned on him, providing only images of her dark lashes dusting her golden skin when he kissed her. How her top dipped low in between her breasts, revealing a deep valley he wanted to lick his way down. The wistful tone in her voice when she’d talked about wanting to be respected for her intelligence rather than her looks.
He abandoned the chips to walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Riley looked out across the patio, past the pool to the dunes and the glint of ocean blue beyond them. He and Summer were like the ocean beating against the dunes. Riley wasn’t sure who was the ocean and who was the dunes in the scenario. But he knew that the constant beating against each other, the endless abrasion was bad for both of them.
Deliberately, Riley turned his back on the outdoors and what it represented. “We’re all wrong for each other. She annoys me every time she opens her mouth.”
“Unless you’re sliding your tongue inside it?” Knox hinged over the counter and lolled his tongue out.
A tongue that still had chip crumbs on it. Gross. Every once in a while, like now, it felt like the five of them still hadn’t left high school.
Which was awesome.
Laughing, he came back over, scooped, and crammed a dip-laden chip into his mouth. Because this whole conversation was moot. Summer was handled. They had a truce. Now all he had to do was keep his distance.
“Summer is a bad mistake waiting to happen. And you all know I spend my life avoiding bad mistak
es. Nothing else will happen between us. Period. We’ll play nice here at the beach so we all have a good weekend together, and that’s it. No more kissing.”
Knox pulled his wallet out of his seersucker shorts. Tossed a fifty-dollar bill onto the counter. “I say he doesn’t last the night without making another move on her.”
Wordlessly, his friends all added their bills. Fuckers. Riley couldn’t believe they had no faith in his self-control. “Fine.” His solitary bill fluttered to the side of the others. “I’m in, you bastards.” But when Jerry started to add his money to the big pile, Riley grabbed his arm. “No. No way. You outed me, you have to be on my side.”
“But that’s a sucker bet. I’ll lose.”
Unbelievable. Thanks to his abundance of caution and triple-checking and forward thinking, Riley didn’t make mistakes. Ever. And he never took risks. Getting together with Summer again would be both. How did everyone not see that?
“No you won’t. You’ll rake in the cash from these lowlifes, who clearly don’t know me at all.” He stuffed the cash into a coffee mug and slammed it onto the windowsill next to the potted herbs. “Now, can we talk about the Foundation for five minutes before the girls get here?”
Griffin hitched up his cargo shorts and sat on a lattice-backed barstool. Then he shot both his index fingers at Riley. “If it’s you announcing that you filed the paperwork, sure.”
Who else would’ve done it? “Yeah, we’re all official in the eyes of the IRS.”
With an exaggerated wipe of his brow, Knox said, “That’s why we put you in charge. Although you could’ve given that over to an accountant, you know.”
“Once everything is established, I will. There are some intricacies I need to work through and wrap my mind around. We’ll be raising money for charitable purposes, but also to spend on lobbying efforts to change laws. That’s more complicated.”
“But we’re good?” Logan asked. He straddled a stool backward.
Trying It All Page 6