The Perfect Indulgence Page 16

  He pulled her, laughing and protesting, down to the water’s edge, where the sand hardened and became cold and wet under their toes.

  “Stand here. Right here. Okay, on the count of three. Ready?”

  “Luke! This is going to be horrible!”

  “One...” He grabbed her hand. “Two...three!”

  They ran, yelling and splashing into the icy waves until the water reached their waists, then they fell forward—it wasn’t really diving—until they were submerged.

  Argh! Cold!

  Summer came up, gasping and shrieking, staggering to get out as quickly as possible. “That was enough swimming, even if it wasn’t swimming. I’m outta here.”

  “Me, too. Damn, that’s cold water.”

  “I told you.” A wave pushed her forward. She fought for balance. No way was she going under again.

  Luke lunged through the thigh-deep water to grab her arm, helping her the rest of the way onto the sand.

  “Yes!” Luke thrust his arms overhead. “We did it! We were amazing!”

  “We were morons!” She sprinted with him toward their beach towels, her skin tingling, lungs gasping for air.

  “It was awesome!” Luke reached the towels first, unfolded one with a quick shake and draped it around her, using the edges to pull her close. “Admit it.”

  “Never!” She made the mistake of looking up at him. The setting sun cast a pink light over his face that made his skin rosy and his eyes stand out in strong relief. A lock of hair curled over his forehead, a drop of water sparkling at its tip. He’d put on weight since he’d been in California and had lost the starving-teenager look.

  He was gorgeous. She really liked him. And she liked herself better since meeting him. He’d gotten her out of her rut and reminded her that life could hold joy and silliness as well as work and responsibility.

  “Summer.”

  “Yes.” Her voice came out husky, the way a woman speaks when she’s overcome with nerves and emotion. She did not want her resolve to stay platonic with Luke tested right now. She was too vulnerable, he was too handsome, the beach too romantic.

  “I, uh—” He cleared his throat. “I want to tell you that I think you’re really beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” She felt herself blush, dropping her eyes, unable to look into his anymore. “You’re pretty hot yourself.”

  “Yeah?” She could hear the pleasure in his voice. “So does that mean we can do it? Right now? On the beach? Without protection? I hear girls don’t get pregnant the first time if they—”

  Summer let out a howl of pretend horror. A pretty convincing one.

  “I’m kidding.” He was laughing. “Jeez, Summer, you think I’m that clueless?”

  “Yes.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him, trying not to laugh. “You’re a guy.”

  “You should have seen your face.”

  “Not fun-ny.”

  “I thought you were going to have a total—”

  One push was all it took when he was off balance like that. Then he was getting sandy everywhere and Summer was standing triumphantly over him. “Ha! And I knew you were kidding, temper boy.”

  “Yeah?” He lay there, grinning up at her. “I’m glad to hear that, uptight girl.”

  “You’re going to have to rinse off that sand.”

  “So are you.”

  Summer frowned. “I’m not sandy.”

  He hooked his leg behind hers and brought her down to sprawl over his hard chest, locking her there in his strong arms. “Now you are.”

  “You are so going to pay for that.” She struggled up on her arms and tried to glare at him some more, but he looked so pleased with himself that she couldn’t help laughing.

  Then he pulled her back down onto his wet, warm torso and kissed her. His kisses were salty and sandy and sweet, the most wonderful kisses she’d ever had.

  Her instinct should have been to pull away. She knew what happened when guys kissed you and there was nothing between you but bathing suits. Sooner or later, the sweetness would evaporate from the kiss, the tongue would come out and the groping would start.

  But she really, really liked kissing Luke.

  He smiled at her, lifting his hand to brush sand from her cheek. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” She wasn’t sure. She felt fragile and shimmering, not very much like her solid, serious self.

  Luke helped her to her feet, still loose limbed and relaxed. “I didn’t plan to do that. It just sorta happened. You looked so pretty, and I don’t know, I just wanted to.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. She should tell him it wasn’t going to happen again until they’d figured out a lot more about each other, but with the warmth of his mouth so recently against her lips...

  “So, hey, guess what, Summer Kreuger?” He raised his eyebrows, apparently not remotely as affected by kissing her as she’d been by kissing him. A good thing to keep in mind if she ever got weak-kneed around him again.

  “What, Luke Arnette?” She imitated his careless tone.

  “I got a job today.”

  “What? Oh, wow!” Summer clapped her hands together. “Luke, that’s fantastic. Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

  He tipped his head, eyeing her sheepishly. “I don’t know. It’s not that impressive.”

  “It’s great. Where are you working?”

  “Bagel shop in San Luis Obispo.”

  “It’s fine for now. Are you going back to school?”

  “Oh...maybe. Hey, you’re shivering. Let’s go back and get you warmed up.” He picked up the towel, shook it free of sand and draped it back over her shoulders.

  Summer’s balloon of optimism popped. Maybe wasn’t exactly an enthusiastic response. In fact, she’d bet it was a euphemism for probably not. She shouldn’t be disappointed. They were just friends, right? Or...friends who kissed sometimes...she still wasn’t sure what that had been about. Maybe it was as simple as he’d said—him kissing a girl because he thought she looked pretty and he wanted to. A reflex, like petting a dog or cooing over a baby.

  In any case, Luke’s plans for his life shouldn’t matter so much to her.

  She’d just have to try to forget that they already did.

  * * *

  THIS VALENTINE’S THING was going to kill her. Chris hung up the phone in the Slow Pour office, her eyes practically crossing from fatigue. Everything was in place, the food on order, the entertainment, the prizes, the red carpet for kneeling all taken care of, but after the phone call from Eva on Monday night, she had about as much enthusiasm for a day devoted to love as a woman whose hopes for romance had recently swirled down the potty of circumstances.

  Fact one: she could not commit to any kind of extended relationship with Zac right now, no matter how serious her feelings seemed, because early infatuation wasn’t to be trusted.

  Fact two: she needed time to see if those feelings were the real thing or not.

  Fact three: since Eva and Ames were moving back here to California and she was moving back to New York, she did not have time.

  Fact four: see facts one and two, on and on into infinity.

  And that was that. Well thought-out. Smart. And infallibly sensible.

  But well thought-out, smart and sensible were making her feel horrible. Obviously what she really wanted was to continue a relationship with Zac. She had to keep reasoning with herself that while her feelings for Zac might be real, a long-distance relationship wasn’t a reliable test of compatibility. When you were apart, the longing for the other person was exaggerated, and when you were together, it was always a honeymoon period of reunion followed by the intense emotions stemming from having to part again so soon.

  Sorry, inner voice, her common sense was right this time. No matter how strongly she felt about Zac, trying to keep a relationship going was not the best course. Right now the best course was to take back to New York all she’d learned about herself while she was here. She had new insights
into her less desirable behaviors and, having met Zac, a higher bar of how she wanted to be treated in relationships in the future, and a better idea of how she wanted to treat her next partner. Once there, she’d be starting over in a way—she’d call it the New Chris, but by now that concept made her want to hurl.

  Moving back to New York was going to be exciting. She’d be a better and stronger woman taking on the city, one block at a time. Or something like that.

  Yeah, she could barely hold back from jumping up and down.

  No, no, it would take time, but she’d have time. Nothing but time. And Zac was a really special guy. She was sure they’d be able to remain friends.

  Whoopee.

  Sick of arguing with herself, Chris took a deep breath to try to release the constant knot of pain in her chest and went over the list for the next day’s event one more time, making sure everything was under control and ready to go. The last customer of the evening was packing up to leave. Eva and Summer would be over soon to help decorate the shop. Then she was going to go over to see Zac and explain everything she’d finally gotten straight in her mind.

  She’d live through this.

  Back behind the counter, she was relieved to see the guy who’d been at the same table most of the day playing video games over cup after cup of espresso was gone—probably to spend the night wide-awake playing more video games—which meant she could turn the sign to Closed and start bringing out the decorations.

  She’d just finished stacking boxes by the order-pickup area when Eva appeared at the front door, apparently already dressed for the holiday in pink pants and a white top with red hearts.

  Chris let her in. “Wow, look at you. What will you have left to wear tomorrow?”

  “I’ll surprise you. Hi, sweetie.” Eva gave her sister a long hug, then pulled back and searched Chris’s face. “How are you doing?”

  Chris felt an unfair jolt of irritation at her twin’s concern, and was instantly ashamed. Eva and Ames were living their lives the way they should be. The fact that everything was coming up roses for them while Chris wallowed in weeds, well, that was just the way it was right now. She couldn’t blame her sister. “I’m okay.”

  “Yeah?” Eva studied her through narrowed eyes. “You look awful.”

  “I am awful, thank you.” She shrugged, knowing better than to lie, and handed Eva the box of bright red centerpieces—small red vases holding bouquets of reflective metallic red strands decorated with hearts. “But I’ll get over it. And him. Here. One of those goes on each table.”

  “Get over Zac?” Eva clutched the box, staring at Chris over the top. “Why do you have to get over him? I thought everything was going great. Except for the whole moving-back-to-New-York part.”

  “Yeah, and there goes our chance for a relationship.” She moved back to the stack of boxes to retrieve the one containing garlands of red and pink hearts.

  Eva followed her, still holding her box. “Wait, why? What if he gets into Columbia?”

  “He doesn’t hear for weeks, so we can’t plan on that.” She carried the garland box over toward the register, Eva trailing her. “And I’m too old to be pining after some guy who lives two thousand miles away.”

  She thumped the box on the counter, bracing herself for the slew of unreasonable arguments Eva would come up with. Maybe one of them could convince her she was wrong. That would be nice.

  “I understand. I really do. I was exactly where you are, remember? You and I were supposed to switch back at the end of October, and Ames had a really good job in New York. I was so crazy about him, and I had no idea what to do.”

  “I remember. But then I decided to stay here longer, and you lucked out that Ames was able to relocate.” Chris took Eva’s arm and steered her back to a table, removing the box from her arms. “One centerpiece per table.”

  “I did luck out.” Eva followed Chris back to the counter. “But we would have worked something out regardless. He was incredibly special to me from the beginning, different from every guy I’d ever dated, and I would have been miserable without him.”

  “I’m sure I will be, too, at first. But there’s someone in New York for me, I’m sure.” Chris pointed Eva firmly back to the centerpieces. “One for each table?”

  “He won’t be like Zac.”

  Kaboom. Five little words, and every fear Chris had been battling back into the swamps clambered out, smelly and dripping.

  “We’ll see.” She barely managed to get the words out.

  “Hi, sorry I’m late.” Summer pushed through the front door. “Luke dropped me off. He makes me late for everything.”

  Eva looked up from ripping open her box. “Because he can’t manage his time or because you can’t bear to leave him?”

  “Yes.” Summer was beaming.

  Chris was so happy for her. And she also wanted to ask Summer please not to look that joyful again until Chris was safely back in New York.

  “So besides the fact that you can’t tear yourself away from him...” Eva put a centerpiece on one of the tables—not in the center. “Are we talking romance yet or still just friendship?”

  Summer hesitated. “We’re friends. It seems to work best that way.”

  “How come?”

  “Eva.” Chris rolled her eyes, taping a length of garland to the counter. “Let the woman have some privacy. Summer, I’ve got honeycomb heart thingies for you to hang from the ceiling. There are hooks already up there.”

  “Oh, yes!” Eva pointed them out delightedly. “Those are from when we had the first-anniversary party for the store, remember, Summer? We hung little boxes wrapped to look like presents. Gosh, it will be so good to come back.”

  Chris clung to the box of honeycomb heart decorations, not trusting herself to speak. She could not believe she was being such a crybaby about this.

  Hey. She was allowed. This was hard.

  “Thanks, Chris.” Summer took the box and headed for the ladder.

  “Sorry for prying.” Eva put down another noncentered centerpiece. “I just want to see you happy. You’ve had it rough.”

  “We’ll see what happens.” She dragged the ladder under one of the ceiling hooks. “I’m not sure we’re right for each other.”

  “Really?” Eva said. “Why not?”

  Summer looked cornered, as people often did when Eva got going with her questions. “We come from different worlds.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t care.”

  “Maybe not now...” Summer climbed the ladder and hung the first honeycomb heart from the ceiling.

  “Wait, wait, let me get this straight.” Eva approached the ladder, having abandoned the centerpieces once again. Chris took quick advantage, quietly moving through the room, placing each in the exact middle of the table. “You’re not going to give Luke a chance because it might not work out?”

  Summer scrunched up her face in confusion. She looked adorable. “Well, don’t put it like that.”

  Eva shoved her hands on her hips. “I’m telling you, these Arnettes are good guys, one in a million. Okay, I don’t know Luke, but be glad he’s nothing like your previous boyfriends, Summer. They deserved eternal torment as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Can you arrange that?” She dragged the ladder over to the next hook. “Luke is a good guy. But he’s a floater. One thing, then the other. Nothing taken too seriously. Nothing lasts too long. I don’t want to be hurt by that.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Chris taped another length of garland and crossed her eyes at Eva’s glare.

  “Well, I do. This is a kid who had a serious tragedy early in his life, and a pretty crappy childhood, from what Zac’s told me, who messed up once and has been paying for it ever since. He had to give up his school, his friends, his part of the country. No wonder he doesn’t want to commit to anything right now.”

  Summer froze on the ladder, blinking down at Eva.

  “And you.” Eva whirled on Chris. “You were incredibly brittle when you came
out here, exhausted and beaten down. Once you settled in, you immediately started sounding like your old self again, maybe even coming out of your usual shell a little. Then you go through this weird Peace, Love and Coma thing and start sounding like you’re half-dead.”

  Chris narrowed her eyes. “Hey, I was—”

  “And now, these last couple of weeks, you’ve been sounding wonderful and excited and free, Chris. Different than I’ve ever seen you.” Eva pointed emphatically. “So, the big question is, for one million dollars, Chris Meyer, guess who was part of your life both times you were feeling better than you ever have in your life?”

  Chris froze at the counter, blinking at Eva.

  “I rest my case.” She clapped her hands together.

  They finished decorating, Chris and Summer mostly in stunned silence, Eva chatty and self-satisfied.

  Was she right? Had Chris really come alive when Zac was around? Did that mean her big transformations had less to do with the Peace, Love and Joy Center or California and more to do with Zac?

  It was possible. It made sense. It changed nothing.

  They worked on until the store was Valentined up the wazoo, then they put away the boxes and the ladder. Summer and Chris emerged from the office to find Eva holding a bottle of champagne and three plastic cups.

  “Now that’s done and looking fabulous, we are going to polish off this entire bottle of champagne, because we are celebrating.” She separated the cups and put them onto a table.

  “What are we celebrating?” Chris exchanged what-the-heck glances with Summer and the two women walked over to Eva. “Ames’s job?”

  “That, sure.” She eased out the cork, which emitted a satisfying thwunk.

  “Your move back to Slow Pour?” Summer asked.

  “That, sure.” Eva poured a glass and handed it to her.

  “You and Ames getting married someday?”

  “That, sure.” Eva handed Chris a glass and poured one for herself. “But mostly...”

  “Your pregnancy?” Chris asked sweetly.

  “Ack! No way.” Eva glared at her, then raised her glass up high and waited for them to do the same, looking slyly back and forth between them. “We are celebrating today, because some time tomorrow, outside this very shop, someone will be getting engaged.”