Summer's Surrender Read online

  “Thanks. She did say someone was looking to buy the Donaldson’s Hardware store.”

  Jolene moved to the checkout counter and put her computer bag on a shelf below the cash register. “Who’d want that old building?” Jolene asked as she straightened up. “Oh, I passed my calculus exam with flying colors.”

  Pride swelled in Summer, lightening her heart. She wrapped her assistant in a bear hug. “That’s wonderful. So proud of you.”

  Jolene wasn’t just Summer’s assistant—she was more like a third sister. Jolene had needed a job last summer. Summer needed a second person in the shop. Fate brought them together and they’d been the best of friends since. Jolene had turned eighteen that summer. And she was set to start her freshman year of college that fall.

  Jolene liked working for Summer, so they forged an agreement. Jolene worked in the morning and evening while attending afternoon classes. Summer allowed Jolene to tackle her studies while she was working and often helped Jolene along the way. The arrangement suited both of them.

  Summer caught a flash of coral and white out of the corner of her eye. Autumn had stepped onto the sidewalk in front of Donaldson’s Hardware, waving when she spotted her.

  Autumn loved her fashions. She had paired white capri pants with a coral blouse. Light brown espadrilles completed the ensemble. A brightly hued headband held her golden-toned hair out of her face.

  “Do you want your regular?” Summer returned the duster to its designated spot.

  “Yep. Large coffee with cream and sugar.”

  “I’ll be back. I’m going to meet Autumn, and then get our java.”

  Morning sunlight bombarded her when she stepped onto the sidewalk, causing her to shield her eyes. For the second time today, she traversed Main Street, but this time she strode into the old hardware store.

  “Good morning,” Autumn said. “How are you?”

  The store was empty except for a couple of old pegboard floor stands. “I’m good. I can’t imagine who’d want this old, run-down shell.” Dirt, dust, and debris littered the floor and remaining shelves. “The store even smells ancient.” The dust was visibly floating in the air, caught in a sunbeam, tickling Summer’s nose.

  A sly grin crossed Autumn’s face. Summer’s eyes narrowed as she studied her. She and Autumn were complete opposites looks-wise. Autumn, who mirrored her mother’s height, was five-foot, four-inches tall. Her alluring curves always caught men’s attention—that was when they weren’t staring at her boobs. Summer, who inherited her father’s height, stood at five-foot, ten-inches tall, with gentle curves and modest commodities. Their mother always told her she was willowy and elegant, much like a ballerina, while her sister was built like a pole dancer.

  But the siblings never competed for a man’s attention. Both women were career oriented and dated only when they had time, which wasn’t very often.

  Autumn was still grinning.

  “Okay, why are you sporting that I’m-up-to-something smile?” Summer’s hands fisted on her hips. “It’s devious and unnerving.”

  Autumn’s smile broadened. “My buyer is very interested in this building.”

  “I don’t know why that would concern me.”

  Her sister beckoned someone from the outside.

  Summer whirled around. “What the hell?” she muttered. The buzzer sounded as a man entered. “What have you done?” she whispered to her sister under her breath.

  A quick flash of surprise widened his eyes before he collected himself. Summer doubted she was the only person set up with this reunion.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll thank me...eventually,” Autumn answered before greeting the visitor. “Welcome back, Ian.”

  Accepting the handshake Autumn offered, he said, “It’s great to see you again.” He faced Summer. “How are you?”

  His obsidian eyes swept the length of her, up and down, his gaze leaving a trail of goose pimples on her skin. The man had been able to set her aflame when she was eighteen. And he was still able to now.

  As much as she reacted to him sexually, he also set her teeth on edge, infuriating her.

  “I’m fine, Ian.” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you were in Dover.”

  A black eyebrow rose as he looked at Autumn.

  “Ah…it must have slipped my mind,” she said in defense of herself. A broad grin belied that comment.

  Summer’s eyes narrowed again. “Uh-huh. Sure.” She faced Ian. “So, are you here for good?”

  He leaned against a pegboard display, arms crossed over his chest and his feet crossed at the ankle. “Would you like me to be back for good, Summer?”

  The man was still an Adonis. His hair had been longer when he’d left Dover, not its current style of short on the side, longer on top, which accentuated his stunningly handsome face. High, slashing cheekbones left shadowed hollows that accented his straight nose and intense onyx eyes. His tall frame—about six inches taller than hers—was showcased in denim and a gray thermal shirt with a white t-shirt over it. He still looked every bit a rock star.

  He had worn Doc Martens when he’d moved and still wore them now. They looked well-worn and were likely the same pair.

  Her gaze met his. “What I wanted never mattered. Why would it now? It’s your life. You chose Los Angeles and wild parties full of alcohol and drunk groupies.” She shrugged.

  “Is that what you think?” A muscle in his jaw twitched as he straightened to full height and crowded her. His breath bathed her neck in warmth, his goatee brushed against her highly sensitized skin, causing her to tremble and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “Is that what you think? We wanted each other before.”

  Before she could stop herself, her hand was resting on his chest. Good Lord, his pecs were solid. Her mind flashed to the look of his body at twenty-two years old, the last time she’d seen him in person. He was built then. Bitterness flashed hot, tangling desire and darkness, mixing pleasure with regret.

  He laughed softly. “And it looks like we still want each other.”

  His tone, low and seductive, wrapped around her mind. She couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t permit him to weave a sorcerer’s spell around her. Instead, she allowed the question to stoke the fire, adding fuel to it. She shoved him backward. He stumbled into the display rack, but stayed on his feet.

  Her chest heaved with each inhalation. “You arrogant, egotistical bastard,” she hissed. “It’s good that I think with my brain and not my body these days.”

  “Whoa.” Autumn stepped between them. “No need for pushing and shoving.”

  “Goodbye, Ian.” She faced her traitorous sister. “I’ll deal with you later.”

  “Ha. You love me and you know it,” Autumn retorted.

  “I don’t know why.” Summer risked a quick glance at Ian. Heat banked in his eyes, sending scorching waves over her, mixing with anger, leaving her needy...and pissed off.

  She raced out, only slowing to check for traffic, and then darted to the coffee shop, her flat-heeled shoes scraping over the sidewalk as she speed-walked. It was then that she noticed the owner, her younger sister, placing sugar and creamer containers atop three bistro tables she’d placed outside her shop.

  Raine spun toward her. “Hey, Summ... What’s wrong? Do you need to sit?”

  Concern laced her eyes. Of the three sisters, Raine was the most empathetic, which made her an excellent people person and coffee shop owner.

  “I’m fine. Need a couple of coffees and to say hi to Nana.”

  “I saw you coming out of the old hardware store. I saw a man go in right after you.”

  Summer snorted. “That man—and I use the term loosely—was Ian Jacobs.”

  Raine’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know he was back in town.”

  Summer pushed her hair off her face, gathering it at the nape of her neck and pulling it over her shoulder. “Apparently, it slipped Autumn’s mind.”

  Raine shook her head. “Why that conniving…” She shook her head again. �
�Not where I want to go. Are you okay? I know he hurt you.” She rested her hand on Summer’s shoulder.

  “You mean ripped my heart out and stomped it into the dirt like I never mattered,” Summer replied with a sigh. Tears stung her eyes, but she’d vowed two years ago not to cry over him. Some days had been better than others, but she’d manage to live without him and his love.

  Raine squeezed her shoulder. “It’s always going to hurt, because you loved him.”

  Summer sniffled delicately and frowned. “Thank you for that tidbit of wisdom.”

  “Yeah, well.” She squeezed Summer’s shoulder again before dropping her hand. “You know I’m always here for you, no matter what, day or night, don’t you?”

  She knew. A bond existed between her and her sister. They were the most alike. Summer loved Autumn, but Raine had a heart the size of Texas and a big shoulder. Both of which she had been grateful for and had used on more than one occasion.

  “I know. I love you. And as far as Ian is concerned,” she said as she shook her head, “what’s done is done.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Raine returned to cleaning the tables, not meeting her sister’s glare.

  “No maybe not.” There’d be no Ian and Summer. That chapter had no happy ending.

  Summer had loved Ian. She thought he’d loved her.

  He had played guitar since he was six and became accomplished with the instrument. On a whim, when he’d turned twenty-two, he’d tried out to be lead guitarist and front man for the band Urban Flood. He’d auditioned and won. The band whisked him to Los Angeles. It had all happened so fast that Summer and Ian never had a chance to say goodbye. Soon after that, rumors flitted about, telling of his struggle with the whiskey bottle.

  So much had changed. Yes, she assumed he’d loved her, but it turned out he loved the limelight more. Yes, the wound still stung at times and would be reopened now that he was back in Dover.

  “I took you back to the split up, didn’t I?” Raine asked.

  “Yeah, but I would’ve one way or the other. I’d prefer to do it in front of someone like you.” She shrugged. “Anyhow, I need to grab me and Jolene’s coffee before she hunts me down and skins me for making her go through caffeine withdrawal.”

  Summer entered Raine’s shop, and right away her senses were assaulted with the rich aroma of coffee and the sweet smell of donuts. She recognized most of patrons and waved in greeting. The place was full, which wasn’t unusual for mid-morning. Early mornings were Raine’s busiest times, but business was consistently steady.

  The interior of the shop fascinated her. The walls were adorned with a local artist’s renderings of large mugs, coffee beans, and a bean grinder, while the flooring was espresso-hued porcelain tiles. Creamer-colored countertops graced the donut cases. Fifteen tables fit close together, creating a charming ambiance.

  Amid muttered words of welcome, Summer walked toward the counter.

  “How are you this morning, Summer?” Delilah Cromwell, the owner of Chic Hair Designs, asked, flipping her abundance of bleached blonde hair over her shoulder.

  “Just fine. I’m due for a trim.” She ran a hand over her long hair, realizing the truth in her statement. “My bangs need shaping.”

  “That hairstyle suits you so well. Plus, the natural golden blonde tone is so becoming. You just call whenever, sweetie.”

  “Will do.” Summer spun toward the counter. “Hey, Melissa.”

  “The normal?”

  “Yeah. Get me a large cream and sugar as well, please.”

  “Sure thing. Take a seat, and I’ll bring them to you.”

  Nana’s usual habit was sitting at the corner table. Summer spotted her grandmother. The top of her head, shining blonde streaked with silver, poked out above the newspaper. Despite her retirement, she maintained an active lifestyle, which started every morning with coffee at her youngest grandchild’s shop.

  “Hey, Nana.”

  She laid the paper down. “Hi, darling. How are you today?”

  Summer lowered herself onto a chair. “Fit as a fiddle.”

  Nana studied her for a moment. “You don’t look so fit,” she said after scrutinizing her granddaughter.

  Summer ran her hand through her hair. “Yeah, well. Autumn set me up. Ian is back.”

  “Oh dear on both counts. You know your sister means well, don’t you?”

  Summer nodded. Her brain told her she’d survived without him for two years, that she would survive a life without him. Her heart argued, telling her what it wanted. And it wanted Ian. Right now, she had no idea if she should hug Autumn or strangle her.

  “Are you okay?” Nana asked.

  Summer nibbled on a fingernail. “Yeah. That was two years ago.” She shrugged. “He has his life, and I have mine.”

  “I figured you’d say that. Have you seen him yet?”

  Summer nodded.

  “And what happened?”

  The corners of Summer’s mouth lifted. “I...ah...pushed him into a display stand.”

  Nana patted her hand. “That’s my girl.”

  “The problem is, I was immediately drawn to him again. He looked at me and I was transported to two years ago. What is wrong with me?” Frustration niggled her. She prided herself on being a levelheaded person. But one look at Ian and her transistors crossed, turning her into a man-shoving madwoman.

  “There isn’t a thing wrong with you, darling. You remember Auntie Emmi, don’t you? She married your great Uncle Dean twice. Different situation, I know, but the result is likely the same. They fought and bickered every day. She’d complain to me all the time. They divorced. A year and a half later, she realized how much she needed him in her life, that she loved him and wanted to work beyond the petty fights. A year later, they remarried. They’ve been a cohesive unit since. Sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants. And...” She paused, squeezing her granddaughter’s hand. “And sometimes you have to listen.”

  Melissa set a cup carrier with two coffees in it on the table. Summer rose, slipping her hand into her pants pocket and withdrawing a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change, hon,” she said to Melissa and then faced Nana. “I have to get back to the store.”

  “Take care, dearie. Oh, I almost forgot, I’m going on a bus trip to Atlantic City tomorrow. I won’t be here in the morning.”

  “Have a fun and safe trip. I love you.” She kissed her grandma’s cheek.

  “Just remember you loved him once.”

  “I know.”

  Summer bid her sister goodbye and strode slowly two buildings down, her mind stuck on Ian. The man had taken her heart and more when she was eighteen. He couldn’t take her virginity again, but he could take her heart.

  She’d have to decide if he’d toss it away again, or hold on for dear life.

  * * * *

  “So, what do you think, Ian? Will this property suit your needs?” Autumn asked.

  He gave the store a once-over. Old shelving units still lined the floor space. Three rows of both open and pegboard type displays stood where they must’ve for years. He imagined the floor underneath to be clean and devoid of stains, unlike the vinyl flooring that had been exposed to years of foot traffic. Shelves lined each sidewall, again both open and peg style.

  He rubbed his chin as he responded, “The space is the right size for what I plan to do. But in its current condition, the building wouldn’t work. And I’m not sure I’d like to incur the cost of gutting this place and redoing everything.”

  “That’s not a problem. Edmond—Mr. Donaldson, that is—agreed to clear the building if a potential buyer wasn’t interested in what remained.”

  Ian imagined what the store would look like without the old shelving units and the dirt and dust. He glanced at one wall and his mind’s eye saw an array of guitars and basses in every color hanging gracefully. A set or two of drums would sit in the rear of the room. Wind and string instruments would line the other wall. Newer floor units would hold picks, drumsticks, and other ass
orted implements.

  “Yes, I think I could get this to work for me with the right interior designer. Now, about the price. Mr. Donaldson wants two-hundred ninety-thousand. I’ll write a check today for two-hundred seventy.” Ian’s stern tone meant business, leaving no room for any misunderstandings.

  “Let me call Mr. Donaldson right now and discuss your offer.” She pulled her cellphone from the holder attached to her belt.

  “I’ll be outside. Let me know what he says.”

  “Okay. This shouldn’t take long.”

  Ian stepped outside, and his focus targeted the candle shop across the street where Summer had walked to moments earlier. She’d dressed in slim-fitting pants, a peach button-up sweater with a white tank underneath, and brown shoes. He smiled to himself when he could still recall any detail about her at any time. It was made easier when the outfit hugged every gorgeous, graceful curve of her body.

  He had her once upon a time.

  With a sad shake of his head, he centered his focus up the block to the small church on the opposite side of the street nestled between an insurance company and a florist. He’d be there every Wednesday night for the next few months...or years. Ian was at a loss as to how long the road to recovery would be.

  Regret and anger tripped his pulse into high gear as it did when he remembered his past and how he’d screwed up. Anguish for being as weak as his father and resentment for allowing it to happen. His father had hit the liquor hard, which caused him to spend long stints in prison, eventually dying there from liver failure. Victor Jacobs had drunk his life away. Ian wasn’t his father and never would be.

  His mind taunted him, telling him a drink would go down easy right now.

  The indignation was swift and all-consuming, causing him to close his hands into tight, white-knuckled fists. It took all his self-control to keep the shakes at bay. Alcohol as an excuse was the biggest part of his problem. If he had a bad day, whiskey was the answer. If he sang or played guitar poorly, whiskey was the answer. Whiskey answered everything.

  Ian was a realist. He had been sober for three months—three of the hardest months of his life thanks to quitting abruptly and the withdrawal symptoms that followed. But they’d allowed him to see clearer than he had in two years.