A Touch of Summer Page 2

"Does he know?"

  I shake my head. "God, no. He doesn't see me that way."

  She's quiet for a long moment, processing. And then she sighs. "He's an idiot."

  "No, he's brilliant."

  "Fine. He's a brilliant idiot and I'm mad at him."

  I can't help but smile.

  "Promise me you're not going to disappear out of my life?" she demands. Even though she's smiling, I see the worry in her eyes. Liberty's life hasn't been the easiest. She doesn't talk about her past much, but I don't think she has any family and it takes her a while to warm up to people.

  "I would never do that," I promise, reaching out to hug her. "You're stuck with me until we're old and gray and terrorizing the nursing home together."

  She laughs, hugging me hard. And then she tenses.

  I don't even have to turn around to know Dominic just walked in. I can feel him like he's a living, breathing extension of me. I think, if I were ever lost in the woods, he'd be my Northern star, the constant that acts like a roadmap, guiding me to safety. All I would have to do is follow the magnetic pull to find my way back home, back to him.

  I pull away from Liberty, who gives me a sympathetic grimace that lets me know he's heading in our direction. I already know that, too. The floor vibrates under his feet, protesting his sheer size as he moves.

  "Morning," he says, stopping to shove his lunch into the fridge. His dark green eyes skate across me, his lips turned down into a small frown. Even then, he's hot. His tight button-up and black slacks mold to his body like a second skin. His hair is as messy as ever, like he just rolled out of the bed and didn't bother trying to tame it.

  "Morning," I mumble, avoiding his gaze.

  "Morning, Dom," Liberty says and then squeezes my arm. "I'll see you later."

  "Okay."

  Dominic waits until she leaves to speak to me again.

  "Everything okay?" he asks.

  "Yeah," I lie, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter. He smells so damn good. I don't know how my sleeping mind manages to get his scent right every time, but it does. How long is it going to take me to forget how he smells? The thought alone makes me want to cry. Instead, I slide around him, being careful that I don't brush up against him. "Everything's fine."

  I don't think he believes me, but I don't stick around long enough to find out.

  Chapter Two

  Dominic

  "Tomas, I don't care what color the damn thing is or how much it costs," I growl into the phone, pinching the bridge of my nose in an effort to keep myself from shouting at the mail clerk on the other end of the line. "Just get one that works."

  "Yes, sir," he says.

  "Thank you." I drop the phone into the cradle and take a deep breath. Who knew sending a mail room clerk to fetch a working coffee pot would turn into a two-hour ordeal? I certainly didn't. I should have sent my manager, Summer. She knows exactly what I like and wouldn't have called me fifteen times to ask questions. I wouldn't have minded even if she did.

  I could listen to her talk all day and never grow bored. She's so damn cute when she gets fired up about something. Her baby blues light up and she flings her hands around like she's painting a picture for you. It's fascinating to watch.

  But something is up with her and I didn't want to ask her to deal with the coffee pot issue on top of everything else she already does around here. Liberty Connor, one of my developers, was hugging her when I got here. Summer's been acting different all morning. Actually, she's been acting different for a while now. She seems…sad. When she speaks to me, she barely looks at me and then she scurries away like she's afraid I'm going to hurt her or something.

  I would never hurt her though.

  I'd tear my own heart out of my chest first.

  Summer Daniels is the most incredible woman I've ever met. She's a ray of sunshine, spreading her light everywhere she goes. She's petite and curvy with big blue eyes and curly red hair that smells like flowers. She has a dimple in her right cheek, and a scar from a biking accident on her left knee. She loves the beach but hates sand. She also loves to buy cute shoes but kicks them off at her desk by ten every morning and slides on a pair of flats instead. She carries books everywhere she goes and gets riled up over Harry Potter. She also sneaks in cakes for every staff member's birthday, but never claims credit for doing it.

  I'm so in love with her it's honestly a little pathetic. I spend half my time thinking about her, and the other half trying to find reasons to walk by her office just so I can see her. I want to put my grandmother's ring on her finger and give her as many babies as she wants. But I'm terrified I'll scare her off if I make a move. I need her around here. She's the best thing that ever happened to my company…the best thing that's ever happened to me.

  I almost kissed her two months ago. I managed to get myself under control at the last moment, but it was close. I've thought of nothing else since then.

  As soon as I catch sight of her in her little dresses or catch a whiff of her scent, my dick gets hard and I find my willpower tested in ways it's never been tested before. I don't sleep around or pay much attention to most women. It's been two or three years since I've been with anyone. I've spent my life focused on other things—like trying to leave this world a little better than I found it. I've always been happy with that.

  But Summer makes me want something else, something more. She's too tempting, too beautiful…too everything. I feel drawn to her in ways I can't even explain to myself, let alone to anyone else. When she turns those blue eyes on me, some primal, animalistic part of myself roars to life, screaming with desperation to claim her.

  I'm in Dante's second circle of hell, perpetually torn between that base, lustful urge and my duty as her boss. I don't want her to see me as some creepy old son of a bitch trying to get into her pants. She's a dozen years younger than I am. Doing the right thing by keeping my distance is slowly driving me mad.

  So is the way she's been so jumpy around me lately.

  Does she know I'm in love with her? Is she upset that I almost kissed her? Has she figured out that I walk by her office a thousand times a day just so I can sneak a peek at her?

  I don't know and I don't like it. Wanting her and not being able to have her is pissing me off. My temper is shit these days. I dream about her every damn night. My dick is raw because I jerk off so much. And if I don't get coffee soon, I may actually murder Tomas.

  "Come in!" I yell when someone taps on the door to my office. My heart pounds against my ribcage when Summer peeks into my office. God, she looks gorgeous today. Her little dress is pure white, making her look like an angel. The hint of cleavage it gives her has my mouth watering. The dress ends at midthigh, leaving the rest of those long legs on display. Her skin is porcelain, so pale I can see the blue veins running beneath it.

  "Um, hey," she mumbles, stepping inside the office and pulling the door closed. She avoids my gaze, instead keeping her eyes downcast. She fidgets with the paper in her hands like she's nervous. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

  My cock throbs.

  I want to feel those ruby red lips wrapped around my dick while I have my tongue buried inside her. I want to know if she'll feel as soft and sweet in my arms as I imagine she will. I want her, dammit all.

  "Do you have a minute?" she asks, her sweet voice soft.

  "Always for you."

  She blushes and then steps closer to my desk.

  "Um, so I don't really know how to say this," she says, still fidgeting with the paper in her hand. Her eyes are watery, and her bottom lip is dangerously close to quivering. She looks like she's ready to cry. "So, I guess the best way is to just say it?"

  I lean forward in my chair, concerned. She's so pale. If someone hurt her, I'm killing them. I'll bury their bodies beside Tomas, who is definitely going to die if he doesn't get back here with a functioning coffee pot soon. Whoever upset my sunshine will never make this beautiful girl cry ever again. I won't let them. "What is it, Summer? Is somet
hing wrong? Did something happen?"

  She nibbles on her bottom lip and then sighs but doesn't say anything.

  I push myself to my feet to go to her.

  "I'm quitting," she blurts out.

  I grasp the desk to keep my knees from buckling as my world goes spinning out of orbit. She's leaving me? No, no way. I can't let that happen. I won't allow it.

  "I'm so sorry," she whispers, "but I need to move on."

  "Move on? From what? Why? I thought you were happy here, sunshine."

  "I love it here."

  "Then why are you leaving me?" Shit. That's not what I meant to say, not out loud anyway. "I mean, why are you leaving my company? What's wrong?" I release the edge of my desk and stride toward her. "Tell me what happened, and I'll fix it." I'll sign over the entire company if that's what it takes to fix whatever has her ready to leave. I need her here.

  "N-nothing happened, Dominic." She tilts her head back to look up at me. Sadness swims through those baby blues, working like a wrecking ball on my insides.

  I thrust my hands into my pockets to keep from scooping her up into my arms to hold her.

  "I just think it's time for me to move on."

  I know her. I've spent the last six months obsessed with every expression that crosses her face. I know when she's happy and when she's sad. I know when Todd in purchasing is getting on her nerves, and when she and Liberty have been out for drinks. I even know when she's lying—which she doesn't do often. But she's lying now. Something happened to precipitate this decision. She just doesn't want to share it with me.

  Well, fuck that.

  I'm not letting her go like this. I'm not letting her go at all.

  "Is that your letter of resignation?" I ask, pointing at the paper in her hands.

  She nods.

  I reach out and pluck it from her grasp before stomping across my office to the shredder. I don't even read the letter before shoving it inside.

  "Dominic! What are you doing?" she cries, rushing forward.

  I watch in satisfaction as the shredder turns the letter into tiny ribbons of paper.

  Summer reaches out to snatch it out of the shredder before it's completely destroyed, but I grab her around the waist, pulling her away from the machine before she gets her hands on it. And fuck me. She feels as good pressed up against my body as I knew she would. Better, even.

  "What are you doing?" she cries again, her tone equal parts distressed and indignant.

  "You're not leaving me until you tell me why," I growl in her ear, anchoring her body to mine.

  She wriggles, trying to break free, but I refuse to let her go. Instead I lift her off the ground and plop her down on the edge of my desk, not even caring as a stack of files falls off, scattering documents all across the floor.

  "Stop fighting me, sweet girl," I mutter when she shoves at my chest, trying to push me out of her personal space. "I'm not going to hurt you."

  "You just shredded my resignation!" she says, her voice full of righteous indignation.

  If my heart wasn't lodged in my throat, I'd laugh. But I'm too fucking worried to do that. Instead, I take a step back, giving her a little bit of space so she knows I'm not trying to hurt her or force myself on her.

  "I'm not accepting it until you tell me why."

  "Because it's my choice," she says, glaring at me.

  "You're a terrible liar, Summer."

  "I'm not a liar."

  "I know, but you're lying to me right now, sweet girl." I rake a hand through my hair, pace in a circle, and then stop, only to immediately make another circuit. "You love working here. You post about how much you love this place on social media all the time."

  "You look at my Facebook?" she says and then frowns. "We aren't friends on Facebook. You don't even have Facebook."

  Well, shit.

  "I have my sources," I lie, not about to tell her I made a fake profile so I could stalk hers. I don't think that would win me any favors right now. I'm also pretty sure HR would hang me by my balls if they found out. "You love your job. Did I do something to offend you? Is that why you're leaving? Tell me what I did, and I'll fix it."

  "You didn't do anything."

  Another lie. She really is terrible at this. Her little turned-up nose twitches and her gaze slides away from mine like she can't look me in the eye while telling me something that isn't true.

  "Are you not happy here?"

  She shakes her head, nods, and then shakes it again like she isn't sure if she's happy or not. The little furrow between her brows tells me she isn't lying this time. She genuinely isn't sure if she's happy here or not. Fuck.

  "I'll double your salary."

  Her wide eyes fly to mine. "It's not about the money, Dominic."

  "Triple it."

  She scowls at me. "You are not paying me triple my salary to stay. Are you insane?"

  "Maybe," I mutter, pacing in another circle. If I am, it's because she's driven me there. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it. Is it because I sent Tomas to get a coffee pot?"

  "What? No." She blinks at me, her eyes clouding with confusion and then outright suspicion. "You sent Tomas to get a coffee pot?"

  "Ours is broken?" I'm not sure why that sounds like a question. Maybe because she looks annoyed with me right now.

  "Did you at least send someone with him?"

  "No?"

  She gapes at me for a long, silent moment and then her lips twitch like she's amused. "How many times has he called you?"

  "A few."

  Yeah, she's definitely amused now. Her eyes light up, her lips curving into a smile. And God, she's incredible when she's smiling. That dimple pops out and I swear my heart beats out of my chest like on the cartoons. That dimple is a lethal weapon. It completely annihilates any chance I have of resisting her.

  I take a step toward her, unable to stop myself.

  "I don't even feel sorry for you right now," she says, pointing a finger at me. "You can't send Tomas out on his own without exact instructions, Dominic. Making executive decisions gives him anxiety. He needs explicit instructions to follow or someone to go with him so he doesn't get overwhelmed."

  And that right there? That's why I love her. That's why I need her here. I know technology and coding and engineering. I know fuck all about what needs to be done around here to keep people happy and to keep everything running. I do my best, but at the end of the day, I'm just a computer nerd with a bank account and a desire to make the world a better place.

  But Summer knows everything about our employees and she genuinely cares about them and their happiness. She knows who needs what kind of attention and gives it to them. They trust her, love her…would probably crawl through hell to make her happy because they know she will always have their best interests at heart. The people on my staff like me, but they adore her. She's relatable, genuine, approachable. Everyone is so much happier now that she's running things.

  She's the best person I know. The most caring woman I've ever met.

  "I didn't think about his anxiety," I mutter, taking another step toward her. I should have remembered it though. Maybe I'm getting complacent or relying on her too much. Maybe that's why she's unhappy. Because I'm a jackass. "I just wanted coffee."

  "I would have gotten you coffee."

  "It's not your job to get me coffee. You already have enough shit to do around here." I rake a hand through my hair again. "Is that why you're leaving? Because I put too much on you?" She's so smart, so capable and dedicated. I never really considered that I might have come to rely on her too much because, to me, she's a freaking goddess who can handle anything.

  Shit. Maybe I have taken her for granted.

  "You don't put too much on me. I love what I do here and all the people I work with." Her smile slips, sadness sweeping through her expression again.

  "Then what is it?" I ask, and then reach out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear because I can't help it. Be
cause she's beautiful and perfect and she's right fucking there and if she leaves now, it's going to break me in half. I cup her cheek in my palm, tilting her head back until her blue eyes meet mine. "What did I do to make you want to leave?"

  I know it had to be me. She loves everyone else.

  "You didn't do anything, Dominic," she whispers, blinking as tears fill her eyes. "You're the best man I've ever met. The best boss I've ever had. But I have to leave."

  "Why?"

  "Because." She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, watching my face. A thousand different emotions flow through her eyes, but I'm not sure what any of them mean. I'm not even sure she's going to answer me. Until she does. "Because I'm in love with you and working beside you every day is killing me when I know you don't feel the same." She gives me a watery smile. "So see? I do have to leave. You've been avoiding me for months. Leaving now will make things less awkward for you. For everyone."

  Jesus Christ.

  She's in love with me? That's why she's leaving? That's why she looks so sad when she looks at me? Because she's in love with me and doesn't have a clue I feel the same way about her?

  I'm an idiot. Or whatever comes after idiot. All this time, all it would have taken to make her happy was to tell her that I'm crazy about her. Instead, I've made us both miserable for months. Made her want to leave.

  "Summer, I–"

  "I got the coffee pot, boss!"

  Summer jumps at the sound of Tomas's voice, her cheeks flushing bright pink. I spin around to tell him to get out, but before I can, he's in front of me, shoving the box into my hands like it's the Stanley Cup.

  "I got red because the last one was red," he says. "I hope that's okay. I can exchange it if you don't like it. I made them give me a receipt. I also had them email one."

  Summer hops off my desk and squeezes past me, hurrying from the office.

  I toss the coffee pot on my desk to go after her, but Tomas thrusts the receipt in my face, waving it like it's a winning lottery ticket. And as much as I want to tell him to get the hell out of my way so I can claim my girl, I can't. Because Summer was right. Tomas has crippling anxiety and developmental delays. He's close to thirty but has the mentality of a teenager. Despite it, he went out on his own and bought me a coffee pot because I asked him to do it. He deserves my appreciation and two minutes of my time.