She blinks at me, fresh-faced and stunning. My mind is swirling with the lingering lust of what we did, but it’s too much to see her standing there, looking at me like … she regrets it.
I rub my hands together to stop myself from reaching for her. “Yeah, well, dig in. I, uh, I’m gonna go grab a shirt.”
I escape to the studio, gentlyshutting the door behind me before collapsing down on the floor and pressing my face to my hands.
I’ll never forgive myself for this. I blew my one chance with her.
“Where’s Amelia?”
Cheri smiles at me from across the picnic table. “She’s with Mary Beth, my neighbor. Her granddaughter was visiting, and they were learning how to make snickerdoodles.”
I nod, interlacing my fingers on top of the table.
“So, what’s up? You said you needed to talk and you couldn’t leave the house. Did something happen with the renovation?”
I shake my head, rubbing my hand over the back of my neck. I showered, shaved, brushed my teeth, and changed into linen shorts and a matching button-down. I’m wearing a backward Patagonia cap over my hair that’s grown way too long.
“It’s about Summer.”
Her brows rise. I’ve been debating how much to actually tell her since I texted and asked her to stop by. I thought Summer might need a familiar face, someone who isn’t me, to be around.
“She just seems upset, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Really?” She frowns. “She seems fine to me.”
I turn to follow Cheri’s gaze as Summer walks up from the beach. She’s been gone for over two hours. I sigh in relief at the sight of her. She doesn’t look at me, but she smiles at Cheri.
“Well, hello. Where’s your mini?” Summer walks right up to her and bends down to give her a hug.
“She’s with my neighbor, baking cookies. You’ll probably be on my delivery route later.”
Summer smiles at her. “I can’t wait! I haven’t done any baking since I did it with my mom in high school.”
Cheri smiles back. “So, we should do something since I’m kid-free and Summer seems to be okay.”
I wince at her words. Summer glares at me.
I wave a hand, standing up to leave. “Well, you ladies have fun. I need to get packing. I have a meeting I can’t miss.”
Cheri raises a brow. “You called me to come over here when you can’t even stay?”
Summer avoids eye contact with me, studying her nail beds. My stomach cramps.
“Yeah, sorry. I forgot about it. My secretary just texted me. I only flew in to check on the house.”
Cheri studies me, eyes flicking from Summer’s face to mine. “Uh, okay. Long trip just to look at a house someone can easily send you a photo of. When will you be back?”
My eyes coast over Summer’s profile. It feels like a refrigerator is sitting on my chest.
“I don’t know. Maybe next month.”
Summer blinks, twirling her hair around her finger. I’m desperate for a split second of her attention, but she’s refusing to give it to me. I guess our new game is her ignoring me and me being an obsessive freak who can’t accept her coldness.
“Welp, okay then. See you later.” She turns to Summer. “How do you feel about a surfing day at the beach? It’s been a while since I’ve gone.”
I don’t wait around to hear her response before disappearing into the studio to collect my luggage and nurse my bruised ego.
The problem I’ve always had is that I’m obsessive. My business partner, Henry, is convinced that I have worse obsessive compulsive disorder than anyone he’s ever met. Once a thought is in my head, I can’t get it out. It lingers there, haunting me at unwanted times, going in directions I don’t want it to take, but can’t seem to prevent.
