Not Over You

Her eyes flew open, and she made herself scoot away, but his arm shot out again and pulled her back.



With a little sigh, she gave in again, with the knowledge that come tomorrow, she’d be stronger.



***



Summer wasn’t stronger the next day, especially after a bright, green convertible VW Bug was delivered to his house. He’d even had it wrapped in a bright pink bow.



It wasn’t the present itself that had made her weak; it was the meaning behind it. Still, she steeled herself, thanked him sweetly, and swore to be stronger the next day. Unfortunately, she failed miserably, and continued to do so, day after day.



She was weak, completely and utterly weak.



Why just yesterday afternoon, Gabriel had stopped by, locked the door to Carolina Dreams, and carried her upstairs, where they spent the rest of the day in bed. He’d been more than a little enthusiastic when she climbed on top of him and rode him backwards. His hands had cupped her breasts and his hot breath had scalded the skin behind her ear.



Jemma Leigh snapped her fingers at Summer, and she blinked, face heating.



“I’m sorry. What did you say?” she asked.



“Newlyweds.” Smiling a little, Jemma Leigh patted her hand. “Have you two even finished opening all the wedding presents? I’ll be happy to help you with all the thank you cards.”



“Oh, I’ll let you know.” Summer hadn’t opened a single present, because she planned to return every single one of them. “Speaking of presents.” Summer reached into her purse and drew out a scroll, with a bright pink bow tied around the middle. “This is for you.”



Jemma Leigh clapped. “You remembered my birthday!”



No. “Yes.”



“But I don’t remember telling you, and we’re not Facebook friends.” She frowned.



Summer had been wanting to buy Jemma Leigh something to thank her for all of her help, but it wasn’t until a day after Gabriel had shown her Corona Borealis that it hit her what she could get Jemma Leigh.



“Actually, I didn’t know it was your birthday.” Summer handed the scroll to Jemma Leigh. “I bought this just because.”



The squee that came from Jemma Leigh’s mouth made the birds that had been pecking near their feet fly away. “You named a star after me!” She placed a hand over her heart, giving Summer a beatific smile. “I don’t know what to say.”



“Nothing to say,” Summer began nervously, “because don’t best friends do stuff like this all the time?”



Fat tears rolled down Jemma Leigh’s face. “Yes, they do.”



Summer shifted in her seat. “I’m glad you like it.”



“I love it.” Jemma Leigh carefully rolled the scroll back up and secured the bow. “Now I have a favor to ask.”



“Anything.”



“Help Jeremy plan my surprise party? Maybe even go shopping with him?” Jemma Leigh bit her lip. “He’s very sweet, but he’s not a party planner.”



Summer’s heart fell to her toes. “You trust me to spend time with your husband?”



Jemma Leigh rolled her eyes and threw back her shoulders. “No offense to the Hollands, but I’m pretty sure you’re not his type.”



“Oh, well, in that case—”



“And the sacred bond of our friendship prevents you from even thinking about him that way, or acting on it.”



“Which you wouldn’t, because you’re not like that anyway,” Jemma Leigh hastily added.



Summer blew out a breath and grabbed her coffee mug. “I’d be happy to help him.”



“I’ll text him your number,” Jemma Leigh said. “So, what are yours and Gabriel’s plans this afternoon?”



“He’s volunteering at The Center, so I’m doing a movie marathon of all the Back to the Future movies until he gets home. He’s cooking salmon tonight.”



“You’re not going to see your sister?”



Summer almost dropped her coffee.



Chapter Twenty-Five



It wasn’t the first time Summer had ever sneaked around a house, but it was the first time since she’d been married that she had lied to Gabriel about what she was doing.



But it couldn’t be helped, she rationalized. She had to do this on her own, without him. No matter how much it hurt. No matter how bad of an idea this was.



She crept up the back porch, and then peered in a window with lacey curtains. Inside, she saw her sister, Rose, and her sister’s husband, Alexander, sitting at the kitchen table. Ivy sat between the two of them in a hot pink booster seat, her hand over her mouth as Alexander tried to feed her.



“But you like sweet potatoes,” he said, a frown marring the perfection of his lips. He turned to Rose. “Honestly, woman, I blame you.”



Rose’s black brows shot up, but her voice was as calm as the still waters of the Pamlico Sound. “I’m not the one who fed her dessert before supper.”



“Careful, or you might be the one not getting any dessert tonight.”



What was it with men and desserts? Summer thought with a roll of her eyes.



“Maybe I’m not in the mood for dessert tonight,” her sister said, and then laughed at the expression of horror on her husband’s face. “Poor thing, I’ll feed you dessert instead.”



Summer couldn’t help but stare at her sister in rapt amazement. Growing up, Rose had been the serious one. The responsible one. The one who never flirted or laughed. Yet, there she sat, giving a gorgeous man, who made every other woman in Holland Springs tongue-tied, heavy-lidded looks while calling his bluff.



His gaze turned so hot, Summer thought her clothes were going to catch fire.



Turning away, she flattened herself against the wall. For long minutes, she listened to Rose and Alexander talk, planning their week and Ivy’s schedule. One that included dance, art lessons, and Daddy’s morning out. Trips for the three of them. In every outing, Ivy was not just included or accommodated, but wanted. They wanted to take her new places and to teach her new things. Ivy wasn’t a burden to them.



Not that she imagined her baby girl was being neglected or even ignored. But she guessed she’d hoped to see that Ivy looked as though she was missing something in her life. She’d hoped to see her daughter missing her.



Hope was a double-edge sword that skewered her heart.



A cat meowed and twined around her legs.



Dropping to her knees, she scooped up Blackbeard and rubbed her nose in his fur. She had missed him while she’d been living with Gabriel, despite his former reluctance to let her pet him. “Have you been keeping an eye on my baby?”



Blackbeard meowed again.



“I’ll get him,” Alexander said through a sigh.



The sound of his chair scraping against the hardwood floor had her gently dropping the family cat to the ground.



“Damned beast still hogs my side of the bed. Yet I’m the one forced to endure his whims.”



Summer took off, managing to get around the corner of the house before the back door opened. She began walking away, thinking she’d come back tomorrow night to spy on them and make doubly sure Ivy was being taken care of by her “parents.”



“Kitty.” Ivy giggled, and Summer’s heart pinched.



“Careful, sweet girl, the mangy cur hasn’t had a bath for weeks.”



Rose gasped. “My sweet kitty is neither a dog nor filthy.”



Ivy giggled again. “Mommy, I want the kitty.”



Summer’s knees gave out, sending her to the ground. She couldn’t catch her breath. Blood pounded in her ears. Tears ran down her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands, and then clamped them over her ears.



Mommy. Ivy had called Rose Mommy, not her. Rocking back and forth, she bit her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood.



The wind picked up. Lightning flashed in the sky, jagged as it struck. The ground vibrated in response.



Mommy.



She was stronger than this, stronger than a word. Rising on unsteady legs, she ran from the house. A house that had been rebuilt to its former glory. A house now filled with love, more love than had been there before.



Summer knew what had to be done. Deep in her heart, where hope had blossomed but the roots had never taken hold. Her daughter was happy, healthy, and loved. She refused to take that from Ivy.



Mommy.



She ran faster, tree branches smacking her in the face and arms. Scraping and bruising her skin. Still she ran, until she came to the infernal spring that had started it all. That had cursed them all, with its supposed abilities.



Falling to her knees, she ripped at the plants and flowers, at anything her hands could grasp. It didn’t matter she was ripping her nails to the quick. It didn’t matter that rain poured down from the sky, soaking her to the bone.



All along, she’d known that taking Ivy back was the absolute wrong thing to do, but had used it as an excuse to come back here.



Which didn’t say much about her. Actually, it said a lot. It said she was selfish and unappreciative of the people who’d helped her in her life. It said that she was forever unfit to be anyone’s mother.



Gabriel had known it all along, yet he’d tried to help her see the truth.



A scream tore from her, until it scraped her throat raw. She fell on her side, sobbing as she pressed down on her abdomen. At the part of her body that had carried Ivy. She was nothing more than a uterus. Nothing more than the woman who’d labored for hours. Scared and helpless, with no one, not even her family, at her side.



The only person who’d been there for her was Gabriel, but he wasn’t family. He was just the boy she used to love. A man who’d apologized. A man who she’d begun to fall for again, and not just because he’d been there for her during her pregnancy.



Naturally, he had been the only person she could think to call. He had been the one who’d driven her to the hospital and had stayed by her side. He’d been the one saying that he’d be there for her and the baby, in whatever way she needed.



His hand was always in hers, his presence comforting, despite the pain and terror. Through it all he’d stayed, even as she screamed at him to go away—though her heart had pleaded with him to stay. To ignore her stupid, ugly mouth.



She had hated being so vulnerable and dependent upon him. Still she had clung to him like a vine on the thick trunk of a strong tree.



So calm he’d been when the doctor told her Ivy was turned the wrong way, that she’d need an emergency caesarean. Her pain-filled mind had heard him tell the nurse that he’d be responsible for the bill, to just help her. To do whatever they could for her.



Summer peered at Gabriel through slitted eyes. Worry lined his handsome face around his eyes and mouth. While they waited for the doctor, he knelt by her hospital bed and prayed.



Wave after painful wave of contractions washed over her, making her body run hot, and then cold. She kicked the sheets off and fumbled for something, anything to help her.



“Here, sweetheart.” Gabriel pressed ice chips to her lips, and she swallowed them. A slew of nurses entered the room, maneuvering him out the way as they helped her to a wheelchair.



She hunched over when another contraction hit. “Gabriel,” she gasped, reaching for his hand.



“Want me to come with you?”



“You can’t,” one of the nurses informed him, and then turned to Summer. “We have to go.”



She began to struggle to get out of the chair, desperate for his comfort and strength. “Not without him.”



Gabriel knelt before her, his large hands covering hers as he stared into her eyes. “Everything will be fine. I’ll be waiting for you.”



But it wasn’t his face she saw when she came to, teeth chattering and strangely empty. “My baby.” The nurse had told Summer the baby would be brought to her after she had time to recover from surgery. But Summer wanted her now.



Azalea smoothed back the hair on Summer’s forehead and smiled. “How do you feel?”



Too exhausted to be shocked by Azalea’s sudden and unwelcome appearance, she asked, “Wh-where’s G-Gabriel?” Dear God, she was cold. So cold her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. “He s-s-said he’d b-be here.” She tried to rise, but Azalea put a firm hand on her shoulder.



Azalea tsked. “Sugar, it’s like I’ve always told you, the only thing you can count on a man doing is never being there when you need him.” She pulled the covers up. “Now, about the baby’s daddy. Is he planning on coming up here and taking care of y’all?”



Summer stared up into violet colored eyes, hating the woman who’d abandoned her and her little sisters. “He’s d-dead.”



“I hope you don’t expect me to…” The frown that marred her mother’s perfect face eased into a smile. “Well, there are death benefits and pensions. All sorts of things a woman needs to survive. They owe you.”



They owed her nothing. And she would get nothing, since she and Darius hadn’t been married. He’d just been a nice guy who’d treated her like she was worth something. A nice guy who hadn’t deserved to die in a war.



Maybe that was his punishment for being with a Holland. With her. She mentally brushed away the melancholy thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her. “N-nothing’s f-for us.”



“Don’t be ridiculous. Give that baby a paternity test and—”



“Get out,” Summer said through tightly clenched teeth.



Florescent lights flickered in the room, a loud buzzing turned into an even louder pop.



“Don’t get all riled up.” Her mother sniffed. “It’s not healthy, but you never listened to me. Just like you didn’t listen to me when it came to that preacher’s boy. He couldn’t be bothered to stay. Something about not being able to handle the pressure.”