“Oh, my God.”
“You said that too. Several times. Each time you crested your peak.” he added. “And when did you become such a dirty little talker? The Carrie Ann I remember never talked like that.”
“I’m not. I mean…I don’t.” Carrie Ann really didn’t want to know what she’d said, but before she could stop herself she questioned warily, “What did I say?”
Burying a brazen grin behind his burger, he said, “You should eat.”
A cold numbness rushed through her veins. Pinching a spear of asparagus between her fingers, she asked, “I’m so confused. Does anybody know where I am?”
“We spoke with your assistant before leaving the auction. You’re on vacation…or at least that’s what you told me a dozen times. I’m assuming that’s true because Sara rattled off a check list of her responsibilities for the next few days. I texted Shayla a few times to let her know we were together and going on a million dollar vacation.”
Mouth full of burger, her eyes broadened in a questioning manner.
“Hey, don’t even look at me like that. You were totally into me, Carrie Ann. You were like, ‘Oh, my God. We need to call Shayla. She’s gonna freak out.’” He shrugged innocently. “I figured you had a buzz from the champagne, but I didn’t realize you’d been drugged till after we got in the air.”
“Drugged?” she choked.
“Definitely. That guy, Jason, must’ve roofied your drink. I should’ve kicked his ass.”
“There’s no way. Jason wouldn’t do that. He’s friends with my father. Why would he risk doing that?”
“To get in your fucking pants, that’s why!” Dense muscles corded down his forearm, balling his hand into a fist. “By the way I guess now’s as good as time as any to tell you…you phoned your father from the airport to tell him you were going on vacation with me for a week.”
It took every muscle in her esophagus, and three tries, to swallow back the acid burning in her throat. “Shit. As if things couldn’t get any worse.”
“Yeah, that’s about how it went down. I guess you could say he wasn’t very happy.”
Summer’s face was hard and shadowed. She knew he was furious, but hid it. The magnitude of the last twenty hours weighed on her shoulders like a wet blanket. She felt drained and exhausted. They sat in silence, each taking a few bites.
“What did he say?”
He slid her a slow, very telling, sideways glance of repugnance. After a few moments of quiet, he snickered triumphantly, “You told him you felt like a million bucks.”
She couldn’t hold back a smile. When Summer’s football career fell apart, people on the outside only saw the final collapse. Her father stood at the front of the ‘I told you so’ line, joyfully watching him implode. A drunken photo, a fight outside a sports bar, the angry ESPN interview. No one saw the slow private decay of the man. No one except Carrie Ann. She felt helpless, left to watch as the man she loved and so badly tried to help, suffer through an excruciating inner turmoil that nearly ruined him.
The only future Summer had ever dreamed of was ripped from his grasp in one devastating moment on the twenty-five yard line. His entire career gone in the matter of seconds. Fame and fortune paled in comparison to the despondency he endured losing the one thing in his life that mattered most. Football. He loved the game. Growing up in rural Illinois, he excelled under the Friday night lights. Summer exceeded everyone’s expectations, receiving a full-ride scholarship to USC. It wasn’t merely his family cheering him on, it was an entire community. Losing the most prominent thing in Ryan Summer’s life, eroded away at his soul. It dug deep, erasing the man he thought he was destined to be.
An underlying energy hung between them. She remained quiet watching him clean up the kitchen, following him into the living room when he finished.
“Thank you for dinner.” She tucked a foot beneath her bum, snuggling into the rich leather sofa.
“Stomach feeling any better?” he asked, stacking three logs with precision and striking the lighter to what looked like a cupcake made from wood chips and sawdust. Summer raised to his full height, stretching an arm out, pressing his palm against the mantel. Colored shadows of the rising flame, danced against his masculine frame.
“Yeah. My throat’s still a little sore.” She scowled. “How did you know I had a sore throat?”
“You threw up.” He said matter-of-factly. “In my plane. On the runway. In the bathroom. I just assumed you’d be feeling pretty awful today.”
“Oh, man.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I keep thinking this can’t get any worse, but…I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. That was the easiest part of the whole flight. Telling you no repeatedly was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”
Examining her stunned expression, he mercifully remained quiet, lowering himself to the other end of the sofa. She wasn’t ready to even ask or know or absorb what occurred during the flight.
“Do you really think I was roofied?” Even as the question left her lips, Carrie Ann knew the answer was yes. She found it difficult to imagine Jason would drug her. It just didn’t add up. “It could’ve been anyone.”
“He’s the one who handed you the drink, Carrie Ann. There’s no doubt in my mind it was him.”
“I wonder how long it stays in my system. I should probably get blood work done when I get home.”
“By the time we get back next week, it’ll be out of your system.”
The haughty lop-sided grin hanging at the edge of his mouth evoked a visceral defiance. “I am not staying here with you for a week, Summer. I don’t know what I said earlier, but that doesn’t count. You can’t seriously expect me to stay here.”
Hearing Carrie Ann’s raised voice, Aspen came to her aid, plopping her front paws on the sofa cushion. Carrie Ann lifted her to her lap, receiving ten quick licks and twenty tail wiggles before setting her back on the floor. The pup stood on her hind legs stretching two paws on the leather again. Before Summer had time to scold her, Carrie Ann snapped her fingers, holding her palm out flat, inches from the puppy’s nose. Aspen responded instantly to her direction by sitting on command, drawing a mystified frown from her master.
“I hate to disappoint you, but you’re stuck here with me.” He didn’t look disappointed. “This storm has us stranded and it’s expected to be socked in for days. I’m on vacation. You wanted to come. Actually, you came multiple times.”
Cocky. Mother. Fucker.
“You insisted on vacationing together, claiming it was fate.” Easing closer, he stretched a beefy arm across the top of the sofa, twisting to tuck a bare foot under his other thigh. “And before you sit there and get all pissed off, you should know that whatever drug you were given might as well have been called truth serum, because last night you, Carrie Ann Lowell, were a very open book.”
The weighted air between them crackled with emotion. Wearing her heart on her sleeve to expose the softer-side was not in her temperament. She preferred to keep it locked away in a vault for safe keeping. A sense of panic swelled in her chest wondering how much she revealed. There was a piece of her past, buried deep inside, that she vowed never to share with him.
After having her heart filleted wide open by the only man she’d ever loved, Carrie Ann determinedly locked it away, keeping it safe from irrevocable damage. Trust was the one thing she expected from Summer. And he crushed any faith she had in him, robbing himself any chance he ever had with her. His reckless actions also ripped away her hopes and dreams, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. He wasn’t there when she needed him the most and the pain and loss she experienced was immeasurable. He left her no choice. She wrapped her shattered heart in armor and forced herself to move forward. Breathing, day after day. Month by month. Year after year. But even after all the time that had passed, she’d never truly healed.