Page 73 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 1

“Oh!” She pointed out the window in Old Town Eureka. “There’s my favorite restaurant. I’ll take you there tomorrow maybe,” she gushed, clearly happy to be home.

It was a gorgeous area. The houses were incredibly unique, each building a different color, reminding me of Nyhavn in Denmark. Only the architectural style was completely opposite. The homes here were Craftsman, beachy, or looked like doll houses with jutting spiral lookouts and pointed roofs. The location had a free-spirited, artsy feel that put my mind at ease.

The coastline spread out parallel to the town, the breeze off the channel making the air feel crisp and fresh. The pine trees surrounding the area enhanced the clean, nature-focused atmosphere.

“This place is magical,” I stated, admiring a bright yellow house with burnt orange trim. It shouldn’t work together but somehow, it did.

As we stopped at the crosswalk to let a family walk by, I spied a familiar name on a cute little building. “Eureka’s Pizza. Should I pop in and see if you’re there?” I teased.

Summer’s cheeks turned hot pink. “I’m sorry I lied. That was uncool of me. But in my defense, we’d just survived a very harrowing experience, I’d melted down, had a panic attack, and thought you were stuck up and snobby about me smelling like weed.”

“Mmmhmm,” I clicked the turn signal and followed the road out of the main part of town toward a mountain blanketed with large pine trees in the distance.

“It was pretty nice of you to try and check up on me. Proves you’re a good guy, Jack Larsen.”

I chuckled. “If I’m being honest, I did want to check up on you, but my intentions weren’t pure of heart.”

She grinned wickedly. “Oh. Are you admitting to being into me?”

“Ifinto youmeans I think you’re gorgeous, your eyes are the prettiest I’ve ever seen in my life, and your body makes me wantto fuck you into next week. Then yes, I am most certainlyinto you, Summer.”

“Hot damn. Don’t hold back or anything.” She snorted playfully then suddenly started bouncing in her seat. “Pull in right there. That’s the driveway to my parents’ house.” Summer wiggled like a brand new puppy who’d just met its new owner. She was so excited she could hardly contain it. A lightness filled and expanded my chest watching her, my fingers tingling with the desire to reach out and touch the living, breathing energy this woman exuded. I held back but just barely. There would be time to connect. Three years of time.

I tamped down the urge to touch her as we continued down a long dirt road that eventually ended on the top of a hill. A sprawling one-story white, wooden, ranch style home greeted us. There was a tree line surrounding the property miles off in the distance. It reminded me a lot of what Erik’s parents had back in Oslo. This home, however, had a wraparound porch with several rocking chairs, pots of every color bursting with flowers, and lush greenery trailing the banisters.

“Wow,” I whispered as Summer bolted out of the car.

Before her feet even hit the steps leading up to the porch a flash of color raced out of the house. A woman with blonde, waist-length hair spread her arms out wide, the fabric of her dress draped to the sides like a butterfly’s wings in flight as Summer crashed into her.

The woman curled her arms around Summer and swung her from side to side. As I exited the car, a tall, slender, redheaded man approached the two. He cupped the back of Summer’s head, closed his eyes and kissed the crown of her golden hair. His red beard and mustache combo disappearing into her hair.

I leaned against the front of the car to give them some time. The door to the house opened and a tall, slender, fair redhead with corkscrew curls and bare feet padded down the steps. Shewore a tie-dyed skirt and a black strappy tank. Hanging from her neck were at least ten different necklaces, and her wrists were circled by stacks of beaded bracelets. On her long fingers were a plethora of silver rings of various designs I couldn’t make out from such a distance.

Summer let go of the woman who had to be her mother, and plowed into the younger woman’s arms. The redhead ducked her head straight against Summer’s neck and held on.

I waited a few minutes for the group to pull themselves together. The entire spectacle was astonishing. This homecoming was one you’d expect to see when someone returned after having been away for months or years, not a two-hour flight away in a neighboring state. It said a lot about how connected this family was to one another.

What if they found me lacking?

Would Summer terminate our agreement?

Technically, she didn’t need the money.

I scowled as the thought of her not wanting to take this adventure with me wove into my psyche. She could leave me at any time. There wasn’t anything tying her to me until after we officially married. I made a mental note to speed up the wedding date to as soon as possible. Maybe there was a justice of the peace around Eureka I could speak to. I’d have my assistant look into it.

“Jack! Come here, silly!” Summer’s voice cut through the uncertainly clouding my mind.

I shook off the haze and ran my fingers through my messy, windblown hair while focusing on my fiancée who was waving me over. I adjusted my suit, closing the center button of the jacket.

When I got close, Summer looped her arm with mine and pressed to my side. “And this is Jack Larsen, my fiancé. Jack, this is my mama Ann, my sister Autumn, and my father Bernie.”

Ann stepped forward, reached up, and cupped both of my cheeks. Her eyes were the color of emeralds. Freckles dotted her creamy skin in pretty patterns. Her lips were plump, pink, and looked exactly like Summer’s.

“Oh, I see you, dear. So much loss.” Her thumbs traced over my brow ridge, down my nose, and over my cheeks the way a blind person might scan the topography of a person’s features. “We’ll help you, son. The light always shines bright around here.” Her gaze flicked to Summer as she smiled. “Sunshine year-round. Stick with my girl, and she’ll rid you of any darkness.” She patted my face lovingly, reminding me of Erik’s mother Irene. “Come, you both need to eat. It’s well past dinner time.”

I shook Bernie’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Sir.”

“You can call me Bernie, Dad, or Pops. I don’t answer to anything else.” He gave a wonky sideways grin before he took his wife’s hand, and they made their way up the porch and into the house.

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