He’d been all of seventeen and Summer fifteen. They’d spent the entire months of July and August making out in his old, beat-up truck. But he wasn’t seventeen anymore. He was a grown man with goals and accomplishments that had nothing to do with Summer.
Keep telling yourself that.
Gabriel wiped sweaty palms on his khakis, started up the truck, put it in gear, and made a left onto Highway 13. As he drove, fireflies dotted the fields and ditches along the road, blinking in and out of sight. The closer he got to Strawberry Grove, the more fireflies appeared.
The sun slipped under the horizon, making his running lights visible along the blacktop. Great. Just great. How was he supposed to find her?
Light glowed from the forest of pine trees by the old Holland place. He slowly braked, put the truck in park, and rolled down the passenger side window, watching as the bugs blinked on and off.
Before he knew what was happening, he’d unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door, and strode into the forest. He crept through the woods, quiet as a predator hunting his prey, and then came to a sight that stole his breath away.
Summer, all alone in a meadow of spring flowers. Well, if you didn’t count the hundreds of fireflies dancing around her.
Laughing with pure joy, she waved a hand in the air. The fireflies followed her movements, reminding him of kids playing with sparklers on the Fourth of July.
His gut clenched.
The fireflies continued their dance, moths joining in. Something swept passed him. He followed the blur and realized it was a bat, mostly likely trying to eat the conveniently provided snack.
Summer laughed again, drawing his attention back to her. She threw out her arms and spun around. He felt himself drift closer, like he was one of those moths… and she the flame.
“Summer.” Her name a prayer on his lips. A plea in his heart.
“What do you want?” Summer snapped. “I gave you back your truck.”
He paused at the vehemence in her tone. “Thank you, but I wanted to check on you and make sure you got home okay.”
He fully expected her to ask who would be checking on him, because he lived by himself. Instead, she tilted her head, giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”
“Can I walk you home?”
“Where’s your truck?”
“I left it on the road.” He nodded his head to the right.
The moon came out from behind the clouds, illuminating the field to near daylight.
She scrunched her nose. “Someone could steal it.”
“Maybe they need it more than me,” he replied.
“Good Samaritans have nothing on you.”
He shrugged. “When people are desperate, they do desperate things. Those of us who can help, should.”
Wrong thing to say. “You Jesus freaks amaze me.” She crossed her arms. “But you do give good lip service.”
Irritation rose, making his jaw clench before he answered. “Was it lip service to let you drive off with my truck all those years ago?”
“Let me?” She shook her head and smiled. “Angel, you had no idea what I was going to do that night.”
“Really?” He crossed his arms and stared down at the lovely face highlighted by the moonlight. “Let’s think about this—the gas pump only takes pre-pays. I chose to go inside to buy a bottle of Cheerwine.”
Her smile faltered and a pink tongue licked at her lips. “So, you’re saying…”
“I’m saying I’d give anyone in need the clothes off my back.” He uncrossed his arms. “Including you.” Especially her. Always her. No matter how much it hurt when she threw it back in his face.
“I don’t want your pity or your charity. I don’t need anything from anyone, especially you.”
White-hot fury rose, but he remained calm. He had to, or he’d lose control of the situation. “I just need to know why you’re here. I know what you said, but honey, you’ve never stayed longer than a year at a time, since you turned eighteen.”
If he had a time limit, he could stay away from her. Keep his personal life going—one that didn’t involve the woman standing in front of him. The woman with pretty, dark eyes and pale, blond hair. The woman who’d clawed his heart out at every turn, yet he kept offering it up on a platter.
A frown pulled down the corners of his mouth.
“Why do you care?” She leaned forward, placing a hand on his cheek. “Afraid I’ll steal you away from Elise?”
Yes. Only it wouldn’t be stealing. More than likely, he’d go with her, willingly. Some things never changed, but he could. “You know what—I don’t care. Stay as long as you like. Do whatever you like. You don’t need my permission, and you’re not that damn irresistible.” Turning, he marched away from her.
Summer’s eyes grew wide. Oh God, no. His disapproval she could handle. His infuriatingly calm manner she could handle. But an indifferent Gabriel? The one who’d been ignoring her all week… “Wait.”
Still, he strode away.
“Gabriel, please.”
That made him stop.
She ran to him, and then around to face him.
A cool night breeze whispered through the pine trees. The sound of crickets chirping and the steady rattling of locust blended to create a symphony so soothing that Summer almost forgot where she was. Almost.
In a loose tie, button-down shirt, and khaki pants, Gabriel was her fantasy come to life. Not that she’d ever let him in on it. No, she preferred to let him think that her type rode into town on a Harley and out of it, with her on the back.
He gazed at her, expectation on his face. But what could she say—don’t leave me? Please keep caring about me, because you’re the only one in the entire world who does?
Maybe she needed to be truthful for once. Maybe she needed to quit saying the most outrageous and hurtful things to him.
Taking a leap of faith, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard what I said.” No way would she repeat herself. It was bad enough she’d apologized in the first place. It was bad enough that she was lowering her defenses.
“I forgive you.” Simple, but powerful words.
“The reason why I’m here is because I miss my family. I’d like to be a part of one again.” Growing up with a mother like Azalea, a woman who came and went as frequently as the tides, Summer had always dreamed of a home. Of family meals at a table set for four. A husband that would come in the door with a kiss for her, while he tried to navigate the room with two rugrats stuck to his legs.
After dinner, this fictional man would ask about her day while they did the dishes. Then they’d make love… in a bed with a mattress made of down feathers.
Yeah, she was all kinds of screwed up for her deepest, most guarded, secrets to be so traditionally boring.
“Nothing wrong with that at all. I’m happy you want to reconnect with Rose and Ivy.” Taking her hand, he said, “Let me drive you the rest of the way home.”
“Okay.” But she pulled her hand away.
His dark brows drew together, but he didn’t say anything, merely started walking to the edge of the woods. She followed him.
The moon might be as bright as day in the field, but the forest was another matter altogether, so she stayed close. Close enough to touch him. Tempting her to slide her arm through that triangular gap between his elbow and lean body.
If she was really honest, she was even more tempted to slide her hands all over him, to learn the hard planes and new muscles that hadn’t been there when they were teenagers, or even four years ago, when he would have held her hand while they walked. Back when he looked at her like she’d hung the Corn Planting Moon in the sky.
Now Elise would be the one who hung the moon for Gabriel.
Stopping at the edge of the highway, she glanced at him. Gabriel stood, phone in his hand and his thumbs moving. “Carlos is on his way.”
There was a tiny prick at her heart, but she breathed through the pain. Besides, it was ridiculous to think he would want spend more time with her. She never made it easy for anyone to be around her, not even her sisters. Turning away, she eyed the silver truck idling in the middle of the road.
“Taking your truck?”
“That’s the plan.”
Beams of light made her eyes squint. She put up a hand to shade them.
“Gabriel, let’s go! We don’t have all night,” a man called out.
“Yeah, can’t have Carlos out too late, or Shelia won’t be able to display his nuts in her trophy case tomorrow morning.”
“Watch it, Noah. There’s a lady present,” Gabriel laughed, and then looked at her. “Sorry about the language.”
For some reason, the thought of him classifying her as a lady gave her pleasure, maybe even a little pride. “I’ve heard worse.”
He stepped closer to her, brushing the strand of hair that kept falling in her face. “Doesn’t matter. You deserve to be treated with respect.”
A thrill ran through her body. Hugging him seemed exactly the right thing to do, but she gave him her brightest smile instead. “Have fun, angel. Don’t forget to tip your stripper in singles.” Then she turned, but a warm hand on her arm guided her in the opposite direction.
“Truck’s this way, sweetheart. I told you I’d drive you home, but Carlos showed up before I could. ” Another thrill at his touch, at his endearment. She was losing her ever-loving mind. This was Gabriel: he was like this to everyone.
Opening the door, he waited for her to climb inside. She stared at him, then the truck, and then back at him. Her brows were practically a part of her hairline. “But—but I thought y’all were taking your truck.”
“We are.” He grinned and pointed to the red truck a few feet in front of them. “What do you think I’ve been driving all this time?”
Speechless, she climbed in the cab and let him shut the door behind her. As the interior lights dimmed, she mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him. His grin widened before he jogged to his waiting friends. She could hear them laughing and calling each other names as he jumped inside.
The red truck took off, leaving her behind. She gripped the steering wheel, staring after the tail lights until she couldn’t see them anymore.
“One day I’ll pay you back, angel,” she said softly, with absolutely no malice in her words or meaning. “One day you’ll see me and only smile, then go on with your life.”
Chapter Seven
Pellum & Foster was the newest and smallest law office in Holland Springs, but had an extremely large and powerful branch down in Wilmington, which was exactly why Summer had chosen to make an appointment with them.
“I’ve reviewed the adoption paperwork, and frankly, Ms. Holland, you don’t have a case,” Ms. Foster began. “The minor child—”
“Ivy,” Summer corrected.
Ms. Foster smiled. “Ivy has been visited by DSS over the years, and they’ve found no evidence of neglect or abuse. In fact, the—Ivy is very-well taken care of, but I suppose this isn’t news to you.”
“No, it’s not.” Summer shook her head. “I wouldn’t have asked Rose for help if I’d thought otherwise. But I was desperate and most likely suffering from post-partum depression.” At least, that was what Gabriel had told her. He had also given her the name of a therapist, but she’d torn that card into pieces. Why should she go talk to someone when she was perfectly able to solve her own problem?
“Be that as it may, you have limited resources, no place to stay, and you’re unmarried. Three very big strikes against you.” Ms. Foster wasn’t unkind as she said this. She was to the point, which was exactly what Summer had wanted. “You also swore you weren’t under duress when you signed away your parental rights to Ivy.”
She’d lied. Oh God, she had lied. She had been under so much duress that she was about to crack, but at the time, it was the right thing to do for Ivy and for herself.
“I realize that, but you can see for yourself that I’ve never been fired from a job, and I only quit when I had to move.” Summer brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes. “My references are all there, and they’re really good. Finding a permanent place to stay shouldn’t be a problem, and it’s not like I want to take my daughter away from here. I plan to live in Holland Springs, but as Ivy’s mother, not her aunt.”
Ms. Foster said nothing.
“Please, just give me the best case scenario of getting Ivy back. What would I have to do on my end?”
“Find a permanent residence, one that you don’t mind being inspected by DSS, the Fire Chief, and a whole host of people who will work in the best interest of Ivy. You already have a job, but do you think Mrs. Holland will allow you to keep working there once she finds out what you’re planning?”
“Rose made me co-owner.” Ms. Foster blinked, and Summer had the grace to blush. “I helped start the company.”
“Interesting,” the woman said, and then continued. “Even with all of those taken care of, there is still the matter of your relationship status.”
“Single women raise children all the time.”
“The court isn’t concerned with other single women. They will be concerned with you. Short of finding a man who walks on water to be your husband, I’m afraid your odds of getting custody of Ivy are slim to none. Honestly, your odds are practically non-existent, no matter what you do.”
A man who walked on water? Summer smiled. There was only one man who fit the bill—Gabriel Edwards. And she didn’t care about practically non-existent odds, because practically mean there was still a chance she could prevail. “That shouldn’t be difficult at all.”
