She started to rise up, when he reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Where you goin’, babe?” He lifted his head and turned to look over his shoulder at her.
“I…I thought you were asleep.”
“Nope.”
“Oh.”
He could see the embarrassment flame through her at the thought of him hearing the endearment she’d just whispered to him. “Lift up a minute, babe.”
She immediately rose up on her knees, taking her weight off him. He twisted, rolling to his back, his hands settling on her thighs, which were spread around his hips. His hands slid up to her waist, pulling her weight back down onto the tops of his thighs. His eyes drifted up over her body, coming to rest on her face. What he saw there had him hardening beneath her. He watched her eyes as they drifted over his chest and stomach. Did she long to run her hands over the taut muscles of his chest like she had his back? His mouth went dry as he watched her eyes drift lower to where the trail of hair ran from his navel down, disappearing into the waistband of his faded jeans. He groaned at the unbridled desire he saw flame across her face. His hand closed over hers, and he tugged. “Come here.”
Her eyes darted up to his, and she swallowed.
“Jess. C’mere,” he repeated, pulling her down. His other hand cupped the side of her jaw, his fingers sliding into the hair behind her ear, and he guided her mouth down to his. Her chest came down on his as his mouth closed over hers. He released her hand to glide his up under her tank, pressing against the small of her back.
Cary angled his head as his mouth moved over her lips. He pulled back a fraction of an inch and murmured, “Open for me, Jess.” Wanting more than anything at that moment, to taste her.
She obeyed his command without hesitation, her lips parting, and his tongue delved inside. His other hand came up to frame her face as he took control of the kiss, his mouth eating at hers. My God, but she tasted sweet, he thought. Cary groaned under her mouth, as the kiss escalated straight off the charts into the stratosphere. She responded to him with a passion that shocked him. He couldn’t help himself as one hand released her face to slide down over her ass, pulling her tight against him.
A moment later he was growling and rolling her to her back, settling between her thighs, propping his weight on his elbows above her, his hands threading into her hair. “Fuck, baby-doll,” he growled, his mouth breaking from hers to trail along her jaw to her ear and then down her neck.
Her eyes slid closed, and her head fell back exposing more of her neck to him. He took what she offered, his open mouth moving over the soft skin under her jaw. He nipped at her and heard her whimper. His tongue came out to gently lick the skin.
And then suddenly there was another tongue licking at her cheek. Both their eyes flew open to see Rocky nuzzling his nose against her face, trying to come between her and Cary. “Rocky!” she shrieked.
Cary’s head lifted up, his arm coming up to shove the dog back. “Get your own girl.” Rocky’s tail swished back and forth, and he stared at Cary, thinking it was playtime. Cary shoved him back again. “Rocky, go! Lie down,” he ordered.
The dog dropped his head, padded back to the hearth, and settled back down with a harrumph and a whine.
Cary looked down at Jessie as a grin spread across his face, and then they were both laughing. “Guess it’s for the best.” He brushed the hair back from her forehead and murmured, “I think it’s time we stopped.” She stared up at him, and then her gaze dropped to his mouth. He shook his head. “Don’t look at me like that, Jess.”
“Why not?” she asked, her words barely a whisper.
“Because I’m trying to do the right thing here.” He dropped his head for one last brush of his lips on hers, and then he was lifting his weight off her, and pulling her to her feet. She stared up at him, her eyes searching his, and he could see plainly that she didn’t want to leave him. “Jess, I know you think you want this, but-”
She cut him off, admitting quietly, “I’m not really sure what I want, Cary. I just know I don’t want to go.”
His hand came up, and he slid the back of his knuckles down her cheek. “And I don’t want you to go. But you can’t stay, baby-doll. We both know that.”
She nodded and stepped away.
He moved to hold the screen door for her as she slipped through, their chests almost touching. “See ya, Jess.”
She paused, looking back at him. “See ya.”
He watched her turn away and step off the porch. He kept watching her as she walked back across the work yard, all the way back to the main house. Jessie stopped on the back stairs, her hand on the screen door, and looked back. Cary was still standing in his doorway, his eyes on her. She smiled and went inside. Cary closed the door, leaned back against it, and blew out a long breath. Then he took a cold shower.
That morning, Summer drove into town to meet Justin at the diner at eleven, like he’d asked her to. She felt she at least needed to see if he was okay and to apologize for what Steve had done last night. And if she was going to be honest with herself, she hoped he’d give her some answers.
She pulled into a spot in front of Margie’s diner and climbed out of the truck. She had on a pair of jeans and a sleeveless blouse. Slipping her purse on her shoulder, she went inside.
The bell tinkling over the door drew Margie’s attention, as she stood at the counter refilling a coffee cup. She smiled when she saw Summer and waved two fingers at her. “Sit anywhere, doll.”
Summer’s gaze darted around the diner, searching for Justin. There were only three customers in the place, the man at the counter and an elderly couple in a booth. Summer slid into a booth facing the door and plate glass windows. From here she could see anyone coming through the door, or approaching on the sidewalk.
A moment later, Margie came over with the coffee pot and a mug. She set it down in front of Summer and began filling it without asking. “How are you doing today, doll?”
Summer smiled up at her. “Fine and you?”
“Doing okay. Kind of slow today, especially for a Saturday.”
Summer nodded.
“You meeting Steve for lunch?”
“Um, no, why?”
Margie shrugged. “No reason. Didn’t figure you for the type to eat alone, that’s all.”
Summer smiled slyly at her. “Maybe I’m not.”
“Oh, I see how it is. Well, can’t say I’m surprised. Pretty girl like you, wouldn’t take long for the men to start buzzing around you. Just figured Steve would beat ‘em all to it.”
Summer flushed. “It’s not like that.”
“Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that, honey.” Margie slid into the opposite seat. “So, spill. Who is he?”
Summer glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was ten minutes past eleven. “Well, if he ever shows, you’ll get to see.”
Margie’s eyes followed hers to the clock. “He late?”
Summer nodded. “A little.”
Margie slid out of the booth. “Well, I’ll leave you be. Wouldn’t want to scare him off.”
Summer smiled at her. “Thanks, Margie.”
She leaned down. “My advice, no man’s worth waiting more than twenty minutes for.” Straightening, she winked and walked away.
Summer drank her coffee and watched the door. At twenty minutes past eleven, she set a couple of dollars on the table to pay for her coffee and slid from the booth.
Margie looked up and saw her leaving. She nodded to her.
Summer walked outside and climbed in the truck. She sat a moment, looking down the street, wondering why he stood her up. Then she decided to find out. She started the truck and backed out.
Two minutes later, she was walking into Justin’s Garage.
He looked up from under the hood of the car he was working on. “Summer.”
“You stood me up.”
Straightening, he replied, “I didn’t figure you’d show after last night.”
“Why?”
“I figured they’d warn you off me.”
“They did. Why is that?” she asked, folding her arms, her hip jutting out in a no-nonsense stance.
“It’s a long story. Got nothin’ to do with you. Steve’s a jealous son-of-a-bitch. He and I haven’t gotten along since high school.”
“Nothing to do with me?” she asked disbelieving.
“Nope.”
“Why don’t I believe that? Maybe because I always seem to be in the middle of it.”
He tossed the tool he was holding on the floor and came towards her. “Well, since you brought it up, let’s get into that. You tell me something, babe. Did I misread what happened in here yesterday?” He stopped right in front of her, and she had to look up at him.
She saw the bruising on the side of his jaw and reached up to touch it. “Oh, Justin, your face. I’m so sorry. He hurt you-”
He closed his hand over hers, capturing her palm against his face. “You didn’t answer me, Summer. Did I misread it? You came in here, looking pretty as a picture in that dress, bringing me baked goods. I thought you were interested in me. Was I wrong?”
“I…I…”
He backed her up against the door panel of a car parked in the next bay. Putting he hands on the car’s roof on either side of her, he boxed her in. “Didn’t I feel something when we kissed? Weren’t those sparks I felt fly between us? Huh? Didn’t you feel it, too?”
She looked up at him, finding it hard to breathe, and then he was leaning down kissing her, gathering her close in his arms. Her hands came up, pushing against his chest, and she broke the kiss.
He looked down at her, studying her face. “I guess I have my answer.” He pushed away, turned, and walked back toward the car he’d been working on.
“Justin, wait,” she called.
He stopped, but didn’t turn. He waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he turned his head and said over his shoulder. “We could have been real good together, Summer.”
And then he went back to work.
She turned and walked out.
Chapter Nine
Late that afternoon, Summer was in the kitchen, cutting up potatoes and carrots for a beef stew. She had on a cotton sundress, with an apron tied around her waist.
Pop walked in and set the mail on the table. “Bills and more bills.”
Summer turned, wiping her hands on her apron. “Can I get you something, Pop?”
“No, ma’am. I think I’ll go out on the porch and sit a spell.”
A few minutes later, Summer followed him out onto the porch.
He turned at the sound of the screen door creaking open and saw her carrying out two glasses of lemonade.
“I thought you might be thirsty,” she said, offering him a glass.
He was sitting in one of the two rocking chairs, smoking his pipe. “Why that’s mighty nice of you, dear,” he said, taking the glass. “Here, sit with me a while. You work too hard.”
Summer sat in the other rocking chair and took a sip of her drink. It was nice to take a break.
“These old bones of mine sure are aching today.” He took a sip of lemonade and set the glass down on the small table between them.
“How old are you, Pop? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Be eighty next spring,” he answered, rocking away, his pipe still in his mouth.
“You get around pretty good,” Summer commented with a smile.
“Got a few good years left, I hope,” he replied.
Summer rocked and looked out over the landscape, across the road to the meadow and fields that stretched to the hills. “I envy Steve, growing up here. It’s so beautiful.”
“Steve didn’t grow up here,” Pop informed her, puffing on his pipe.
Summer turned to look at him, surprise written all over her face. “He didn’t? I don’t understand.”
“Steve didn’t come to live here until he was seventeen. Until then, I didn’t even know he existed,” Pop clarified.
“What? How can that be?” she asked.
“Steve’s mother, Cindy, met my son, David, when he was at Fort Benning. He was there for basic training. It was the summer of 1970.” Pop explained, taking another puff off his pipe, his eyes drifting across the landscape. “David was sent to Viet Nam that fall. He was in-country only three weeks when he was killed in action.
“I’m so sorry for you, Pop,” Summer said, reaching over and touching his hand.
“It was an awful thing, an awful thing. He was so young. Emma, my wife, took it hard. He was our only child.” He stopped and took another puff on his pipe.
Summer noticed the gleam of tears in his eyes.
“Like I said, we didn’t know about Steve or his mother. They hadn’t married. David had never even mentioned her. She later told us that she’d written to him when she found out she was carrying his child, but he never wrote back. After David died, the Army forwarded his mail to us. He died before ever receiving that letter. He never even knew he was going to be a father.”
“How awful,” Summer whispered.
“Emma read the letter. The return address had been water damaged at some point in its travels, and it was illegible. All we knew was that somewhere in this world was a woman named Cindy, who was carrying our son’s child, or at least claiming to.” He shook his head, remembering.
“What happened?” Summer prompted.
“Nothing. We thought...we hoped she’d try to contact us. But we never heard another word, until seventeen years later. Cindy was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Her parents were dead, and she knew she needed someone to be there for Steven when she passed. She knew David was from here in Ruby Falls, and she found us.” He took a drink of lemonade.
“Go on, please,” Summer whispered.
“One summer afternoon, they pulled up the drive in an old battered station wagon. She got out of the car, and then Steven got out. I took one look at him, and knew this was our son’s child, and that this was the woman from the letter. Steve, at seventeen, looked exactly like David had that summer he left for boot camp.”
“She’d never tried to find you before that?” Summer asked.
“No, she didn’t even know David had been killed. She had just assumed he’d gotten her letter, and when he never replied, she thought he didn’t want anything more to do with her,” Pop explained, taking out a foil packet of tobacco and refilling his pipe. “When Cindy came, she thought she was coming to tell a man about his son, not grandparents about their grandchild.” He lit a match and relit his pipe. “Emma insisted they stay. They moved in, and Steve’s been here ever since.”