Chapter 18

Riley stalked his way around the gray granite-topped island like a sleek leopard restlessly pacing its cage. “I tried to tell you. Before. When I explained about the anxiety attacks.”

Yeah, she got it. He wanted an A for effort. Summer was far from inclined to grade on a curve until she heard everything. “What did you stop yourself from telling me?”

“That you undermine my control.”

“I do not.” Except, even as the words came out of her mouth, Summer realized Riley had probably hit the nail on the head. Because she did poke and prod him to lose control. Or at least relinquish it a little bit.

“You do. I’ve recognized it since day one. You flirt and push and charm and get people to do what you want.”

“I’m not a mind control guru,” she snapped. Summer’s hackles rose as he continued to make accusations.

Because Riley was a grown-up. A man who made his own decisions. A man with extremely strong opinions, who happened to be the least likely person to fall prey to coercion that she knew. If her charm, if her powers of flirtation were that off the charts? She would have…well, she would’ve slept with George Clooney by now. And had Matt Damon on hand to watch, just for kicks. Her apartment rent would be at least 50 percent lower. The whole thing was ridiculous.

And it left Summer coated with a thin, greasy film of guilt.

In case he was right. Or at least, closer to right than she was.

“I’m not saying you did it on purpose,” Riley continued in a fast splatter of words. “You wouldn’t. Especially not if you knew how it would affect me. You can be snarky, even bitchy when warranted, but you’re not mean.”

All fair points. “Then what are you saying?”

“It’s not you. It’s me.”

Omigod. Her throat closed as her belly clenched. Every woman in the world knew what that phrase meant. Knew that it was a nonnegotiable run for the exit. Summer had used it herself more than once. “You have to be fucking kidding me.” How did a man bring her dinner, bring her an adorable present, and then break up with her five minutes later? Summer paced to the opposite end of the room. She didn’t want to be close enough to give in to the urge to knee him in the balls.

Or to throw herself on him and beg him not to go.

She whirled, mouth open, ready to unleash on Riley. Instead, he crossed to her in three huge steps and grabbed her by the arms.

“God, I’m sorry. That came out—well, it came out the worst possible way. I didn’t mean it the way you obviously think. I’m not breaking up with you.”

A lock of his brown hair tumbled over his forehead. Riley kept himself so pulled together all the time that she was an absolute pushover for his tousled look. But it would take more than sexy hair to clear the air. Summer crossed her arms, shaking off his grip. “Let’s just see where this conversation goes in the next five minutes before you make that unilateral decision.”

“I meant—literally—that you haven’t done anything wrong. Anything malicious. Anything to knowingly set me off. It’s all me.” Riley thumped his fist against his sternum. “My fault for not telling you about this issue up front.” Another thump. “My fault for being so stuck in my head, stuck in my routine. I keep what I can under control. I always keep myself under control. Because I’m scared to death of what will happen if I don’t.”

Summer wasn’t a psychiatrist. But this didn’t sound like anxiety to her. It sounded like a fear of anxiety. She grabbed his fist. Sandwiched it between her palms. “Okay. Break it down for me. What would happen?”

“I wasn’t in control when the accident happened. I wasn’t in control at all after it happened.” His green eyes darkened to the color of a forest during a storm. “Santos died. We all almost died. I felt…God, not being in control, not being able to help yourself fucking survive. It was horrible. When I got home, that fear got worse. That it would happen again. Like all the air left the room. Like whatever I did next—even if I was just walking down the hall to the bathroom—would end up hurting me. Or worse, someone else.”

“You’re only safe if you control everything.”

“Right.” A sharp, bitter laugh escaped his lips. “Well, not right at all. But that’s the work-around my mind came up with to deal with the anxiety. To keep it at bay. And you, with your spontaneity and your desire to leap before looking, you threaten that control. Hell, you shred it like a cheese grater. So yeah, I was surprised that talking to you the other night made me feel calmer. More in control.”

Well, that did explain a lot of things. Summer just had to figure out what to say next.

If Riley was just a friend, she’d barrel ahead without thinking twice. Blunt honesty was kind of her trademark. If he was one of the guys Summer dated for half a second before moving on, she wouldn’t waste her time on trying to help him. But he was in a category all by himself. More than a friend. Definitely more than any of her other numerous flash-in-the-pan guys. Whatever he was, it made her want to be more careful with him. More…aware of the impact her words could have.

So with a great deal of caution, Summer asked, “Do you think maybe it’s a crutch?”

Riley gave a gentle flick to her forehead. “Uh, yeah. Of course. One that works.”

“I didn’t mean in a pop psychology way. You were medicated for a while to help prevent anxiety attacks, right?”

“Yep. They finally stopped completely a couple of years before I joined the NTSB and decided I had to go cold turkey.”

That certainly bolstered her theory. Summer didn’t want to push too hard. But she did want to get through to Riley. Giving him physical space while crowding in on his brain seemed like a good plan. She beckoned him to follow her into the living room, where she sat on a low gray couch.

“Cold turkey’s pretty abrupt. Hardcore. When people get out of a cast, or a brace, and still feel weak but are ready to move ahead, they use crutches for added support. Sometimes it isn’t physically necessary. They just need to know the backup is there.”

Riley walked over to the window. Braced one hand on the frame and stared out at some treetops. “You think I decided total control would be my support? My backup?”

“Maybe. Which was something you needed to take that bold leap. I just don’t think you need it anymore. You’ve proven to yourself a hundred times over that you are in control. You don’t need the extra façade of trying so hard to be.”

There were long moments of silence. Too many for Summer’s comfort. Had she gone too far? Pushed too hard?

Finally he turned around. “That’s…interesting. Eye-opening.”

“You’re not mad?” Because he had every right to be, with her just tossing out a theory. No matter how good her intentions, Riley was entitled to his own emotional response.

“Not at you. The more I think about it, I might be a little mad at myself.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead. Gave a rueful almost-laugh. “But I’m glad you said what you did. Ultimately, I’m sure it’ll help.”

Summer lifted her chin. “Good.” When really she felt like doing pirouettes around the room. If she’d lifted even an ounce of guilt and stress and anxiety off his shoulders, it was worth it.

“You’ve got a talent for shaping your thoughts into a truth that can help someone.” Riley balanced on the arm of the couch, with one leg bent across the cushions as a stabilizer. “You were terrific on the podcast. Why don’t you do more motivational speeches? Turn it from a hobby into a whole second career?”

Geez. Just because he might be sloughing off his own anxiety didn’t mean that Riley needed to shift hers into high gear. Careers meant a long-term, future-focused plan. Which always broke Summer out into emotional hives. No point in planning for a future when there was a perfectly good chance that it would never come.

“I’m a dabbler. I don’t plan as far ahead as a ‘career.’ ”

“Bullshit.” Riley wagged a finger right in her face. “You don’t call your store a career?”

Absolutely not. Not if she wanted to sleep at night. What was this—self-actualization revenge? “It’s a phase. Something fun I’m trying until I get bored.”

“It’s way more than that. Don’t you see? You’ve built something.”

“And there’s a whole team in China that builds entire towns out of dominoes. Just to tap the one on the end after months of progress to watch the whole thing collapse. I don’t plan to wait for Fate to make me crumble. Forever Summer isn’t a long-term career for me.” Not because she didn’t like it, or thought it was a bad fit. Simply because “long-term” wasn’t in her vocabulary.

“I call bullshit again. You’ve grown it so much that you’re trying to expand it with this Web launch.”

Summer scrambled to defend her actions. To prove to Riley that he couldn’t possibly be right. Because she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t accidentally build something with an eye toward the future. “That’s just good business. I minored in it, you know. Simply trying to survive in today’s economy.”

“That’s thumbing your nose at the unknown.” Riley tapped the end of her nose with one finger. She tried to be annoyed. Kind of leaned more toward being charmed by the cute gesture. Damn it. “That’s planning ahead. That’s not surviving. That’s thriving.”

Riley’s words were setting off a domino effect of anxiety inside her. Guess turnabout was fair play. “I thought we were talking about your issues?”

“It just so happens that you’re currently one of my biggest issues. I don’t know what to do about you, Summer. On paper you’re wrong for me. You’re dangerous for me. You make me try things I don’t want to, or aren’t ready for. Somehow I don’t regret any of it, even though I worry that someday I will.”

Ouch. Again, what Riley was saying made sense. It wasn’t intentionally hurtful. It was honest.

But it did hurt.

And Summer didn’t want to hurt him. A month ago she would’ve happily short-sheeted his bed, or taken a little too much pleasure if he got a parking ticket. Not now. Not now that she truly knew, truly saw Riley. Truly loved…

Whoa.

No.

Did she? Summer had never fallen in love before. Hadn’t been tempted—and hadn’t wanted to risk it. Love seemed to be the ultimate taunt to Fate and the future. The ultimate commitment to believing in the future, and desperately wanting one.

It was too big a thing to wrap her mind around. The furthest Summer could go was that maybe, perhaps, possibly she was falling in love with Riley. Which made what he’d just said to her all the more cutting. More painful.

“I don’t want to be a regret for you,” she said softly. “I…I care too much to inflict any pain on you.”

Riley slid off the arm and scooted over to put his arm around her shoulder. The change in position brought him so close. Made their conversation a hundred percent more intimate, when she could see every golden glint in his eyes, and the way they blazed with the fervor and intensity that always knocked her socks—and her panties—off.

“You’re not getting it. I said that’s how you come off on paper. Because I’m damn near obsessed with quantifying things. Lists and reasons, cause and effect. The thing is, though? The effect you have on me, Summer, can’t be summed up in a report.”

Now she was just confused. “That’s good, right?”

For a second, her own confusion was mirrored back to her in his eyes. “Hardly. I’m going against every instinct, every rationale that springs to mind. All I can do is think about how much I like being with you. Laughing with you. Sharing everything with you.” Riley gripped her hands as tight as if he was underwater and she was his lifeline to the surface of a very deep pond. “I’ve fallen for you, Summer. Head over heels. I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense. I don’t care how hard it might make things. I need you.”

Honestly? Her first thought was joy that they were on the same page. Quickly followed by relief that he hadn’t used the no-turning-back-from L-word. The one Summer absolutely wasn’t ready to deal with. Did that mean they were actually perfect for each other? Did that mean that love was on the very near horizon?

She kept butting up against how it smacked of the future. Which meant it—the happiness of being in love—could be taken away from her in the blink of an eye. Was giving in to it worth that potential pain? Wouldn’t it be safer to not take that step? Wasn’t protecting herself, her heart, the smartest thing to do? The thing a survivor—how Summer had identified herself since that fateful day a decade ago—would do?

Except…Summer didn’t think she had a choice in the matter. You couldn’t logic away emotions, feelings. So she squeezed his hands tightly. “I’m falling for you, too, Riley. Harder than I ever have before. Harder than I ever thought I would.”

Summer basked in his bright smile for a minute, knowing that she was sending the same right back. It was like they were breathing each other in. Wasn’t that just romantic and corny and…wonderful?

Her whole life was about doing what felt good. And being with Riley felt amazing. The only way to be true to herself was to admit that. Right now. In a near-whisper, she said, “I’ve tried a lot of things, but never falling in love.”

Riley touched his forehead to hers. “Me neither. Maybe we give it a try? Together?”

The words wouldn’t come. They were clogged in her throat, behind the tears threatening to well up and out. So Summer nodded. And then Riley kissed her. Tenderly. Softly, nudging at her upper lip, then sliding his tongue along the inside of her bottom lip. The sweetness of it cracked that last shell of hard protection around her heart. The one that had never worried about the future before, much less expected it.

The lightness of the swoop of his tongue raised goosebumps all over her body. The good kind. Where instead of reaching for a blanket, you wanted to rip off all of your clothes. She didn’t, though. Summer wanted to make love with Riley more than anything. Slowly. Savoring each moment, each one filled with greater meaning, greater weight, greater beauty than any other time they’d come together. This time was different.

They kissed and kissed and kissed, each kiss more drugging and dreamy than the last. It might’ve lasted five minutes. Thirty. An hour. Summer lost track. Lost count of each glide and thrust of lips and tongue. Each murmured compliment and encouragement that came from Riley in a steady stream that simultaneously turned her on and turned her to mush. The heat where their thighs pressed together. The way his hands kept running through her hair…which raised more goosebumps every time they did.

At some point he’d pulled out the elastic in her ponytail. Along the way she’d unbuttoned his shirt to his navel. He must’ve untied the wide bow acting as a belt for her pants. Each step in disrobing was so organic that Summer hadn’t consciously done it or noticed when he had.

Finally, the path his lips took when they dipped onto her neck moved lower, lower, straight onto her nipple. He’d pulled her breast up, free of the bra and the top. No material separated them. And it drove Summer wild. She thrust her arms inside his shirt to push it off his broad shoulders. The ones that looked as though they could hold the entire weight of the world and keep it from her. Keep her safe.

Each swirl of his tongue was mirrored on her other breast with the palm of his hand. Her palms were busy languorously sweeping across his back. Smooth skin over taut muscles. Sinew and bone and that magnificently ripped body that was such a sexy surprise when Summer got him out of that boring suit.

Their movements were less frantic this time. Still purposeful, driven, and overflowing with passion and need, but slower, as though they were swimming in a deep pool. Taking their time enhanced each sensation tightening her nerve endings. It made Summer’s head spin.

Riley stood. “Don’t move. Don’t even blink until I get back.” His footsteps thundered into the kitchen. When he came back, it was with two dish towels. He laid them across the couch.

“You’re protecting the couch?”

“It’s not ours. Right thing to do.” Then he quickly stripped out of the rest of his clothes and put on a condom.

Omigod. Summer couldn’t decide between laughing and crying. This responsible, steady, always-looking-ten-steps-ahead man was protecting a couch. It was ridiculous. It was sensible. It was something that never would’ve occurred to her, being too caught up in the spontaneity of the moment. But Riley was right. Her attitude was careless, selfish. Disrespectful to the friend who’d loaned the condo to her. And Riley’s solution took less than a minute.

So instead of laughing, Summer marveled at how his brain never stopped turning over angles of how to make a situation better. Whether out of an actual concern for safety or simple courtesy.

God, it was scary how much she adored him.

She wanted to catch up. Started to unbutton her pants. His hand closed over hers.

“Let me.” It came out as a rough growl that she wouldn’t dream of refusing.

Riley unwrapped Summer as though she were a blown-glass treasure. As he pulled up her shirt with two fingers on each side, he let the other long, limber fingers drag lightly and oh-so-slowly over each rib, each inch of flesh being bared. Her arms raised overhead to help; he left the shirt tangled about her wrists, twisting them together.

“Stay like that. I want to look at all of you.”

Fine. Summer had zero objection, since she was drinking her fill of him in the mix of rapidly graying twilight and the orange glow from the streetlights. He was lithe and magnificent, tanned, with a connected series of rippling muscles that made her mouth water. Scarred, probably from soccer games over the years, as well as the accident. That only made him sexier.

And then her eyes fluttered shut, because he was licking a zigzag path across her stomach and breasts. While his nimble, clever fingers made quick work of her zipper. Tiny tremors shook her, inside and out. A tiny pre-orgasm—while she was still half-dressed—from the mere flutter of a tongue across her achingly tight nipple.

Riley slid down her pants. Again, inch by agonizingly slow inch. At this point her hips were already pistoning, left and right as well as up and down, as though doing a horizontal lap dance just for him. Because staying still was impossible. Not when his hair brushed against one thigh as he seared a line of heat with his lips down the inside of the other. He spread her legs to get at the back of her knee. Turned her leg to lick the indent at the side of her ankle. When she couldn’t stand the sweet torture a moment more, he somehow knew.

Kneeling on the giant loops of the ecru rug, Riley took himself in hand and held the tip right at her entrance. “Look at us, together, Summer.” Eyes locked on the sensual sight, his hard length penetrating her folds as slowly as he’d done everything else.

He filled her. He filled her heart. He filled her mind. He filled spaces Summer hadn’t realized were empty. Riley joined with her. Made the two of them into something singular and wonderful. The layers of emotion on top of his insistent hardness set off a cascade of intense sensation before he was even fully seated. Quivering everywhere in release, she screamed his name, over and over until it filled the brick-walled room as fully as Riley filled her.

Evidently he’d been at the breaking point, too. Three deep thrusts were all it took before his hands tightened on her forearms. Before the cords in his neck stood out, his hands locked around hers like a vise, and he groaned, “Sweet Jesus, Summer,” as his entire body shook.

After the earth stopped moving and Summer had the strength to open her eyes, she said, “That was—”

“—different,” Riley finished for her. Then he kissed her so sweetly, so deeply, it said all the words she was still scared to verbalize. It was a kiss full of promises and tenderness. Riley was just full of surprises tonight.

“We should probably eat the dinner you braved the crowds to buy.”

“Do you need to get more work done tonight?”

Yes. But she wouldn’t. Wouldn’t be able to concentrate. Wouldn’t do anything but think about how much she wanted to be with Riley. So why not indulge herself as they charted this new course together? “No. Do you?”

“No.” His overly dramatic shake of the head told Summer that Riley’s answer was as big a lie as her own.

That was fine by her.