Summer Burns Read online

"I'd never heard a burp that loud in my life," Summer laughed as they reminisced about high school. The dusky sun washed her features, making her look absolutely beautiful in the light. Her bangs flickered in her face, and she kept brushing the strands out of her eyes.

  Yep. The park was way better than sitting inside some dark donut shop.

  He grinned. "Well, I'm sure, if you had been in the locker room when all the guys were there, you would have heard some good ones."

  "Hey, she startled Coach Brenner. To this day, I can still see his face, peaking around the corner, looking partially stunned and partially impressed that Melissa could do that." She picked at the donut in her hand, and ate a little bite.

  They'd stopped at a local donut shop, and originally were going to stay and talk, but the shop had a live band playing, and he suggested the park instead.

  It wasn't too hot tonight, not horribly stifling, anyway, as the sun went down.

  "I'm impressed she stunned Coach Brenner. That guy could belch," he said.

  "We girls weren't all sweet and nice down there in the locker room," she said.

  "I guess not." They walked along the sidewalk, a bike path or something through the trees. Periodically, there were little statues along the path, donated by this company or that to make the park nicer.

  "It was so long ago," she said as she tore off another bit of her donut.

  "Another lifetime," he agreed.

  They walked a bit longer, in silence, until she glanced at him, her head tilted to the side, like she was appraising him.

  "So what happened with you? Why aren't you married with fourteen kids now?"

  He smirked. "No time, really."

  "It gets away from us, doesn't it?"

  He nodded. "Before I knew it, I was thirty." Boy did he ever.

  "With a string of broken hearts along the way, I'm sure."

  "Are you trying to ask if I have a girlfriend, Summer?"

  She shrugged. "Have. Had. Whatever. I can't imagine you've been celibate for the last fifteen years."

  "No, I have not," he smirked. "But there haven't been a lot of women. As you know, it's not easy being a military family." The few women he dated for more than a minute came to mind. Committed relationships that proved finding a woman who was strong enough to be an Army wife was harder than he thought.

  He never met anyone who could handle the distance and time apart required. And he'd seen way too many brothers at arms dealing with home problems because of the pressures.

  "Only too well," she said. "When Jake would come home, he'd just hug me for hours, because he was so relieved I didn't want a divorce."

  "I couldn't seem to find one like that," he muttered.

  "Oh, I see." She put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry."

  "It's not your fault."

  "No, but I should say something, because there are decent women in this world. Ones that are mature enough to handle the commitment."

  "Were you?"

  "Mature enough? Hardly. But I did what I had to. I may have spent a few nights crying myself to sleep, but I tried to remember that he was fighting wars, and I had no right to be a big baby because I missed him." Her shoulders went back, like she was about ready to go to war herself.

  "Hence my single status."

  "I get that," she swallowed the last bite of her donut. "So are you done going overseas?"

  "Yeah. Ready to stay stateside."

  "You said you were here for training, right?"

  He nodded. "Only got a few more weeks to go. I will go back to Ft. Hood in August."

  "So you've been here, what, a week?"

  "Three."

  She gave him that look again. "And you're just now coming by to pay your respects?"

  This made him look away from her, staring at the trees ahead of them on the path. "Had to find you first."

  "That only sounds moderately creepy."

  He grinned.

  She put her hand on the crook of his elbow. "Look, I'm glad that you did. And I'm glad that you wanted to spend some time with me tonight."

  "It's called a date, I believe."

  "I know. I just think about what a date means, and it gets me all jumbled up inside."

  "What does it mean, Summer?"

  "That I'm not just a widow anymore, but a girl." Her eyes glistened again, and it kicked him in the gut.

  Such emotion all balled up in her...

  He pulled her to him, and she fell into his embrace. He didn't know what to say to her to make her feel better. Or if he needed to.

  Instead, they just stood there, holding each other as the sun went down.

  ~*~

  After the moment in the park, he wasn't sure what to do. It felt so real, so right to hold her like that, but it also felt so strange.

  After all, she was Jake's wife. Even if Jake was gone, he'd always be in the shadows. Hennessey would turn a corner, and there he'd be, looming over everything. A constant reminder of why and how fucked war really was.

  And how screwed up Fate was that he was here, and Jake wasn't.

  How could Hennessey start feeling things for her?

  Because that's exactly what he felt--feelings.

  And that tore him up.

  Summer must have been aware of his discomfort, because she asked if he could take her home, claiming being tired, though he wondered if there was more to it.

  On the way back, Summer took his hand as he drove, and when her fingers laced through his, the sensation caused another war inside him.

  She told him a couple of little anecdotes about Emma on the way back to her place, and some new dress the girl couldn't wait to show him.

  "Amazing she likes me so much."

  "Maybe you're just a likeable guy." She squeezed his fingers.

  "Maybe I have you fooled," he replied. Because he felt like he was. Not that he wasn't a good person, in general, but it seemed strange that a little girl would be so fond of him.

  She released his hand. "Children are very perceptive. I would trust a child's judgment over an adult's any day. They see things we don't."

  "Kids don't know any better."

  "I think they do." She touched his leg, a casual touch that he doubted she realized sent urges through him. "She normally doesn't care for adults, but she seems taken with you. That makes me take notice. You're the first grown up male she's ever been interested in."

  "It's because I smell."

  Summer laughed, and so did he.

  They pulled into the lit up house's driveway and Summer sighed.

  "What's the matter?"

  "My family is still up."

  He raised an eyebrow. "You think they're waiting up for you?"

  "Winter wouldn't care what I did. That's not her area. However, Autumn and my mom? They're likely waiting for me to give them all the details of my date."

  "You should tell them we went to Make Out Lake or something."

  She smirked. "My clothes aren't messed up enough."

  "That can be fixed."

  She popped him in the arm, and he realized what he'd said.

  "I mean, mess them up. Not because of... you know." Man, he was such an idiot sometimes, the things that come out of his mouth.

  "Sure you did," She crossed her arms. "I got you figured out now, Matthew Hennessey. You're just looking to get lucky." Her eyes sparkled as she said the words.

  Any other time, he would have been irritated at the comment, but he could tell by her tone she was just messing with him.

  "I already am," he said.

  "You think?"

  Flashes of the desert hell he'd survived came to mind. "Yeah. I'm very lucky."

  His tone must have tipped her off, because her posture shifted, and she was no longer looking quite so playful. "Yeah. I guess you are."

  She twisted in her seat and undid her seat belt. "Look, I'm going to go."

  He nodded. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

  "It's okay." She glanced out the window, then bac
k at him. "Are you all right?"

  "Fine."

  She put her hand on his leg again. "I mean, are you all right? After everything over there?"

  He clenched his teeth before answering. "Getting past it. Everything takes time."

  She nodded, and looked far away for a moment. "Does being around people help?"

  "Sometimes."

  "Then come over tomorrow. We always grill on Saturday nights. Sometimes we play board games after. Bring a friend if you want."

  He smirked. "I'll think about it."

  "Good."

  And she leaned across the car and gave him a hug. He held her for a moment. When she pulled away, she was just a breath away from him. He hesitated, because she was close enough to kiss, if he moved just a little bit--

  She moved instead, and pressed her lips against his. No open mouth. No tongue.

  Very chaste.

  Didn't stop him from opening his mouth.

  There was no tongue, no gratuitous slobber, just a little bit of an opening. A bit of movement, allowing him to taste her more.

  Something that, if he would admit it, he'd wanted to do ever since high school.

  To his surprise, she opened her mouth as well. The kiss deepened.

  Then she jerked away.

  "Oh! Oh. Um. I'm sorry," she said as she pulled away from him.

  "Summer, wait," he called, but it was too late. She almost leaped from the car and ran into the house.

  Well, that didn't go well.

  Chapter Eleven

  Saturday

  "Summer's got a boyfriend," Autumn sang--just loud enough for me to hear--as she laid the printout of my updated schedule on my station. She'd been singing it off and on all day long.

  Not that anyone would have overheard her--the salon was going full-throttle this busy Saturday afternoon.

  I growled at her. Partially over the singing. Partially over the updated client schedule--bringing me an update meant I got another appointment for today.

  Will I ever get out of here? I turned my client's chair so I could glance at the paper while I finished her style.

  And wanted to scream.

  I set down my flat iron and snagged the piece of paper. Proper and politely, I told my client I would be just a moment, and marched to the reception desk.

  Autumn was playing with her cell phone when I walked up.

  "What the hell, Autumn?" I flung the piece of paper in her face.

  "What?"

  "Another weave? I've done three already today. Seriously. Someone else can do it."

  Autumn rolled her eyes. "Were you, or were you not, just two days ago, bitching that you needed more money so you could move out?"

  "That doesn't mean I want to work until my shoulders fall off!"

  "She asked for you," Autumn shrugged, like that should end the conversation and turned to the computer.

  I glanced at the clock. It was after two. Another weave would have me here until five. Not only would Paula have a fit because I was late, I'd never get home in time to clean up before the barbecue, and if Matthew decided to come over...

  "That didn't mean you had to book it today!"

  "Sure I did. She was desperate."

  I growled and glanced at the name again--perfect, one of my super picky clients who always takes an extra hour longer that she should.

  "What's going on," Winter asked, appearing beside me. From her glare, she looked like she was ready to lay down the law with a business smile that looked like a shark about to bite. "You two had better not be fighting."

  "She booked me a weave," I said, shoving the paper in Winter's face. "After I booked myself out at three!"

  Winter raised her eyebrow. "And?"

  "Look," I said, pointing at the schedule.

  "So? I told her to." Winter said, handing it back. "It's not like you have a life."

  I blinked. "Seriously? You just said that."

  Winter raised her eyebrow again. "I have more of a life than you do. Shut up and go finish your client."

  "You so do not," I muttered and I walked back to my station.

  I was pretty sure that Autumn was far too smug about Winter siding with her.

  Ugh. I needed a new family.

  ~*~

  "Summer, calm down," Mom said as I fought with my hair. Naturally, the quickie shower I took wound up taking longer than I meant, and it felt like the blow dryer at home was going out, because it couldn't dry my hair in a timely fashion--it's not like I had a lot of hair anyway, so there's no reason why it shouldn't dry it in a few minutes.

  But evidently, I'm wrong.

  "He'll be here any minute," I said as I tried to fluff my hair. I sighed, because it looked to be a lost cause. Instead, I grabbed my tinted moisturizer and applied that. I didn't have time for full makeup.

  "What's the matter, you think we can't entertain your soldier for you?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Look, we may all be living here, but he's still here on my invitation. Didn't you once tell me if I invited someone over, I'd better be ready to entertain my guest?"

  "I did. But under the circumstances, exceptions can be made."

  "Uh huh," I muttered as I flipped my hair this way and that, trying to see if the slightly damp 'do would look nice some way.

  "Here," my mom said, handing me a little hairpin that looked like a DNA strand.

  "Thanks." I twisted my hair in the back and screwed the pin into my hair, where it magically would hold my impromptu French twist for most of the night.

  In theory.

  But hey, whatever works at this point.

  I snagged a bright pink bandana and wrapped it around my head as well to detract from the crappy 'do just as the doorbell rang.

  "Arrrg, I'm not ready," I said as I darted to my closet to check my appearance.

  At least I was clean. Inhaling a breath, my chest felt tingly, like it did before an attack.

  I grabbed my inhaler and took a hit.

  Preventative and all that.

  "I got it Mommy!" Emma went darting through the house--in full costume, too. I pretty much just saw a streak of blue as she ran by the hallway to the front door.

  Mom followed after Emma. I had just gotten myself together when I heard Matthew's voice.

  "Well, you look like a lovely princess, Emma."

  "I'm a queen!"

  "Oh, sorry," he said, and glanced at me.

  And instantly, the kiss we'd shared--what I'd thought would be quick simple and over--replayed in my memory in slow detail, and I felt my cheeks get warm. Especially when he looked at me like that.

  Because I was pretty sure he was remembering the kiss too.

  Yeah, I kissed him. So what? It wasn't supposed to mean anything, at least not in the moment. That's what I've been telling myself all day.

  Yet I couldn't stop thinking about him, and I wanted to talk to him since I went inside.

  I tossed a text to him during a quick break at work, letting him know he was still invited to the cook out. I felt like a bumbling idiot when I darted out of his car last night. I should have called him or texted him about stuff anyway.

  Not just a "come over and eat" text.

  I was such a dork.

  When my rational thoughts caught up to the kissing last night, I realized I probably shouldn't be enjoying it as much as I was.

  Or maybe that was the problem--I felt guilt over enjoying it.

  Didn't matter exactly why, but I ran away, because I wasn't sure what I was supposed to feel. So I voted for avoidance.

  Seemed safest.

  But from the way he looked at me now, I was pretty sure he wanted to talk about it. Or resume. Or maybe that was just my wishful thinking.

  "Oh Matthew, what have you here?" Mom said, jarring me out of my thoughts.

  Matthew's gaze hit mine. "Just some steaks."

  "My goodness," Mom said as she took the bag. "There's a half a dozen steaks in here." She glanced at me. "I hope we have enough charcoal."

&
nbsp; He gestured over his shoulder. "I brought an extra bag."

  "Hungry, Matthew?" I asked.

  He shrugged. "I don't get to grill very often. Thought I'd bring extra and take the leftovers home, if that's okay." He looked at my mother when he spoke.

  She seemed to find his attention wonderful. "Of course. And if you like doing it, then by all means, you can be the cook today." Mom put her hand on his elbow.

  "I don't want to disrupt your plans."

  "Nonsense," Mom said. "You boys usually love to play with fire."

  He grinned, then he glanced at me. "We do."

  And son of a bitch, did my heart start hammering. I practically felt the look all the way to my toes. Which is totally improbable, right? Right.

  Yet there was something there, seriously. I felt that spark instantly.

  And I wanted to kiss him again.

  And some more.

  And then--

  "Mommy!"

  I glanced at Emma, glad for a reprieve of the look from Matthew. My darling daughter wanted help with her Elsa wig, and I was happy to comply. After all, I needed to not be thinking about the spark that zinged between me and Matthew.

  What the hell was that, anyway?

  How did he look at me, and all of a sudden, my insides were all quivery. I mean, I'd read about it in books, heard people talk about it and stuff, but seriously, in real life, this stuff doesn't happen.

  Does it?

  "Ouch! Mom!"

  I glanced at Emma. I had evidently tightened the wig too tight on her head. "Sorry."

  "It's okay." Out she went, ready to show off her full ensemble.

  I shook my head. Where was my brain tonight? I was just exhausted. That's my story, anyway.

  I joined Mom in the kitchen, where she was seasoning the steaks.

  "Here let me help you," I said, reaching for the bottle of olive oil.

  "Nonsense. You get yourself a glass of wine and go join your guest," Mom said, and glanced through the tiny window that showed the back yard. "I doubt we have any beer, but there's some bourbon in the cabinet if he wanted a bourbon and coke."

  "I'll ask." I poured myself a glass of wine and went outside.

  And there was my sister, sitting in the corner of the patio, watching Matthew. And I wasn't very sure I liked how she was watching him.

  Okay, there's no doubt about it. I didn't like that look at all. She looked ready to devour.