Holiday in Danger (25 page)

Her best friend smiled. “Thanks.” She took a sip and gave Summer a nudge with her elbow. “You seem down. Anything you want to talk about?”

Summer’s gaze flitted away from her mother. “No. It’s your party. Don’t worry about me.”

“Pfft. It’s just the rehearsal. You’re my best friend. Spill.”

Summer took another sip of her drink. The champagne bubbled on her tongue and loosened her lips. “I kissed Blake.”

“What!?!” It came out in a muffled shriek and half the room turned toward Mandy and Summer.

“Shh! I don’t need the whole town to know I picked up right where I left off.” She smiled blandly and politely at the onlookers until everyone turned back around. “It was a moment of weakness. I never should have talked to him.”

“Wow. Good for you.”

Summer dropped her head and covered her eyes with her hand. “I’m so predictable.”

“Stop it. That is beyond ridiculous.” Mandy tugged Summer’s hand away and waited until she glanced up. Her eyes sparkled. “How was it? Like you remember?”

Summer’s cheeks heated. “Better.”

Mandy grinned and waggled her blonde eyebrows. “What about Devin?”

“I haven’t really talked to him yet.”

“You mean apart from when you ogled his sexy, half-naked body in the dressing room.”

Summer rolled her eyes. Her best friend was incorrigible.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Ignore it, probably.”

“You will not.” Mandy smacked her on the arm and the remnants of the cocktail sloshed.

“Hey! What’s that for?”

“For four years I’ve watched you try to ignore the pair of them. Don’t you think it’s time to give them another chance?”

Summer frowned. When she’d first left Midnight Cove, she’d been upset. At herself. At both men. She’d even pushed Mandy away. But her best friend had pushed back. She’d shown up at college ready to snap Summer out of it—dragging her to shows and shopping. She’d pulled her out of her funk one painted nail at a time.

She glanced up at Devin as he chatted with Richard across the room. Maybe she had whined a bit over the years about him and Blake and how no man measured up. But it wasn’t like she’d pined after them. She’d gone out on plenty of dates and didn’t own a single cat.

“I live all the way across the country, Mandy. Even if we went down that road again, it’d be just like before. I’d leave and it’d be over.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. You could stay.”

What?
Mandy picked up another hors d’oeuvre as Summer looked around the room. Oversized windows captured the setting sun over the ocean and little candles were casting a small glow on each sill. The grassy expanse in front of the Inn was lit up with carriage lights and all the flowers and trees and lushness of nature twisted Summer’s insides.

Midnight Cove was like walking into a Thomas Kincaid. Too beautiful. Too real. She’d been painting it ever since that summer. Slashes across the canvas of ocean water. Splashes of green and ochre for the trees. Even her abstracts were reminiscent. All derivative of this place and the wildness and the emotion it dredged up from deep inside her.

Could she stay? Could she make a life here despite her mother and New York and the endless quest for…something?

The door opened and she turned in time to see Ivy McClellan walk in.
Ugh.
She washed down the horrible taste with another sip. “What’s Ivy doing here?”

Mandy rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’ll never believe it.”

Summer opened her mouth to ask when Mandy’s brother Ian walked in. He slipped his arm around Ivy and the pair headed to the bar.
Oh my God.
“Is that what it looks like?”

“Mm-hmm. She’s gotten her claws into my brother. Damn barracuda.”

“Oh, no. Mandy, that’s awful.” Summer remembered how Ivy would fawn over the rich guys at the bar with one hand on their Rolex as she shoved her fake boobs against their arm and asked for a drink. Always searching for the next meal ticket. “Has anyone told him what she’s like?”

Mandy nodded. “Everyone’s told him. But he’s smitten. I swear she’s got a magic vagina.”

Summer choked on a sip of champagne. Midnight Cove might be beautiful and stunning and the source of endless art. But with her mother there and people like Ivy all over… How could she ever want to stay?

* * *

BLAKE

“You’re sure we have to be here? Isn’t being in the wedding enough?” Devin pushed his shirt sleeves higher up his arms before snagging another drink off a tray. “I’m not into champagne and girly snacks.”

Blake rolled his eyes. “Of course we have to be here. It’s Richard and Mandy’s wedding.”

“No, it’s Mandy’s wedding. Richard’s just showing up.”

“You have a point.” Blake couldn’t get over the conversation they’d had with Richard. If he had a woman like Mandy—no, if he and Devin could find a way to be with Summer—even marry her somehow—he’d be tripping all over himself to give her anything she wanted.

Princess wedding at a fairy castle? Sure. One hundred bagpipers and the Rockettes? Of course. Getting married in your hometown at your own Inn with friends and family all around? No brainer. “I don’t get him. Why’s he so freaked out?”

Devin shrugged. “You know Richard. He can’t stand not being in control. You remember when he handed the Swallow Tail over to Donny? I thought the man would have a heart attack.”

Did he ever. Devin and Blake had picked up jobs at the restaurant when they were barely old enough to wait tables with a whole summer vacation to do nothing but work. Richard had ridden their asses hard. A few months of that and they could have waited tables at the best spots anywhere in the country.

It’d been their thing. Summers at Swallow Tail between high school and college. Working to earn enough to buy a new board or a wetsuit. Anything to get them out in the waves, riding ’til sunset. Beyond.

“This isn’t like it’s a restaurant. It’s his wedding. You think he’d at least try.”

“He is. Look at him.” Devin pointed at Richard chatting up the guests. Donny stood next him—the spitting image of his older brother.

“Sounds like Donny’s handling the restaurants well.”

“He must be. Otherwise, Richard would never expand like he is without Ian as a partner. And he definitely wouldn’t spring for all this.”

Blake glanced around at the tables teeming with food and all the guests. Behind him, Summer and Mandy leaned toward each other, laughing.

Summer
. He still remembered that first night. She’d walked into the Swallow Tail, twenty-one and gorgeous with chestnut hair cascading down her back and a body any man would worship all night.

At first he’d hinted at a date, but she’d shot him down. Devin, too. So they’d fallen into friendship. Goofing off on the beach after closing. Sneaking into the lifeguard stations and swimming under the moonlight. Climbing over rocks and dune grasses like kids.

One night it had all poured over into more. He’d hoped the heat and fire she stirred in him would fade. After she’d said goodbye and cut them off, what was the point? But he couldn’t shake her.

Blake ran his tongue over his lip, hoping to catch a taste of her on his skin.
Summer
.

“Who let the riffraff in?”

Blake blinked and turned around. “Ian! How are you?”

Ian stuck out his hand and grasped Blake by the forearm to lean in for a quick hug. “Good, man.”

“I thought you were stuck in the middle of some deal?”

Ian shrugged. “What can I say, I had a reason to finish early.” Ian squeezed his date by the waist and Blake swallowed. He never understood what anyone saw in her.

Blake gave her an obligatory smile. “Hey, Ivy.”

“Hi, Blake.”

“Ivy tells me you guys are having some trouble with the permit for the bar? She’s been showing me all sorts of ideas. She’s got this open concept—tons of space to mingle and network—I think you guys’ll love it.”

Devin stiffened next to him. “I thought we were all going to approve any concepts before we broke ground?”

“Totally.” Ian squeezed Ivy again. “My girl’s just so excited. This bar’s her first big design gig.”

Blake frowned. When Devin’d suggested turning the space above the surf shop into a bar, he’d been hesitant. Run a surf shop and a bar? The shop already took most of his time. And where would they ever come up with the capital?

Bringing in Ian as a partner had seemed like the perfect solution. But Ivy, too? If he’d known Ian would hand the whole thing off to her as a pet project, he’d have squashed it months ago. “I still think we should all meet. Discuss options before anyone gets carried away.”

“Relax, guys. I promise it’s not all pink frills and taffeta. You’ll like it.” Ivy grinned and clutched Ian’s arm. Her boobs mashed against his shirt sleeve and Blake looked away.

Devin spoke up. “We still need to come to an agreement on everything, Ivy. It’s our space, remember.”

She batted her lashes. “Of course.”

Gag me
. With bleached blonde hair, pencil-thin figure and personality to match, Blake never understood how Ivy did it. It seemed like every party in the Cove, she’d show up with another guy on her arm. Each one richer than the last and falling all over himself to show her off. She didn’t seem like much of a prize to Blake.

Or to Devin. Not now anyway. His friend held up his beer. “Just making sure we’re on the same page.”

“Well, I’ve got to make the rounds. As soon as you hear on the permit, let me know okay? Ivy can’t wait to get started.”

Blake watched them walk off and exhaled in relief. Compared to Summer, Ivy was nothing but a bottom-feeder. One he wished didn’t come attached to Ian Knowles.

He turned back to where Summer’d been standing with Mandy, but she was gone. He scanned the room when the swish of green silk caught his eye.
Shit
.

From her hunched back and crossed arms, he could tell it wasn’t good. Her mother had cornered her. Overbearing wench. He knew she’d been controlling, but until Summer’d opened up earlier that night, he never knew the intensity.

Now he could see the strain. The wear. Blake tapped Devin on the arm. “I think Summer needs help. Come on.”

She might try to blow them off again, but neither one of them would get anywhere if her mother poisoned the weekend.

* * *

SUMMER

“Mom, I’ve told you. The Hillside Gallery isn’t interested. I know you spoke with the owner, but they don’t care.” Summer inhaled and forced her voice to stay even. Causing a scene would only make it worse.

“Did you mention my name? I’ve been on the same committee as Rosalind Hillside for the past three years.” She smoothed back an imaginary misplaced hair. “The Kidney Foundation even asked me to chair it this year.”

Don’t roll your eyes.
“That’s great, Mom, really. And I did mention your name.” Summer shifted her weight back on forth on her heels. “It isn’t a good fit, anyway. They only showcase modern expressionists. That’s not my style.”

Her mother’s frown would have wilted Mandy’s corsage. “Well. You can’t blame me for trying to help you. You’ll never get anywhere at the rate you’re going.”

“That’s not true! I’ve got an exhibit at Palladium next week.”

“That’s a mid-tier gallery full of, what do they call them—” Her mother waved her hand in the air. “Hipsters. It’s beneath you.”

Summer’s shoulders sagged. She might as well have been four-foot-tall with pigtails and a runny nose. She glanced down and scuffed a spot on the floor with her toe. “It’s still an exhibit. I know it’s not what you want, but—”

“I think what she’s achieved to date’s remarkable.”

“So do I.”

Summer glanced up and her stomach lurched.
Oh, no. This can’t be happening.
She plastered on a smile. “Devin. Blake. Hi. Have you met my mother?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure, no.” Blake stuck out his hand. “Blake Turner.”

Summer’s mother glanced at it like it might be diseased, but she gave it a limp shake. “Jane Crenshaw.” Blake let her hand go and she turned to Devin.

“Devin Rogers. Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

She gave Devin a tight smile and shook his hand. “Thank you.”

All four of them stood there, awkward and uncomfortable and smiling for no reason.
God, why is she even here?
At last her mother spoke up.

“Well, Summer dear, I still think you should try again. Give Hillside another call. Ask for Rosalind.”

Summer couldn’t help but sigh. “Alright, Mom. If it’ll make you happy, I will. First thing Tuesday morning when I’m back in New York.”

Devin cleared his throat.
Oh, no. Don’t—

Before Summer could get his attention, he’d opened his mouth. “If you don’t mind my asking, Ms. Crenshaw, why are you so hung up on galleries in New York?”

Her mother’s lips puckered like she’d swallowed a lemon. “Excuse me?”

“Well, Summer paints West Coast landscapes and abstracts. She’d find a ton of buyers on this coast. Plenty right here in Midnight Cove.”

The indignation hit Summer in a wave as her mother straightened up. How a woman so small could look down on a six-foot-tall man was beyond Summer. But she managed. Her mother did have super powers.

“The Crenshaws are better than a small town gallery in a tourist trap. She could have been a doctor. A politician. Even a lawyer. Instead, she
paints
. The least she can do is excel at it.” The way the words spit from her mother’s mouth hit Summer straight in the gut. A punch would’ve hurt less.

Devin’s voice dropped and lost its mirth. “What about being happy? Can’t she excel in that, instead?”

Her mother’s eyes widened and she opened and closed her mouth like a puppet on strings. Devin might as well have asked her if the moon were made of cheese.

After a moment, her mother turned to her. “Well. Hasn’t this been nice? If you’ll excuse me, dear, I need to pay my respects to the groom.”

Summer nodded and watched her mother walk away. Back straight, head high. She greeted Richard with a gracious smile and Summer turned away. No matter how hard she tried, she’d always be a disappointment.

“She acts like this is a funeral, not a wedding.” Devin shook his head.