Unforgettable Summer: Wild Crush, Book 1 (6 page)

Being faced with Ty Butler, her first crush, her first love, after all this time was weird. Exhilarating and scary, like she was standing on the precipice of something. If she’d accepted his dinner invitation, would she have fallen, or flown?

“It’s okay, Sum. I won’t hurt you.”

“I trust you, Ty. It’s just… I’ve never…”

“I know.” Ty was sure Summer was a virgin. She hadn’t had a boyfriend as far as he knew, and if any guy from around here had ever touched her, he’d have heard about it. Guys talked about Jasmine ad nauseam, even ones who hadn’t been anywhere near her. As if because she put out a few times, she’d be willing to do anything, with anyone. It pissed Ty off most days but if he’d ever bothered to defend her honor, Jasmine had simply laughed it off, told him he was cute.

But Summer… If any bloke in Leyton’s Headland had ever spoken that way about Summer, Ty felt sure he would have ripped his ugly head off.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

Ty meant every word, but he was having a hard time keeping his hand on her waist when all he wanted to do was cop a feel. Most girls let him, but he didn’t want to rush Summer. He kissed along her cheek, nuzzling her earlobe before moving back again to her lips, tasting her. She was so sweet, the flavor of her undiluted. Pristine, never-been-touched Summer. He wanted her so bad he was nearly dying from it.

She kissed him back, arching against him, making little moaning noises that he felt like electricity deep in his balls. He was full and tight, hard as a damn crow bar. He tried to keep that part of him away from her, but suddenly Summer’s hand slipped from his chest and landed right
there.

Ty sucked in a sharp breath. Quickly, Summer yanked her hand away, staring at him in shock. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt it?”

Ty would have laughed if he could have. Instead he gave her a reassuring, though taut, smile, and brushed her hair back from her face. “No, babe. But touching it isn’t such a good idea.”

“Why?”

She really had no concept of the effect women could have on men—or the effect she had on him in particular. Her innocence made him feel guilty for even being with her like this. Her father was a surgeon, they lived in a two-storey house, and you could see the beach from their upstairs balcony. He lived in a three-bedroom cottage with a cracked pavement and a view of the tire swing in the backyard.

Ty had lost his virginity at fifteen. At nineteen, he already felt old hat at this. But Summer was naive, a blank canvas, sexually speaking. Someone would teach her about this stuff, but Ty wasn’t sure he deserved the honor. Which was a conundrum, because he wanted to be the one to show her about sex more than anything in the world.

Ty kissed her softly on the lips, forcing himself to breathe evenly, to slow down. “If you touch my dick I won’t be able to control myself, Sum.” Pulling back, he looked into her widened eyes and smiled. “God. You’re so, so pretty.”

Her gaze softened. Ty felt her melting against him. He saw something else too. He saw the moment the soft innocence in her eyes turned to determination. “I don’t want to be pretty,” she said, lowering her hand. “I want to be sexy. For you.”

Her fingers curled around him and Ty knew he was in big trouble.

Ty woke in a tangle of sheets to the sound of knocking on his bedroom door. “Ty, get up, honey. It’s half past six already and your father’s making omelets.”

The sense of
déjà vu
was uncanny. He was in his old bedroom plagued by the hard-on from Hades courtesy of one Summer Campbell, while his mother was on the other side of the door demanding he drag his ass out of bed. Talk about awkward. How had he ever survived his teenage years anyway?

“Ty?”

“Comin’,” he rasped, wincing at the word choice.

He heard Irene Butler’s footsteps retreating and let out a breath. Ty had always considered his mum to be about the coolest on earth. She competed in triathlons, lived a vegetarian lifestyle and recycled religiously. She believed in the motto “live and let live”. Except when it came to the notion of sleeping the day away. It was her one area of intolerance.

Not that Ty wanted to spend any more time in bed. It had been too long a night spent lying awake, alternately annoyed and aroused. The memory of Summer’s healing hands working his body had mingled with those from ten years ago, tormenting him and making him wonder if he’d grown up at all in the last decade. If he hadn’t learned his lesson about wanting things he couldn’t have. He’d asked her out, and she’d said no. Not surprising, after he’d practically mauled her in her workspace like a letch and made her feel afraid of him.

Tool-of-the-year award, here comes Ty Butler.

Grunting in self-disgust, Ty climbed out of bed and slipped across the hall to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face and took care of all the usual business before heading back to his room to dress in a loose-fitting pair of cargos and a wrinkled T-shirt. All the while distracted by the remembered feel of Summer’s lips beneath his.

Maybe he had behaved like a Neanderthal. But for a few moments there, she’d kissed him back like a woman starved. Like a woman who wanted that kiss, and a whole lot more. A thought that intrigued and teased him, despite his efforts to remain firmly unteased.

With a frustrated groan, Ty headed to the kitchen. His father, Dean, had remodeled it a few years back, installing new marble bench tops and sleek gray cupboards. The splashback was a mosaic of blues that Irene had put together. Ty’s parents always had worked well as a team. Even now they moved around the kitchen like a well-oiled machine, his father checking the pan on the stove while his mother made toast and operated the juicer. Dean reached into the fridge and pulled out the low-fat spread, handing it to Irene without her having to ask. Before moving off again, Dean kissed his wife on the head, at which she smiled and stroked her husband across his flat stomach.

Growing up, Ty had taken the easy affection his parents shared for granted. Over the years he’d learned how rare it was for a couple to stay together and happy for three decades.

“There you are, sleepyhead. About time you got up.”

“Your mother and I have already been for a run and a swim,” his father chimed in. “Great day for it. No swell though. The ocean’s as flat as a tack.”

“Has anyone ever told you two you’re kind of sickening?”

“You have,” Irene said. “But I assumed you were joking.”

“Only half the time,” Ty quipped. “What can I do to help?”

His mother set Ty to work buttering the toast. Between the three of them, they had breakfast on the table in under three minutes.

Being an only child, Ty had always been close with his parents, and his stable, loving family life was also something he’d taken for granted. Until he’d gotten to know the Campbell girls all those years ago and realized how hard some people had it. From his conversation with Summer a few days ago, it seemed as though her family—with her sister’s distance and her father’s ongoing disapproval—was as fractured as ever.

“Plans for the day?” Irene asked, breaking into Ty’s persistent Summer-related thoughts.

“Not much going on if there’s no swell. Besides, I’ve been told not to overuse my shoulder.”

“And right you are to take Summer’s advice,” Irene said. “She’s good.”

Ty tried not to think, once again, about Summer’s hands kneading his sore spots. “I might look at a couple of properties Aaron’s recommended.”

“Good time to invest,” his father said, not for the first time. “Smart move.”

“While you’re in town would you mind picking up a few things for me?”

“Sure, Mum.”

Forty minutes later, his parents left for work. His mother was an aid worker for disabled adults and his dad was a draftsman. Without their energizing presence, the little cottage fell quiet. He called Aaron, but the receptionist said he was out until later in the afternoon. Ty read the paper, checked his emails and generally dithered about until the inaction got to him. He took his mother’s shopping list and headed into town.

He resisted the temptation to stop for coffee at the Beach Break Cafe, figuring he’d rather not risk running into Summer today. She was probably still pissed at him for kissing her, and in truth he was a little pissed at himself for doing it in the first place. What had he been thinking? As a method of finding out if she was still married, it was fairly efficient, but if he’d asked her point blank she probably would have told him the truth. Not that it was any of his business anyway.

Frowning at his circular thoughts, Ty walked into Frisky Fruit, the organic grocers that had been located in the center of town for as long as Ty could remember. He greeted the fiftyish woman behind the counter by name. Mr. and Mrs. McIntosh had owned the shop since Ty was a kid. From the storeroom out back, Mr. McIntosh called out for Ty to kick butt in Bells Beach—the location of Ty’s next competition which was due to take place in a couple of weeks. Ty promised he would do just that, then picked up a basket and headed down the first aisle.

There she was, carrying her own basket and looking like a deer that had been caught in the headlights. The very woman Ty had skipped coffee to avoid.

“Ty,” Summer said, appearing none too happy to see him.

“Sum.” Ty used the shortened version of her name on purpose and got a perverse kick out of the way she bristled when he did. Man, he really
hadn’t
grown up a lot. Teasing Summer was as much fun as it had been when they were teenagers. Warming to the experience, Ty drawled, “You following me?”

“What?” she sputtered. “I was here first!”

Ty smiled. “You always were an easy mark.”

Color shaded her cheeks before she turned away on the pretense of studying the nectarines. “And you always were kind of a jerk.”

“Ouch.” Ty feigned offense. “Once upon a time, I thought you liked me anyway.”

“That was before you”—she cast her gaze around before lowering her voice—“kissed me at my place of business.”

“Was it really that bad? Not my best work I’ll admit, but not the worst either.”

“Then I feel very sorry for the girl who was subjected to your worst effort.”

“Geez, Sum. Your tongue’s gotten sharp.” Ty wished he hadn’t mentioned her tongue as the remembered sensation of it stroking against his yesterday sent a warm rush through his body. Aggravated by the ongoing physical frustration he’d been carrying with him today, he snapped, “Does divorce disagree with you that much?”

Ty wished he could pull the words back when Summer paled. Tearing her gaze from his, she turned on her heel and walked farther down the aisle, away from him. Kicking himself, Ty selected a couple of nectarines before following.

Reaching around her shoulder, Ty slipped the two pieces of fruit into Summer’s shopping basket. When she turned to look at him askance, he said, “You looked like you wanted them. Consider them a peace offering. I was out of line.”

“A couple of nectarines ought to make up for it.”

Ty reached into a display of granny smith apples and picked a big shiny one off the top. “How about one of these too? I can keep going, make an ‘I’m sorry’ fruit salad.”

Her lips pursed in a way that made Ty wonder if she was trying not to smile. The sparkle in her dark eyes confirmed it as she plucked the apple out of his hand and put it into her basket. “Add some whipped cream and you might have something.”

“Deal. Do they sell that here?”

This time Summer couldn’t hide the way her lips curved. “No.”

“Damn. Guess I’ll have to owe you.”

The notion of being indebted to Summer for whipped cream made Ty imagine a few places on her body he wouldn’t mind putting it. Vivid mental pictures that Ty tried to force out of his head as he walked beside her, putting the items on his mother’s list into his basket while Summer inspected the fruit, concentrating on every tiny brown spot in a way that bordered on finicky.

Wanting Summer Campbell while the distances between them yawned as wide as canyons. There was that
déjà vu
again.

“So what happened?”

Once again Summer faced him. “With what?”

“Your marriage.” She stiffened and Ty shrugged by way of apology. “You can tell me it’s none of my business. I’m asking anyway.”

“Why? Why would you possibly want to know anything about my marriage to Duncan?”

Because you chose him over me
. He’d never voiced that truth out loud, and thank God he managed to keep the words from spilling forth. They would have made him sound petulant and bitter. “Maybe I want to know what he had that I didn’t.”

Christ. That wasn’t much better.

Summer’s voice flattened out. “He wasn’t my sister’s boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend. I never made a move on you while I was dating your sister.”

“A semantic Jasmine didn’t take time to clarify before she smashed up your car with my father’s nine iron,” Summer returned. “Ex-boyfriend or not, you weren’t a choice I could make.”

“So you chose this Duncan character. Because he was a doctor?”