Summer Flame: A Steamy Romantic Comedy Beach Read (A Season's Detour, Book 1)

by Hayleigh Sol

  “So‌…‌which brother is here with you?”

  Smooth, Maya. Super‌–‌smooth.

  “Who cares, one of those assholes. Tell me about you, about your life.”

  His joking dismissal of his family, who he’d always been close with, forced a laugh and some of the tension out of me.

  “Well, let’s see. In the‌…‌fifteen years or so since I last saw you, I went to college and started a business that does residential and commercial green energy consulting. How about you?”

  There went that grin again. I swear, that thing was lethal. “You do eco‌–‌consulting? That’s so cool. I do computer‌–‌aided architectural drafting; my favorite projects involve sustainable designs.”

  “You’re kidding. Working with eco‌–‌architects and CAD designers is where I want to take my company; it’s a passion of mine.”

  Jill walked up to the table and I realized Luka and I must’ve looked like a couple of dopes, smiling away at each other like we’d found the golden ticket.

  “Heya, Handsome. Now, why am I not surprised you found the prettiest girl in the place and sweet‌–‌talked your way into sharing her table?”

  “Aw Jill, you know you’re the only one for me. But Maya and I go way back; I almost ran her over on my bike when we were kids.”

  The woman was lovely but she was my grandmother’s age. Luka was being his typical effortlessly charming self. She raised her eyebrows at me and I nodded.

  “It’s true. Running a clumsy ten‌–‌year‌–‌old girl off the road was how he flirted back then.”

  She laughed and patted his shoulder. “Looks like his technique’s improved over the years. Can I get you two anything else?”

  I shook my head with a smile as Luka also declined. “I gotta go meet those jokers over at the boat soon.” He looked at me regretfully as Jill walked away. “Wish I didn’t have to go, I’d like to catch up some more. Unless‌…‌you don’t want to come out on the boat with us, do you?”

  “Oh, I don’t want to intrude on family time, especially if they’re only here for a few days.”

  “Probably a wise decision on your part. The kids are at that fight‌–‌over‌–‌everything age.”

  “That’s too bad. How old are they?”

  He laughed, one corner of his mouth tipping up wryly. “Actually, they’ve been that way forever. But they stand up for each other to outsiders, so I guess we don’t need to worry too much.”

  “You could always ride your bike by my campsite later, see if I’m around.” I don’t know what possessed me to make the suggestion‌—‌riding by was how he’d come looking for me when we were kids‌—‌but Luka seemed pleased and asked which site I was in.

  I couldn’t remember the number but told him to look for the giant pea‌–‌green tent, which he actually remembered from our childhood. The look of fond nostalgia on his face made me wonder if he remembered stealing a kiss or two in that tent when my parents were occupied elsewhere.

  “You’re not really going to spend this perfectly nice day inside working, are you, Maya? Because, I just don’t think I can allow that.” He crossed his arms over his chest and affected a flinty stare.

  The time I’d planned to spend on research was nearly up when Lukasz had approached my table, but something about him always made me want to play. “And what are you going to do to stop me, tough guy?”

  “Might just have to toss you over my shoulder and throw you in the lake.”

  Toss me over your shoulder? Holy hotness, don’t let me stop you.

  A feminist and proud of it, I had to admit there was still something undeniably sexy about a guy who’d pick you up‌—‌toss you over his shoulder, as he’d said‌—‌and put you right where he wanted you. Like‌…‌on a bed.

  Down, girl.

  “Well, I suppose I’ve done enough work for the day.” I slid my laptop into the backpack and stood. “I do have a date with an air mattress and a book. Let it be known, though, that my choice to leave has nothing to do with your idle threats.”

  “Who says they’re idle?” Yep, that addictive, contagious grin was back in full force.

  I had to laugh, which probably killed my own tough‌–‌guy act. “You don’t scare me, Lukasz.”

  We traded more teasing banter back and forth as we waved at Jill and exited the diner. Luka followed me over to my bike, both of us simply standing there, smiling at each other again. I wasn’t about to strap on my dorky helmet until he was well on his way but I didn’t know why he was lingering.

  Until he wrapped me in a hug that flooded me with memories as I inhaled his scent; it really hadn’t changed much from when I’d last been in his arms. Amazing what a remembered scent will trigger.

  The impulse to stand on my toes and kiss his neck nearly overwhelmed my better judgement. When we pulled away, it seemed as though our eyes were having a conversation without us. Luka nodded once, said he’d see me tonight, and disappeared from sight as he walked off in the direction of the docks.

  When I returned to camp to change into my new swimsuit, I noticed my sleeping bag looked suspiciously low to the ground. As this wasn’t my first foray into tent camping, I expected the air mattress, having been stored in my parents’ garage for who knows how many years, must’ve sprung a leak. Great. Not only was it my planned flotation device for the next few hours on the lake, but it was also the only barrier between the hard‌–‌packed ground and me for the next thirteen nights.

  Looked like I was making a trip to the stores across the lake. The price of an air mattress was sure to be double its worth at the cutesy, tourist‌–‌catering shopping center, but at least the cove I’d planned to float around was also on that side. I loaded up a beach bag with high‌–‌octane sunblock, towel, paperback‌—‌I didn’t trust myself not to drop my Kindle in the lake‌—‌and an assortment of snacks. For a moment, I hesitated over bringing my phone.

  It had been rather refreshing to have such spotty service up here and, therefore, few emails swamping my Inbox. But, I was a slave to my own work ethic. The phone went in the bag as half of me hoped the cell service would be better in the more populated area across the way and the other half hoped it wouldn’t.

  With such a scenic drive around the lake, I rolled down my windows and scanned stations on the radio until I stumbled across an all‌–‌time favorite. The Boys of Summer was just starting with its distinctive high‌–‌hat opening. It was the kind of song you cranked up and sang along to‌—‌at least I always did.

  Funny enough, there’d been times over the years‌—‌too many, I had to admit‌—‌that the song had made me think of Luka. He was my boy of summer, there for such brief moments in my life, but someone I’d never forgotten. Sure, I knew the song was more about the dude who’d be there after the chick had her summer flings, but my own summer fling had been special. The guys after him had been the forgettable ones.

  Seeing Luka after all this time had me wondering what he’d been doing with his life. I’d gotten the short version of his professional situation, but what about the details? What had made him choose that path‌—‌one that I’d very nearly been on myself‌—‌and what did he picture for his future? And how about memorable moments, trips, college years, friends, hobbies? When we were seventeen, he’d been a star soccer player, far better than I’d been the few years I had played. His sister had told me he’d led the team to victory in the state championship that year, which Luka humbly credited to the entire team and his coach.

  And, yes, of course I was curious about his love life. He was probably married or in a serious relationship.

  If that were the case, genius, wouldn’t he be up here with his wife and kids instead of his brother and his family?

  Maybe he was divorced. Or a commitment‌–‌phobe. Maybe he was cool with commitment but didn’t see the necessity of marriage to prove it. I often felt that way myself.

  There was so much I wanted to talk to him about; conversa
tion had always been easy for us, even at ten years old. Now, it was as if that short interaction at The Forks had been the amuse‌–‌bouche that awakened my tastebuds for all things Luka. If he came by tonight as he’d said he would, I hoped I’d have a chance to ask him everything I wanted to know.

  As I parked in front of the shops, my phone buzzed and pinged from inside the beach bag like it was having a seizure. I half expected it to be smoking when I dug it out from where it had fallen to the bottom. Scrolling through, I saw texts from my mom and at least one from each of my best friends, which made me smile. Brad had forwarded company emails to himself, so the only messages I read for now were some questions he had from Friday.

  It was getting hot and sticky sitting in the car, so I made my way over to a shaded table and chairs near the ice cream parlor. A table that was also sticky. There were a few groups and pairs coming and going so I walked to the end of the shady strip offered by the building and made my call.

  “Hey, Maya. How’s the vacation?”

  Wherever Brad was, the background noise was loud. Though I’d informed him many times how amplified ambient sound was on a Bluetooth device, I knew he wouldn’t disconnect. I’d just make this quick. I also walked farther away from the buildings so he’d be able to hear my raised voice without it disturbing everyone around me.

  As I attempted to answer his questions about accounts, asking some of my own for clarification, it seemed that Brad was preoccupied. He probably just couldn’t hear me. I tried to guess where he was, what he was doing, but came up blank.

  “Hey, can you just email me about all that? None of what I sent you was urgent and it’s the weekend anyway. You’re supposed to be taking time off, remember? Letting me handle things.”

  “Sure. I just think you’re going to have more ques‌—‌”

  “Great. Listen, I gotta get going. You try to have some fun, okay? And stop worrying. I got this.”

  “Yeah, okay. We should try to connect Monday or Tuesday, though. Brad?”

  The call dropped. Or, I told myself it dropped and he hadn’t just hung up without a goodbye.

  It was fine. I’d only been gone for a day; the likelihood of everything falling apart during my brief absence was slim. Besides, this was supposed to be a trial period for Brad to manage the company and take some of the many responsibilities off my shoulders. Reminding myself of that, and the fact that I truly did want to enjoy my vacation and not fall into typical workaholic mode, I walked into the ice cream parlor with purpose. They had a selection of dairy‌–‌free frozen yogurt and I treated myself to a cup of toasted coconut as I replied to texts. I was smiling over the exchanges with my best friends. Then I tackled Mom’s.

  Mom: Glad you made it to the lake without incident. How did everything go with putting up the tent by yourself?

  Terribly. Not that I was about to tell her that. In the end, I’d conquered the old relic and it hadn’t collapsed on my head in the middle of the night. That was a win.

  Mom: Oh, and that campstove is a little tricky to get started. I can’t believe I forgot to warn you about that!

  Mom: Just call and let me know you’re okay, please. You know I’ll only worry myself sick.

  This was so not what I wanted to be doing right now. But I did know she’d worry herself sick, so I called.

  “Maya? Oh, thank God.”

  “Hi, Mom. How are you?” My back was leaning against the building as I juggled the phone, cup, and spoon until I dropped the phone into my frozen yogurt. Naturally.

  I attempted to wipe off the goop with the tiny napkin I’d grabbed from the shop as I heard my mother’s disembodied voice coming from the phone. “What was that? Are you okay?”

  “Just dropped the phone, everything’s fine, Mom.”

  She huffed out a relieved breath, then rapid‌–‌fired questions at me about the campstove and other gear I’d borrowed before moving on to asking if I’d been warm enough overnight.

  With a small laugh, I gave her reassurances that all was well, finding her concern for her “baby” touching. “Mom, I’m thirty‌–‌two. I can handle a short camping trip on my own.”

  “I know you’re very independent, Maya. Stubbornly so, if you ask me‌—‌”she’d dropped her voice on that last bit, but there was nothing wrong with my hearing‌—‌“it’s just that I would feel so much better if Brad were there with you. He’s always so‌…‌together, so capable.”

  So much for her concern being touching.

  “Brad and I are taking a break, Mom, remember? That means no joint vacations. Besides, I’m pretty together and capable myself.”

  “Pssh, what does that even mean, ‘taking a break’? If he didn’t still love you, he wouldn’t be helping with your company.”

  I noticed she didn’t exactly agree with my self‌–‌assessment. She had, however, given me an excellent point for deflection. “I’m sure he still cares about me and, yes, he’s very helpful with Green for Green. In fact, he’s keeping an eye on things while I’m on vacation. So, you see, he couldn’t have come up here with me anyway.”

  “Well, that’s nice of him.” I didn’t bother to get into the profit‌–‌sharing, partnership whatever details with her. She’d assume we were heading down the aisle. “Maybe he’ll whip those employees of yours into shape.”

  I tried not to let the implication that Brad would do a better job of motivating my staff than I did bother me, but it did. Did my own mother think he could manage what I hadn’t?

  “Mom, I should probably get going.” Off this super supportive phone call as soon as possible.

  “Wait, honey, we have to talk about the bears.”

  “Bears?”

  “Yes, tell me what you’re supposed to do if you see a bear.”

  A half‌–‌laugh, half‌–‌sigh popped out of me. She couldn’t be serious. “Invite him or her for afternoon tea.”

  “That’s not funny, young lady. You see? This is why I worry about you so much.”

  “C’mon, Mom. You know I won’t forget to serve honey with the tea.” I chuckled silently to myself. Good one, Maya.

  I swear I heard her eyes roll skyward as she prayed for patience. “Honestly, I don’t know why I even bother.”

  “Mom, we’ve only seen a bear up here one time that I recall and it was so terrified of the thirty stupid humans standing around taking its picture that it ran away. I don’t think bears are a real problem.”

  “You never know, though,” she countered ominously. “At least promise me you’ll stay away from the squirrels.”

  Oh, Lord, now we were on to squirrels? “What is that you think I’m going to do with the squirrels, Mom?”

  “Don’t sass me, I’m still your mother. And you know I’m talking about the time you and your father fed those squirrels from the palm of your hand. I can’t believe I let either of you do that. They probably had rabies. Well, you know he waited until I wasn’t looking because I never would’ve let him get away with‌—‌”

  “Mom, I’m not going to feed the squirrels.” That memory with my dad was one of my favorites from our trips to the lake. I wouldn’t feed a wild animal now, of course, knowing that human food wasn’t meant for them. But, back before I knew better, seeing that twitchy little nose and having those tiny paws take Trix cereal out of my hand had been the cutest thing ever.

  I tried to end the call again, but Mom wasn’t having it. “How’s your tummy? Are you still having potty problems?”

  Sweet Jesus, why had I ever mentioned anything about that to her? It was sixth grade all over again when she dropped me off for a sleepover and announced in front of all my friends that she’d put extra pads in my backpack in case “Aunt Flo” was heavier than expected. At least this time nobody was around to witness my burning humiliation.

  Guess I should be grateful for small blessings.

  “Mom, I’m fine. Truly. Now, I really do have to go and I might not be able to check in with you very often. The cell receptio
n at the campground is basically nonexistent.”

  “Okay, just text me or email instead.”

  She still didn’t understand how cell phones worked, bless her heart. “I’ll try to send you a message when I can, but it won’t be every day”‌—‌I realized I was painting myself into a corner‌—‌“or even every other day. Okay?”

  As anticipated, she protested and grumbled. I placated and reassured. When I finally got off the phone, I felt a trail of sweat run down my back. The shady spot I’d been glued to was no match for Anna Stoker.

  In the general store, with its restorative air conditioning, I found an air mattress quickly, then lingered to peruse the paperback selection at the front as I’d done when I was younger. The standard westerns and bodice‌–‌rippers made up the majority and, as they failed to catch my interest, I paid for my inflatable bed and headed for Willow Cove. Finally.

  Once I’d parked and followed the trail down to the beach, I remembered that my family and I had usually arrived by boat and beached on the opposite side, the better side. This side had the infamous rope swing and, as such, tended to attract the older kids whose parents largely ignored their shenanigans and littering. Across the way, it wasn’t as crowded and looked prime for the kind of quiet, relaxing reading and napping I sought. With a Tarzan yell and an impressive cannonball splash, the last hoodlum‌—‌I mean, pre‌–‌teen boy‌—‌off the rope convinced me to relocate.

  Having inflated my new air mattress at the car with a pump and cigarette‌–‌lighter adapter, I cruised my beach gear across the cove on my raft. I was sure to make a wide berth around the rope swing’s splash zone as I kicked my way through the water. After situating myself on the beach, I leaned back on my hands and took in the sights.

  The wider entrance to the cove off the lake became a narrow channel farther in and I planned to paddle and float myself in that direction later. A few families around me had toddlers who were making sand castles or getting sunblock smeared on them by their moms. Now at a distance from the rope swing, it looked every bit as fun as I’d remembered. If Holly or Emma were here, they’d have already been through the line twice while Simone told them to be careful.