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“Momma’s threatenin’ to smoke, Summer,” Aunjenue sighed.
Summer blinked back tears that almost refused to go away.
If her momma was threatening to smoke, then it really was bad.
“I’m sorry.” She rubbed at the chill in her arms, hating what she was doing to herself and to those who loved her. “I’ll get a handle on it, I promise.”
“No one else probably knows,” Aunjenue assured her. “They’re all used to you bein’ distant anyway. Momma and Daddy know you though. As do Caleb, Bowe, and Brody. We hate seeing you hurting like this.”
She hated hurting, but she was going to have to find some way to bury it deeper than she was obviously burying it.
“I’ll be okay, I promise.” She found Raeg and Falcon again, her gaze meeting theirs, their expressions just as implacable as they’d been the night before.
“You should dance,” Aunjenue snapped, her lips thinning as Summer faced her, anger gleaming in her deep blue eyes. “You should have fun. Show them they’re not going to kill you.”
“But it’s killing them as well, Auna,” she told her sister softly, her lips curving with a weary smile. “They just hide it better, that’s all.”
Her sister rolled her eyes, anger flashing in them as she shot Raeg and Falcon a fierce glare.
“If this is love, count my cute little ass out,” her sister declared with a little wave of her hand. “Because I’m sure it just ain’t worth the headache.”
It was worth it, but that was something Aunjenue would have to learn for h
erself, she decided.
“Go find a dancing partner,” Summer ordered her sister as she glanced at the large brick circle laid just for summer parties. “I’m having fun watching, I promise.”
“And you are such a liar,” Aunjenue accused her. “But Momma’s demandin’ my presence again.” She rolled her eyes. “God save me, but that woman is makin’ me crazy. I told her already I don’t need a damned husband…”
Summer watched her sister stalk away, turned back, and started in surprise to see Falcon standing in front of her.
He held his hand out to her as a slow, incredibly sensual tune began filling the air.
“Dance with me, Belle,” he demanded, his voice low.
Reaching out, she took his hand and let him lead her to the patio. Stepping into his arms, her breath caught at the sensation of belonging as he pulled her against him.
Summer rested her forehead against his chest, following his lead, swaying against him and feeling warm for the first time since they’d stepped from the limo the night before.
“We have to stop this,” she told him as he bent his head to hers, his lips against her ear, his hand caressing her back beneath the cover of her hair. “You know we do.”
The silence, the refusal to speak, the pain-filled nights they were spending alone all had to stop.
“Shh,” he whispered, his hand stroking down her back again. “Just let me hold you, Summer. I need to hold you for a minute.”
“I need to hold both of you,” she objected. “And I’m tired of sleeping alone. This isn’t over yet. I was supposed to have this time until Dragovich was dealt with, and you’re cheating me out of my time, Falcon.”
Don’t beg, Steven had advised her. Summer wasn’t very good at begging and she knew it. But she damned sure knew how to demand.
“This is the final night of this week’s parties,” he said, his voice remaining low. “The nights you’re attending them there’s no other choice. These men are here for you, we’ve heard it over and over again, Summer. And I swear to you, if I hear one more time how some son of a bitch wants to keep you barefoot and pregnant, I’m going to haul out my gun and shoot him in the dick.”
Her lips twitched.
It really wasn’t funny, she knew. He was actually mostly serious. He was furious over it. But he was also so dramatic when he was pissed off.
“You’ll sleep with me tonight then?” she asked, feeling lighter, the shadow of agony easing enough to allow her to relax against him.
“We’ll sleep with you,” he promised, his lips brushing against her air. “Stop making me want to cry with those big, shadowed eyes of yours, and I promise we will hold you between us until this hell begins again.”
