The Summer of Us (Mission Cove Book 1)

by Melanie Moreland

  I walked away, trying not to laugh. He’d probably not remember any of this, or if he did, the details would be sketchy. All I had done the entire time was make a lot of noises and nod my head. Like all politicians, no matter how small-time, he liked to hear himself talk. I stopped at the clubhouse entrance and spoke to the manager. “The mayor is a little under the weather. Make sure he gets home safely. Don’t let him drive.”

  He looked past my shoulder with a resigned stare. I had a feeling it wasn’t the first time the mayor had been under the weather at the course. But I refused to allow him to drive in case he had an accident. I didn’t want that on my conscience.

  There was enough there already.

  Back at Sunny’s, I found Abby at a table in the bakery. She looked up as I walked in.

  “Hey, boss.”

  I sat down heavily, feeling exhausted. “Hi. Why are you working down here?”

  She grinned. “You’re right. The biscuits are addictive. I could smell them all morning, and I was hungry. I came down to have something to eat and decided I liked it down here.”

  I inhaled the sweet smell of cinnamon, sugar, and butter. “It does smell good.”

  Abby’s eyes danced. “Sunny let me help in the kitchen for a bit.” She held out a plate. “I made these.”

  I took a cookie from the plate, taking a bite. “Good job,” I mumbled around my mouthful. “If you get tired of being my sidekick, maybe Sunny will hire you.”

  “She has a job here anytime she wants. I get the feeling you’re a bit of a tyrant.” Sunny’s arms draped around my neck, her voice a low hum in my ear.

  I wrapped my hands around her wrists, pulling her tighter. I looked up, meeting her amused gaze. “I think I’m an awesome boss.”

  She dropped a quick kiss to my lips. It took everything in me not to pull her back and kiss her harder. Longer.

  “Uh-huh,” she responded, releasing her embrace and sitting beside me. She studied me. “You look exhausted.”

  I ran a hand over my face. “I am. Between the mayor and his wife, it’s been a day.”

  Sunny made a sympathetic noise in her throat. “She’s a handful.”

  “When did she become deputy mayor?”

  “Not long after your father died, I think.”

  I shrugged. “She hated me as a kid, and it appears she still does. She didn’t try to hide the fact this morning.” I snorted. “Pretty sure after today, the hatred has grown to loathing. She’ll make any request that has to go through town hall difficult.”

  “Why does she hate you so much?” Abby asked. “I mean, who hates a kid?”

  I shrugged. “No idea, but she always has.”

  Sunny pursed her lips, looking over my shoulder. There was something in her expression that made me lean forward. “What?”

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “I went to meet my mom at work at the hotel one day after school. I always used the employee entrance. It was a nice day, so I waited outside, sitting on a picnic table the staff used for breaks. It was sort of off to the side where no one would see it.” She paused, looking nervous.

  My curiosity was piqued. “Keep going.”

  “I saw Mrs. Tremont come out the back door and head to her car. She looked around as if she was making sure no one saw her. I remember wondering why she came out the back and not the front. She always liked to be seen.” Sunny swallowed. “As soon as she drove away, a man came out the same door. He did the same sort of sweep of the area, then he left.”

  “So, she was having an affair,” I surmised.

  “I think so.”

  “Did you know the man?”

  Sunny nodded, her voice quiet. “It was your father, Linc.”

  15

  Linc

  Hours later, I was still reeling from what Sunny had told me. Mrs. Tremont and my father had an affair. I had no idea how long it lasted, but obviously, she must have had strong feelings about him, given her actions and the words she had flung at me this morning.

  So many things made sense now. How my father always seemed to be one step ahead of the mayor in so many things. His wife must have been feeding my father information. I wondered how often they met and how they kept it a secret for so long.

  I wondered if perhaps that was why she hated me. Had she thought she would be a beneficiary in my father’s will? Had he made her promises while I was younger about them being together once I was gone?

  He must have been an even better actor than I gave him credit for.

  The man I knew had no emotions. At least no positive ones. Once my mother died, any sort of decency in him had gone to the grave with her. He used people, then discarded them when they no longer had a use. I was sure he knew exactly how to manipulate the mayor’s wife—string her along with false promises, use my presence as an excuse for whatever was needed at the time. I could imagine vague assurances, untrue murmurs of the future, declarations of feelings that were false, since he was incapable of any.

  The mayor had always been easily led. My father made fun of him behind his back, often stating he was the one pulling the strings. He had them both duped—in fact, he still did. She felt wronged, not by the affair they had, but the promises he had never fulfilled, and she was blaming me—the way he had all those years. The mayor still thought my father was a great man, proving he was the idiot my father always said he was. I would give him that much.

  I was so lost in my musings that a hand on my shoulder caused me to jump. Sunny smiled in apology and sat across from me, sliding a plate in my direction.

  “You’ve been in here for hours, Linc. You must be hungry.”

  I looked at the plate, my appetite strangely absent. I pushed it away. “Maybe in a while.”

  I rested my elbows on the table. “You never said anything to me—years ago—about this.”

  Sunny frowned. “I never had any proof, and I only saw them the one time, so I couldn’t be certain. I thought at the time it was possible for it simply to be a coincidence.”

  “But you don’t think that now.”

  She shook her head. “My mom and I talked once, years later. I told her what I saw. She said your father had a permanent room at the resort. One on the main floor, at the back. He also had keycards to get in any door. It wasn’t common knowledge, although there were rumors.” Sunny sighed. “She saw the mayor’s wife leave his room more than once.”

  “Nobody talked about it? No gossip?”

  “I’m sure there was behind the scenes. But your father owned the resort, Linc. No one was going to speak up and risk their jobs.”

  “Too scared of repercussions.”

  “Exactly.”

  “It makes a lot of sense, when I think about it. He was using her, and I’m sure, in some fashion she was using him, but I think, somehow, it changed for her. She was certainly passionate about his ‘memory’ this morning. I’m sure in order to dissuade her, he used me and my presence as an excuse for years. No wonder she hates me.”

  “Does it matter?” Sunny questioned. “Her feelings, I mean?”

  “Not really. It explains a lot, though.” I pulled the plate toward me, the tempting pile of biscuits too much to ignore anymore. “I am grateful all the business dealings I have in this town are hidden in numbered companies. If she knew I had anything to do with them, I’d have roadblocks going up left, right, and center.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  I bit into a biscuit, the texture light and airy. I chewed in appreciation and swallowed. “Where is Abby?”

  She chuckled. “Downstairs with Shannon. Preparing the dough for some of the cookies for tomorrow. We often make it the night before and then bake as needed. We’ll be busy this weekend.”

  “Tourist season starts.”

  “Yes.”

  “I had no idea she liked to bake. She certainly never shared anything at the office.”

  “I think maybe she keeps a few things to herse
lf, Linc. Some private parts of her life that are only for her.”

  I finished the biscuit, wiping my fingers on a napkin. “But she shared with you.”

  Sunny looked past my shoulder. “You see Abby as strong, capable, and a force to be reckoned with. Your right-hand. I think she associates baking with a—” she paused as if searching for the right word “—softer side of herself. Something she doesn’t show many people—including you. She hates to be vulnerable.”

  “You are amazing,” I murmured. “You see all that in such a short time. You barely know her.”

  “I see myself in her, Linc. I’ve had to hide the softer side of myself away so I can be the business owner, the boss, I need to be. I had to find the tougher side to survive everything.”

  “Everything, including my leaving you.”

  She met my gaze. “Yes.”

  “You know now I didn’t want to leave you, Sunny.”

  “Yes. I know. I just need…”

  “A little time. I understand.”

  “You do?”

  I lifted her hand, sliding it into mine, staring down at the way my palm encased hers. Covering her small hand entirely. Holding it safely, the way her heart held mine.

  “I knew the truth for ten years, Sunny. You had no idea of the depths of treachery my father had sunk to. You really thought I had abandoned you.”

  “I did.” She paused, looking at our joined hands. “Especially after I confronted him.”

  “What?” I gasped. “You went and saw him?”

  “Yes.”

  I held her hand to my chest. “Did he hurt you? Tell me he didn’t touch you. I swear to god, I will find him in hell and drag him back up here and kill him all over again if he touched you,” I raged.

  Her eyes widened in response to my rant. “No,” she assured me. “He didn’t have to. He used his words to hurt.”

  “Tell me everything,” I demanded.

  “I wanted to confront him. After I got back from camp, I went to the house. He came to the door, looking amused. He told me to go away—as if I were a fly he was shooing off his arm. He said he had no interest in talking to one of Linc’s castoffs.”

  My grip on her hand tightened. “There were no castoffs. There was only ever you.”

  “I know.”

  She frowned, losing herself in the story.

  “He told me to get off his property and not to come back. ‘Forget you ever knew my son,’ he instructed. ‘I guarantee you he’s already forgotten about you.’”

  I shook my head. “I would never forget about you.”

  She smiled sadly. “I refused, demanding that he give me your contact information. He had me follow him to his den. He picked up his phone and sent you a text. Then he showed me your reply.”

  “He never sent me anything. I had no cell phone.”

  “I know that now, but I didn’t at the time.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Linc,” she quoted. “Sunny is here and wants to talk to you. Your reply was—No, not interested. Tell her to move on. That part of my life is over. I’m not coming back.”

  She swallowed. “I was sure it was a trick. I grabbed the phone and texted you myself. I begged you to call me, talk to me. Your reply said it all. Leave me alone, Sunny. You were a great pastime, but my life is heading in another direction. One you are not a part of. One you will never be a part of again.”

  She wiped away a tear that ran down her cheek. “I dropped the phone, and your father picked it up. He looked at the screen with a smirk and told me that ‘should do it.’ Then he told me to get out, leave him alone, or he would cause so much trouble for my family, life wouldn’t be worth living. He was careful to state he was sure I didn’t want to jeopardize my mother’s job or the welfare of my sisters.”

  “He threatened you.”

  She nodded. “I ran to the door, and he followed me, laughing at my pain. He grabbed my arm before I could leave and told me that girls like me were a dime a dozen. He knew it and you knew it. He made some other scathing remarks about me and my family and pushed me out the door. I fell on the porch, sobbing, and he kept laughing. It was the cruelest sound I ever heard. Then he slammed the door shut. I wept all the way home. I couldn’t reconcile the boy I loved with the words I read on the screen.”

  “Sunny,” I begged. “Baby, it wasn’t me.”

  “I know that now. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would have known he’d never let me touch the cell phone if it was really you.” She shrugged. “But I wasn’t, and he knew that.”

  I stood and paced the room. “But can you get past that? All the mistrust and pain?” I spun on my heel, facing her. “You are the opposite of everything he said. Priceless. I thought of you every damn day. Sometimes it was the only way I could make it through the days. Jesus, Sunny, seeing you again is like a miracle.” I dropped to my knees in front of her. “I never stopped believing in us—loving you. But it was different for you. You thought I betrayed you. You thought I used you. Can you get past that? Can you reconcile the truth you know now with the truth you believed all those years?”

  Her eyes searched mine, her dark gaze soft. “Yes, Linc. I know the truth now. I’m coming to terms with it.” She cupped my face. “You have to as well.”

  “I hate him more than ever. I hate him for the years he stole from us. The pain he caused you. All the what-ifs he stole.”

  “What-ifs?”

  I leaned into her touch. “I imagined us married, maybe a baby or two by now, Sunny,” I said quietly. “Building a life together as a family. He stole all that from us.”

  “You wanted to have babies with me?”

  “Yeah,” I breathed out. “I still do.”

  “Oh.”

  “I used to dream of a little girl who looked like you whom I could spoil. A little boy I could carry on my shoulder and teach about baseball and fishing. A house we’d share. The love we’d give our kids. Each other.”

  She tilted her head to the side, studying me.

  “Sometimes, our dreams change,” she whispered. “Or sometimes, they’re put on hold.”

  I pushed closer to her. “Are you saying you’d still have my babies, Sunny?”

  Pink tinged her cheeks. “It’s not impossible, Linc. We’re still young, and we can rebuild our dreams.”

  “Sunny.” I captured her mouth with mine, running my hands up her neck and bunching them into her hair. I kissed her with everything in me. The years of pain, the emotion of the moment, the joy of realizing my future—the one I had thought I had lost all those years ago—might still be possible. Of knowing that regardless of what had transpired, she was back in my life. I kissed her until we were breathless. Until she knew, without a doubt, the boy who loved her then, was the man who loved her now. That I was here and not leaving her.

  I kissed her until my knees ached, and I knew if I didn’t stop now, then I wouldn’t stop. Not until she was under me, naked and pleading, and I was inside her. And I didn’t want that to happen with my assistant not far away and no privacy. I needed to take Sunny somewhere we could be alone. I wanted to rediscover her all over again.

  And I had an idea of where we could go. I would have to arrange for Sunny to have some time off, but I would wait until this weekend was over before I told her about my plans. For now, I was all hers—whatever she needed me to do, I would help.

  But then, she was mine.

  16

  Linc

  I sipped coffee and watched Sunny race around the bakery, her owner hat firmly in place. She directed, moved, adjusted, instructed, and never once lost her patience or the smile on her face. She was in her element, and I felt a glow of pride observing her.

  I had put aside my own work for the next few days. The long weekend would bring in a flurry of tourists, many of whom would want to buy cookies, biscuits, or other tempting treats. Sit for a few moments and eat a sandwich or sip a coffee. Sunny had extra staff, lots of her delicious baked goods, and tons of suppli
es for sandwiches and coffee on hand. She also had one area set up with samples. Her idea was simple. Let them taste before they buy. Because, she assured me with a wink, once they taste, they always buy.

  That was my job this weekend. Official sampler overseer. I had a T-shirt and hat, both branded with Sunny’s logo. Abby was helping in the kitchen. She was excited and relaxed, which was great to see. Much to my delight, she and Sunny had become friends, and the two of them worked well together. We were both eager about helping out Sunny.

  The door opened, and Michael came in, his arms filled with towels and linens. Sunny liked white cloths on the tables, and she went through a lot every day. Michael kept them clean, as well as all the towels, aprons, and other items she wanted pristine. Her entire shop had an old-fashioned feel to it. The soft color on the walls, the woodwork, linen cloths, and the mismatched pieces of china all gave it a homey vibe. It suited Sunny.

  Sunny hurried forward with a smile. “I’ll take those, Michael.”

  He gave them to her, then came over and shook my hand. “Linc.”

  Sunny came back through the kitchen door. “Sit, and I’ll bring you a coffee.”

  He smiled as he sat, pulling off his baseball cap. “A cinnamon bun would go well with that,” he called out. “I’ve been smelling them baking all morning,” he informed me. “A man can only take so much.”

  I chuckled. You could smell the bakery for blocks. The rich scent of cinnamon, sugar, and butter drew you in.

  Abby came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of the cinnamon buns. Her wild curls were held back with a hairband, her bright-pink stripe vivid against the blond. She was wearing her pink high-top sneakers and swaddled in an apron. After talking to Sunny, she slid two buns onto a plate and carried it over to the table, along with a coffee. As she approached, I turned to say something to Michael, except he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at Abby, his eyes focused entirely on her.

  “Holy mother of god,” he mumbled.

  I tried not to laugh, especially when I looked at Abby and saw her returning his stare with one of her own.