“Separately? Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on. I don’t—”
“I’m not going to take any shit from your father this time. Not ever again. He can ignore me, or hate me, or treat me however he wants, but I won’t allow him to intimidate you or whatever the fuck else runs through his calculated mind.” Summer paused. “And it’s not because I think you’re too fragile to handle your father, it’s because if he thinks he’s going to mistreat you for any reason…he’s going to have to come through me.”
Carrie Ann had heard her fair share of colorful threats and promises, growing up in the backseat of her father’s town car should’ve required headphones, but at that moment, she’d never felt more cherished and protected. His mouth dragged gently along her throat, probing for her response.
“I’ll talk with him on the phone, for now, and make arrangements for lunch or dinner.”
Their gazes caught. His left brow arched to a point. “Face it, Red. You’re a procrastinator when it comes to confrontations, especially when it involves getting things off your chest. I don’t want…I would be grateful…if the issue doesn’t get drug out for a month. Deal?”
“Deal. In the near future.”
The long drive to Summer’s secluded Malibu hilltop home gave Carrie Ann over an hour of travel time to make the dreaded phone call. It took two unanswered calls to Shayla and Sara, and twenty minutes of complete silence, cocooned in the confines of her car, to prep for the next call. Hands wringing wet and clinging to the steering wheel, she pushed the talk button, dialing her father.
It didn’t even make it through the second ring, before hearing her father’s gravelly voice on the other end of the line, excusing himself from a conversation. “I’ve got to take this call. That sounds like a perfect place to settle the score. I’ll see you on the course at seven Sunday morning.”
Carrie Ann broke into his conversation, “Do you want to call me back?”
“No, no. I’m here, just finishing up a meeting,” he assured brusquely. She heard the sound of his office door clicking shut. “Are you home from your vacation now?”
“Hi to you too.” She attempted to keep a calmness to her tone, prepping for his eruption. “Yes, we just got back a few hours ago.”
“I’m not sure what’s in that head of yours, Carrie Ann. I thought you were finished with that boy years ago. I’ve been worried about you. I get a phone call from you a week ago, stating that you’re running off on…some sort of private vacation, and that you’d be unavailable for a week or two.” His controlled seething bordered on shouting. She envisioned his full face turning a deep shade of purple. “Then I get a text from that useless excuse of an ex-boyfriend of yours, telling me that you’d been drugged at the auction. That son-of-bitch had the nerve to tell me you were in good hands and that you’d be home when there was a break in the weather.”
“Some of that’s true,” she interjected, her tone set firm. “Except the part about Summer being useless or a son-of-a-bitch or my ex-boyfriend. I’m so glad you’re more concerned about my relationship with Summer than the fact that someone drugged me. I really…”
“What makes you think it wasn’t that boy who drugged you? I spoke with Jason and…”
“Excuse me? I’m warning you, Dad. Don’t you dare imply that Summer had anything to do with that.”
“Warning me?”
Fighting off the intimidation in his tone, she squared her shoulders. “Yes, you heard me correctly. Considering that I only drank a few glasses of champagne, which Jason happened to hand to me, I think he’s the one who has some explaining to do.”
“Are you insinuating that Jason Calver put something in your drink? I’ve known his parents…”
“I’m not insinuating anything, Dad. You’re the lawyer. You tell me.”
“That man comes from a good family, Carrie Ann.”
“I don’t care where he comes from. All I’m saying is that I’ve got a few questions for Jason.”
The sound of a pen tapping on her father’s desk ricocheted through her car. “If you’ve got questions for Jason they should come through me. I’ll make reservations and the three of us can go to dinner to discuss what happened.”
“Dad, I’m not asking you to get involved. I won’t be going to dinner with Jason whether it’s to ask him questions or for any other reason. I’m not accusing him of anything. I simply need to talk with him and I’m sure Summer will be with me when I do.”
“You can’t be serious about starting things back up with him? You’re making a mistake…”
“The only mistake I’ve ever made was never giving him a chance to explain himself ten years ago.”
His criticism was cut short by a sharp breath of air he seemed to be choking on.
Taking full advantage of his rare silence, she advised, “I want you to know, I’m moving in with Summer. Tonight. You should probably come to terms with it, Dad, because he’s not going anywhere.”
“Come to terms with it?” Bitterness hung in his deep baritone like a dense layer of fog on a California June-gloom misty morning.
“Yes. I love him. I always have.” On a courageous high, she continued, “One more thing, Dad. You might want to consider your words carefully from now on. If you’re going to act like judge and jury, throwing down a sentence, reprimanding him for his stock, you might want to consider the fact that your future grandchildren will come from his genes.”
*
The prime piece of celebrity real estate perched atop a mountain provided sprawling 360-degree views of the ocean, mountains and canyons. Carrie Ann nearly stumbled from the car, devouring the stunning sight of the city lights twinkling like diamonds in the dark canyons below.
With less than five-thousand square feet of living space, the secluded Malibu hilltop home was modest in size, yet a mansion by any standards. Set on eleven acres, the modern, earth-toned home made of concrete, disappeared into the rough natural landscape.
Aspen bolted past, ears slicked back, happy to be on her normal stomping grounds. Summer’s long muscular arms slipped around her waist. He nuzzled her ear as she stood at the edge of the drive, staring in awe.
“So you like it?” His lips brushed the shell of her ear as she nodded. “Wait till you see the inside.
“Your place is so remote.”
“It’s a bit of a drive for Starbucks, but I think it’s worth it.”
“I’d say. Who needs a venti caramel macchiato? This view requires enjoying your favorite cup of coffee while snuggling under the covers. It’s breathtaking.”
“You’re gonna be breathless when I get you inside.” The scrape of his stubble tickled her neck before indulging in a nibble. “Seriously, Red, I know it’s going to be a commute for you every day. If it’s something we need to change, then we will. We can live wherever. I want you to be happy.”
“I think I can handle it. Truthfully, I can do most of my work from my computer. I’ve always preferred to go to the office every day because it’s part of my routine and gets me out of the house.” She twisted in his embrace, molding her front to his, staring into his eyes. “However, my tastes have changed recently.”
“Your tastes have changed? Hmm?”
His chest lifted and lowered as a sinful glaze set fire to his eyes. One hand threaded into the hair at her nape, the other slid along the underside of her jaw. Clasping her fingers to his waist, she raised to her toes, hitching her hips, cradling his erection. The heat of his ragged breath fanned across her face. Summer coasted his thumb across her lower lip, tugging gently to open her mouth. Carrie Ann sensually slipped her tongue around his thumb, sucking it into the wet heat.
Their mouths came together. His lips locked to hers, each desperately feasting off the other, as if fearing the moment of promise was too good to be true. He worked her over in an openmouthed kiss, hungry and white hot, until her knees began to give. With little effort, he hooked an arm beneath her legs, carrying her toward the front door. Slinging her arms around his neck, she giggled, snuggling into the curve of his neck.