Finding Summer - Suzanne Halliday Page 0,246

reunited?”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she drew her knees up and curled into the fetal position. When the bed stopped spinning, she’d pull it together, but until then, all she could do was pray her emotions didn’t fray completely.

Arnie perfected the art of run-sauntering after Dottie stomped into his personal space and suggested he get his ass inside to support Summer during a meltdown.

Moving with the speed of the fictional comic book hero Flash, he ran so fast his feet barely touched the ground. Slowing to a calm, cool, and collected saunter just outside her bedroom, he took a deep breath and slid past the partially open door.

The light-blocking drapes were open, allowing sunlight to softly filter through a pair of sheer curtains. Summer was on the bed, facing the crib where their infant daughter snoozed peacefully.

He paused just inside the door, and thought, So this is what being in over your head feels like.

What was he supposed to do, and how much leeway did he have? New to the relationship game, he found this part of the boyfriend equation baffling. Did other guys feel like he did? Were they also unprepared and totally ignorant about what makes a woman tick?

With nothing to look at except Summer’s back, he concentrated on the size and color of the energy field surrounding her. The pervasive shades were green and gray. She was confused, tired, and sad. Her aura appeared flat and lifeless.

Adding thinking with his dick to his acknowledged failures, he took responsibility for last night’s rash coupling. Sex only complicated matters. And he was pretty fucking sure what happened contributed to her unraveling.

Treading softly, he crossed the scant space and stood between the bed and crib. Ari lay on her back, wrapped snugly in a pink blanket. As long as he lived, he was never going to forget she was tucked inside a body sling while her brave as fuck mama fought not one but two deadly attackers. His kid already had badass bona fides.

When he bent slightly to get a glimpse of Summer’s face, he found her staring back at him. Her eyes were clear, but he sensed a shield was in place.

There was no room to sit next to her on the bed, so he went to his knee and gently stroked her arm.

“How can I make this better, baby girl?”

Her eyes bored into his. He felt her emotions pinball wildly as she reacted to the evocative pet name. The suggestive term fell easily off his tongue. He hadn’t intended to offend her and was genuinely attempting to calm her nerves during an obvious crisis. Taking care of her was just as important to him as taking care of Ari.

She rose from the pillow and sat cross-legged so they were more or less at eyeball level.

Instead of freaking out when his dick throbbed, he accepted the response for what it was—his primal side weighing in. He thanked the caveman for his enthusiasm but respectfully called a temporary time-out so he could work on repairing his and Summer’s rocky relationship.

With the matter settled for now, he gave one hundred and ten percent of his attention to his golden girl. Her outlook was a little cloudy, and if he hoped to change things, to bring the sunshine back, he had some work to do.

Dropping her chin, she looked away. He sensed her turmoil, but he wasn’t afraid of it. In fact, a little disorder or unrest wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not at all. The strong reaction implied caring, and he could work with caring. It was a thousand times better than indifference.

“How can you make this better?” she parroted his question, mumbling in a wobbly voice.

He didn’t expect an answer, but she had one.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was husky and thick with emotion. “Can you turn back time? Can you make it so none of this happened?”

The agony in her voice was uncomfortable to hear. His discomfort turned to a sharp, stabbing pain when she tautly muttered, “All you had to do was pick me up from work when you were supposed to.”

Her eyes didn’t damn him, but they should have.

He had an entire year to come up with a rationale for his failure to send a simple message, but nothing plausible withstood the glare of reality. No matter how he cut it, he was still a dumbass. A card-carrying, head up his butt, alpha dumbass.

“I fucked up.”

“Ya think?” Her eyes blazed with fury.

Shock, fear, and panic assailed his senses