Finding Summer - Suzanne Halliday Page 0,27

tingle. He heard his mother’s voice, a voice there was no way he could remember, and froze.

“Summer love. How perfect.”

The ground beneath him gave way, and his emotions went into a free fall. Years of practice controlling supersensory input could not save him from an emotional avalanche.

She melted into the sofa with a groan and put on a pantomime of orgasmic delight over her first taste of the childhood treat.

Summer’s unique essence was extraordinary. The blazing brilliance of her life force radiated with color and came off as both calm and turbulent at the same time. She was heat and cold in the same breath. Her body owned its space without overpowering. He needed no more proof of her singularity. She was the exception. An outlier who did not fit a mold. Just like him.

Sitting on the horrendous sofa as they playfully annihilated the entire box of cookies and the whole can of whipped cream, making jokes and cracking each other up was the most authentic interaction he’d ever had.

She broke out the animal sounds with each cookie and reduced him to snorted laughing. He made up a wild tale about life on the Serengeti. Every second was perfect. His mom was right about Summer love.

“I’m gonna take my boots off, okay?” she asked without waiting for a response and quickly ditched the footwear. “Bra first, shoes second,” she informed him with a playful eyebrow wag.

Why he said what he did surprised him more than her. “One of the women I work with would add a third thing. Bra, shoes, wig.”

“You work with someone who wears wigs?”

His thoughts threw a spotlight on Aliyah Hawkins. Part cover girl, part model, part shit-kicking badass, she had a full-on chick boutique going on in her NIGHTWIND offices. It was Ali who educated him and everyone else about women of color and hairstyles. Depending on her mood, what she was doing, if she was working, and what day it was, she had a hairpiece for every occasion. It was fucking impressive. Guys got one shot while the ladies had a bag full of clever tricks.

“Believe it or not, there is a vast and growing legion of women working in the security field. Some get there because of skill with technology or undercover expertise.” He rolled a shoulder. “My company does a fair amount of work under the government and military umbrella. We aren’t the ones running divorce court surveillance.”

“I see.” She nodded. “The Army has my brother doing something he calls advanced training. I understand even though I have no idea what it means.”

He knew all about the Army and their advanced training.

The subject changed just as quickly as it started.

“So, help me get this right.” She waved her hands around. “I’ve never attempted a sofa seduction before. Should I adjust the lighting? Put on music? Have a first-aid kit handy?”

“Well, damn,” he growled. “I don’t know. To be perfectly honest, I’d be fine with a spotlight and a marching band.” His grin was meant to be cocky, and her smirking reaction told him he’d hit the mark.

“I’ve done this before. Not the seduction part,” he quickly reiterated. “That part is new. I’m used to women taking what they want. It’s been a long time since I had to work for it,” he teased. “Although you did take off your bra.” He stroked a pretend beard and leered at her boobs.

“Let there be no doubt, you’re still working for it. Magnum XL and all.”

He laughed heartily. Maybe celibate was the wrong word, but he’d certainly been in sexual limbo for some time. Being the dude with the big dick was great when he was younger and constantly horny. Getting laid was never a problem; as a matter of fact, women gave it away eagerly for a chance to hop on top. But when all was said and done, having a monster cock did not guarantee an emotional connection. He got bored with being an object and let his sexual Olympics certification expire.

Within the first minute of talking to Summer, a connection formed. He felt it, and so did she. This was different. Whatever happened, they were in it together.

5

Oh, my goodness! If Arnie got any hotter, cuter, or sexier, she was going to need either a time-out or a doctor. A love doctor to help her manage the barrage of sensations battering her mind and body. And her heart.

He elbowed her gently and leaned in close. “You want me to work for it? Is

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