“Christ, I love it when you say that.” He growled, pulling her in for a tumultuous kiss.
Early the next morning, she sent her father a text.
Summer asked me to marry him.
I said yes.
I wanted to tell you in person, but with you being so bogged down at work, we haven’t had a chance to talk in person. Sorry you had to hear it this way, but I didn’t want you to see it splashed all over the media. Hopefully you’ll be able to make time for me soon.
Love, Carrie Ann
*
Week four of the paparazzi frenzy, started with a fueled headline revealing Ry-Ann have an easy chemistry together which is heartening to all. She compliments him perfectly.
“Well, it’s much better than the headline two weeks ago. Bought and Paid For – Ryan’s million dollar bride. I really hated that one.” She smirked flippantly over the rim of her coffee cup. Paparazzi had besieged during their second public outing and for weeks their relationship had been both universally ridiculed and praised, sparking an all-out media feeding frenzy.
“You are a very expensive date,” he teased, blush tinged the bridge of his nose and cheeks. She swatted at him playfully and he clasped hold of her wrist, drawing her into his arms. He shifted from foot-to-foot in a slow dance, navigating around the front of her desk. Summer curled his fingers over the top of her open laptop, closing the computer, shutting out the rest of the world. “In another two weeks we’ll be old news and…”
“And the vultures will move on to their next victims. I know, I know. For the record, I think you’re dreamin’.”
The night before, mayhem erupted when they emerged from the car making their way inside a trendy LA restaurant. Summer calmly escorted her inside, while a crush of paparazzi lined the curb jockeying to get pictures of her ring. Flashes continued to strobe even after a few photographers lost their footing, feasting on some grungy LA pavement.
“We do complement each other perfectly.” He nipped her ear, investigating the sensitive slope with his teeth, probing for goosebumps.
“Perfectly,” she agreed with a pleasurable sigh, raking her fingers through his disheveled morning hair.
“Where are you off to so early this morning?”
She waved a hand down her front as if modeling her workout attire. “The gym.”
“You sure you don’t want to stay home? I promise to give you a good workout.”
“Sounds very…tantalizing, but I need to go into the office for a few hours. Unlike you, I have to go to work.” Her eyes narrowed playfully.
Since returning from vacation, she cut her work days to three. Keeping to routine, Carrie Ann hit the gym first, leaving early in hopes of cutting off the rush hour traffic. Summer didn’t make it easy. The man had far too much sex appeal and endurance at seven in the morning.
After making the hour commute, she pulled into the sparsely occupied parking lot, ready to pummel the first piece of exercise equipment available. Retrieving her favorite blue water bottle from her gym bag, she headed for the water station to fill up, running straight into Jason.
“Hey,” slipped from her mouth in an awkward squeaky tone.
“Hello, Carrie Ann.” Jason dragged a stark gaze across her face before scoping out the near vicinity. “Where’s your fiancé?”
She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she tried to reply. “He’s at home.”
“What’s he gonna do next? Try to get me kicked out of my gym?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Yes it is and don’t bother calling to apologize when the test comes back.” Steering her toward an empty corner near the water fountain, he continued, “I can’t believe you think I would do that to you. Or anyone. Or just in fucking general. And just so you know, I knew after the premier we were just friends, Carrie Ann.”
“Then why did you bother to throw down fifty grand at the auction?”
His lips remained zipped, forging a hard, telling smile. There was no need for Jason to reply, the answer was written on his face. Dad put him up to it. Bringing his face closer, talking in a low acidic tone. “I’m not sure how Ryan’s going to feel after the results come back in few days, but at least you’ll feel better.” He paused. “Or maybe not. Maybe you’ll feel worse, when you’re forced to consider all the possibilities.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, maybe you should be looking at your fiancé.”
“Summer would never…”
“And neither would I. Hell, even your old man knows it.”
“Jason…”
“Have a good workout.”
Her fists tightened securely around her water bottle as ice crystalized in her veins. It took every ounce of composure she could muster, not to chuck the twenty-four ounces of plastic at the back of his head. Anger simmered over, only it wasn’t Jason who stoked her fury. It was her father. Carrie Ann’s feet remained frozen to the floor while her mind deciphered the exact wordage she intended to unload on her dad. None of them were pretty.
Without thinking, she started toward her favorite spin bike in a brusque march. Tapping her finger aggressively to the screen, she worked through the settings, choosing the longest, most rigorous ride possible. Carrie Ann plugged in her earbuds and hopped on the bike, only to find the wire bottle holder missing. Fuck! Fuckity-fuck! Fearing an oncoming outburst, she tossed her things on the ground, shoved her feet into the toe cage and began to pedal.
Carrie Ann’s mind was numb, sitting tall, she worked through warm up stretches. She wasn’t listening to the music, she wasn’t watching the screen, or bothering with her heart rate. Her thoughts were lost, driven beyond the brink in an anger-filled daze. This was the reason her father had been avoiding her calls. If the test cleared Jason of any wrong doing, he would surely place the blame on Summer.
Tugging one arm across her chest, she drew in a deep breath filling her lungs with air. Her eyes drifted shut as she lifted her chin to the heavens, silently praying for strength and guidance to deal with her father.
Switching arms, she took another deep inhale. The scent of tobacco filled her nostrils. I must be delusional. He would never step foot in a gym. Her eyes popped open, head twisting from side-to-side, expecting to see her father’s face. She wasn’t ready. Carrie Ann needed to calm down before talking to him.
A familiar face took ownership of the bike to her right, but it wasn’t her father. She scowled, watching the man take a casual swig from her water bottle.
Taking notice of her apprehension, he gave her a half nod, gesturing for her to remove her head phones. “You look so familiar to me. Have we met before?”
Spotting her blue bottle still sitting on the ground, she holstered her ferocity, saving her explosion for the intended target…her father. Glimpsing his vivid green eyes, wide smile, and dark curly hair, she nodded, bending down to grab her water. “We’ve met before, but I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“Maybe it’s just from seeing you here at the gym.”
“Maybe,” she agreed, taking a long drink to quench her thirst.
“You look like you’re just starting your ride. You up for a friendly race?”
Pulling her towel from her handlebars, she made a pass at the sweat already dripping from her temples. Pressing a finger to the screen, she highlighted the course titled, L’Alpe d’Huez. “I’m in a bit of a mood, so it might not be a good idea.”
His eyes widened in surprise. He tossed his drink into the air, flipped the bottle end over end, before holstering it in its wire holder. Carrie Ann blinked a few times. The memory of the gun-slinging sheriff from the show at Jackson Hole flashed like a beacon.
A flirtatious grin gathered in his eyes. “Maybe another day.”
Not wanting to seem encouraging or rude, she opted for a simple, “Have a nice ride,” before plugging back in.
Giving the tension knob a full turn, Carrie Ann pushed her bum back, crouched over the h
andlebars, and began the ascent. Her surroundings faded into the background with every pummel of the pedal and each bend in the switch back. Her anger grew as she climbed her virtual mountain. There would be no more avoiding the subject. Carrie Ann was going to get her day in court.
An hour and forty minutes later, Carrie Ann stumbled off her spin bike. Her thighs burning and legs trembled from the intense workout. Feeling a little lethargic and dizzy, she stopped to refill her water.
The thumping in her ears kept time with her heart rate as adrenaline surged. She could barely make out a woman’s muffled voice when she spoke to Carrie Ann, pointing out that her bottle was overflowing.
Walking away, she mumbled sluggishly, “I must’ve gotten my heartrate too high.”
Fueled with determination to set her father straight, she made her way through the gym. Stepping out the front door, bright sunshine beat down on her shoulders, zapping her of energy. Her body pitched and swayed as she walked to her car.
“Whew. I must’ve overdid it,” she slurred, aiming for the handle, but missing.
Standing beside her driver’s door, Carrie Ann clung to the top of her car. She was hit with another wave of spicy tobacco. Peering downward, she tried to make out a small blurry object lying on the ground. She screwed her eyes shut and stretched them wide, concentrating on the butt of a thin cigar between her tennis shoes.
Lifting her heavy head, her gaze landed on a pair of vivid green eyes.
Sunlight began to fade as the entire parking lot narrowed in around her, slipping into the shrinking shadow.
Chapter Fifteen
‡
A constant beeping filled her ears. Hushed voices sifted through the darkness like a distant daydream. Carrie Ann tried to peel the lids of her eyes open, but they were too heavy.
The sterile smell of saline and antiseptic burned her nostrils. She drifted in and out of a deep sleep, listening to the sounds of chatter warbled together with footsteps and someone coughing in the far remoteness of her mind.
Blackness.
A low drone echoed in her ears as a band squeezed around her bicep, rousing her from hibernation. Her hands felt encumbered, too heavy to reach the object tightening and scratching her arm. She heard voices, men talking. I’ll give you today, but that’s it. I’ve been more than patient. Carrie Ann licked her parched lips. Holding her breath, she attempted to listen closer, but her ears were filled with the beating of her heart.
She felt a set of hands, warm and strong, slip beneath the covers at the end of the bed and close over her foot. The massage was light and loving, warming her ice cold toes. The strokes too soft for treatment, but blanketed her with comfort and assurance.
“Summer?” Her raspy voice, laced with panic, nearly inaudible. Her breathing turned quick and jumpy. Unable to raise her arms, she scratched her nails on the bedding.
“We’re right here, Red.” His sunny familiar scent floated into her breath, calming her alarm. The sound of his voice snuggled beside her ear as he pressed the side of his face to her temple. “You’re safe. Everything’s okay.”
Carrie Ann managed one little nod.
A while later, she opened her eyes. An older man with dark hair, sat beside her. His stubby fingers drew small circles over her foot poking out of the blue cover. She blinked the haziness from her eyes. “Dad?”
He lifted his head. Her father looked tired and worn. His typical tough, no-nonsense rigidness, softened by the exhaustion clinging to the lines covering his face. “I’m here.”
Carrie Ann peered around the cold white room. Her gaze lingered down her body making sure all of her pieces were intact. She stretched and shifted. Nothing was broken.
“Why am I in the hospital?” Before he could utter a word, her body lurched upright, adding in a voice of distress, “Where’s Summer?”
“Shh, it’s okay. You’re fine. He’s here. He just went to get coffee.”
A small bit of relief traveled through her rigid limbs and she sank back into the hard crinkly mattress. Her father scooted the small chair he sat in to the edge of her bed. He closed a hand around hers.
“Why am I in the hospital?” she questioned again.
“Do you remember being at the gym?”
Carrie Ann surfed her memory, but had zero recollection. Meeting her father’s gaze, she saw wetness clinging to his lashes. Fearing the worst she swallowed hard, whispering, “Did something bad happen to me?”
“No, no. Nothing happened. You got lucky.” Her dad seemed to be registering her reaction, unsure if he should go on. “Jason, found you…”
“Yes, yes. I remember seeing him at the gym. We argued…sort of. Did he drug me again?”
“He saved you.” Summer’s deep voice filtered through doorway.
Tears sprung in her eyes, obscuring the silhouette of his tall, muscular frame moving toward her. The edge of the bed dipped as he sat beside her, pulling her into his arms for a full embrace. She hid her face in the crook of his neck, letting him hold her. Easing back, he cupped the sides of her neck, swiping the pads of his thumb over her damp cheek.
“Love you, Red.”
Their eyes locked. Those were the only words that mattered. “Love you.”
“You remember seeing Jason at the gym?” Summer stated.
“Yes.”
“He was sitting in his car getting ready to leave when he spotted you staggering out to your car. He was going to see if you were alright. That’s when he saw the bartender approach you. Do you remember?”
“Not really. Maybe. I remember feeling woozy, like I’d worked out too hard.”
“Do you remember a man approaching you? The bartender? He worked for Take Your Best Shot the night of the auction.”
“That’s right.” She shifted uneasily. “He was there…at the gym. He rode the bike next to me. That’s the guy who drugged me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you positive?”
“We’re positive.” Summer’s jaw was set so taut, the muscles near the hollow of his cheek twitched. He remained outwardly calm, but she could feel his hands shaking as he combed his fingers through her dark hair, placing a kiss to the top of her head. His heart thumped so loud, it echoed between them. Summer looked away momentarily, making a brief but monumental connection with her father.
“We’ll talk about the details later.” Her dad remarked coolly. All traces of color washed from his face. “You don’t need to worry, honey. He won’t be getting out of jail in this lifetime.”
Inundated with a strong need to apologize and tell him thank you, she questioned, “Where’s Jason?”
Another shadow of concern passed between the two men. “They released him last night. I’m sure you’ll be able to talk to him soon.”
“Released? From the hospital? What for?”
“Carrie Ann, he was stabbed during the altercation. Don’t worry. Doctors were concerned about a concussion, but he’s going to be fine. He got lucky, the knife only grazed his side, but it required fifteen stitches.”
“Knife?” She heard herself ask in an unnaturally high voice. “He had a knife?”
“We’ll talk about everything when you’re totally alert and the drugs are out of your system. For now, you just need to rest.”
Carrie Ann didn’t have much choice, she could barely keep her eyes open. The next time she awoke, she was more alert. Her throat was sore and she suffered from a pounding headache. Thankfully both began to subside after eating a small bowl of homemade chicken soup that Summer had delivered for breakfast.
“The doctor said you’ll be released this morning.” Summer stated.
“Good. I just want to go home.”
Her father cleared his throat roughly, drawing her attention. “Summer, would you mind giving Carrie Ann and I a few minutes?”
She scowled. “Dad, whatever you have to say, you can do it in front of Summer.”
Summer pulled in a deep breath, exhaling a long drawn-out sigh. His amber eyes warmed
to the color of cognac and were full of reassurance as he tilted forward brushing his nose to hers. “It’s okay, Red. I need to make a phone call. I promised Shayla I’d keep her informed.”
Leaving the room, Summer paused in front of her father. He stuck out his hand, locking eyes with her father as they shook hands. Both men gave a curt nod, acknowledging some sort of mutual truce.
Sitting at the edge of her bed, Carrie Ann couldn’t help but notice her dad looked older, drained from being at the hospital all night. The glow of fluorescent overhead lighting adding a greyness to his skin accentuating the dark bruising shadows beneath his eyes.
“I rushed judgment, accusing Summer too quickly.”
The muscles near her mouth softened detecting what sounded like an admission of guilt or an apology. Either way, it was a first. “I suppose we did the same, assuming it was Jason.”
“I’m hoping that you won’t judge me too harshly,” he paused. “When I say what I need to tell you.”
A shiver ran down her spine, hearing the unmistakable regret riddling his tone. “What do you have to tell me?”
“We all make mistakes. I’ve definitely made my fair share. I thought that boy was bringing you down. Holding you back from a vast future of possibilities. When he came to the house…I thought I was protecting you from a lifetime full of struggle and heartache. He was a rough-neck by California standards, no couth, no class, no future to speak of. He was sliding down a dark hole and I’d be damned if I was going to let him take you with him. You deserved better. I always thought your mother deserved better too. I never understood what she saw in me.” The last few bits, washed in recollection.
Searing heat climbed up her neck, turning her words to a near whimper. “What did you do?”
“It never entered my mind that you truly loved him. Or that he’d be able to give you a good life.”
“Those aren’t things you get to decide, Dad.”
“I know that now. He came to me that day,” His tone softened. There was no need to explain, she knew which day he referred to. It was the day she lost their baby. “I’d heard you crying, telling Shayla the whole story. I’d be damned if I was ever going to let him near you again.”
A Taste of Summer Page 25