Текст книги "A Taste of Summer"
Автор книги: Beverly Preston
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
“You did?”
“I did.” He held a small diamond pinched between his fingers. “I’ve held on to this for all these years. At first I kept it because I just couldn’t bear to let go of the thought of not having you beside me for the rest of my life, but then…I held on to it in hopes I’d be offering it to you in a moment exactly like this.”
Her heart swelled as big tears rolled down her cheeks. He seemed to struggle with an internal thought, but only for a brief moment, showering her with a sexy grin as he dropped to one knee. The blush on his face shone through the darkness.
“I know it’s soon, but I don’t want to waste another moment, another day, another night. We’ve already endured nearly four thousand nights apart, I don’t want to waste one more. Carrie Ann Lowell, you steal the very breathe from my lungs every time I see you smile. The way you love me…so perfectly, blows my mind.” The blaze of adoration in his eyes, transfixed her. “You mean the world to me. It would be my privilege if you’d allow me the honor of being your everything. Marry me, Red?”
“You’re already my everything. You always have been. We just got lost for a while.” She made a pass at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”
Summer rose to his feet, slipping the band made of white gold on her finger. The solitaire diamond sparkled in the moonbeam shining between them. He raised the back of her hand to his lips. “Don’t get too attached. I plan on adding this diamond to a different setting.”
“I don’t care about the ring, Summer,” she insisted.
Summer’s fingers tangled in the silky locks of her hair. He took her mouth with erotic gentleness, the kiss tasting of salt and heat. Finishing the kiss with a gentle nuzzle, he whispered, “I love you, Red.”
She began a slow descent, placing strategic kisses down the center of his hard stomach, shedding him of his jeans. Licking and nibbling, enveloped in his scent, she resisted his insistent tugging on her arms, whispering, “I love you. I want to taste you.”
A long purr resonating in her throat enticed him to comply, parting her lips to lick the hard, silky flesh. She took him into the warm suction of her mouth, loving him, tasting him, devouring him. Glancing upward, she grinned, seductively behind his broad tip.
“Christ, that’s it, Red. No more fucking around. I need to make love to you. Now.” His self-control vanished, clasping her by the arms and hauling her to the bed.
Grappling roughly, her clothes were stripped from her body in a feverish rush and strewn across the room. His fingers dug into her thighs, pinning them wide open. The dominating mood drew a low groan. Summer parted her wet flesh with one swipe of his tongue, just one, only one, before crawling up her body. She gasped as he buried himself inside in one strong thrust. He withdrew to the tip, plunged again, rooting deep.
There would be time for sweet tenderness, but at that moment Carrie Ann was engulfed in a sensory overload, urgent to hurry the rhythm. Her hips rocked upward to firmly greet him, but Summer set the pace, reining in his rush. He spoke in a dreamlike tone, telling her how much he loved her, how good he was going to treat her, how much he wanted to start a family.
Stringing her tight, he withdrew slowly, rolling her on her stomach. His hands slicked over the thin film of moisture on her back, gripping her hips, teasing her, torturing her before giving her full penetration. He hunched over her, gently, tenderly, his teeth closed over the curve of her shoulder. His fingers moved beneath her, turning precise circles over her wet center, pursuing her pleasure.
He was all around her, inside her, taking ownership of her mind, body and soul. Words tumbled from her mouth I love you. Now, Summer, yes. He responded to each pulse of her muscles, quickening his thrusts. With every withdraw he shunted deeper, taking her higher, cresting a summit she’d never climbed. Sheer ecstasy.
His body jerked, contracting with his own release. Rejoicing in the delivery of slick heat, her strength disintegrated, collapsing on the bed. Holding his weight, he lowered over her. His mouth touched her back, sending shivers down her spine. Summer eased them to their sides, coiling his arms around her, petting and stroking. Their breathing began to regulate as the tremors diminished, leaving them in a sedated state of rapture. They stared at each other, smiling, allowing the realization to sink in.
Summer’s fingers speared through the silky strands of her hair. His simmering gaze drifted over her in a slow pleasing inspection. Carrie Ann tucked her toes between his calves, playing with the soft hair. Not giving one thought to the slickness between her thighs.
“I’m going to be so good to you. Forever, Red. Forever.”
Chapter Fourteen
‡
In the chaos of the weeks that followed, Ryan Summer and Carrie Ann Lowell became known to the world as Ry-Ann.
As much as they loved spending quiet nights at home, Summer loved taking her out. And paparazzi followed then everywhere. He was accustomed to a sea of cameras pointed at his face, but it took some getting used to for Carrie Ann. There were no secret agendas or games played for the benefit of publicity. Summer simply refused to let anything get in his way of living his life, their life, as a couple.
They enjoyed romantic dinners, days at the beach, a concert, all under the watchful scrutiny of the public eye. Amidst all the madness, Carrie Ann relished every day that followed, each one more than the day before. Summer was polished yet rugged, warm and funny yet brilliantly smart and perceptive. Not only was he an icon on the silver screen, he was savvy and hard-nosed when it came to the business side of his career. Layers peeled back, little by little, exposing his generosity, poignant and telling, yet never brash or showy.
Carrie Ann previously arranged for two weeks of vacation, which she easily extended to a three, thanks to months of accrued holiday leave and sick days. Luckily, her schedule wasn’t pressing and work would wait for a few more weeks. However, her father was another story.
Every time Carrie Ann sent a text to her dad, attempting to get together, he brushed her off using work as an excuse. Summer agreed to keep their engagement private until she could share the news with her father. It would be a delicate subject and one she had no intention of handling via a text message or phone call.
However, they made one exception, immediately phoning Shayla and John the next morning. Cheers of misty emotions and sappy congratulations erupted like a corked bottle of bubbly on New Year’s Eve. Smiles filled the small cellphone screen as the couples celebrated via Facetime making it a breakfast to remember. They promised to get together for a double date, or a weekend getaway as soon as their schedules permitted.
Carrie Ann left another message for her father, the fourth one in two days. “Dad, I’d appreciate it if you could make time to have lunch or dinner with me. I need to talk to you. It’s important.” She received a text several hours later, indicating he was bogged down with a case and couldn’t give her a definitive day or time.
“Maybe I should’ve learned how to golf,” she grumbled, shaking her head in disappointment.
“He knows what’s coming, Carrie Ann. He’ll either accept it or he won’t. For your sake, I hope he does. Maybe he needs this time to come to terms with the idea.”
“Yeah, well, what he needs is to pull his head out of his ass. He’s actually pissing me off. The man is not too busy to see me, he just uses work as an excuse not to deal with me. He always has.”
“It’s just his way, Red. He’s not exactly a warm and fuzzy kind of guy.”
“Are you standing up for him?”
“Absolutely not! He’s dug his own hole, now he gets to figure out how to climb out.” Summer pressed a kiss of affection to her bare shoulder. “I simply refuse to be the driving wedge between you and you father. I’m sure that’s what he’s hoping for and I won’t give him the pleasure of letting him come between us.”
Confronting Jason proved to be nearly as difficult as calling her father. With Summer by her side, Carrie Ann curtly recapped the issue regarding her champagne being roofied, highlighting the important detail that he was the one who handed her the drink.
After ten full seconds of silence, cold enough to turn water to ice, Jason responded, “I have no idea how your drink got drugged. Are you implying that I spiked your drink?” Though he tried to filter the anger in his voice, the resentment and shock came through loud and clear. “Maybe you should be questioning Ryan. He’s the guy you went home with…not me.”
“I’m not implying anything, Jason,” The surety in her tone nonexistent, speaking into the small speaker of her cellphone resting in the palm of her hand.
Summer promptly interjected, “Jason, this is Ryan. I’m sitting right here with Carrie Ann. We’re trying to get to the bottom of this. I’m sure you can understand the seriousness of the situation. The fact is, Carrie Ann had two glasses of champagne and you were the person who handed her the drinks. Against my suggestion, she wanted to talk with you before going to the authorities.”
A hint of compunction slithered across her shoulder, giving a sideways glance to Summer. He was so adamant about Jason’s guilt, yet she still refused to believe Jason would drug her. Or anyone else for that matter. He was a genuinely nice guy…or so she thought. Summer’s insistence was muddied by a streak of jealously and a rigid dose of protectiveness. Which to her own surprise turned her on more than she’d care to admit.
“Look, I understand how it looks, but it wasn’t me. What do you want from me? If my word isn’t good enough, I’d be more than happy to take a lie detector test.” Jason’s voice rose in a threatening manner. “I mean it. Set it up. I’ll go take the damn test today. But if I hear one word of this shit through any social circle…or the fucking media…or if I have to get drug into this for any reason, there are going to be consequences. I won’t stand back and get accused of something I had nothing to do with.”
She felt confused and conflicted, not knowing what to believe. Jason’s response was so conclusive, plus he insisted on taking the lie detector test. Summer and Carrie Ann locked eyes. He refused to give Jason the benefit of the doubt. However, his own name had been drug through the dirt on several occasions, leaving him cautious.
“I’ll have it set up,” Summer announced tersely. “And it will be completely private.”
Carrie Ann felt torn, tempted to apologize for the inconvenience before they hung up, but didn’t get the chance. The call was ended on a very awkward goodbye, anger and frustration stewed on both sides.
All of Carrie Ann’s belongings had been delivered to Summer’s house a few days after they returned from Montana, but it took a week for her to unload the boxes. She didn’t harbor deep attachments for the majority of her furniture, taking most of the large pieces to a consignment boutique. Everything except her mother’s antique writing desk made of mahogany and mongo wood.
At one time the desk acted as a catch-all in her bedroom, but with a little help from Summer and a fresh coat of stain, it now showed as the main focal point in her new office. Carrie Ann confiscated the smallest of three guest rooms, touting unobstructed ocean vistas, turning it into a perfect place for her to conduct her business.
Sitting beneath the verandah one evening, they snuggled on an outdoor sofa in front of a fire, watching the sun sink into the ocean. “Thank you for helping me spruce up my mom’s old desk. It’ll be nice to have a part of her with me all the time.”
“You’re more than welcome.” Summer clinked the tumbler glass dangling from his fingers to her wine glass. Lifting the clear glass to his lips, he wiggled his pinky. A rock the size of Gibraltar was squeezed onto the tip of his thick finger. Her eyes popped wide, nearly choking on her wine. A low sexy chuckle simmered in his throat as a cocky grin tipped the corners of his mouth.
“Fuck. Fuckity-fuck. Oh, my God.” Her hand flew to her mouth in awe, staring at a very large, brilliant, oval diamond.
“I take it you like it?” His voice coated in sex appeal, slipping the platinum band on her finger.
“Well, yes, of course.” Shock sent her words into a breathy ramble. “I mean, whoa, Summer, this is too much. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. It’s absolutely breathtaking.”
“It is breathtaking…just like you.” He brought her fingers to his lips. “It stopped me in my tracks and I kept coming back to it. That’s how I knew it was the perfect ring.”
“I don’t even want to know what you spent on this,” she mumbled, holding it in the moonlight. “But, where’s the other ring? I need that ring. Please don’t tell…”
He handed off his glass of whiskey, reaching behind the nape of his neck to unclasp a necklace. Summer draped a thin delicate chain made of white gold along his opened hand. “I had the jeweler make a few changes.”
Carrie Ann twisted and he slipped it around her neck. The precious stone fell precisely into the nook of her voluptuous cleavage. The corner of his mouth curved upward in an indulgent grin. Happiness radiated through her core, warming her all over, as she peered downward. A misty film glazed over her eyes causing her to blink back the sentiment.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the ring, but this…” She touched her fingers to the diamond between her breasts. “This means the world to me.” Holding her hand out to the moonlight, she continued, “It’s so big.”
“Christ, I love it when you say that.” He growled, pulling her in for a tumultuous kiss.
Early the next morning, she sent her father a text.
Summer asked me to marry him.
I said yes.
I wanted to tell you in person, but with you being so bogged down at work, we haven’t had a chance to talk in person. Sorry you had to hear it this way, but I didn’t want you to see it splashed all over the media. Hopefully you’ll be able to make time for me soon.
Love, Carrie Ann
*
Week four of the paparazzi frenzy, started with a fueled headline revealing Ry-Ann have an easy chemistry together which is heartening to all. She compliments him perfectly.
“Well, it’s much better than the headline two weeks ago. Bought and Paid For – Ryan’s million dollar bride. I really hated that one.” She smirked flippantly over the rim of her coffee cup. Paparazzi had besieged during their second public outing and for weeks their relationship had been both universally ridiculed and praised, sparking an all-out media feeding frenzy.
“You are a very expensive date,” he teased, blush tinged the bridge of his nose and cheeks. She swatted at him playfully and he clasped hold of her wrist, drawing her into his arms. He shifted from foot-to-foot in a slow dance, navigating around the front of her desk. Summer curled his fingers over the top of her open laptop, closing the computer, shutting out the rest of the world. “In another two weeks we’ll be old news and…”
“And the vultures will move on to their next victims. I know, I know. For the record, I think you’re dreamin’.”
The night before, mayhem erupted when they emerged from the car making their way inside a trendy LA restaurant. Summer calmly escorted her inside, while a crush of paparazzi lined the curb jockeying to get pictures of her ring. Flashes continued to strobe even after a few photographers lost their footing, feasting on some grungy LA pavement.
“We do complement each other perfectly.” He nipped her ear, investigating the sensitive slope with his teeth, probing for goosebumps.
“Perfectly,” she agreed with a pleasurable sigh, raking her fingers through his disheveled morning hair.
“Where are you off to so early this morning?”
She waved a hand down her front as if modeling her workout attire. “The gym.”
“You sure you don’t want to stay home? I promise to give you a good workout.”
“Sounds very…tantalizing, but I need to go into the office for a few hours. Unlike you, I have to go to work.” Her eyes narrowed playfully.
Since returning from vacation, she cut her work days to three. Keeping to routine, Carrie Ann hit the gym first, leaving early in hopes of cutting off the rush hour traffic. Summer didn’t make it easy. The man had far too much sex appeal and endurance at seven in the morning.
After making the hour commute, she pulled into the sparsely occupied parking lot, ready to pummel the first piece of exercise equipment available. Retrieving her favorite blue water bottle from her gym bag, she headed for the water station to fill up, running straight into Jason.
“Hey,” slipped from her mouth in an awkward squeaky tone.
“Hello, Carrie Ann.” Jason dragged a stark gaze across her face before scoping out the near vicinity. “Where’s your fiancé?”
She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she tried to reply. “He’s at home.”
“What’s he gonna do next? Try to get me kicked out of my gym?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Yes it is and don’t bother calling to apologize when the test comes back.” Steering her toward an empty corner near the water fountain, he continued, “I can’t believe you think I would do that to you. Or anyone. Or just in fucking general. And just so you know, I knew after the premier we were just friends, Carrie Ann.”
“Then why did you bother to throw down fifty grand at the auction?”
His lips remained zipped, forging a hard, telling smile. There was no need for Jason to reply, the answer was written on his face. Dad put him up to it. Bringing his face closer, talking in a low acidic tone. “I’m not sure how Ryan’s going to feel after the results come back in few days, but at least you’ll feel better.” He paused. “Or maybe not. Maybe you’ll feel worse, when you’re forced to consider all the possibilities.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, maybe you should be looking at your fiancé.”
“Summer would never…”
“And neither would I. Hell, even your old man knows it.”
“Jason…”
“Have a good workout.”
Her fists tightened securely around her water bottle as ice crystalized in her veins. It took every ounce of composure she could muster, not to chuck the twenty-four ounces of plastic at the back of his head. Anger simmered over, only it wasn’t Jason who stoked her fury. It was her father. Carrie Ann’s feet remained frozen to the floor while her mind deciphered the exact wordage she intended to unload on her dad. None of them were pretty.
Without thinking, she started toward her favorite spin bike in a brusque march. Tapping her finger aggressively to the screen, she worked through the settings, choosing the longest, most rigorous ride possible. Carrie Ann plugged in her earbuds and hopped on the bike, only to find the wire bottle holder missing. Fuck! Fuckity-fuck! Fearing an oncoming outburst, she tossed her things on the ground, shoved her feet into the toe cage and began to pedal.
Carrie Ann’s mind was numb, sitting tall, she worked through warm up stretches. She wasn’t listening to the music, she wasn’t watching the screen, or bothering with her heart rate. Her thoughts were lost, driven beyond the brink in an anger-filled daze. This was the reason her father had been avoiding her calls. If the test cleared Jason of any wrong doing, he would surely place the blame on Summer.
Tugging one arm across her chest, she drew in a deep breath filling her lungs with air. Her eyes drifted shut as she lifted her chin to the heavens, silently praying for strength and guidance to deal with her father.
Switching arms, she took another deep inhale. The scent of tobacco filled her nostrils. I must be delusional. He would never step foot in a gym. Her eyes popped open, head twisting from side-to-side, expecting to see her father’s face. She wasn’t ready. Carrie Ann needed to calm down before talking to him.
A familiar face took ownership of the bike to her right, but it wasn’t her father. She scowled, watching the man take a casual swig from her water bottle.
Taking notice of her apprehension, he gave her a half nod, gesturing for her to remove her head phones. “You look so familiar to me. Have we met before?”
Spotting her blue bottle still sitting on the ground, she holstered her ferocity, saving her explosion for the intended target…her father. Glimpsing his vivid green eyes, wide smile, and dark curly hair, she nodded, bending down to grab her water. “We’ve met before, but I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“Maybe it’s just from seeing you here at the gym.”
“Maybe,” she agreed, taking a long drink to quench her thirst.
“You look like you’re just starting your ride. You up for a friendly race?”
Pulling her towel from her handlebars, she made a pass at the sweat already dripping from her temples. Pressing a finger to the screen, she highlighted the course titled, L’Alpe d’Huez. “I’m in a bit of a mood, so it might not be a good idea.”
His eyes widened in surprise. He tossed his drink into the air, flipped the bottle end over end, before holstering it in its wire holder. Carrie Ann blinked a few times. The memory of the gun-slinging sheriff from the show at Jackson Hole flashed like a beacon.
A flirtatious grin gathered in his eyes. “Maybe another day.”
Not wanting to seem encouraging or rude, she opted for a simple, “Have a nice ride,” before plugging back in.
Giving the tension knob a full turn, Carrie Ann pushed her bum back, crouched over the handlebars, and began the ascent. Her surroundings faded into the background with every pummel of the pedal and each bend in the switch back. Her anger grew as she climbed her virtual mountain. There would be no more avoiding the subject. Carrie Ann was going to get her day in court.
An hour and forty minutes later, Carrie Ann stumbled off her spin bike. Her thighs burning and legs trembled from the intense workout. Feeling a little lethargic and dizzy, she stopped to refill her water.
The thumping in her ears kept time with her heart rate as adrenaline surged. She could barely make out a woman’s muffled voice when she spoke to Carrie Ann, pointing out that her bottle was overflowing.
Walking away, she mumbled sluggishly, “I must’ve gotten my heartrate too high.”
Fueled with determination to set her father straight, she made her way through the gym. Stepping out the front door, bright sunshine beat down on her shoulders, zapping her of energy. Her body pitched and swayed as she walked to her car.
“Whew. I must’ve overdid it,” she slurred, aiming for the handle, but missing.
Standing beside her driver’s door, Carrie Ann clung to the top of her car. She was hit with another wave of spicy tobacco. Peering downward, she tried to make out a small blurry object lying on the ground. She screwed her eyes shut and stretched them wide, concentrating on the butt of a thin cigar between her tennis shoes.
Lifting her heavy head, her gaze landed on a pair of vivid green eyes.
Sunlight began to fade as the entire parking lot narrowed in around her, slipping into the shrinking shadow.
