Page 35 of Holiday Tides

Nick’s flirty smirk hits me like a rogue wave. “I think I like you using my full name even better than hearing you say, ‘Nick,’ all breathy and wanton.”

My mouth drops open. “You were right there with me! Let’s not forget you kissed me first.”

It’s when I tear my fingers from his, playfully stomping away while Nick’s laughter peppers my back, that I realize we’re interacting in nearly the same way we always have. It’s just now I understand that Nick’s jokes, his little jabs, aren’t because he thinks he’s better than me.

He sweeps my legs from under me, much like he did on my first day back in Wilks Beach.

“The things I want to do with you. I have to keep myself in check constantly. I want to teach you to surf. I bet you’d be a natural. I want to slip beyond the chain link fence into the nature preserve to watch the baby sea turtles hatch.” Wholesome imaginings are not where I thought this conversation was headed.

“I want to deliver hot cinnamon rolls from the coffee shop the instant you get home from a run. Then eat them on the floor beside the TV, watching our favorite show. I want to cook for you. You don’t even know I make a mean Chicken Teriyaki.” He sighs, the wistful sound like a fist around my heart.

Nick sets me down at the rickety fence surrounding my small front yard, gently opening the disintegrating gate. “And more than anything, I want to fix up your house so you’ll becomfortable and warm in a space that makes you happy. And that”—he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear as we arrive at my front door—“will take time. Lucky for me, I’ve been here long enough that I’m a certified local. Are you going anywhere anytime soon?”

“Nope.” My cheeks sting from my giant smile.

His entire face lights. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I need to make snickerdoodles. Do you want to help me?”

“Absolutely.” He gathers me in his arms. “Whatever way you’ll let me in, Summer, I’ll be there. Just ask.”

I roll my eyes. “What if I invite you to my parents’ dinner and tree decorating tomorrow night?”

“I’m in. There’s nothing I love more than decking the halls.”

My palms push against his hard chest. “Be serious.”

“I am.” His honest expression steals the air from my lungs. “Plus, they’ll love me—your family. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, buteveryoneloves me.”

“Not Carol,” I counter.

His chin tilts to the side. “She’s a tough nut to crack, but I’ll get there.” Nick gives me a seductive grin that burns all the way to my toes. “What time tomorrow?”

“Um, two? To make the cookies. Then we’ll head to the mainland afterward.”

“Sounds perfect.” His breath skirts my lips as he answers.

I smile, lifting my face slightly. “Are you going to kiss me now?”

Nick doesn’t answer me, but it’s severallongminutes before I slip into my warm cottage, buzzing with excitement of what tomorrow might bring.

twenty-one

Summer

“Spencer will ask for your social security number. Don’t give it to him. He’s already going to do a full criminal record check the second you step out of the room. Also, Spencer’s wife, Lydia, doesn’t really like jokes. She’s always a little slow to the uptake.” I suck in a hasty breath. “And if Simon offers you anything, politely decline. He’s been known to try and suck people into pyramid schemes by owing him favors. Now that he’s finally working instead of trying to con his way through life, Mom wants it to stay that way.”

Nick’s hand falls firmly on my knee. “Summer, I don’t mean to pull the orphaned-at-eighteen card here, but I think I can handle your quirky family for an evening.”

“Right.” I try to focus on Mannheim Steamroller coming through the truck speakers, but all I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears. “Right. This will be fine. Everything is fine.”

“If you say ‘fine’ a few more times, I might believe you.”

“You don’t think this will be fine?” The question rises into a squeaky range.

It’s not that I’m embarrassed by my family. I love every single one of them and their dysfunctions. But I’ve never brought a man home, never introduced anyone to my parents. Before Cooper, I never dated anyone for longer than a few weeks. Nick and I have only beentogetherfor less than twenty-four hours. A wave of nausea forces me to roll the window down as Nick pulls into my parents’ neighborhood.

“This will be great.” He sends me that cocky, confident smile of his, nearly popping the anxiety bubble whirring in my stomach. “You’ll see. We’re good together.”

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