Perfect Summer (30 page)

He traced it with his index finger. “And your mouth—I don’t have the words to describe it. When it curls up in the corners and you hit me with that wicked smile…”

A shiver ran through him. “I get distracted.”

His tongue ran down her neck, past her collarbone, and down her arm. “Your arms are creamy white, and there’s this freckle…right here….” He captured her fingers in his and brought her forearm closer to his mouth, kissing a small freckle right below her elbow.

Summer had had no idea it was there.

“Your delicate hands with their long fingers…I love watching them. Whether it’s picking up a pencil or running your hands up my chest, your touch is light and precise…like every movement is a perfectly choreographed ballet.” He kissed her palm, released her hand, and slid his own up her torso, covering her right breast.

“These, like your lips, are a gift from God.” His finger ran along the rim of her strapless dress and then dipped into her cleavage. His other hand moved up her left side and perched at the top of the hidden zipper that ran from under her arm to her waist.

“I have been eyeing this zipper for the last two hundred and twelve minutes, counting the seconds until I could undo it.” Clint’s hand rested on the tab.

Summer swallowed. His eyes asked permission. The lump in her throat swelled, and tears, hot and wet, rolled down her cheeks. It was time to face down herself and let him in.

“You don’t need permission. You’re my boyfriend.” Her voice was rough, but the words were clear.

The tiny plastic teeth parted, and cool air wafted across the bare skin of her stomach. She wanted to look at the floor, the ceiling, the door, anywhere but at herself, only she wouldn’t back down. Not this time…not ever again. The little voice inside that constantly told her she was fat and stupid and not good enough faded away.

The black material parted, and more cool air danced across her nipples, puckering them to tiny buds.

“Jesus,” Clint said. It wasn’t a curse but a prayer. “You’re beautiful.”

His palms filled with her heavy breasts, and he lifted them as he massaged her nipples. His lips went to her neck. “Amazing.”

Summer’s head fell back against his chest, and she settled her body against his. In the mirror, she watched him worshipping her body with his eyes.

“Did you know that you make me nervous?” His gaze never left her breasts.

“How?” Her voice was husky and her face flushed as she watched Clint rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Her core bloomed with heat. She wanted to see his hands on the rest of her body, wanted to watch him make love to her.

Summer rolled the dress down her hips, past her thighs, and let it fall to the floor. The mirror stopped at her navel, but the waist it showed dipped in before curving into round hips. She covered his hands with hers, slid them from her breasts, down her rib cage, to her stomach. “Show me the rest.”

“Huh?” His eyes found the thin line of blonde curls trailing to her sex. He licked his lips. “Can I…I mean…we were talking about…there’s, um….what did you say?”

The total bewilderment on his face went straight to her heart. Female pride stepped out of the shadows and high-fived her ego.

“Show me the rest.”

“I need a moment.” He held up one finger. “Just one…you know…to collect myself. It’s just…wow. Here you are…I mean, I knew about the no panties thing…but wow.”

He cleared his throat, his eyes darting from her core to her breasts and back to her thighs like he couldn’t decide where to start. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to pick out a suit? I stood in the doorway of my closet for an hour, and then I had to find just the right socks. And shoes, I have so many black ones. I have some that tie and others that slip on…”

His eyes went to her lips, and he swallowed again. “You know shoes—they go on your feet. Well, after the socks but not with sandals or flip-flops. I like flip-flops. I have some brown ones and some black ones and some blue ones, but I lost the left blue one, so I guess those don’t count….”

He was enjoying the view so much that he’d moved from awe to rambling.

Summer kissed his cheek. “You say the nicest things.”

Clint blinked. “Was I talking? What did I say?”

She turned and slipped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against the silk of his tux.

“Charming.” She shook her head. “Even when you’re not trying.”

“That’s okay, right?” His hands slid down her back and cupped her bottom.

Summer glanced over her shoulder into the mirror. The face staring back at her had eyes sparkling with joy, high cheekbones, a button nose, and lips curling in a wicked smile.

She was nothing short of perfection.

***

Lilly tossed her diamond drop earrings into the top drawer of her jewelry cabinet.

“Careful.” Inez stepped into the closet. “You’re gonna mess up my system. I have everythin’ alphabetized.”

Lilly unclasped the strand of graduated diamonds at her throat. “How do you alphabetize jewelry?”

“D for diamond. It’s an earrin’, so it goes in the third drawer.” She opened the drawer. “Inside, I do color spectrum, left to right.”

“You have way too much time on your hands.” Lilly glanced in. She’d never noticed that her diamond earrings were indeed separated by ROY G. BIV.

Inez slammed the drawer shut. “I meant what I said earlier. I liked Summer’s football player. Don’t mess it up.”

“Mess it up? Me?” Lillian tried to look hurt, but it was a lost cause. “I’m trying.”

“We both know you’re the Antichrist. My priest makes the sign of the devil whenever I mention you.” Inez folded in her two middle fingers and her thumb making a bull’s horns.

“He’s a huge UT fan. He gives everyone hook’um horns.” Lilly flipped the lobster clasp of the bracelet, unhooked it, and pulled it over her wrist. She handed it to Inez. “Tell me about Clint Grayson. Is he good people?”

“Excellent pass completion record, but he should run the ball more. I like a quarterback who runs.” She shrugged. “I Googled him. He’s partied a little bit, had a problem with an heiress, but the charges were dropped. He seems to really like our Summer.”

Lilly stepped out of her heels. Her feet were killing her. “Think he’s good enough for her?”

“No, but no one’s good enough for our baby.” Inez snatched the shoes up and put them away.

“I don’t want her to get hurt.” Lilly leaned against the door of her room-sized closet.

“So stop hurtin’ her. She’s a grown-up. Stop interferin’.”

“If he hurts her, so help me God, I’ll kill him. It’s enough that Summer had to put up with Jack, that…jerk.” On more than one occasion, Lilly had been tempted to purchase a dump truck just to run him over.

“You really should learn to cuss. ‘Jerk’ doesn’t cut it.” Inez’s brows lifted. “Asshole, shithead, son of a bitch… Those are much better.”

“A lady doesn’t cuss. She gets her point across without vulgarity.” Lilly’s chin went up, and her shoulders went back just like Ms. Wanda’s Charm School had taught her. Since she was turning over a new leaf, she rounded her shoulders and tried slouching. It hurt, so she straightened her spine but left her shoulders where they were. Lillian liked shoulders back, but Lilly liked being comfortable.

“That lady thing is workin’ out so well for you.” Inez looked her up and down. “When you learn to drop the F bomb correctly, I’ll know you’re really a human and not some robotic fifties housewife reject who owns way too many pairs of shoes.”

“I hate you.” Lilly tugged at the zipper at her side. Her hand froze. If she undressed in front of Inez, the woman would figure out her secret. It wasn’t that she didn’t want her best friend to know about Henry, it was just that Lilly wanted a little while longer to revel in her newfound pregnancy.

“I know the feelin’.” Inez yawned. “I’m goin’ to watch the rest of season two of
The Big Bang Theory
. If you need somethin’, don’t call me.”

“I’m going to take a bath,” Lilly said. Wait, Dr. Boone had told her that hot baths weren’t good for the baby. “I mean a shower. I’m going to take a shower.”

Her baby already had the disadvantage of having her as a mother; the least she could do was to make sure he didn’t come out as a hard-boiled egg.

“Whatever you say, your highness.” Inez walked out of the closet. “Hey, aren’t your people from East Texas?”

“Yes, my mother’s family is from Lambert…sort of.” Lilly stepped into the bathroom. “Why?”

“Sheldon’s from East Texas. That explains a lot.”

“Huh?” Lilly turned on the tap to the huge marble tub and sat on the edge. Water splashed against Carrara, Italy’s finest. Her baby girl was all grown-up and had found a nice man who honestly liked her.

It felt like yesterday that Summer had been seven years old, missing her top front teeth, and begging for a puppy. She’d been crushed when Lilly had said no. Lilly always said no. Why hadn’t she said yes? There wasn’t a reason in the world that they couldn’t have had a puppy. Just once, Lilly should have said yes to something…anything.

No to Summer and no to Davis. She was the antithesis of a yes-man.

Not again. From now on, she was saying yes—it didn’t matter what it was. Yes was the new no. In fact, her daughter would hear the word yes so often that she’d forget that her mother knew the N word.

Campaign Yes would start bright and early Monday morning. She was taking Grayson’s advice. If she wanted to know her daughter, she needed to watch her daughter in action. Summer’s class was about to have its first mature student.

***

Two hours later, Clint rolled onto his side, gathered Summer in spoon fashion, and pulled the purple comforter up, covering them both. She fit so perfectly into his arms and into his life. And he’d almost screwed it up by doing what he’d thought was a favor. Now that he saw her side, he wanted to kick his own ass for making her feel less than perfect. He pulled her closer. He’d almost lost her—this—whatever they had, because he hadn’t correctly analyzed the angles. Angles were his thing; he’d always been good at them. But around Summer, he’d stopped trying so hard and didn’t look for ulterior motives in her every action. She was the calm in his hurricane of a life. She eased the restless part of him and made it okay to be less than perfect.

He was in love with Summer. She was his one.

His mouth went Sahara Desert-dry, so he swallowed several times. He wanted a life with her…marriage…children…a dog.

He didn’t believe in marriage…except that Summer deserved nothing less, and life without her loomed dull and gray…a series of days strung together by strategy and football. All the color and happiness would fade to white—sterile while—just like his house. No warmth…no Summer.

But life with her…he could see it now.

A house…this house… full of rowdy kids, dinners around the huge pine table. Watching Summer bloom with pregnancy and knowing that he’d gotten her that way would be his greatest achievement.

Saturday mornings, they’d let Mommy sleep in while Clint made pancakes and he and the kids watched cartoons. There would be toys and shoes cluttering the floors and laughter—lots of laughter and love. Their children would have all the love and attention Clint never had.

Summer was his future. Endorsement deal or no, she was the life he wanted. But did she want him? That had never been a question he’d faced in a relationship.

He’d never really cared about the women in his life or had to guess about their feelings. Watching dozens of them fall in and out of love with him had made him immune to their emotions…his emotions. It was sobering to realize how little he’d cared about anyone until now.

He stroked Summer’s cheek. She was the only female he’d ever known who didn’t want to talk about her feelings…ever. He kinda wanted to know where she stood on the whole I-love-you thing. Spit flooded his mouth, and this time he swallowed so he wouldn’t drown. It was either feast or famine.

He’d never used the L word, and it didn’t feel natural in his mouth. Did he jump right in and tell her? Was there some sort of protocol like he shouldn’t say it until the third date or after they’d been together for at least six weeks? Was the first time supposed to be spontaneous, or did it require a formal date with dinner and dancing? What about atmosphere? He looked around. Rumpled sheets and a cozy bed, did that count? It wasn’t like the top of the Eiffel Tower or a sunset cruise. Sweat broke out on his upper lip, and his fingers tapped gently against the pillow.

“What’s wrong?” Summer’s voice was drowsy.

“Nothing.” His voice was about two octaves higher than normal.

She touched his fidgeting fingers. “I’m okay with it.”

Had he missed something? “What?”

“I know what’s wrong, and I’m okay with it.” Summer yawned. “You want to leave, and you’re wondering if it will hurt my feelings. Not that I have lots of experience, but I’m given to believe that most men don’t like to spend the night. You don’t have to stay.”

That was a kick straight to the heart. It hurt. He wanted her to want him to stay…. He wanted her to want something…anything from him. Of all the women he’d ever known, he had to fall in love with the only one who didn’t expect anything from him. If he chose to only throw her crumbs of himself and his time, she would gladly take them and never ask for more. But he wanted more from her and for her. The inclination to yell and throw things because he was stinking mad was overpowered by sadness…empty, soul-sucking sadness. It didn’t matter that he had nothing to offer her, because she didn’t want anything from him anyway.

“What if I want to stay?” He hated that his voice shook. For the first time in his life, he was uncertain of himself. Giving a speech caused nausea but never uncertainty.

“I would love it. I hope you stay forever.” Summer tugged his arm tighter around her.

Nothing about wanting him to stay, she only hoped he would. It wasn’t perfect, but Summer was showing him that there was perfection in imperfection. Still, he needed some reassurance.

“Can I ask you a favor?” he whispered against her neck, his heart beating like a jackhammer. This was stupid—he hadn’t been this nervous since he’d gone on his first date.