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As expected, she received all kinds of cooking-related items from her family: a “Kiss the Cook” apron from Jayden; a maple cutting board laser-engraved with Priscilla’s apple pie recipe from Spring; a new canvas knife roll with leather handles from Bob and Priscilla; a mushroom farm in a box, courtesy of April and Abby; a set of Japanese paring knives with handles and protective sheaths in every color of the rainbow from Autumn; and a large gift box of assorted gourmet finishing vinegars and truffle oils from Winnie and Geoff.
Summer saved Brock’s gift for last. He held his breath as she lifted the small, flat box and untied the ribbon. Alone among all the presents, his gift had nothing to do with cooking.
“Oh,” breathed Summer as she removed the lid from the box. She stared down at for a long moment.
Brock saw her bite her lower lip. Doubts suddenly swooped in like hawks stooping on prey.Fuck. I got it wrong.
Then Summer looked at him. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” And then, right in front of her family, she leaned in to kiss him.
When she drew back, little April demanded, “But what did she get?” And Abby chimed in, “I wanna see!”
Summer’s face lit up with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen on her. It made her eyes glow like sapphires.
Brock let out a breath of relief. Autumn hadn’t steered him wrong, after all.
Summer lifted the slender gold chain from the box and showed his gift to the family. It was a pendant set with a faceted, heart-shaped pale green peridot, her birthstone, framed in a gold band set with tiny diamonds.
An elegant swirl of gold topped the pendant and formed a loop for the chain.
It was the sort of gift you gave a girlfriend, not a “friend with benefits,” and that was why it had been risky.
“It’s gorgeous!” Priscilla exclaimed. “Brock, how very thoughtful.” She shot him an approving look.
From the other side of the living room, Autumn gave him the thumbs-up.
They spent the rest of the evening playing board games. Brock and Summer teamed up for a round ofSettlers of Catan, and lost to Spring and Autumn’s team by huge margin.
After the kids were put to bed, Bob and Spring began to wash the pots and pans and the non-dishwasher safe items.
Brock followed them into the kitchen and grabbed a dish towel, preparing to do his part in drying the dishes.
But Bob turned from his place at the sink, and made a shooing gesture. “Kind of you to offer, but don’t you and Summer have somewhere to be?”
Summer, who’d followed Brock as far as the doorway separating the kitchen from the living room, raised her hand to touch the pendant now hanging from her throat. “Do we, Brock?”
“Yeah. There’s a special dessert with your name on it at my place.” Fuck. He couldn’t believe he’d just said that in front of Summer’s dad.
But Bob only chuckled. “Have fun, you two.”
“Summer, will you be home for dinner tomorrow?” asked Priscilla, who was on the other of the kitchen, busily packing away the leftovers in plastic containers of various sizes.
“I don’t think so,” Summer replied. “Tomorrow’s when we start the big renovation at the diner. We’re hoping to finish up by Tuesday night, so that we can reopen for business on Wednesday morning.”
“Oh, that’s right!” Priscilla said. “Your dad and I will be there as soon as morning chores are done, paintbrushes in hand. Have a good night, and happy birthday, baby girl.”
She turned from the counter and gave Summer a long hug. Then, to Brock’s surprise, Priscilla hugged him, too.
He and Summer left the house hand in hand. As they walked to his truck, he swallowed hard, silently rehearsing the words he wanted to say to her once they arrived at his cottage.
Chapter Twenty-Two – Summer
Summer had barely closed the cottage door behind her when Brock seized her and pushed her up against the living room wall.
He pinned her there with his hips, hands tangled in her loose hair, and bent to capture her mouth in a heated kiss. It was passionate, a little rough, and totally hot.
She made a noise of pure need deep in her throat and arched against him, grinding herself against the ridge of his erection, encased in denim.
Under the sensual assault of his mouth, her fingers scrabbled against the fabric of his shirt. She tugged it out of his jeans, craving his bare skin against her palms, taut and warm over hard muscle.
