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…”