Page 8 of Stolen Summer

“The pool is yours to use whenever the mood strikes. With or without a suit,” he added, picking up a towel I hadn’t seen off the back of a lounge chair and using it to dry his hair some.

“Thanks for the offer, but it’s probably best I just leave.” Before things got more awkward. I took a step in retreat, intending to make my way back the way I’d arrived.

“Are you forgetting something?” His eyes raked over his shirt plastered to my body.

I glared at him, a choke of audacity stuck in my throat. “You don’t expect me to walk home naked.”

A single brow arched. “Did you come naked?”

I snorted. “You wouldn’t,” I dared, calling his bluff. No way he’d make me trek next door with nothing on.

“It’s my favorite shirt.” He bent down and scooped up my discarded pile of clothes.

The last thing I wanted to do was put back on my stained work uniform that smelled like I rolled in a cheeseburger, but I hadn’t thought to bring a change of clothes. Story of my life. I never thought shit through.

He snatched them away as I reached for them. “On second thought, I think I’ll keep them for insurance. Make sure I get my shirt back, and it gives me an excuse to see you again.”

Shit! I needed those clothes for work. I planned to wash them, and I had another shirt at home, but if I didn’t get it back, it would leave me down to just one, which wasn’t ideal. I didn’t want to spend money I didn’t have on another shirt with the diner’s logo on it. “What makes you think I want to see you again?”

He grinned, and it made me wish I hadn’t been so quick with my retort. No one should have a smile that potent. Absolutely. Fucking. No one. Especially a guy who looked like him. He was attractive when he scowled, but when he smiled—lethal and unlawful. “Because I think we can help each other for the summer.”

“I don’t want your help. I don’t even know you. And I have no interest in getting to know you,” I punctuated to get my point across.

He slung the towel over his shoulder, flashing his teeth. “Liar.”

My fingers curled into fists. “That’s the second time you’ve called me a liar. Do so again, and you’ll end up back in the pool.”

“You push me, and I’m taking you with me.” Why did he look like he was enjoying this conversation too much?

Unfolding my arms, I straightened my spine. “I don’t even know why I’m arguing with you.”

“Because you enjoy it as much as I do.”

My snort was loud and very unladylike. I didn’t give a shit.

He inspected my greasy, stained shirt, and I banked down the embarrassment wanting to creep into my cheeks. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Not even where I worked.

“Oaks Diner, huh?” His gaze lifted to meet my burning stare. “I know where I’ll be having breakfast for the summer.”

“As if you get up early enough to have breakfast.” I’d heard about the late-night parties the Riley boys had thrown throughout previous years. Then suddenly what he said registered. “The summer? You plan on sticking around the entire summer?”

“That’s the plan. Can I expect any other unexpected surprises?” I swore his expression turned hopeful.

I grinned, not a friendly gesture but a spiteful one. “The hot tub looks nice.”

He chuckled. “I’m looking forward to it. See you later, Quinn.”

As if.

My middle finger shot up when I reached the gate.

Chapter Three

Stomping through the sand, I rushed inside my house, unable to get away from Cole Riley fast enough and grateful to see Sadie had already left for the night. Sadie was my dad’s caregiver who came to the house a few days a week to help with everything from mobility to general care to emotional support. She’d been with us since the accident and was a godsend. I didn’t know how I could have gotten through those early months without her.

Sadie was the closest thing I had to a mom. The one who birthed me ran out when I was six. My memories of Rose were faint. If it weren’t for the single picture I hid in the back of my underwear drawer, I wouldn’t remember what she looked like. Her smell was the one thing my brain clung to. Of course, I could always look in the mirror. Rose and I had the same deep, dark hair that waved naturally with the humidity. Except I recently added silvery-blue highlights to my black hair. Our eyes were the same big, almond-shaped, gray eyes. Too many nights when Dad had a bottle too many of gin, he liked to remind me just how much I looked like her.

It was the times he accidentally called me Rose that cut.

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