The Summer of Us (Mission Cove Book 1)

by Melanie Moreland

  The way he stated it, I knew Molly hadn’t survived.

  “Michael, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  This time, he didn’t try to hide his emotions. “Breast cancer. She fought so hard, but in the end, it won.”

  “How long ago?”

  He wiped away the tears under his eyes. “Almost two years.”

  “So now you’re a single dad, running a business and looking after your family.”

  “Yeah. But I have great friends—” he indicated the kitchen with a jerk of his head “—including Sunny. She and Molly got closer after you were gone, and I know how much Sunny misses her as well. She’s been a great help, and my kids love her. I have other people, and they help out too.” He studied me in silence. “The town has changed, Linc. It’s a great place—better than you remember it. Thanks to the unknown benefactor, the community has become tight. We’re prospering.”

  “Good.” I cleared my throat of the lump that had grown as Michael spoke. He had lost so much in his life, and I wanted to do something to help him. I would have to figure out what I could do.

  “Do you have pictures of your kids?”

  A genuine smile crossed his face, and he spent the next ten minutes showing me the pictures he had on his phone. Baby and toddler pictures. Family photos. Jesse and Jenny growing up. Michael and Molly, young on their wedding day and maturing over the years. One of Molly and the kids, her illness evident, but the smile on her face still bright and filled with love.

  “That was about three weeks before she died,” he explained. “She spent as much time with the kids as she could.”

  I handed him back the phone. “I’m sure they miss her. I’m sure you do as well.”

  “Every second of every day.”

  “Your kids are lucky to have you.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I try to be the dad I need to be for them. A mom too.” He smiled ruefully. “I don’t think I’ll ever get the hair thing right for Jenny, but god knows I try.” He mimicked making a ponytail in the air. “I never seem to get it in the right place, and my hair clips fall out.” He grinned. “Luckily, Sunny’s place is across the street, and she often steps in and helps.”

  I felt unease drip into my chest. Did Michael have feelings for Sunny? He spoke of her with great affection.

  How close, I wondered, was she to his family?

  To him?

  Sunny had a life. An entire life I knew nothing about. Ten years of memories I wasn’t a part of.

  Had my arrival back in town, in her life, been a mistake? Was I robbing someone else of their happiness by trying to seek my own? I opened my mouth to ask when my phone beeped, and I glanced at the screen. Seeing the message, I stood.

  “Sorry, Michael—” I grabbed my messenger bag “—I have to get going. I have someone I need to meet at the house.” I extended my hand. “Good to see you. We’ll catch up more later.”

  “Yeah, later, for sure. We need to catch up.”

  I glanced at the kitchen door. I could hear Sunny talking on the phone, her voice confident and sure as she spoke slowly and clearly, making sure her point was made. I hesitated.

  “I’ll tell Sunny you had to go.”

  Given our history, I didn’t want to leave without telling her. I had no reason to think Michael wouldn’t tell her, but still, I didn’t like it.

  “I should tell her myself.”

  The kitchen door opened and Shannon came through, carrying a stack of gleaming trays. I approached her with a smile. “Can I interrupt Sunny?”

  She grimaced. “I wouldn’t. She’s on a rampage with a supplier.”

  “Okay. Tell her Linc had to go to a meeting up the hill. Ask her to call me, please.”

  “Sure, Linc. I’ll tell her.”

  With a wave to the bemused-looking Michael, I hurried from the bakery. My thoughts were chaotic, my questions endless. Once again, I realized I knew nothing of Sunny’s life for the last ten years. Whom she had been with. Cared for—loved, even. I knew there was something still strong and powerful between us, but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that at some point she had loved someone else. That, possibly, after Molly died, Michael had begun to look at their friendship in a new light. Perhaps they were in the early stages of discovering something. Maybe my sudden appearance had come at a bad time.

  Except, as I slid behind the wheel and drove the short distance to the house, one thought permeated my brain.

  I wasn’t giving Sunny up without a fight.

  And this time, I wasn’t above fighting dirty.

  9

  Linc

  I pulled up my car beside the bright-pink SUV in the driveway of my father’s house. He would have been horrified at the sight of it—and the woman who slipped from behind the wheel, her high-top sneakers hitting the pavement with a loud thump.

  Abby approached my car, her blond hair, complete with a wide pink stripe to match her sneakers, piled on top of her head in a messy cluster of curls. The color caught the sun, glowing bright and gold. It wasn’t the same burnished glow of Sunny’s but rather like a beacon of sunshine. Abby wore a tight-fitting dress in pink and white, the material stretched over her breasts, highlighting “the girls,” as she called them. Most of her face was covered by the huge sunglasses she wore, but her smile was wide, although I noticed the tension in her shoulders.

  “Hey, boss man. Nice place.” She snorted. “You meant it when you said ostentatious.”

  I bent and brushed a kiss to her cheek, taking the bag she grabbed from her back seat and throwing it onto the passenger seat of my car. Then I ran a hand through my hair.

  “I hate this place.”

  She laid a hand on my arm. “I know.”

  Taking the opportunity, I hooked my finger over the top of the sunglasses and tugged them down her nose. She immediately slapped my hand away.

  “Hey, stop that.”

  I didn’t try again. I saw what I needed to see. I wasn’t the only one having a bad day. The dark circles under her eyes told me all I needed to know. I had to find out what had happened, but I had to wait for the right moment. Otherwise, she would shut me down faster than the speed of light.

  I slid an arm around her shoulders. “Come on in. Ned will be here soon. You can keep me company, and we can go through my schedule.”

  “I am dying to find out why you’re staying on in Mission Cove,” she admitted, grabbing her huge purse from the back seat. I swore she kept half the contents of her apartment in it. “You said you’d rather spend eternity in hell than come back here.”

  I glanced at her over my shoulder as I slid the key into the front door lock. “I think we both have stories to tell.” I arched my eyebrow. “You know the code, Abigail. Tit for tat.”

  She huffed out a breath but didn’t argue. From the moment I met her, that had been our code. If I shared, so did she—and vice versa. We had no secrets between us. Our unseen scars were real and open—often bleeding, and the cause of them spoken out loud in the hopes that they would cease to hurt us.

  Sometimes, it worked. Other times, the scars ran too deep and would forever fester and wear at us. But still, we pushed on, baring our souls and accepting each other for the people we were—the people we had to become to break free from our pasts.

  She nodded, the smile gone from her face. Inside, she followed me to the kitchen and accepted the bottle of water I handed her. To provide her a chance to collect her thoughts, I gave her a tour of the house, then we headed to my father’s den.

  She looked around the room. “Has the place changed much since you lived here?”

  “Nope. Nothing—except a few things I removed to keep, but nothing anyone would notice. They were already packed in boxes or shoved in drawers.”

  She shivered. “It’s cold. What an austere place to live.”

  I swallowed a long drink of water. “It was nicer when my mom was alive. When she died, my father removed any trace of her. It became a shrine to himself. To his
power. This—” I tapped the desk “—was his throne. He commanded his world from it.” I snorted. “Mine as well.”

  “He was a real bastard.”

  “I know.”

  “But he’s gone. And you’re slowly erasing him and his deeds. Spending his fortune on everything he hated. That must feel good.”

  “It does.”

  “So why the frown? What’s wrong?”

  I rubbed my eyes. “Sunny,” I said simply. “She’s here.”

  Her eyes widened. “What? Here in Mission Cove?”

  “Yes, she’s been here for a while.”

  She sat down in the chair across from the desk. “Tell me.”

  I told her everything. How it felt returning to Mission Cove. Walking into Sunny’s bakery and the shock of seeing her. Our altercation here in the den. When I got to the part about Sunny slapping me and my response, Abby gasped quietly.

  “Oh, Linc. How awful.”

  I shook my head. “No, it was what we needed to break the ice. She had been holding in her anger all this time, so it’s hardly a surprise.”

  “You’ve been angry too.” She pointed out. “Hurt as well.”

  “Thanks to my father, we both have.” I huffed out a long breath. “I hope we can move past it.”

  “You still love her.” It was a statement not a question.

  I met her light-brown eyes. They had always reminded me of the color of caramels. Rich and, despite what she had suffered in her life, warm and open.

  “I will always love her.”

  She relaxed against the back of the chair. “That explains a lot.”

  I tilted my head. “Oh?”

  “It’s been her all this time. I’ve watched you for years, Linc. The beautiful women who came and went—who threw themselves at you. Nothing. You always looked through them—not at them. There was never a spark. Certainly not the passion I see in your eyes when you talk about Sunny.”

  “It’s always been her.”

  “Can this happen?” she asked. “Can you get past everything you’ve been through? That’s a lot of water under the bridge, Linc. You’re two different people now.”

  I shrugged. “Am I? Somewhere inside me is still the boy who loved Sunny. Who still loves Sunny. As soon as I saw her, something inside me settled. I felt complete again. I felt like Linc. Not the businessman, not the son bent on retribution. Just Linc.”

  “Is that enough?”

  I thought about her question before I replied. Abby was always a straight shooter and never held back with me. “It’s a start. All I know is when I kissed her, I felt whole again. I spent the day watching her, needing to be nearby. I can’t explain it—it simply feels as if I belonged close to her.”

  She crossed one leg over the other, swinging her foot, the glitter on her shoelaces catching the light as it pumped. “I won’t even address the kissing or you hanging out in her shop all day. But be careful, Linc. Sometimes the past clouds our judgment. Stirs up emotions that were dormant, making them powerful and alive. Don’t confuse old emotions that suddenly have come to life with what may shape your future.” She paused, her voice becoming soft. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. And I’m worried the Sunny of today could hurt you even more than the memories you carry of Sunny inside your head.”

  “I didn’t expect this,” I admitted. “But I can’t tell you how right it feels, Abby. I’m not blind—I know we have years to talk about, lots of distance and things to discuss and work through, but I want to try.”

  “I assumed so from the bag you had me bring you. You’re staying here?”

  “At the hotel.” I looked around. “Not in this house. I will never stay in this house again.”

  “Too many ghosts,” she agreed. “They’re all around you.”

  “Yes.” I studied her, not hiding the fact that I was doing so. When she had removed her sunglasses earlier, I had seen the fatigue on her face. Recognized the lines of pain around her eyes. That was always her tell. Regardless of the expression on her face, the neutral tone of her voice, her inner torment was always evident in her eyes. The caramel became muddy and dull. The small V between her eyes was more pronounced. Tiny lines became etched into her skin. Anyone who really knew Abby recognized it.

  I was one of the few people who knew her.

  I was about to ask her what was going on when the sound of a car approaching stopped me. It would have to wait until he left. “Ned is here.”

  She reached into her bag and pulled out her tablet. “Okay, boss, let’s get some work done.”

  I stood, brushing off my pants. “This conversation isn’t over, Abby.”

  She smiled sadly. “I’m aware.”

  I signed the last of the documents Ned gave me. “So, everything is arranged now?”

  “Mostly. We’ve finally locked down most of the permits. I’m waiting for the last one from the city, and we should be good to go.” He sat back, regarding me. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m going to say it anyway, Linc. I’m bringing in appraisers to go through the house. You might not care about the value, but as your lawyer, I insist on having valuations. Your accountant can write off the things you give away as donations. It makes the most sense.”

  I scrubbed my hand over my face. “How much longer does it delay things?”

  “A week. I’ll have them here to do the work, we can donate some things, then you can throw open the doors and give away the rest. The house is scheduled to be razed in about a month.”

  “Why so long?”

  He smirked. “You don’t just walk into a place and implode it. It has to be planned and wired. They’ll be here tomorrow to make their assessment. I prebooked the date, and as long as things go all right, they’ll stick to it. If adjustments have to be made, so will the date.” He eyed me knowingly. “Step back, Linc. Think about it rationally—with your head, not your heart.”

  I stared out the window. Part of me wanted to watch this house implode on itself. The roof and walls collapsing like the house of cards my father had built around his life. I wanted to walk among the rubble, nothing left but dust and bricks that would be hauled away, until all that remained was empty ground. Another part of me didn’t want to wait—instead, empty out the house tomorrow and let bulldozers pull it down.

  But Ned was right, and I had to handle this properly. Make sure it was done correctly—all of it. The contents and the building itself.

  I nodded in agreement. “Make it happen.”

  Abby spoke up. “I can be here while the appraisers are in the house.”

  “That would be great.”

  “Since you’re staying, we can set up a temporary office. I can help you and take care of this at the same time,” she offered.

  “Great idea. Book yourself a room in the same place I’m staying. Come up on Monday, and we’ll figure out a schedule.”

  “We can work from here?” she asked.

  I glanced around, wondering how it would feel to work here. To conduct my business in this house where my father handled his affairs. I cleared my throat. “Maybe in the dining room.” I could handle that much. Once my mother had passed, we never used it. I ate alone most of the time, and the few occasions my father and I had eaten a meal together, we’d sat in the kitchen.

  She nodded in understanding. “I’ll set it up.”

  Ned went through some more particulars, Abby busy making notes on her tablet. Then he stood. “I’ll be back next week once the appraisals are finished. We’ll review all the items and go from there.” He shook my hand. “Be patient, Linc. I know you want this place gone, and it will be. I hope it brings you the closure you seek.”

  I frowned as he walked away. Of course it would bring me closure. Knowing this place no longer existed would help ease the hold my past still had on me. Destroying all the landmarks and decisions of Franklin Thomas from this town would help everyone. I wanted his memory, his entire history, erased.

  “Did your father design this house?” Abby
asked.

  I shook my head. “No. It was being built, and the owner went bankrupt. My father swooped in and bought it for a song, completed construction, and laughed privately at the fact that every day the man who was building it had to look up and see it, knowing he would never have it. Knowing the house he planned on living in with his family was being enjoyed by someone ‘more deserving,’ as my father claimed.”

  “Wow,” Abby breathed out. “That’s fucking harsh.”

  I barked out a laugh. “The truth of it is that my father was already playing games in this town. He drove the man to bankruptcy. Then he had the audacity to act innocent while rubbing it in his face.”

  “What a two-faced bastard.”

  “That he was. Offered him a job at one of his businesses. Clapped him on his shoulder and assured him things would improve. All the while making sure his life never got better. I went to school with his son. They moved the next year. I remember my mother saying they were looking for a fresh start.”

  “Your mother had no idea about your father? The horrible things he did?”

  I shook my head. “She knew he wasn’t the man she thought she’d married, I think. But she had no idea of his twisted ego. He hid it well, but once she died, he let it out full strength. He liked me knowing what he did. What he was capable of. She did what he told her to do, aside from loving me. That was the rule she broke of his that he never forgave. Me before him. Then she had the gall to die and stick him with my care.” I sighed. “I think, to be honest, she was better off dead.”

  “What about you, though? Were you better off without her?”

  “No,” I snapped. “You know that.” I leaned forward. “I know what you’re trying to do, Abby, and it isn’t going to work. We’re not talking about me anymore. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Now it was her turn to look uncomfortable. She was silent for a moment, twisting the end of her pink streak over and again, tugging on her hair just hard enough to feel pain, so she could concentrate on something other than the horrific moment she was living through. She had done that for all the years I’d known her. She told me once at times it was the only way she could keep herself from screaming when she was younger. I let her gather her thoughts, knowing she would tell me the truth. She always did.