Holiday in Danger (36 page)

All she could think about was her own future. Her life in New York. What she’d found back in Midnight Cove. She didn’t want to go back to the city. To her empty, cold apartment with her soulless art and nasty neighbors. Back where she was living for everyone but herself.

The minister’s voice rang out and Summer jumped. “You may now kiss the bride!”

Richard leaned in and Mandy rose up on her tiptoes and it was over. The ceremony had whooshed by in a sea of tumbled thoughts and dreams and Summer was smiling as flash bulbs went off. Mandy grabbed her bouquet and before she knew it, Summer’d hooked her arms back in Blake and Devin’s and was walking out.

Past Ian and Ivy. Past her mother. On out into the reception hall. The band struck up a happy song, the servers appeared with trays of champagne and Summer couldn’t wait to celebrate. Forget her mother. New York. Everything but what she’d found right there in Midnight Cove.

She squeezed Devin’s arm and smiled. “That was great, didn’t you think?”

“Yeah, if you like that sort of thing.”

“Oh, come on. I saw that smile on your face. Admit it. You like weddings.”

He leaned close. “I like staring at beautiful women in bridesmaid’s gowns, does that count?”

Summer let go of both men and spun around. “I guess it’ll have to. Now.” She clapped her hands together and glanced at both men. “How about you score us some champagne while I help Mandy get set up for photos? I want to do this party right.”

Blake opened his mouth to speak, but Devin cut in. “Of course. That’s what dates are for, right?” He stepped up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist as he nuzzled her ear. “I’ve heard bridesmaids are a sure thing.”

Summer blushed. “Then I guess you’ll just have to take one home and find out.”

“Can’t wait.”

Summer pulled away from Devin and glanced up at Blake. He smiled at her, but she swore just before he’d been scowling—at Devin.

SUMMER

T
HE
OVERSIZED
BALL
of calla lilies and delphinium sailed through the air and Summer reached out. A sea of eligible bachelorettes crowded around her and—
plop!
The bouquet landed smack in her arms.

No way!
She held it up like a trophy as Mandy spun around. Her best friend squealed and ran over.

“I can’t believe it! You caught it. You know what that means!” Mandy nudged her and Summer blushed.

According to the old wives’ tale, she’d be the next woman married. She glanced up at Blake and Devin. They stood at the bar, chatting with Ian and sipping beers. Tux jackets off, sleeves rolled up.
Mmm
. She loved that look.

Just as she was about to slip into a very naughty daydream, Mandy squeezed her arm. “I’ve got to make the rounds, but you’re gonna dance with us, right? I’ve got the band all set to play some doozies later.”

Summer turned to her best friend. “Don’t tell me.”

Mandy beamed.

Oh no.
“Just so long as it’s not that one you made me do last time in New York. I am not sticking my ass out and shimmying with my mother watching.”

Mandy pouted. “You’re my maid of honor. Aren’t you supposed to embarrass yourself for me?”

Summer raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, come on. I’m just giving you a hard time. With my mom here? She thinks the hokey pokey’s risqué. All that shake it all about—totally indecent.”

Summer laughed and Mandy headed across the ballroom to her new husband. He grabbed her around the waist and twirled her around with a massive grin on his face. So sweet. Romantic.

Maybe someday
. She turned toward the head table to drop off the bouquet when she heard her name.
What?

 
Summer slowed down to listen.

“…shows back up and look what happens. Hogging the spotlight.”

She frowned and leaned into the bouquet, sniffing each flower as she listened. The conversation was hushed, but she couldn’t miss the source—a small group of women who’d been elbowing her for the bouquet. All four of them coifed and primped and thinner than a toothpick. Wearing cocktail dresses meant to show off all their assets.

They clustered at the edge of the dance floor, heads bent together, eyes occasionally darting up to zero in on her.

Summer pretended not to notice. The flowers were fascinating.

“You know what I heard? She’s shacked back up with the surf boys. Both of them!”

“No way!”

“Uh-huh. I overheard it at the spa. It has to be true.”

Summer rolled her eyes. She had half a mind to march up to them and tell the lot of them just what she thought. But it was Mandy’s wedding. For all she knew those women might be her closest friends in town.

Let it go, Summer. Just let it go.

“I don’t know what they see in her. With a butt like that? Did you see her arms when she reached for the bouquet? Talk about jiggle.”

The gaggle collectively tsk’ed and Summer had heard enough. She didn’t need their negative energy.

She brushed past them, head held high, bouquet front and center.
Eat it up, girls.
She set the flowers on her seat and reached for her clutch when a hand slid around her waist.

“So you caught the bouquet. Does that mean we’re in trouble?”

Summer smiled as Devin pulled her close. “Depends. Are you the marrying sort?”

“Maybe. But you know what I definitely am? The dancing sort. Come. Dance with me.”

He took her hand and before she could argue, Devin pulled her out onto the floor. The band had launched into a slow number and Mandy and Richard and a sea of other couples were spinning around each other. She wrapped her arms around Devin’s neck and let him take the lead.

“Has coming back to Midnight Cove been worth it?”

The question startled her and she stumbled a step. “What?”

“You heard me. Are you happy you came back?”

She smiled. “I am.”

“Happy you walked in on us in the dressing room?”

She bit her lip and glanced down at Devin’s orchid boutonnière. “Yes.”

“Still up for coming home with us tonight?”

“You know—”

“Mind if I cut in?” Blake slid up to Summer’s side and held out his hand.
Oh, my.
It never failed to surprise her. Two men vying for her attention.

She let Devin go with a smirk. “Guess you’ll just have to wait to find out, won’t you?”

“I don’t know if I’ll survive, Ms. Crenshaw.” He clutched at his heart in mock despair and Summer bit back a laugh as Blake spun her around.

“Then I guess I’ll have to pick up your slack.” Blake grinned at Devin and twirled Summer again and they were lost in the dancers.

The pair of them. Always in competition, but still friends. Willing to share her and everything that meant. She’d never get used to it, but that suited her fine.

She glanced up at Blake and ran her tongue over her lips. “Are you happy I came back?”

He never even paused. “Yes. More than you’ll ever know.”

“Me too.” She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Ending up back in their arms. Dancing at her best friend’s wedding. Perfect.

The song ended and as Blake paused, the band cranked up the bass.
Oh, no. It can’t be.

Mandy whooped from the other side of the reception hall and Summer braced herself. “Be ready.”

“What?” Blake looked confused.

“If you don’t want to do the electric slide, I’d run. Quick.”

Mandy bounded up and grabbed Summer by the hand. “Come on. You’re in the front row with me! You too, Blake!”

He held up his hands. “That’s alright. I’ve, uh, got to find Devin.”

“Suit yourself!” Mandy tugged Summer to the front of the dance floor and before she could blink, they were sliding and clapping and slapping their feet. With every step, more and more guests filled in, until at last, the whole dance floor was packed. Leave it to Mandy to get the party started.

Summer scanned the crowd, looking for Blake or Devin, but she came up empty.
Oh, well.
They could sit this one out.

* * *

BLAKE

Blake leaned on the rail and sipped his scotch. Standing up at the altar with Summer right across from him and Devin to his left—it wasn’t easy. Listening to the minister remind everyone that relationships were based on honesty and self-sacrifice? Worse. But dancing with Summer at a wedding, surrounded by the who’s who list of Midnight Cove? Torture.

He’d been an imposter through it all. Pretending nothing was on his mind. Dancing through a make-believe world Devin seemed more than comfortable to live in. He wanted Summer to move back—to stay. But she needed to know the truth.

“Weddings aren’t your cup of tea?”

Shit
. Blake turned and forced a smile on his face. “Ms. Crenshaw, hello.”

He held out his hand toward Summer’s mother, but she merely looked at it and snorted. After a beat, he pulled it away.
Guess that answers one question.
“Summer tells me you bought a condo here. Overlooking the lighthouse.”

“Yes. I’m planning to use it as an investment property. A vacation rental.”

Blake nodded.
Could this get any more awkward?
“Well, if you’ll excuse me—”

“I’d like to talk you a moment.”

Apparently, yes, it could.
Blake pressed his lips together. “About what?”

“You know perfectly well what. My daughter. You need to break it off with her. Stop this silly game you and that partner of yours are playing. Let her go home.”

Blake snorted. “You mean back to New York?”

“Yes.”

“She hates it there.”

Jane straightened up. “She does not.”

Blake shrugged. “That’s what she told me. And you know what? I don’t blame her. She doesn’t fit in with the art crowd there. She doesn’t even have any friends. She’s lonely. What kind of a life is that?”

“Better than one where she’s screwing around with two men who have no intention of settling down.” She clapped her manicured hands in front of her and her red lips thinned into a line.

“You’ve got the wrong idea.”

“Oh, have I?” Summer’s mother reached for the handrail and took a deep breath. The gray pearls around her neck reflected the lights from inside and lit her face in a ghastly glow. “It seems to me you’re hell bent on causing a scene. Disgracing my daughter any chance you get.”

Blake’s nostrils flared.
How dare she.
“You’re wrong. I’d never hurt Summer.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know a hell of a lot more than you.” Blake ran his hand back and forth over his hair until the short strands pricked his palm. “I’d never shove my daughter into a cold apartment in New York. Force her to paint in a style she hates. Demand she get in with galleries I’ve selected. I’d let her make her own choices. Live her own life.”

“Summer is living her own life.”

“No, she’s living the one you’ve laid out for her.”

“And what you’re offering is somehow better? A chance to get her heart broken all over again?”

Blake bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to reach out and strangle her. Take those fancy pearls and rip them until they scattered all over the floor. Instead, he gave her a tight smile. “I would never do that.”

Ms. Crenshaw scoffed. “Right. And all the rumors about the two of you, those are what? Made up?”

“Summer left. Walked out on us. If she hadn’t, we’d never have—there’d never—”
Oh, fuck it.
She wanted to know why he wasn’t leaving her daughter alone? Why he wouldn’t just walk away because she asked him to? Fine. Let her choke on it.

He turned to her and waited until she met his stare. “I love her, Ms. Crenshaw. I’m hopelessly, stupidly, and irrevocably in love with your daughter.”

She didn’t even flinch. “Then do what’s best for her and break it off. Otherwise, she’s going to end up hurt. You think any gallery will take her when they find out what she’s up to? Cavorting with two men? It’s scandalous!”

Blake shook his head. He’d never get anywhere with the woman at this rate. He drained the rest of his scotch and gave her a nod. “Sorry to hear you think so, Ms. Crenshaw. But I’m not walking away from Summer. Not when I’ve just gotten her back.”

He turned on his heel and stormed off the balcony and back into the reception.
Damn it.
If Summer’s mom had heard stories about them, he needed to find her. People were probably gossiping all over the damn ballroom. If he didn’t find her soon and tell her everything…It would all blow up in his face.

* * *

SUMMER

Summer assessed her reflection in the mirror. She’d consumed her fair share of champagne, strawberries with dollops of crème fraîche, button mushrooms stuffed with something out of this world and then shimmied and twirled until she could burst.

It’d taken all her self-control to walk to the bathroom instead of bust into a sprint. Thank God it’d been empty.

She washed her hands and pulled out her lipstick. A quick reapply, some mascara clean-up, and she’d be good to go. Ready to party until the sun came up.