Finding Summer (Nightwind Book 3) Read online

  Whirling around, she leaned back into the car and stretched to reach the bag. What she brought to the skinny jeans party blew his goddamn mind. Her pert ass sent signals to his groin, and when she put a knee on the car seat to aid her endeavor, the sight of long, lithe legs made his eyes widen.

  When she finally shut the door and turned around, her drawn-out gasp got his attention. With blinking eyes and a slack jaw, she was staring at the front of his pants. The casual trousers did nothing to disguise his raging hard-on. Wearing jeans might have helped him out but no such luck.

  “That’s for you,” he boldly declared.

  Her eyes swung to his, and his heart thudded in response. She moistened her lips and took a deep breath. “This feels bad.”

  He searched her face. “Good bad or a bad bad?”

  She gave his body a slow, raking gaze. There was a sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him.

  “Bad as in, is this what feeling bad is like because it’s all kinds of wicked and hot.” She gestured at the building with a nod. “I’ve never brought a guy home to have sex. I see how you’re looking at me, Arnie.” Her smile was just this side of being a leer. “I’ve never let my bad girl side off the leash.”

  The rose gold glow he associated with the California beauty pulsed to life and reached inside his chest.

  “Ground rules are called for,” he stated with blunt precision. “Starting with you can change your mind at any time.”

  “So can you.” She challenged him with a sly look.

  “Yeah, no. Not happening.”

  The way she giggled and snorted was happy music to his ears. Everything about Summer was natural and real. He liked being around her. Liked feeling her unique energy.

  “How does this work? I need some help.”

  Every man likes to think he’s smooth and has some sort of game with the ladies. Arnie’s game appeared to consist of sounding like Butthead. He not only sniggered, “He he he,” but he did so while wearing a cartoonish expression.

  Man, he had to reel it in before things turned embarrassing.

  “How about this.” He held up the stuff in his hands. “Let’s go inside and take a deep breath. There’s no rush, and we already did the paint-by-number thing,” he reminded her by waving her painting. “So we …”

  “See what happens?” Her smile was amused.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Let’s do this,” she chirped happily. “Come on, follow me.”

  As she led him along the walkway to an interior courtyard, he watched her ass rock seductively. Nobody wore jeans like she did.

  Out of habit, his gaze swept the area and noted every detail. There were twelve units, six up and six down, with a common courtyard in the center. The second tier had balconies, and each ground floor unit had a little patio. A walkway visible at the rear probably led to the tenant’s parking garage.

  “This is me,” she told him at the door with a number five above a glass half-moon window.

  While she unlocked her door, he took in her little outdoor space. Beneath a double window sat a waist-high, three-tier mini greenhouse. She told him previously how much she liked to garden. The thought gave him a reason to smile.

  A vine-covered white trellis hanging next to the door plus a section of iron railing defined her “yard.” A single outdoor rocker told him she didn’t have a lot of company.

  Stepping into her apartment was like crossing the reality threshold. The subtle aroma of vanilla filled his nose. The first thing he saw was a pink tree decorated in twinkle lights giving off a soft glow. Next to the door was the deep ledge of a long living room window lined with plants and a humongous bowl holding a mound of crystals and rocks.

  On a console table where she dropped her keys were two substantial chunks of green agate. He felt their strong balancing energy.

  Above the table in an ornate, shabby chic frame was a beautiful photograph of a sea cove. The image stirred something inside him. He looked closer. There was a familiarity to it he couldn’t place at first.

  “Cornwall,” she murmured at his shoulder. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Merlin’s cave,” she explained as recognition blazed to life in his mind.

  “Tintagel Castle,” he murmured. “I can’t believe you have a picture of it. Have you been there?”

  The tinge of sadness in her voice touched him when she muttered, “No. Never been, but my brother has.” She pointed at the bottom left corner. “He took the picture and signed it for me.”

  Without a doubt, a substantial amount of strange shit lived in his head, including the legend and lore around Tintagel and the location of Merlin’s crystal cave. What were the odds a chance encounter with a fey girl would lead to them staring at the image?

  There were no coincidences. Right?

  Arnie glanced at her face in profile. Her eyes were focused on the unusual photograph. The golden glow around her swirled with a new energy he couldn’t quite make out.

  His heart thumped, and an unfamiliar stirring low in his gut triggered his subtle senses—the world beyond the big five. Unless he was working and it was necessary, Arnie kept his intuitive abilities on lockdown, but Summer pushed him to wander beyond the boundaries.

  She broke the enchantment building around them by pulling on his sleeve. “Let’s make a mess in the kitchen.”

  When he started to follow, his steps quickly halted as a city-sized sofa came into view. It was by far the tackiest thing he’d ever seen.

  He mumbled, amused, “Uh.”

  She glanced back and forth between his face and where he was looking. “It’s fantastic, isn’t it? I found it in a consignment store, and since people weren’t lining up for a 70s Brady Bunch-style upholstered monstrosity, they practically begged me to take it when I gave it a second look.”

  “Oh, man.” His amused smile turned to laughter. “Awesome,” he told her with enthusiastic approval.

  “Really? You like it?”

  “Hell, yeah! I like how you see the beauty in something truly, truly awful.”

  She made a face, and her eyes swept him from head to toe and back again. “It’s as if I knew someday a big man needing a big sofa would come through my door.”

  They headed into the kitchen so he could finally be relieved of the bags cutting off the circulation to his fingers. He dropped everything except the painting on the table.

  Summer took her artwork and held it up. “Yours is better.”

  “I beg to differ.” He chuckled. “You followed directions, whereas I approached the exercise in a freeform way.”

  “You added a bat signal in the sky.”

  “Yeah”—he sniggered—“and it’s gonna look badass in my office.”

  Smiling at each other felt as natural as breathing. He wanted to lose himself in her energy and learn what made her tick.

  “What’s in the bags?” she asked.

  Before he had a chance to react to the question, she dumped the booty from his CVS shopping spree onto the table. A can of whipped cream rolled to the edge, but she scooped it up before it went crashing to the floor.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she managed to bark in a choking laugh. “Is this normal first-time equipment?”

  “You have a dirty mind,” he scolded in a mocking way. “The whipped cream is for the animal crackers.”

  “Animal crackers?”

  He dug through the stuff and produced the iconic animal-shaped cookies in a distinctive red box. She regarded him with smirking amusement.

  “What?” he drawled. “You’ve never filled your mouth with tigers and added a shot of aerosol?”

  She snorted with laughter. “No!”

  “Well, then you’re in for a treat.”

  She ripped the cap off the whipped cream, shook it, stuck out her tongue, and dropped her head back. When she upended the can and released a stream of white into her mouth, his dick elbowed him in the ribs and asked if he was paying attention.

  “What else ya got
?” she asked through a mouthful of cream.

  When he didn’t immediately answer, she prodded him for a response. “Arnie?”

  “Oh, um, yeah.” He couldn’t think straight—not with all her lip licking and pleasured moans.

  Without waiting, she began to rummage through the snacks and other items. The face mask made her blush. So did the container of lube. But it was the magnum condoms drawing her interest.

  “I didn’t know there were sizes,” she mumbled.

  His response? “He he he.”

  Shit! He squeezed his eyes shut and scolded the horny teenager inside him to shut the fuck up.

  She turned the box over in her hands, studied it, and frowned. “There’s no chart. How do you know?”

  “Chart?”

  He didn’t understand.

  “Yeah, a size chart. You can’t just say something is XL without explaining what it means.”

  Was she joking? Her innocent and curious expression suggested she was completely serious.

  “Um, I think it’s a matter of personal preference.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Arnie felt a rush of heat climb his neck and bloom on his face. Condom sizing wasn’t a subject he’d had much experience discussing.

  “So, wait,” she interjected. “Does this mean if I’d gone to the store and grabbed whatever off the rack, it might have been too small?”

  He tried to swallow, but the action became a gulp.

  She waved the box as she asked the question. Her demeanor was straightforward and matter-of-fact.

  And of course, she kept on talking.

  “Bit of a buzzkill, wouldn’t you say? Squeezing XL into a petite size?”

  “Uh, well, and there’s always the other side of the coin.” His heated blush triggered neck sweat. Sweat he tried to ignore. “Little dicks and big condoms,” he added by way of an explanation.

  “This is above my virgin pay grade,” she announced with raised brows. “But back to the sizing. How do you know? Is it like trying on shoes? Do you wait until something comes up and then see what fits?”

  Jesus. She wasn’t going to let this go.

  He snatched the box from her hands. “These babies also come with a smug alert,” he told her. “Like a fancy car, the XLs come with bragging rights. But there’s a whole thing involved with using them.”

  Her eyes widened, and she hung on his words.

  Fuck. He wasn’t expecting to have to take her to condom school. The sound he made was a blend of grunt, groan, and sigh.

  He grit his teeth and quickly spit out an explanation.

  “Put it on too soon, and slipping off is a real possibility. You have to wait until things are …” He paused.

  “Hard? Is that it? With a smuggy XL, it’s more about filling than stretching?”

  Laughing was all he could do. “Condom mechanics are a real thing.” He gave her a self-conscious smirk. “And for the record, there aren’t really sizes.”

  “Well, there should be,” she cried indignantly. “What if you just thought your penis was big, but it really isn’t? How would you know?”

  Oh, my god. Now they were discussing penis size.

  “Where’s your phone?” he asked.

  She dug in her purse and pulled it out.

  “Go to the internet and type what size penis fits Magnum XL condom.”

  You’d think from her eagerness and interest that they were researching car prices or some other big deal.

  “Got it,” she mumbled.

  He waited while she read and felt one hell of a satisfied punch when she finished and gaped at him with an open mouth.

  “Um, are these measurements for real?” Her eyes dipped to his zipper, and he fought to hang on to his composure.

  “Pretty much,” he replied with a shrug.

  Arnie knew damn well what measurements she was gasping over. There wasn’t a guy alive who hadn’t studied the chart or seen the illustrative diagram.

  She made a circle with her thumb and index finger. Her eyes darted to the Astroglide lubricant. He could feel her excitement and tension—the combination was potent.

  “It won’t come to that,” he assured her. “I grabbed it just in case.”

  “Should I be scared?”

  “Depends on what you’re imagining, though I get why you’re asking since all previous experiences have been less than stellar.” He smoothed his fingers along the side of her face and spoke in a gentle, reassuring way.

  “I’m not interested in fucking you, Summer. What I have in mind is so much more than open legs and insert here. If it pleases you, it pleases me, and I admit the idea of making love is a turn-on I hadn’t expected.”

  “Can two people with an instant attraction and a history of just forty-eight hours make love? Is that even possible, or am I kidding myself?”

  “Yes, it’s possible,” he boldly asserted.

  “And you know this from experience?”

  “Absolutely not. This is different. You are different. And as I said, if you have doubts, we don’t have to go any further.”

  Her face was beautifully expressive. He smiled gently.

  “Summer, something’s happening between us. Rushing you into bed isn’t how I saw our relationship unfolding.” He touched his chest above his heart. “What’s going on here is more important.”

  He wasn’t full of shit. He also wasn’t just saying nice words to get into her panties, and no one was more surprised by this than he was. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in love. He did. His parents loved one another, but when his mom died, and Dad hooked up with the nanny, life pulled back the curtain on marriage and showed him how fucked up things could get. He wasn’t trying to be a douche by assuming affairs of the heart would not be something he’d have to concern himself with.

  Boy, was he wrong. Summer was all heart. There wasn’t anything phony about how she felt. His conscience urged caution and suggested figuring out what the hell he was doing might be a good idea.

  He needed to release some energy to stay clear and focused. Quickly. Kissing her would be a bad idea because the minute he touched her, there’d be no stopping, so he went with plan B and pulled the plug on the condom issue.

  “Grab two small bowls, and I’ll show you a new way to enjoy animal crackers.”

  She giggled and jumped to do his bidding. Her eagerness to try new things turned him on in a big way.

  “Let’s do this in the living room,” she said with two small dessert dishes in her hands. “What good is having a space station-sized sofa if you don’t put it to use?”

  He was thirty-seven goddamn years old and had done some stuff and seen a lot of crazy shit in his time. But nothing was funnier or more absolutely natural than seeing Summer navigate the sofa by gracefully swinging her legs and butt over the curved back and sinking onto a cushion.

  “Okay, so I have to ask,” he laughingly drawled after walking around the damn sofa and stopping at her knees. “Were you a gymnast at some point?”

  Smiling broadly, she patted the cushion beside her and motioned for him to sit.

  “Why, yes.” She chuckled. “Yes, I was. High school stuff but you never lose the moves.”

  “The beach cartwheels and playground antics clued me in.”

  Joy bubbled in her laughter and twinkled in her eyes. The halo of energy surrounding her popped and sparked like a bonfire.

  Yeah, no problem, he thought. I can’t be burned. Nothing to worry about.

  “Unfocused energy,” she said with a dry tone. “Sometimes, I bounce from thing to thing.”

  Her half-shrug was intriguing. He supposed not everyone in Summer’s life was as exuberant and nonstop as she was.

  “I was the queen of after-school activities. Gymnastics, field hockey, and the track team.”

  “You’re a runner?”

  She shuddered. “Oh, god, no. Running is …” She made a face and searched for words. “Stupid,” she finally drawled. “Boring. Monotonous. Not
my thing. Although, if you challenge me to a race, I guarantee you I’ll win.”

  “Boxing was my thing. Still is, I suppose.”

  “Marquess of Queensberry boxing or fight club stuff?”

  He snickered. “Whatever left me the last man standing. It’s been my experience rules don’t always meet the occasion.”

  Shaking the can, he pointed the nozzle into each dessert dish and made a cloud of whipped cream while Summer ripped open the box of cookies. He took a bear cookie and dipped it into the cream. “No rules for this, though. Dip, swirl, scoop. Whatever floats your dinghy.”

  She poked around in the cookies and held up an elephant. “I’ll dip Dumbo.”

  When they each had a cream-covered cookie, they laughed and tapped them together to make a toast.

  “To trying new things,” he saluted.

  Her smile grew. “Yes, yes! To virgin experiences!”

  The girl was incredible.

  He waited expectantly while she took her first bite of the old-time treat. Before he and his brother grew up and went their separate ways, Arnie had fond memories of devouring animal crackers and whipped cream with Stan until their bellies complained.

  Stuffing the entire tiger into his mouth, Arnie watched Summer’s every move and gauged her reaction.

  His mind exploded with dirty thoughts when she flicked at the cream with her tongue. Her pleasured moan turned him on.

  She put the cookie in her mouth and snapped off a bite. Chewing and moaning in appreciation, she licked the cream from her lips and nodded at him. Pleasure shone in her eyes. “Oh, my.”

  Her giggle did him in. Without any care or hesitation, he handed over his heart, knowing full well there’d be no takebacks or do-overs. Since he wasn’t built to give away his emotions so easily, surrendering without a fight felt like destiny.

  An odd sensation made his neck and ears tingle. He heard his mother’s voice, a voice there was no way he could remember, and froze.

  “Summer love. How perfect.”

  The ground beneath him gave way, and his emotions went into a free fall. Years of practice controlling supersensory input could not save him from an emotional avalanche.

  She melted into the sofa with a groan and put on a pantomime of orgasmic delight over her first taste of the childhood treat.