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"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"I'm not going to make you wait half an hour in your car, Summer."

I asked to be picked up because the new car I ordered will be delivered next week, and I avoid cabs if I can.

"Okay."

Clicking off, I

head outside and open the door next to the double gate, just in time to see a woman climb out of a red Ford. The moment she sees me, her eyes widen, and she presses her full lips together. I switch on my camera smile, motioning with my head toward the house.

"Come on in."

Nodding, she rushes forward, smiling and fiddling with her thumbs. I've seen this behavior before, when it's clear someone is trying to hold back from squealing or jumping in my face and taking a selfie. I appreciate the effort.

I close the gate the second she's through and hold out my hand.

"I'm Alex."

"I know. I mean, obviously you know I know." She closes her eyes and breathes in. "Sorry. I'm babbling. I'm Summer."

Grinning, I shake her hand, then lead her to the house on the path of cobbled stone. “How long have you been waiting out there?”

“Ten minutes. I left the gallery early because I didn’t know how the traffic would be.”

“What do you do at the gallery?”

“I’m a curator, but I do a bit of everything,” she explains as we step inside the house.

I'm close enough to see she wears no makeup. She's biting on her plump lower lip, her hands crossed over her chest. She's a petite woman, but the simple black dress and wide belt she's wearing shows off her beautiful curves. When she's done inspecting the room, she focuses on me. Her eyes hold a mix of curiosity and excitement, but there is also unexpected warmth there.

"Sorry, I'm staring," she says when our gazes meet. Shifting her weight from one leg to the other, she looks at the hardwood floor.

"I'm used to it," I say honestly. Plus, I was checking her out, so I can’t exactly point fingers.

“Now, Daniel’s told me you’re very chatty.”

She smiles sheepishly. “Usually, yeah.”

“He also said you can be pretty wild when you unleash your inner fangirl.”

“He did not say that!” She stands up straighter, her cheeks turning pink. Then her ears turn pink too. Fuck, she’s cute. “Did he? Did he?”

“Sort of. But seeing your reaction, I think the question warrants more digging.”

She offers me a firm shake of her head. “Nope.” Then she sighs. “I might have embarrassed him once or twice when I was dying for an autograph.”

“I’ll gladly give you one, Summer.”

“What makes you think I want one?” She narrows her eyes and plants her hands on her hips. I get the feeling she can be a downright little minx.

“Touché. Want anything to drink?" I motion to the leather couch on our left. "You can sit if you want."

"Thanks. A glass of soda would be good. By the way, this is a very nice house."

"I like it too. My sister found it for me, furnished it too," I explain while I head to the small bar in the corner and pour soda in a glass.

"Oh, your family lives in San Francisco? Sorry, I'm prying."

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