Summer Burns Page 8

  Especially when Matthew seemed oblivious as he fiddled with the grill.

  "Stop it," I said, bumping her.

  "Stop what? I can admire a man's form, can't I?"

  "No, you can't."

  "Well, it's not like you're going to do anything," Autumn said.

  I opened my mouth to object when my daughter came to the door and yelled for her Auntie Autumn to help in the kitchen.

  Whether Mom was watching or not, I don't know, but I appreciated her timing.

  Matthew glanced at me as I walked over.

  "Hey," he said, smiling.

  "I don't think we have any beer, but I could make you a drink if you wanted one."

  He shook his head. "I'm fine." He gestured to the little table near the grill, where a pop sat. "I don't drink and drive."

  "I understand. I hope you don't mind me drinking."

  "Rough day?"

  "Yeah, how can you tell?"

  "Your hair is in a bandana, and there are bags under your eyes."

  I wiped my eyes, not that it would help but sheesh. "You sure know how to make a girl feel pretty." I turned away, because I wasn't sure if I should be insulted or laugh it off.

  The sad thing was, he was right. That final color today about kicked my butt.

  While I was happy that he came over tonight, the adrenalin that kept me going all day was starting to wear off and I didn't want to actually sit down, because I might not get back up.

  So I paced around, or at least tried to.

  He snagged my arm. "Wait."

  "What? Are you going to tell me my bra strap is hanging out too?"

  His finger grazed the sleeve of my tee shirt. "I wouldn't mind if it did."

  I met his gaze, and I could tell from the way he looked at me that he meant what he said. His thumb caressed my skin, just at the edge of my shirt sleeve, sending shivers through me while I kept staring into his eyes.

  He had such pretty blue eyes.

  Very slowly, he stepped toward me and slipped his hand low on my back. "I've been thinking about you."

  I nodded. "Me too."

  "I think we need a redo."

  "A redo?"

  "Yes." He leaned in closer and I could smell the cologne he had on. Heady, awesome smelling stuff, mixing with the smell of the charcoal heating up.

  We sort of stood there, staring at each other. My gaze darted over his lips--even those were nice. Not too thick, not too thin. Soft looking.

  Bet they'd feel really good against me.

  Yeah... I think I need to feel those against me again.

  I sighed.

  Then Mother Nature had to join the party. A breeze picked up, sending a blast of smoke from the grill right in my face and up my nose.

  I started coughing, and pulled away from him, because I could feel it in my chest. My breathing got harder, and the tingles started, the ones that signaled that I needed my rescue inhaler right now.

  Seriously.

  Now...

  I turned, and I must have been wheezing.

  "Summer?"

  I gestured to my chest. "Inhaler."

  He took off like a shot, barreling through the back door, I smirked--or what I mentally considered a smirk, anyway, because I wasn't in any positon to laugh. He slammed the door against the wall in the house, and I heard him yell for my inhaler.

  You would have thought hellfire and damnation had landed in the back yard, the way he barreled into the house. I waved after him, trying to stop him.

  This wasn't a big deal...

  I could...

  I could...

  I had just made it to the door when he and Mom met me, and someone--not sure who--shoved the plastic tube in my face. I took a couple of hits to calm things down.

  It took a few moments for the medicine to work, but like every time, those few moments felt like years as my chest started to open again and I could feel the air moving around inside.

  I took in a deep breath, and glanced at Mom and Matthew.

  "I'm good," I said.

  Mom nodded, her brow marred for a moment with those worry wrinkles, but they disappeared after I gave her the okay.

  Matthew, on the other hand, wasn't quite as relieved.

  He put his hand on my arm. "Are you okay? What can I get you?"

  "I'm fine, now. Thank you. Really."

  "I don't know about that. You have a seat. I'll take care of this." He glanced around, and pulled a chair across the patio. "This is downwind. You can sit there, and--"

  A switch had flipped in him, I could see it in his eyes. Not cold, exactly, but it made me think that suddenly I was the mission, and he would do whatever it took to make sure I was okay. Like he'd turned into a robot or something.

  A soldier.

  He'd shifted into Army mode.

  I'd seen Jake do it a couple of times--I thought it was just him, still sort of detoxing off being in the war zone.

  It must be a soldier thing...

  "Matthew, stop," I said, putting my hand on his arm, hoping the contact would snap him out of it.

  He shook his head as he pulled a bistro table over, and sat my discarded wine glass to the side. "I have to make sure you're okay."

  Putting my hand on his chin, I pulled his gaze back to me. "Look at me."

  For a second, I didn't think that he actually saw me, his expression so far away, but it only lasted a second. He blinked, and then he seemed right back in the moment, and he said my name. "Summer."

  "I'm okay," I said. "It happens. Too much hairspray all day, and the smoke? I am fine. I forget that it can be freaky for other people. But it's not that big of a deal."

  "It is more than that." From the look in his eyes, I was pretty sure this was much more than me just having an asthma attack in my own back yard.

  Though what it was, I couldn't imagine.

  Chapter Twelve

  "Oh my god, yes, that's amazing..." Summer moaned, her eyes closed and ecstasy all over her face.

  Matthew felt her words all the way to his groin, and he started to burn with--

  "Yep, you sure do know how to cook a steak, Matt my boy," Summer's sister Autumn said, killing the momentary lust Summer's moan had caused. He had ignored everyone while waiting for Summer's first bite, tuning out the silverware clattering on plates, and the overall conversational buzz at the table.

  He had to rein his thoughts in, before he said, or worse, did something completely inappropriate.

  This is her family.

  This is her family.

  Behave.

  His gaze cut toward the neon-red haired woman. "Thank you."

  Not that he planned to be so focused on Summer--he couldn't help being drawn to her, regardless of the chaos around him. The way she brushed that blonde bang out of her face, a simple tick of hers he'd noticed, kept him mesmerized. She didn't seem to realize she did it while she ate and talked with everyone at the table.

  Nor did he bet she realized how her moans over the steak made him glad his jeans were loose. "Were" being the appropriate words.

  Instead, she seemed oblivious to his ogling while the whole family talked at such a rapid pace, he wondered how they understood each other. Even little Emma was a part of the whirlwind conversation that the women carried on.

  Matthew just kept his head down and ate, except when he glanced at Summer devour her steak. He tried to tell himself he was keeping an eye, to make sure that she didn't have another asthma attack.

  It was foolish, even to him--like just his will could prevent her from having one. He felt like a dork. No one seemed the slightest bit concerned about her asthma.

  Of course, they all had lived together. They knew about that stuff.

  Asthma was a new one for him. Even little Emma didn't seem fazed by it.

  Since they all worked at the salon, the events, including the gossip, of the salon's business fired across the table so fast, he couldn't keep up anyway.

  So different from what he was used to. Men wer
e so much more vulgar--

  Burrrp!

  Matthew glanced to his left. The table was suddenly silent.

  "Emma! Say 'excuse me!'" Summer said.

  "Excuse me," Emma said, and she grinned at him, sort of wiggling in her chair.

  Matthew raised his eyebrow, pretty sure the little girl did it completely on purpose.

  She winked at him.

  He glanced at Summer, and smirked at her look of exasperation.

  "Well, that one was only a seven," Summer's mother said.

  "Mom, don't encourage her."

  "It's a natural body function, Summer. She would gain nothing holding in all that hot gas," her mother said.

  "In Europe, belching at the table is a compliment to the chef," Winter added.

  "So, really, that's for Matt, here," Autumn said.

  "Matthew," Summer countered.

  "It's fine," Matthew replied. Though he wasn't a fan of the shortened version of his name, he wasn't about to correct her--could be considered rude.

  He didn't want to be rude, this wasn't his place.

  Autumn grinned at her sister, but it wasn't a nice grin. It was more smug.

  He decided not to say anything--forces were at work here he didn't want to stick his toe in.

  Of course, he already had stuck his toe in, sitting here, having dinner. He'd debated whether he should come--after she'd run off last night, he didn't think she's still want to see him, even after she texted him today.

  It was obvious, from the family closeness that she was well taken care of. It had been Jake's worry, those last moments that she'd be in good hands.

  Matthew had promised to look in on her and make sure for Jake. He would never deny a dying man his last wish.

  At least now he could go back to his life, and know that he'd fulfilled his obligation.

  They were fine--surrounded by people who loved them. Summer didn't need anyone to take care of her.

  He could leave.

  Any time he wanted to.

  Yet he was here...

  He wanted her, and he knew he did, he'd always had latent feelings for her back in high school.

  But now, though, it just felt, well, wrong.

  If he was smart, he'd walk away. He made good on his promise. Jake would be content, wouldn't he? It's not like Bettes asked Hennessey to date Summer.

  "I don't think anyone at this table can say a word about names," Winter said, jarring him from his internal thoughts.

  This did make Matthew smirk. "It does raise a question," he said. All eyes turned to him. "What possessed you to name your daughters after seasons?"

  The room went silent.

  Matthew glanced from Mrs. Jones--her odd name of "Celestial Springs" was just too hard to actually say. It just sounded weird.

  "You like the weather," Emma said. "That's why you named them after the seasons."

  Mrs. Jones smirked. "Partially."

  "You don't have to answer, Mrs. Jones." He didn't realize he'd hit a special topic in the family.

  "No, it's not a secret. I was living on a commune, and my spirit name was Celestial Springs, because my birthday is on the spring equinox. One of the gurus there had a vision that I would have children of the seasons." She gestured to her daughters. "I did. Winter came first, born near the winter solstice that year. Then came Summer, born on the summer solstice. Then Autumn was born on the fall equinox."

  He raised his eyebrow. "Now that takes planning."

  She grinned. "On a commune you don't plan your fertility."

  He choked, not sure he wanted to know any more about the family. Or think about the woman across from him having sex--too close to thinking of his own mother having sex.

  "Mom, that's so gross." Autumn crossed her arms over her chest. The other two sisters echoed her words, groaning.

  Mrs. Jones laughed at them.

  This is when Matthew was pretty sure a subject change would be needed, but for the life of him, he wasn't sure what he should say or do to bring it around.

  "So Mister Maffew, are you going to be my new daddy?" Emma asked, blinking at him with her big green eyes.

  This was not what he wanted for a subject change. "Uh, well..."

  Summer swooped in to the rescue. "Now Emma, you and I talked about that. Mister Matthew is a friend, nothing more."

  "I know, but Rosey at school said that her mommy had a friend who was a boy, and then she married him, and he became her new daddy, and she didn't like him because he always smelled like dead fish. So I told her how I liked Mister Maffew, and I hoped that he could be my new daddy, because he smelled like my old daddy, and I liked that smell."

  "Well, sweetheart, we can't pick people by their smells," Summer said, her gaze darting to Matthew's. And if he wasn't mistaken, she looked like she was trying to hold back a laugh.

  "Fine," Emma pouted.

  Summer wasn't the only one trying not to laugh over the little girl's comment.

  "The world might be a better place if we did pick people by their smells," Autumn muttered.

  "It might make people a little more conscience about how they smell," Winter added.

  Summer glanced at Autumn. "Did you smell Mister Delacourt when he came in to pick up Miss Lorraine? Oh my God, I thought I might pass out. I don't think he'd had a bath in a week!"

  And off they went again, back to the salon gossip.

  Matthew leaned a little closer to Emma. "I think it's okay to like people by their smells. That's how dogs do it."

  "Really?" Emma asked, her eyes wide.

  "Yep."

  She pondered that for a little bit while eating a bite of rice, then she patted him on the arm. "I think I need a dog. We can go on smelling adventures."

  He smiled. "That would be fun."

  ~*~

  "Well, she's down," Summer said as she took a seat next to Matthew on the back patio. The sky was finally getting dark, and while Emma wanted to stay up, it was already nine, and she'd been yawning all through the card games they had been playing.

  So had Summer.

  "I probably should be going," Matthew said. He didn't really want to, but he didn't think he could hang around all night.

  Part of him just wanted to make sure Summer was okay from her asthma attack earlier. She hadn't wheezed once all evening, so he had no reason to worry. If he was honest with himself, though, he really only wanted to be around her more.

  He wasn't the best with being honest with himself.

  "You don't have to," Summer said. She had a fresh glass of wine. "Sit down, relax."

  He glanced toward the back door, expecting the rest of the family to come out and join them. It seemed that every chance they had alone together was soon flooded by her sisters. Her mother seemed to keep her distance, but her sisters, especially Autumn, seemed intent on butting into any private moment they had.

  Perhaps that wasn't a bad thing. Maybe he didn't need to be alone with her.

  Maybe they were just making sure that Summer was taken care of.

  She obviously didn't need him here, she had her whole life figured out.

  Still didn't stop his reluctance to leave.

  He looked around the backyard, taking in the patio, the little barbecue area in the corner, the seating area they were in now, and the large shed painted with bright swirls and peace signs. Or at least, it was once bright colors, weather had faded it.

  "What is the deal with that shed?" he asked.

  She grinned. "Me and my sisters decided to honor Mother's commune living for Mother's Day one year. So we snuck out here the night before, and painted it."

  "How come just on the front?"

  "We painted the whole thing. But the neighbors complained it was an eye sore, so Mom repainted the sides that faced out, but she left the front just the way we did it so we could always see it."

  "What did she think?"

  "Oh she was amazed. She thought it was wonderful."

  "Do you remember being on the commune? I assume
you lived there."

  "Until Mom had Autumn. I was five when we left."

  "Why did you leave?"

  She shrugged. "We needed a better house for the family. One with proper running water." She glanced at the sky, a big grin on her face. "I remember moving in here, and standing in the shower forever. It was like magic to have so much water pour out on me, and not have to worry about wasting it."

  "That's an odd thing for a kid to worry about, here."

  She blinked. "What do you mean, here?"

  "In the USA. To worry about wasting water like that. I would expect that in Iraq."

  She nodded. "You see a lot of that over there?"

  "More than I wanted. Things I hope I never see again." Images and sensations flashed--memories of the darkness he'd witnessed while he'd been in battle. Or on patrol. Or just walking. Even in the brilliant, burning sunshine, it felt dark there. He couldn't explain it--like a shadow of anger covered the land.

  He didn't ever want to see that again.

  "I hope you don't either," Summer said.

  He ran his hand over his head. "I shouldn't have to. I'm staying stateside now."

  "That's good. I won't have to worry about you being over there, and watching the news all the time again."

  "Why would you worry about me?" Matthew asked.

  She met his gaze. "Because I do that." She touched his hand.

  Their fingers slipped together, and she squeezed. The contact was soothing and the darkness that had been stirred up from memories started to fade.

  "You don't have to worry about me," Matthew said. "If anything, I should be the furthest thing from your mind."

  "Why is that?"

  "You have enough on your plate. I'm just passing through."

  "Doesn't mean I shouldn't care."

  "Two weeks ago, you hadn't given me a thought."

  "So? Maybe I've been busy."

  "Exactly my point." He needed to leave. He didn't want to fight with her. He stood. "You have enough without me stirring the pot."

  "What if I need you to stir the pot?" She stood as well.

  "What do you mean?" She didn't need him.

  She waved her arm, gesturing to the house. "I live with my mom and my sister, and up until you came around, I was fine with the status quo."

  "Exactly why I need to go--upsetting your world."