Dangerously Broken (21 page)

She slid onto a stool and was looking over the menu when Dennie sat down beside her and gave her a one-armed hug.

“What’s up, sweetie?”

“I just got here. Do you want something to drink? A sweet tea? Yes?” Summer turned to the waiter, who had ambled by their spot at the counter while pretending to ignore them. “Andre, two teas for us, please.”

“You ladies can have anything you want—you know that,” he said, flashing a wide grin at them, his voice running thick with his Cajun accent. “How ’bout a big plate of waffles covered in whipped cream? Some hot chocolate? That’s our Tuesday lunch special.”

Dennie laughed. “It is not. And we’re not thirteen anymore, Andre. And it’s hot enough to grill those waffles on the sidewalk.”

“Mmm-hmm. You are definitely not thirteen anymore. You want me to kick my wife out so you can be the one to resist my charms every night, Miss Dennie?”

Dennie shook her head. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Andre.”

“Oh, I am ashamed of m’self, ladies. But you can still come on over to my place anytime you want.” He winked at them and ambled off to get their teas.

Dennie chuckled. “He always has to try.”

“At this point I’d kind of be insulted if he didn’t. God, I’m starving. I need waffles!”

“You’re sassy today, missy.”

“Am I?” She looked at Dennie, who just sat there with her brows arched, waiting for Summer to tell her what was up with her. “Okay, I guess I am. And I know I’m beaming like a little girl with a new kitten.”

Dennie cleared her throat and muttered, “Your words, not mine.”

Summer shook her head. “I know. I know! I’m being ridiculous. You’d think I was sixteen again, only this time Jamie didn’t turn me away. I’ve actually got
butterflies
. Me, of all people.”

Dennie’s expression softened, and she reached over to cover Summer’s hand with hers. “Come on, hon. We’ve both always known the only man who would cause you butterflies was Jamie Stewart-Greer. And about time, too.”

“I’d just about given up on him. Well, I had. God, men are stupid.”

“They certainly are. So, how are you feeling about everything? Because I’ve known you practically our entire lives and I can tell there’s something going on behind that blissful smile.”

“I was sorta pretending there was nothing but the butterflies,” Summer said, her shoulders slouching.

“I’m sorry, Summer. Do you want to just keep pretending? I didn’t mean to bring you down.”

“No, I guess not.” She bit her lip. “No. That’s probably why I asked to get together today—not that I didn’t want to see you, of course, but I knew you’d call me on my shit, and I need it.”

Dennie looped an arm around her shoulder. “You just tell ol’ mama Den what’s bothering you, honeypie.”

Andre dropped off their teas and Summer paused to sip hers before taking a long breath and blowing it out slowly. “This whole thing is just sort of a mind-fuck for me. It’s pretty damn scary to have my fondest dreams handed to me on a silver platter.”

“What are you afraid of?” Dennie asked gently.

“That it’ll end up in some awful mess.”

“Because?”

Summer wiped the droplets off her ice tea glass with her thumb, keeping her gaze on the cool amber liquid. “Because that’s how things always go. My whole life.”

Dennie gave her a small shake. “Summer, my darlin’ friend, you listen to me. You do not deserve to lose out on this, you hear me?”

“What makes you think—”

“Because I
know
you, that’s why,” Dennie interrupted. “I know your fatalistic attitude. I know that’s why you’ve never let yourself connect with any man—that and your feelings for Jamie holding you back. But—and forgive me, but I’m going to be hard-ass honest with you right now—I also think maybe the reason you stopped pursuing Jamie was because you knew on some level that you’d both reached a point in your lives where he’d stop turning you away.”

Summer’s stomach went tight at her friend’s words. “Wow. You really know how to not hold back.”

“You know it’s because I love you, right? And because I think you have a few demons to face if things are going to work out with Jamie. I don’t want to see you keep getting in your own way.”

Summer nodded, taking a few moments to absorb it all. “You’re right. God, you’re right. I think maybe I’ve been getting in my own way my whole life, and not just with Jamie, or even just with men, but
everything
. Until recently, I never even allowed myself to get too close to any of my friends, other than you. I didn’t realize it until I started to really bond with Allie when she got back from Europe, and then with Rosie. It’s something I’ve been thinking about lately. It’s hard for me to get close to anyone, but I think I’m learning. I’m trying. And maybe it had to start with my female friends before I could get close to a man. To Jamie. I’m not sure I’m completely ready for that. I don’t know . . . I just don’t know if I can do it.”

“You have trust issues, honey, and I don’t blame you. But maybe it’s time to try to let that go.”

Summer’s eyes were pooling with tears. She sniffed, blinking as she squeezed Dennie’s hand. “Thanks for not pulling any punches. I needed the hard talk. You’re the only one I’d be able to hear it from. You’re the only one who would even know.”

“Except maybe Jamie,” Dennie suggested.

She nodded. “Yeah. Except for Jamie.”

Andre stopped in front of their spot at the counter with his notepad. “What are you two beautiful ladies going to have?”

They ordered, and after a bit more flirting Andre turned to get their food on the grill.

“You okay?” Dennie asked.

“Hmm? Yeah. Just thinking about what I need to do. What I need to tell him.”

“What haven’t you told him, honey?”

She turned to Dennie, her heart beating a thousand miles an hour. “I need to tell him that . . . I need to tell him I’m in love with him.”

*   *   *

J
AMIE PEERED AT
the computer screen on his desk at the shop, poring over figures for the build-out on the space next door where he and his cousin—who was due any minute—would open the motorcycle division of SGR Motors. He was excited about both things—seeing Duff for the first time in a few years and expanding the business. But Summer Grace was on his mind no matter what he tried to distract himself with.

He was out of his mind over this woman. He couldn’t get enough of her—her delicate little body, her beautiful blue eyes, the perfection that was her skin. The flawlessness of her submission—and he’d better not even think about that or he’d have yet another raging hard-on at work. But it was more than the sexual part of it—there was the emotional component, which was pretty damn potent.

Back to work.

He squinted at the computer screen, but all he could see was Summer Grace’s face. He ran both his hands over his buzz cut, rubbing his scalp.

“Headache, cousin?”

He whipped around to find Duff dwarfing the doorway of his office. He broke into a grin as he got up and grabbed Duff in a hug. His huge cousin pounded him on the back hard enough to make him cough.

Jamie pulled back. “Jesus, what the hell do they feed you in Scotland?”

“Haggis. Maybe you should have had more of it before you left, puny boy.”

“I’d hardly call six-foot-two puny, other than in comparison to you, you circus freak.”

“Aye, that I am,” Duff agreed good-naturedly. “Want to arm wrestle over it?”

“Fuck you. Hardly. How was your flight? And why wouldn’t you let me pick you up from the airport?”

“Ah, those airport greetings are far too emotional for me.”

Jamie grinned. “Are you telling me you might have cried, cousin?”

“No, but I thought
you
might, and I wasn’t prepared to deal with that—haven’t carried a hankie since . . . never. So what’s all the head rubbing about? Business?”

“What? No, the business stuff is all good. When you’ve had a chance to rest up I’ll show you the figures. Meanwhile, do you want to take a look at the space in person?”

“Fuck, yes.” Duff gave him another breath-stilting pounding on the back.

“All right—follow me.”

Jamie led the way outside, and used his new key to open the heavy padlock on the rusted metal door of the old building next to his.

“Welcome to SGR Motorcycles, your new baby.”

He swung the door up with a flourish and turned to catch Duff’s wide grin. The place was a mess of stained and crumbling concrete floors, with piles of junk left behind by the last tenants, but he could see Duff was as excited as he was about the place.

“I can’t believe we had to wait so damn long for this spot to be available,” Duff said, looking around the space. “Seems we’ve been talking about it for a good five years or more.”

“Well, we wouldn’t have had the money to do it right until now, anyway. I thought you could have your office up front, and all the bays over there, with plenty of secure storage in the back.”

Duff nodded his big shaved head. Jamie had always thought his cousin looked like a Scottish version of Mr. Clean.

“I’ll want to keep a good dozen bikes here at any time,” Duff told him.

“That was my thought, too. And maybe as many as twenty if we build in a riser so we have two levels.”

“Good idea.”

“We have a lot to talk about. The architect will meet with us in ten days.”

“Can’t wait. Meanwhile, cousin, where can I get a sit-down and a cold drink around here?”

“For me, you mean, since you don’t drink?” Jamie grinned at him. “Flynn McCools isn’t far—you remember the place? If you don’t mind the Irish, that is.”

“It’ll do since I’m off the booze and on the cola.”

“You feel up to walking?”

“I feel up to wrestling a fucking bear.”

Jamie laughed as he locked the metal door behind him. “Same old Duff.”

“Yeah. I’d say same old Jamie except something’s different.”

“Jesus. Really? I’m that transparent?”

“Apparently.”

They moved down the sidewalk while Jamie turned over in his head how much he wanted to reveal, how much he was even ready to deal with himself.

“I’m in love,” he blurted out, then muttered, “Fuck.”

Duff let his head fall back as he let out a roar of laughter. “So the bug finally bit you, did it? I’d guess it’s that same girl.”

“Yeah. It’s never been anyone else.”

“She sounds like a good one, anyway.”

“She is. She’s fucking amazing.”

“So what’s the trouble, then?”

Jamie shrugged. “Same shit as always.”

They were both quiet for a bit. The tourists were out in force, and it was only Duff’s unusual size that allowed them to pass through easily—people tended to part like the Red Sea for him. A few minutes later they stepped into the half-dark pub and found seats at the old polished wood bar. They ordered Jamie’s ale and a Coke for Duff, then sandwiches, and the barkeep set their drinks in front of them.

Duff took a long swallow. “Ah, that hits the spot, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Duff turned to look at him. “Happy to see me, are you?”

“Shit. I’m sorry, cousin. My head is all fucked up about Summer Grace.”

“Yeah, it is. You should do something about that.”

“Like what?”

“Like tell her you love her and want to marry her and bear her children and all that crap.”

Jamie laughed. “Get right to the point, why don’t you? And no one’s bearing children, and if they are, it sure as hell won’t be me.”

Children? With Summer Grace? He immediately shoved the thought to the back of his mind.

“Well, why not?” Duff asked. “No point in bullshitting you. Is there any point in you bullshitting her?”

“Maybe there is.”

“Well, you’d better figure it the fuck out, cousin, because we have business to attend to.”

Jamie ran a hand over his head. “Yeah. You’re right. Don’t worry—I’ll keep the business end of things going.”

“Damn right. I didn’t move halfway across the world to have you slack off.”

“You are one hard-ass motherfucker.”

Duff grinned. “Yeah, I am.” He downed the rest of his Coke and ordered another. “You going to tell me what you plan to do about the girl?” he demanded.

“Maybe after I figure it out myself.”

“Take some advice from an old bastard who knows nothing about women—don’t wait too long. Women only have so much patience, you know. Don’t fuck it up the way I did with Bess.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself about that,” Jamie started.

Duff arched one dark brow. “Oh no? I can’t agree with you, cousin. But let’s leave that argument for another day.”

He shrugged. “No problem.”

He’d leave Duff alone about why his ex-girlfriend had left him just over a year ago, but he couldn’t leave himself alone about Summer Grace. He was afraid his cousin was right—that if he didn’t figure out what the hell was up with him and what he wanted, the woman of his dreams would decide she’d waited long enough for him. And he was equally afraid—maybe more so—that if he told her how he felt and the relationship went any deeper, he’d end up losing her in some terrible way. There didn’t seem to be any happy scenario when he turned it over in his head.

But Goddamn it, he loved her. And Duff was right—he shouldn’t wait any longer. As he downed another long gulp of the cool ale he decided: he’d get his cousin settled into his apartment, then he’d go find Summer Grace and tell her.

His gut twisted, but he ordered himself to calm down. Control was everything—always had been—and this was no different. He needed to man up. And apparently he’d needed his giant of a cousin to remind him. He’d go to her tonight.

*   *   *

J
AMIE HAD STOPPED
by his place to take a quick shower, then left Duff there to sleep off his jet lag before heading over to Summer Grace’s place in the Gentilly district.

He downshifted the Corvette as he turned off the busier street and into her quiet neighborhood. Pulling to the curb in front of her house, he got out, stretching his long legs, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans. He had to pull in a long breath, blinking up at the sky, which had just gone dark. There were some clouds backlit by the moon and the stars, and the air was heavy and sweet with the tang of flowers. A typical New Orleans summer night. Except there was nothing typical about it—not in his lifetime. He was about to tell Summer Grace he loved her.