Page 12 of No Place Like Home (Orlinda Valley #3)

Summer

W e had just left Tonya’s and were on our way back to our house.

Well, not our house. Kora’s. Whatever. Dinner delicious, as usual.

I always loved being asked to stay for dinner growing up and was envious of Tonya’s relationship with her boys and with Kora.

The way she cared and loved on them made me despise my mother even more, since the only one she ever cared about after my dad left was herself.

Tonya was always cordial to me—hell, she’d let me spend the night with Rowan without ever questioning us, and over the years she’d had her way of letting me know what she thought about a guy I was dating, or the latest color of my hair.

Even though she grated on my last nerve most of the time, she seemed to know when something was bothering me and showed concern in her own way. Her heart was in the right place, though her mouth didn’t always follow.

Tonight was no different. I caught her eyeing us a few times. Her scrunched brows projected to the room that she was concentrating on whatever was going on between us .

Damn. I’d worked so hard to get over my feelings for Rowan. Spent years convincing myself I was fine with being in the friend zone. Even talked myself into believing that what I’ve been feeling toward him since he came home was just infatuation. Harmless. Temporary. Nothing I couldn’t ignore.

But the second I’d stepped into that kitchen, an awareness of him hit me like a wave I never saw coming, stealing the air from my lungs. Every nerve ending woke up, tuned into him—sharp, restless, impossible to shut off.

God, it bothered me, and not in the way it should have.

“Here let me carry that,” Rowan said as he tried to take the plastic container filled with Tonya’s famous lemon pound cake with cream cheese glaze from my hands.

“I’ve got it.” I jerked my hand away. What did he think I was? An invalid? I could carry half a cake.

“I know you do, but it’s my favorite, and I don’t want to hate you if you drop it.”

“What, like this?” I pretended to trip and almost dropped the cake for real.

“Shit, Summer!” He grabbed my elbow and held me up.

There was that zing of recognition again. Damn. I pulled away and walked faster. “I’m fine. Thank you for being concerned.” I turned toward him. “Or was it the cake you were concerned about, not me?”

“You know, I’m not quite sure.” He winked and walked ahead of me, beating me to the house. He didn’t even wait before he walked in and closed the door in my face. What a dick.

When I got inside, I placed the cake on the counter and got out a Diet Coke as Rowan threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave .

“Go turn on a movie. I’ll be there in a minute,” he said.

“Sure. What do you want to drink?”

“I’ll take a beer. I think there’s a bottle of Summertime Lager in there. I brought some home from Kora and Kai’s.”

There was, and it ed good. I put my open can of Diet Coke in the fridge and grabbed two beers, then got comfortable on the couch.

Rowan joined me and placed the popcorn between us. “Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince,” I said. “I love this one.” I got comfortable and settled in to watch my favorite movie.

“Haven’t you watched this movie a million times?” Rowan asked.

“Hell no,” I said. “More like a billion.”

Rowan turned toward me with laughter in his eyes. “I remember when we were kids, and you said you hoped your children would get their Hogwarts letter one day. Still wish that?”

“Nope,” I said. The fun of the movie evaporated. “Not interested in kids.”

“Well, maybe you should be. You know your internal clock is ticking.”

My internal clock is ticking? Who the hell does he think he is? I grabbed a handful of popcorn and tossed it at him. “You’re a jackass! And, remember, you’re older than me. If my internal clock’s ticking, then yours is screaming ‘last call!’”

He laughed and I swallowed against a rock that had lodged in my throat.

“You know Summertime, we may joke around, but we aren’t getting any younger. We are over thirty.”

I glanced at him and the laughter was gone from his eyes, replaced with something serious I hadn’t seen on his face but a couple times.

The first time was when we were freshman in high school and his grandfather had passed away.

The second was junior year, when Melinda Johnson broke up with him for one of his teammates.

That one broke my heart also. I couldn’t understand why someone would break up with Rowan.

Now, of course, Melinda and that boyfriend were married and had two children and one on the way, so I guess it had been a good thing.

But what do I know about healthy relationships?

I’ve never had one—well except for Kora, Darlene, and Rowan’s friendship.

And that was why I needed to ignore whatever was going on between us.

I couldn’t risk losing what we already had.

“Hey,” Rowan said, cutting into my thoughts. “You’re a million miles away. What’s up?”

I shook my head, my eyes glued to the movie. “Nothing. You looked at me all serious and . . . Well, it creeped me out.” I took a sip of my beer. “Not used to you being like that.”

“It’s an important discussion.”

I turned toward him. “How? How is our age and our biological clocks an important discussion? You’re my friend, not my lover.”

He swallowed hard and his gaze suddenly intensified in a way I’d never noticed. That pull toward him I’d felt at the river returned, and the awareness I had at Tonya’s stood up and screamed at me.

My breath caught as his gaze moved over me— skimming my hair, brushing over my eyes, and pausing at my lips. Without thinking, I touched my tongue to my bottom lip and tugged it between my teeth.

His eyes snapped to mine again as the pull between us became stronger. Hot. Impossible to ignore. He edged closer. His hand reaching out, his fingers threading through a strand of hair that had come loose from my messy bun.

I should’ve pulled away. Said something. Stopped whatever this was. But then, his fingers tangled deeper, gathered more of my hair, and with a gentle tug, he drew me closer.

Suddenly his lips were on mine—and my traitor mouth, acting on its own, opened to his.

When our tongues touched, it was like I’d been struck by lightning, and every one of my senses stood on high alert.

He tasted salty from the popcorn, cold from the beer, and just plain delicious.

It didn’t take long before the fluttering in my stomach melted into desire.

I placed my hand on the side of his face. He moaned and took the kiss deeper.

I was breathless when we finally separated—not only from a lack of oxygen, but from the kiss, itself.

It was amazing, sexy—hot as fire. When my eyes fluttered open, Rowan looked different.

Still my best friend, but something else also.

“What the hell was that Rowan?” I asked, my voice little more than a whisper.

“Something I’ve wanted to do for forever.” His hand brushed against my cheek as my brain registered his words.

“You’ve wanted to kiss me for forever?” I asked him. Was I in awe, or shock? I couldn’t tell. But his words . . . What the hell ?

He nodded and closed the gap again. This time when our lips touched, the kiss deepened. Became desperate. Urgent. His hand slipped behind my neck and pulled me closer.

My hands inched to his shoulders. My fingers grazed the short hair at the nape of his neck.

This kiss unlike any I had ever know—hotter, more electric.

My body responded as a tingle traveled from my stomach to the tips of my nipples and pooled between my legs.

Every nerve ending screamed for more. Every part of me ached for his lips on them.

This had to stop.

, not just some guy.

What the hell were we doing?

I broke the kiss. Placed my fingers over his mouth. My eyes closed tight as I caught my breath and tried to regain control.

This was crazy. Stupid.

I opened my eyes and searched his face, his gaze. He looked flush and confused, but his eyes were filled with desire.

Dammit. This was Rowan. I held my hand up and got off the couch. “We can’t do this, Rowan. Fuck.” I turned away from him. I couldn’t stand to look at him and feel the desire that sparked deep inside my core. I had to get away and try to figure this out.

“Summer.” He reached out for me and started to get up.

“No, Rowan,” I said, and ran toward my room.

“Dammit, Summer, stop.” His voice was sharp, and his footsteps were close behind me.

I had to get to my door before him and close it, because I knew he’d push it open.

We messed around like that all the time when we were younger.

I could never keep him from pushing the door open then—and that was before he developed that amazing, fully muscled chest. Or the ridges of his perfectly sculpted abs.

Or the mountains that were his biceps . . .

Sure enough, when I went to close my door, he’d beat me to it and held it open with one hand, his arm like an iron bar. “Summer, don’t shut me out.”

The desperation of his voice hit its mark, and I froze .

“I know, this is sudden,” he continued. “For you, at least. But I’ve fought my feelings for you for years. Fuck—decades. Since I started calling you Summertime, I’ve had feelings for you.”

My breath caught in my chest. No fucking way. What was he saying? I stared at him, confused. How could he have had feelings for me, all the way back in high school? When he was dating cheerleaders? It didn’t make sense.

He stepped closer and caressed the back of my neck—my weak spot. Then his lips were on mine, and my entire body melted.

Melted into his kiss, his touch, his taste, his warmth.

A moan escaped from deep in my chest which only encouraged Rowan more.

He stepped closer, into the bedroom. Both his hands held my head, and his mouth devoured mine.

The sound of pleasure rumbling deep in his chest was entirely masculine, and fucking sexy.

It caused all my women parts to leap up and take notice.

Luckily, he broke the hot-as-a-volcano kiss to take a breath, and I forced all my willpower to the surface.

“Rowan!” My voice broke, and I pushed him away.

“We can’t do this, no matter how much we want to.

You’re the only good man I have in my life, and this would ruin it.

I don’t want to have a one-night stand with you.

We would never be . . .” I couldn’t finish my sentence because his look of pure desire tore through whatever was left of my protests.

“Good,” he said. His voice rough with emotion. “Because I’m not her for a one-night stand, Summer. I’m here for you. All of you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

God, I didn’t need to hear that. My gaze drifted over his face. He was still breathing hard, and though he made the most irresistible puppy-dog eyes at me, I could see it—fear.

I couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry, Rowan. You know where the sheets and pillows are for the couch.” My throat tightened as I pushed him out into the hall and closed the door.