Page 68 of That Stranded Feeling

“Oh, God, Owen,” she breathes. “I can’t believe you’re trying to tempt me into a quickie upstairs at your aunt and uncle’s party.”

“But do you want to?”

“Hell, yes.” Her voice is soft and velvety, and full of the same thing that’s coursing through my veins—desire. Unremitting, unrelenting, unrivalled desire.

I take her hand and move toward the guest room.

“Owen!” It’s Elliot, calling up from the foyer.

He gestures in the direction of the living room.

I pull Summer back to me and drop my forehead onto hers. “Fuck.”

She laughs. “The guy’s here, is he?”

I close my eyes and nod. “Rain check?”

“Hell, yes.” She tugs at my tie. “I can’t wait to take this off.”

“Oh, Jesus, stop it. I have to switch my brain to business mode now.”

She laughs as she brushes her lower belly against me. “You’ll have to drag it out of your crotch first.”

I summon all my willpower and peel myself off of her, step back, and offer her my elbow. “Come on, then.” I sigh. “May I accompany you down the stairs?”

Now begins my second most important mission of the evening—keeping Summer away from Archie. If anything could sabotage my plan to convince her that what we have is worth more than three days, it would be a pompous billionaire asshole. But he’s a pompous billionaire asshole who could change the course of my and Elliot’s lives, as well as the lives of countless youngsters for generations to come. So, if I want to keep them both, I can’t let Summer and Archie cross paths again.

As soon as is polite, I’ll whisk Archie off to the study, where Elliot’s set up our presentation. He’ll be out of harm’s way there. Then, when we’re done wooing him, I’ll get him back in his chauffeur-driven Bentley and send him on his way.

Summer grips my arm as she concentrates on the stairs. “I have to take it slowly in these shoes.”

I rest my hand on top of hers. “I’ve got you.”

“You do, don’t you.” She looks up and gives me a smile that makes me the luckiest man alive. “This is all a bit scary, you know. Not knowing anyone. Being the odd one out among family and close friends.”

“I appreciate how brave it was for you to come. And I couldn’t be happier that you’re here.”

As we reach the bottom of the stairs, Maggie rushes through to hug an arriving couple.

“Oh, my goodness. Thank you.” She takes something from them that resembles a huge test tube on a spike.

It looks like a device from a giant’s laboratory. Or an instrument of torture.

Maggie brandishes it at Summer and me with an ear-to-ear grin. “The perfect housewarming gift.”

Summer makes an obvious effort to be polite. “It looks…interesting. I’ve never seen one of, er, those before.”

This weird contraption might be my savior. “Mags, would you mind getting Summer a drink while you explain your new garden gizmo to her.”

“Of course,” Maggie says.

I kiss Summer on the cheek as my aunt leads her away. Thankfully, in the opposite direction from the living room, where Archie awaits.

23

SUMMER

Owen’s smile and mini wave as he walks away gives me an inner warmth, like a safe sense of belonging. I haven’t felt that since I left my grandparents’ home and headed across the country to Berkeley six years ago.