Perfect Summer (16 page)

Clint held open the front door of the Travis County Courthouse, and she stepped inside.

“I don’t understand.” Clint rested his hand in the small of her back and led her to the front desk.

The hand thing was just his way of being polite. The illusion of a strong man to lean on was nice.

“I need you to charm our way into seeing Mario. Pull out all the stops, promise whatever you have to, and I’ll find a way to pay you back.” She hated to ask him for anything, but this was an emergency. “Mario has a history of taking things that aren’t his. He’s been arrested before…. This is his second strike. But he only steals when his sisters don’t have anything to eat, so he’s not a bad kid.”

They stepped in front of the long, granite counter and waited for one of the seven people in the office beyond to notice them.

“First, you don’t owe me a thing.” He spoke next to her ear. “It’s my pleasure. Second, I like Mario. He’s good people.”

His breath tickled her ear, and his lemony scent filled her nose. The roller coaster of tension raging in her stomach came to a halt. “You smell so good. Mind if I send the twins a thank-you note?”

“How, exactly, would you word it?” He straightened.

“Come back, I need another hit.” Summer liked the distraction.

He placed his neck an inch from her nose.

Summer pulled in a deep, glorious, lemony breath. “Mmmm.”

“Usually women make that noise
after
I kiss them.”

“Trust me, they’re just using your lips to get to your soap.” Summer took another deep breath. “Okay, I’m done.”

Clint turned his head so their mouths were only two inches apart. His hand at her back pressed her into to him. His eyes fastened onto her lips, and his mouth moved a fraction of an inch closer.

“What?” Summer leaned back and swiped a hand over her mouth. “Do I have chocolate chip cookie on my face?”

Clint’s brow scrunched up as he studied her like a puzzle he couldn’t figure out, and then he shook his head, straightened, but left his hand on her back. “No. You look fine.”

What had that been about? If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was going to kiss her.

“Oh my God. You’re Clint Grayson.” A twentyish black-haired man with three brow piercings, a barb through his nose, and a nametag that read
Stephen
stepped up to the counter.

“Hello.” Clint turned on the charm. “I’m hoping you can help me. We’re looking for Mario Sanchez.”

“Does he work here?”

“He was brought in this morning.” Summer smiled at the man, but he had yet to notice her.

“Can I have your autograph?” Stephen rummaged under the counter and produced a blank piece of paper and a black sharpie. “My girlfriend is never going to believe that I met you.”

“I’d be happy to. Could you find Mario Sanchez for us?” Clint signed his name. “What’s your girl’s name?”

“Nina.” Michael banged a few keys on the closest keyboard. “Sanchez, Mario. He’s sitting in Judge Kinzer’s court awaiting arraignment.”

Clint wrote
Dear Nina, Stephen is the best. Thanks, Clint Grayson
. “Is it possible for us to see him?”

“I don’t know.” Stephen looked around to see if anyone was watching him. “We’re not supposed to.”

“Would you like a picture with me? Do you have a camera phone?” Clint slid the autograph to his new friend.

“Sure.” Stephen produced an iPhone from the back pocket of his purple plaid pants and walked around the counter, flipped up a pass-through, and handed Summer the phone.

Clint put his arm around Stephen and smiled as she took the picture.

It took ten minutes to find Judge Kinzer’s courtroom. Clint pulled the door open for Summer, and she charged in like a mother hen defending her chicks.

Mario sat on the front row, head down. Blood crusted his lip, his face was a swollen, red-mottled caricature of the real thing. The orange jumpsuit swallowed him, and the handcuffs looked twice as big on his thin wrists. He was a frightened child, pretending to hold it together. Her heart dropped to her stomach, and tears burned her eyes.

Clint touched her arm. “I need to make a call. I’ll be right back.”

He stepped into the hall.

“I’m calling a ten-minute recess.” Judge Kinzer banged a large gavel, stood, and walked out a door behind the bench in a swirl of black robes.

Summer went to Mario. The guard watching over the row of shackled men stepped in front of her.

She glanced at his name badge.

“Deputy Acosta, would it be okay if I spoke with Mario Sanchez? I’m Summer Ames, his teacher.” Summer smiled and did her best to look nonthreatening.

“No, ma’am. I can’t let you.” His legs were shoulder-width apart, and he fixed his thumbs on either side of his belt buckle as if to show off the stunning array of gadgets, pouches, and weapons attached to his belt.

She peered at his face. “Acosta? Are you Ruben Acosta?”

He looked her up and down. “Yes.”

“I taught your brother, Romero. Isn't he graduating from Tech in May?” She’d helped Romero fill out the scholarship forms and written him a wonderful letter of recommendation. What were the odds that Ruben would be so grateful he’d let her speak with Mario?

“Rom’s got a 4.0 and is graduating with a double major.” Acosta nodded, pride in his voice. He grinned. “But you still can’t speak with Sanchez.”

Summer shrugged. “Worth a try.”

“Now, if you were to sit directly behind Mr. Sanchez, there would be nothing I could do about it. It’s a free country, and the seat behind him is vacant.”

“Romero was right to idolize you. You’re a good man.” Summer scooted into the seat and put her hand on Mario’s shoulder.

Acosta glanced at it and then looked away like he hadn’t seen a thing.

Mario relaxed under her hand. She didn’t need to say a word. He knew she was there for him, and that was all that mattered.

***

Clint pressed End and stepped into the crowded courtroom. All around him, people coughed and murmured and shuffled papers. He scanned the room, searching for Summer. Her curly, blonde hair and dark-green tee shirt were easy to spot.

On the second row, she sat behind Mario. Her hand was on the kid’s shoulder. She was letting him know she was there for him, standing up for him, even though she was sitting down. No matter what, she believed in him just like she believed in Clint.

Again, her words came back to him. “School is the only thing standing between my students and the streets.” She was wrong. It wasn’t the school; it was her. Summer was the one person her students could count on—no matter what it cost her, she was there for them. Could Clint say that about anyone in his life?

When he’d been young and powerless, no one had stood up for him because his father’s wrath wasn’t worth it—Clint hadn’t been worth it. If he’d had someone like Summer watching out for him, could he have had a childhood instead of growing up so fast?

Summer Ames was extraordinary, and using her to make himself look good wasn’t going to happen. Riding on her benevolent coattails was wrong and tarnished the purity of everything she was. Nothing was worth that. She deserved her good reputation, but he’d only wanted to rent it for a while. There had to be another way.

Clint’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He slipped out the door and answered it. The call he’d placed five minutes ago was the first truly selfless act he’d ever committed. Being around Summer made him want to be a better man.

Even from across the room, Clint knew Summer was talking to Jack. Clint couldn’t hear a word, but his strong, sassy, perfect Summer was wilting. As her ex pointed and gestured, she got smaller and smaller.

Clint kicked a rolling chair out of his way and nearly spilled the cone of water he’d stopped at the water fountain and gotten her.

No one messed with Summer, not while he was around.

“Here you go, babe.” Clint put his arm around her shoulders, and she stiffened. “I thought you might be thirsty, so I got you some water.”

Summer chewed on her lower lip and turned huge, whipped puppy-dog eyes on Clint. “Thanks.”

She looked frail, and Clint wanted her to be strong. Jack needed to pay for hurting her, and revenge was the only weapon Clint had at his disposal.

Summer sipped her water.

Clint leaned down and pretended to nuzzle her neck. “Play along. Chin up. Winning starts with attitude.”

She relaxed against him.

“I thought he was just volunteering in your class.” Clint watched as Jack’s beady, brown eyes followed Clint’s hand, which happened to be sliding down Summer’s arm, headed for her ass. Clint smiled to himself. Revenge had its rewards.

He pinched her butt playfully.

Summer choked on her mouthful of water.

“Are you okay?” Clint tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He turned to Jack. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Jack Dew.” He slammed his briefcase closed. “And you’re Clint Grayson.”

“Nice to meet you, Jim.” Clint made sure his forearm brushed across Summer in an accidental boob graze as he offered Jack his hand. “How do you two know each other?”

“It’s Jack.” He stared down at Clint’s hand for a second and then shook it. “We were engaged.”

Clint feigned surprise and turned to Summer. “You never mentioned him.” He nuzzled her cheek. “Then again, we don’t spend a lot of time talking. Do we?”

He winked at Jack like Summer was the fuck of the century.

Jack glanced at Summer’s chest and licked his lips. It took all of Clint’s years of polished self-control to refrain from stringing Jack up by his red polyester necktie and beating him like a piñata.

“We need to find the ADA.” Clint made a big show of looking around the room.

“You really didn’t tell him about me?” Dear old Jack sounded shocked at not being the center of Summer’s universe. “I’m the Assistant District Attorney.”

“Oh, good, Jarrod. Your boss says to cut Mario loose—”

“It’s Jack.” His phone rang.

“I bet that’s District Attorney McAdams. He’s an old friend,” Clint said in his I’m-way-more-important-than-you-are tone.

Jack pulled out his phone and looked at the caller ID. “Fuck.”

He took a couple of steps back and hauled the phone to his ear. “Hello, sir.”

Summer sagged with relief, and Clint slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. The scents of chocolate chip cookie and lemon furniture polish lingered in her hair as her round ass pressed against his thigh. Blood rushed to the front of his pants, and his trousers seemed to shrink two sizes. He should feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, because this wasn’t anywhere close to a romantic situation, but her ass was plump, and the fact that he’d only glimpsed faint outlines of her body through her baggy clothes lent her a mystique that was sexier than see-through lingerie. And he cared about her.

Of its own accord, his arm slid higher so that his palm rested directly under her breasts. Only someone as close as Jack could see Clint’s fingers tracing back and forth on the underside of one breast. They were firm and full. She was like a wrapped present on Christmas morning—half the fun was the anticipation of revealing the hidden treasures beneath all the pretty paper.

The corners of her mouth curled up in amusement. “You’re enjoying this way too much. I should slap your hand away, but Jack’s watching, and his handsome face is turning a nice shade of maroon.”

Clint didn’t see anything handsome in Jacky Boy’s face. “I take it you and ADA Asshole weren’t into public displays of affection?”

“Jack did his best to not be seen with me in public, so PDA wasn’t an issue.”

Clint frowned. Why? She was hot. Parading her around on his arm would be an honor.

“By the time I’m done, Jack won’t be able to get you out of his head.” Clint smiled lovingly down at her.

“That would be a first, since he never really thought about me at all.”

Clint whispered in her ear, “Laugh like I just suggested something naughty.”

Her throaty laughter rumbled out. “Did you really just use the word naughty?”

“Look directly into my eyes and do something sexy.” He traced her lips with his index finger.

Summer stared directly into his eyes, opened her mouth, sucked in his finger, and then forced it out with her tongue.

His world contracted to her mouth. He had to taste her.

The stiffness between his thighs turned to throbbing, his bad knee locked up, and his lungs couldn’t come up with enough air to inflate. Summer clamped her arm around his waist and caught his weight or they would have ended up in a heap on the floor.

“Excuse me.” Jack cleared his throat.

Clint’s head popped up. They weren’t alone. How had he forgotten?

“If you two are finished, I have some paperwork to finish. Your little felon has been released, and as we speak, a squad car is returning him home.” Jack slammed his briefcase closed. “Speaking of home, Shiny’s expecting me. We have our last Lamaze class tonight.”

“Shiny?” Summer’s face turned the color of cooked oatmeal. “Shiny Buttons really is her name?”

“Now, it’s Dew. Shiny Dew.” Jack pulled a small black-and-white photo from his left breast pocket. “And this is Baby Boy Dew. We can’t decide on a name.”

He flashed the grainy sonogram image.

“He’s due any minute.” There was more than pride in the man’s voice, there was perverse pleasure.

“Due? That means she was pregnant when…” Summer sank into Clint, her mouth forming a perfect O. Jack had popped her bubble of sass.

All his life, Clint had truly only hated one person. Now his father had been bumped to second place.

He needed to distract Summer before she turned back into the whipped puppy. Their flirtation was more important than ever if Jack was to believe that he’d been replaced. Clint brought one hand to her cheek, cupped her chin, leaned down, and kissed her.

Her mouth was closed, but her full top lip was ripe for sucking. Summer hesitated, and then her spine stiffened, and her shoulders went back. Pride made her rally. She fisted her hands in his hair, pressed her body against his, and ran her tongue along the seam of his lips. He opened his mouth, and her tongue danced inside his as she molded herself to him. Her arms tightened around his neck, and he had the impression that he was holding her up.