The Summer of Us (Mission Cove #1) - Melanie Moreland Page 0,41

never ask.”

I followed Sunny up the stairs and into her cozy apartment. Inside, I inhaled with appreciation. It smelled like her—warm, sweet, and lovely. She ducked into the kitchen to make coffee, and I looked around, picking up the pictures she had scattered around. Smiling as I recognized Emily and Hayley—now all grown-up and at university. I felt sad as I looked at pictures of her mom, progressing from the woman I remembered to a frailer, older version. Sunny was in a few of them, and I could see her change from the girl I loved to the woman I met again yesterday. Growing up, her full cheeks slimming out, her body changing from angles to womanly curves, her smile sadder than I remembered, her eyes more haunted.

My gaze was drawn to one photo. High on a shelf and tucked away. My hand shook as I plucked it from the corner. Me, lying in the sun, my chest bare, sunglasses on, my head tilted back as I enjoyed the warmth of the rays on my skin.

“That was at the camp,” she offered as she came into the room, carrying a tray.

“I had no idea you had taken this.”

“I used the phone you bought me. You were alone by the water, relaxing. I saw you and had to take the picture.” She smiled sadly and took it from my hand. “It’s how I always remembered you from that summer. Smiling and happy. In the sun—loving the summer.” She didn’t meet my eyes. “And me.” She slipped it back on the shelf and faced me. “The summer of us.”

I stepped close and slid my arms around her, drawing her close.

“There is more for us, Sunny. If you want it.” I pressed my mouth to her hair, feeling the silkiness of the strands on my lips. “I know I do.”

She fit so well against me, even after all these years. She still nestled under my chin as if she belonged there. Her softness melded with my harder angles exactly the way I remembered. I never wanted to let her go.

She tilted her head back. Her dark brown eyes were filled with emotion. Her hair fell in waves down her back and over my hands. The urge to wrap my fists around the strands made my fingers flex. The desire to kiss her was strong. Her pupils dilated and her breathing picked up, her gaze focused on my mouth. I bent and brushed my lips over hers, a small whimper escaping her mouth.

“I want to, Sunny,” I whispered against her lips. “I want to kiss you. Taste you. Everywhere—for hours. Reacquaint myself with every inch of you. But I don’t want any unanswered questions between us. I want us both to go into this trusting and believing in the other person.” I touched my mouth to hers one more time. “Because this time, come hell or high water, I won’t be able to let you go. I will fight anything and anyone that comes between us. Do you understand me? Once I make you mine again, I will never let you go. Ever.”

Her response was perfect. She pulled my head down to hers, and she kissed me. She swept her tongue into my mouth and stroked it along mine possessively. She tugged on my hair, keeping me close. She licked at me endlessly, then dragged her mouth along my jaw and over to my ear. “Me either, Linc. Me either.”

Then with a final press of her lips to mine, she stepped back and grinned at me.

“Biscuit?”

12

Linc

I ate the biscuits Sunny had made for me, sitting at her little kitchen table, surrounded by mementos of her life. Pictures she had chosen, furniture she had refinished, pieces of bric-a-brac she had acquired or kept from her childhood. I picked up a saltshaker in the shape of a duck, squatting low, its mate beside it on the table, his neck stretched out. Both had ridiculous faces on them that made me smile. I traced the glaze, dull from years of being touched.

“I remember these on your mom’s table.”

Sunny nodded, cupping her mug. “They were my grandma’s. Silly, I know, but they meant something to her. We took all that stuff with us when we went, then brought it back.”

“It must have been hard to start over.”

She pursed her lips. “It was. But I had my mom and sisters. Uncle Pete was great—older than my mom. He hardly knew us, but he made us welcome and gave us