Matt"That's how I got your number. I don't know why she had that, or what it means."Memory shifted in my mind. Why we'd argued. The things we'd shouted at one another. The way I'd pleaded with her.We can go on a date, eat out at a restaurant. Hell, I don't know. We could spend a lazy afternoon collecting seashells.The breath seeped from my lungs. Damn. Damn, damn, damn.After I'd left her under the pier that night, she'd done just that. She'd...collected shells. Christ. It had been an olive branch, and she'd died before I could ever have the opportunity to reach for it. Or she'd known she was going to die and left me this as a message. Either way, the whole situation sucked. Down to the nitty-gritty kind of suck.I cleared my strangled throat. "It was something normal, one of the things I'd urged her to do. Collect shells." I tore my gaze from the bag to him. "That's why she had this."His brows furrowed, understanding in his eyes. "You should keep it, then." His finger tapp
Jenny"Has he called?" Facing me, Rock crossed his arms and leaned against the back counter.Perched on the bar top, I swung my legs in nervous energy. "No." Nearly an entire week, and not one call, text, or so much as a smoke signal from Matt. Even when he'd lived in Greensboro we'd never gone this long without talking."He will."I shook my head. "I'm not so sure." Rubbing my forehead, I dropped my gaze and forced my stomach to stop rolling in dread. "I'm an idiot cliché. Girl professes her love. Guy runs for the hills."Rock's brows pinged in awareness as if he knew something I didn't. In fact, he'd been acting strange all damn day. "As a guy, I'm telling you, he'll come around. You didn't see the way he looked at you when you sang. Or how when you walk into a room, his only focus is you. He's so in love with you he doesn't know up from down."Too gutted to even hope, I glanced around the empty tavern. Rock and I had talked all afternoon about the details for Winter's Den. Mat
JennyHe shrugged as if it were no big deal. His expression sobered as he cupped my cheek. "We need to talk. I've got a thousand things to say.""I've got some things to share, too."Nodding, he glanced around and set me on my feet. Then he bent and hauled me over his shoulder fireman style. I squeaked as he carried me toward the back rooms. We passed the bar and I looked up, blowing hair out of my face. "Rock, close the bar tonight, would you?"Wiping a glass with a white towel, he winked. "You got it."Matt fished around in my pocket for the keys, unlocked the private door to my apartment, and kicked the door shut behind us. With a quick reset of the lock, he climbed the stairs, me still over his shoulder."I can walk."He skimmed a hand over my thigh. "I'm not letting you go for so much as a second tonight." Plopping into a recliner, he adjusted me until I straddled his lap. He cupped my cheeks, thumbs stroking my jaw. His gaze was haggard and apologetic and fraught. "I mis
VOLUME ONE: SUMMER'S ROADSummer QuinnThe last thing, the very last thing on earth I expected to see when I opened my front door was my estranged mother standing on my front porch, wringing her hands. It took me point five frazzled seconds to connect the woman I'd only met in photographs with the one before me. My fingers closed over the doorknob with a death grip. Dizziness swamped me, sending the room into a whirl. This couldn't be real. But, yet...I focused on keeping my limbs from leaping across the threshold and wrapping her in my arms. Stupid, stupid, Summer. You're not a kid anymore.Oh, and today of all days to show up? Not good. History proved I needed to immerse myself in my art or I'd lose it. There were several paintings that had to be finished for the charity auction. And it was four years ago today my dad had died. I needed to keep my mind focused on the first and off the latter. "Hello," Sharon said. "I'm-" "I know who you are," I breathed."Can we talk?" Th
"Summer, calm down." Tim Avery put his palms up and rounded his enormous walnut desk in his enormous, expensively decorated office, with his enormous girth jutting over his belt.Normally, I liked our attorney, Tim. I hadn't the need to call on him often through the years, but he'd always been patient and composed. There was no calming me now. I'd pushed through the outer glass doors on Main Street, marching right past his flustered secretary and into his office down the hall. He'd taken one look at me and ended his phone call."She wants to take the house from me!""Look, I was filing away some old documents and discovered the discrepancy. I contacted her lawyer to work it out.""You-How did you even know how to contact her? When Daddy died, you said you couldn't reach her."Gesturing to a chair, he sat, expecting me to do the same. When it was clear I wasn't going to follow suit, he sighed and shook his head. His thin, dark comb-over didn't budge with the motion. He swiped at hi
Twenty-Two Years Ago-Age Six"Diana at school said s-so," I stammered through the sobs. "Sh-she said that it wasn't normal. That I was bad and that's why Mommy wasn't here."Here, at home in Daddy's arms in the living room, I was safe. He smelled like soap and wood where I pressed my face into his shirt. School wasn't like that. I hated it. I was never going back. Ever. It smelled like paste and pee and Mrs. Schmidt's perfume. The kids were mean. They laughed at me and called me stupid and told me I couldn't play because I didn't have a mommy."Shh. Come now," Daddy cooed in a soft murmur. "That Diana doesn't know what she's talking about."My chest hurt. My tummy wanted to throw up. "But Mommy isn't here," I insisted.Daddy started rocking, the motion matching his heartbeats. One. Two. Three. "Mommy isn't here, no. But do you know why?" He paused. "She had to go climb mountains so high that the white snow never melts. Where she can see the whole world from the very top." He sighe
Ian MemmerI knew what was coming before Summer even opened her perfect, pouty mouth."Date didn't go so well, huh?" She tossed me a beer.From her window seat, I caught the bottle with one hand and struggled to maintain a deadpan expression. "Actually, Susie's right where I left her-in her bed, counting her blessings." I chuckled as her eyebrows shot up, as they always did when she was annoyed with me. I made my way to the bed, setting the beer on the nightstand and sat down, paging through one of her female magazines with little interest.She walked over to the corner of the room and pulled clothes out of her top dresser drawer for the morning, her movements stiff. Ah, my girl was irked by my response. If there was one thing in this world I appreciated most, it was to annoy her. Most of the time, it was the only way to get a rise out of her. She'd been raising those eyebrows at me since as far back as my memory allowed her there. "Counting her blessings," she repeated, turnin
SummerI growled deep in my throat and flopped back on my bed. I snuck a glance at my bookshelf, gaze landing Ian's photo. His sharp facial features and chiseled chin. His eyebrows were low, almost masking the deep brown color of his eyes. He always looked somewhat dangerous until he smiled. He was a good looking man. But he knew he was attractive, as did the entire female population of Wylie. Wasn't it against the laws of nature and rules of friendship to think of a best friend that way? Issue the I could eat you alive, but wouldn't dare look? We'd grown up next door to one another. It wasn't a brother-sister kind of relationship, but it wasn't the kind to get all hot and bothered between the sheets either. Sex between us would ruin everything. Sex killed friendships. So what was up with him lately? All the innuendos and wink-winks?When we were fifteen, and I was dating one of the high school football players, I'd run next door to tell Ian about Scott Michaels kissing me before the