Page 26 of Be My Summer

“What is it, Miss Summer?”

“What other tricks do you have under that hat of yours?”

I shook my head and lifted my hands.

“None.”

“The Head Chef of Solo ArtHouse? Seriously?”

“He’s out of a job for the next week while they rebuild their kitchen. I figured why the hell not. Tracked ‘em down and here we are.”

“And, the trolley?”

“I can’t give you all of my secrets, Summer.”

She quieted herself and settled with a smile.

“You’re so pretty.”

Her cheeks swelled as her eyes blinked slowly.

She was tantalizing.

Hypnotic.

Uintentionally alluring.

“Thank you.”

I rubbed a hand down my face and sat back in my seat. It was official. I was doomed and I didn’t give a damn.

“What’s on your mind, Mister?”

I shook my head.

“I’m in trouble, Summer. Big trouble. Good trouble.”

“How so?”

I nodded toward her.

She pressed her pointer finger into her chest.

“Me?”

“I see too much of my future when I see you. I hear it too. Loud and clear. The way you say my name. The way you– shit, just you.”

“What else do you see in your future?”

“A wife. A son. A daughter. Hopefully two daughters. A porch along the entire brownstone I plan to purchase. Plants– as many as your heart desires. Long work days. Entering the house to little feet storming toward me. Something hearty to eat.”

“As many plants as my heart desires?” Summer laughed as our drinks were placed in front of us.

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Summer. Is it not computing in your brain that you are a part of these plans?”

She swirled the wine in front of her before taking a sip. Slowly, she nodded.