Perfect Summer (12 page)

“You sound surprised.” She spooned in her own mouthful.

“I kind of am. You look too pretty to have just slaved over a hot stove.” He laced his fingers through hers, brought her hand to his lips, and kissed each knuckle. “
These lovely hands that made food for me…
I don’t remember the rest.”

“A veterinarian poet—my father would have been proud. He fancied himself a poet…unfortunately for us, no one else did.”

“I’m getting the picture that you and your parents didn’t see eye to eye.” He took another warm, soothing swallow.

“That’s putting it mildly. I’m still convinced I was switched at birth. Don’t get me wrong. My parents loved each other and me, but we couldn’t have been more different.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve never told anyone this but…”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “They weren’t even married. I’m illegitimate.”

She whispered the last word and wouldn’t look him in the eye. Her parent’s non-marriage really bothered her.

“How’s that for great parenting?” she continued. “They met at a concert and gorged on sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I’m pretty sure that’s where they conceived me.” She took another spoonful.

It was a good sign that Lilly was opening up about herself, and damn, she could cook. She never failed to surprise him—just when he’d thought he’d figured her out, she went and did something out of character.

“How about your daughter?” How was that for subtle? Slip it in while her mouth was full. “Who’s staying with her while you’re here?”

Lilly swallowed and looked confused. “What?”

“She must be young. Who’s staying with her?” He’d always wondered.

She probably had a nanny. Not that he didn’t believe in Lilly’s right to have her own life, but he did take exception with having someone else raise his children. Not that he had any.

“Summer is twenty-eight. She stopped needing a baby-sitter a long time ago.” Lilly sighed long and hard. “She hates me…and I don’t blame her.”

Lilly opened her mouth like she wanted to say something else and then closed it again.

He wanted to know everything about her. “Go ahead. What were you going to say?”

She stared at him for a few beats. “I’m the worst version of myself around her. I open my mouth, and terrible things come out. I don’t know how to stop.”

“Why do you do it?” Motivation was always the key. Get to the root of why, and know the person.

“I…” She sat back against the wrought iron headboard. “I don’t know. I mean, I know why I started, but I have no idea…now.” Her voice was thin and sad.

“What were your reasons before?” As long as she was inclined, he was going to pepper her with questions.

“While my parents and I didn’t understand each other, I did love them. But I hated the mortification of going anywhere with them or the fact that they never remembered to pay the electric bill...” She smoothed her hair down. “My father was insulin-dependent diabetic, yet my mother made him dessert every day. He ended up in dialysis. Five days a week, I drove him to the doctor.” She laughed sadly. “He was at the doctor so often my daughter thought he had a job.”

She shook her head. “I watched him go from a fantastic father who was never too tired for board games or hide-and-seek, to a thin, weak, shell of himself. He died at the age of fifty. I wanted Summer to be healthy, so I put her on a diet, and things got out of hand.”

“I’m sure she knows you did it for her own good.”

“No, I don’t think she does.” Lilly looked at him with hard eyes.

He’d expected tears or regret but not hatred.

“My husband liked women…lots of them. I took out my frustration with him on her. I was mean…unyielding…and harsh. I deserve her hatred—”

“No, you don’t.” Slowly, he lifted his arm and put it around her shoulders.

“Yes, I do.” She concentrated on stirring her dinner. “I tried to buy her a husband.”

Of all the things that she might have said, that hadn’t occurred to him.

“Why?” He was sticking with the need to know the motivation.

Lilly’s shoulders rounded, and she huddled into herself. “I wanted her to be happy…like my parents.” Her voice was low and sad. “Summer was a late bloomer. She didn’t date much…well, ever. She has self-image issues, and I’m pretty sure that I’m to blame. I wanted to fix it, so I…picked out a man who I thought was perfect for her. Turns out, I was wrong. He’s a jerk. When Summer told me about what was going on, I handled it badly. She hates me, and I don’t blame her. I can’t believe I did it.”

Davis hugged her to him even though it cost him searing pain. Seeing Lilly less than confident was a new one.

Lilly pulled back. “Slow down, horse-kicked boy. Those ribs must be killing you.” She reached under her and pulled out the velvet ring box. “What’s this?”

“Nothing.” Davis snatched it up and shoved it under his pillow. “It’s nothing.” She wasn’t ready for him to pop the question, and he wasn’t prepared for rejection. “About the broken ribs. When the EMTs came, you said that you thought I had broken ribs and that one could puncture a lung. How did you know that?”

“I was premed before I dropped out of Baylor to get married.” She shrugged. “I had a scholarship.”

“Baylor?”

“Rebellion comes in many forms.” Lilly stirred her soup. “I came to Austin to see my parents. I met Franklin when my car broke down in front of the Ames Building. He was coming out, I was wearing short shorts…it was lust at first sight. We dated for a while. He’d come to Baylor to see me. I knew he was rich, so I got pregnant on purpose. We had to get married. I wanted security, and he wanted to not be disinherited…it was a match made in hell. I traded my body so I’d never have to wonder how I was going to pay the water bill or keep the roof above my parents’ heads.”

“That was very responsible.” He’d muddle over the details later. Who was he to judge? He’d done a thing or two he wasn’t proud of—hers was just on a grander scale.

“No, it was very calculated. That’s the person I am. Cold, calculated, and heartless.” She shook her head. “Why do you refuse to see it?”

He caressed her knee. “I’m in love with you.” Maybe if he told her enough times, she’d believe him.

“I know you think you are, but the more you get to know me, I’m sure you’ll change your mind.” Lilly avoided his eyes.

She wasn’t kidding, he realized. She really believed that she wasn’t worthy of love. It hit him like a ton of bricks. The problem wasn’t whether she loved him, the problem was her not loving herself. She would never be able to accept his love until she loved herself.

Jesus, he was turning into Dr. Phil.

“Every detail you share with me about your life only makes me love you more.” He traced the line of her jaw. “I will love you forever, and there is nothing you can do that will make me change my mind. I may not always like the things you do, but I won’t ever stop loving you. I’ve waited a long time to fall in love, and sorry, darlin’, it’s you.” His voice was clear and level. He wasn’t kidding, and he wanted her to know it.

“Good God, you’re annoying.”

***

The man was insane. Lilly loaded the last dish in the dishwasher. He’d told her he loved her countless times, but she’d hoped he’d grow out of it like an allergy to cats. She snorted and shook her head. He was nuts…delusional…cute as hell.

She tossed in a dishwashing tab, closed the door, pushed the start button, and slumped against the counter. What was she going to do? He loved her. She rolled her eyes.

He was injured, so she couldn’t up and leave him. If she were being honest with herself, she really didn’t want to. While she wasn’t capable of deep emotion, she felt something…more than lust…less than love, she assured herself. It was…something.

Her stomach rumbled. How could she still be hungry? She’d just eaten. It rumbled again. Ice cream. She wanted chocolate ice cream and lots of it. It was the kind of craving that promised nausea if not satisfied soon. She opened the freezer and rummaged around. A half gallon of Blue Bell’s Chocolate Decadence called to her like a BOGO shoe sale at Nordstrom’s. Before she could stop herself, she’d snagged it and a couple of spoons. What was with her? Not since she was pregnant with Summer had she allowed herself ice cream. Must be the menopausal hormones—or lack there of—making her so hungry and fat. Pretty soon they’d have to knock down a wall and use a forklift to get her out of bed. Maybe then, Davis would come to his senses.

***

Davis was going on the offensive. He wasn’t much for football, but he knew chess. Being a novice player, he’d learned to think two moves ahead.

Lilly loved him but wouldn’t admit it. He looked around like the answer would jump out and dance around, and then his eyes landed on the nightstand drawer where the engagement ring lay. He’d force her hand. She was scrappy—he’d seen that after his accident. Back her into a corner and she’d come out fighting. So she needed a reason to fight for him, well, he’d give her one. In the chessboard of life, he was about to advance on the queen. Coming at her sideways meant she’d never know what hit her.

A grin the size of Texas worked across his face. Pat Benetar was right, love is a Battlefield, and Lilly was about to find herself taking up arms and fighting for him.

***

On Friday morning, Clint opened the door of Travis High for Jade Harold, Chief Commentator for ESPN’s Sports Nation. After Jade had blown out a knee in the WNBA, her do-whatever-it-takes attitude had made her perfect for a national network. Winning was everything to her—that he could understand.

Jade touched his arm. “Thanks for giving me this exclusive. Footage of you one-on-one in the classroom is going to boost ratings.” She leaned into him and whispered next to his ear. “I’d love to pay you back with dinner…and breakfast.”

Clint glanced around. The cameraman was busy with the camera, and the sound guy was talking to a production assistant. Jade would be discreet—it wasn’t in her best interest to have her personal life all over the news. She knew the truth about his ex-girlfriend.

Clint stared at her dark, glossy hair and let his eyes wander down her slim body. A night of nothing but sex, no strings attached, was tempting. Jade was attractive in a Jessica Alba sort of way, all lean muscle. No curves or softness. In fact, now that he thought about it, her body was shaped just like his—well, if he switched out the girl parts for boy parts. His stomach lurched. Now, Summer was soft and curvy, and that mouth…holy God, what he wanted to do to that mouth.

“Rain check?” Clint winked. Never burn bridges, especially ones with network connections.

She winked back. “Count on it.”

Jade turned around and shot Clint an eye roll. “Lisa, my lips are dry. And where’s my soy mochaccino?” Jade’s tone turned impatient. “She’s the fifth production assistant I’ve had this year.”

The short, mousy brunette with large front teeth who’d been talking with the sound guy ran to Jade. “Sorry, Ms. Harold, here you go.”

She handed Jade a Starbucks cup and a tube of lipstick.

Clint touched the note cards in his suit pocket. He’d been up since five this morning going over his speech, “The Business of Football.” He and Bunny had spent most of yesterday on the phone nailing down the finer points. It was funny yet informative. His palms began to sweat. What if no one asked questions or laughed at his jokes? He’d bomb on TV, and not even a hundred Super Bowl wins would save him.

“This is cold. Get me another one.” Jade shoved the cup at her mousy assistant who scurried out the door and down the front steps.

They walked into the main office and up to the empty front desk and signed in. Clint leaned over the front desk and craned his neck from side to side. “Hello.”

Where was everyone?

The gray-haired school secretary popped her head out from a doorway at the end of the hall. “Go ahead, Mr. Grayson. Vice Principal Evans told us to expect you. Name badges aren’t necessary today.”

She disappeared back into the office.

“It’s just out this door, down the walkway, and in the other building.” Clint led the way.

Something wasn’t right. The halls were a ghost town. Where was everyone? The teachers’ parking lot had been full, so this had to be a school day.

He checked his watch. Ten thirty. Was there some sort of assembly?

“Is the teacher really as sassy as she appeared the other day?” Jade was back to being nice.

Bipolar much?

Clint opened the annex door for her. “Yes. She’s great. Her students love her.”

“Let’s just hope she’s dressed better. My viewers expect a certain level of professionalism.” She stepped through the door.

He was beginning to see that Jade was a bitch. In the seven years he’d known her, he’d never noticed.

“Ms. Ames is very professional,” he said tightly. Surely Vice Principal Evans had told Summer the camera crew was coming. Today was Friday, not their appointed Monday, but Jade was only in town for the weekend to cover the Texas Relay games. After she’d called him last night and arranged the interview, Clint hadn’t been able to get a hold of Summer. He’d left her four messages and would have driven over to her house but he couldn’t find her address. Because he hadn’t been able to contact her, he’d called Jade back to cancel the interview, but she’d claimed that the world needed an update on the sassy teacher and the quarterback. He hadn’t been able to say no.

“Here we are.” Clint knocked on the classroom door.

Except for a vacuum humming off in the distance, the hall was stone-dead quiet. Maybe the students were taking some sort of standardized test in the cafeteria? Clint rolled his shoulders trying to let go of the tension. No kids in the classroom would suck and make him look like a fool. He glanced down the empty hallway. It was way too optimistic to hope the entire school was observing a day of silence. Either the students were assembled somewhere else or they weren’t here.

It was not looking good.

Clint knocked again. The door opened, and there stood Summer, frizzy hair in a ponytail. Today’s tee shirt read,
Auntie Em: Hate you, hate Kansas, taking the dog. Dorothy
.