Page 29 of Love to Hate You

“Exactly.”

“And this is how I want to live it.”

Once Randy set his mind to one of his stupid plans, he wouldn’t back off until he did it. So if Wes wanted Randy to see the light, he was going to have to go about it in a careful way. Randy needed to think he’d come the conclusion that this was too much too soon on his own.

“I’ll try harder. As long as you promise me you’ll really think about it.”

Randy clapped Wes on the shoulder. “Already thought it through, bro. I’m ready to get hitched.”

Summer had been waiting for this vacation all year. The big bonfire, toasting s’mores, playing catch with Buttercup on the beach, sitting around showing off the Russo Vacation Olympics trophy, which was really just a piece of carved driftwood that was supposed to look like an arrow but looked like a penis. Yet it was the downtime, the lack of a schedule, and the spontaneous family moments that sparked her fondest memories. The right balance of relaxation and family fun. But right now she wasn’t having fun.

Her vacation had been hijacked. By a brute of a Brit who didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about her current state of distress. Which was why, instead of being in the kitchen, swinging her hips to ABBA, cooking her “loser dinner,” she was pleading with her auntie for a Wes-depravation stroll along the beach with Buttercup.

“It’s linguine alle vongole, Auntie. You’re the master of linguine.”

Cecilia looked thrilled by the compliment. “Would you like to go on the record with that?”

If it got her out of spending an hour in the kitchen with Wes, she was almost willing to take the heat. But her mom would never forgive her. She might even disown her.

“Well, it’s better than mine. Last time you said my linguini had the texture of spaghetti squash.”

Cecilia shivered. “It wasn’t your best showing. But I have faith in you.”

“Since when?”

“Since you’d rather welch on a bet than cook. I raised you better than that. Unless there’s a particular reason why you look like an all-around plague has soured your face.”

“I just wanted you to use your gift to sniff out any potential problems with the Kingston brothers,” she said, knowing Cecilia loved a chance to show off her gift.

“Besides Randy’s little mojo problem...” Cecilia let her finger deflate down like a shrinking penis. “I see no other signs of anything but love.”

“What about Wes?” Summer asked, and wished she’d just kept her mouth shut because Cecilia was like a dog with a bone and she’d just sink her canines into this Wes situation.

“Are you asking about his love line?”

“What? No!” she said, too vehemently. “I just meant, think of it as a way to get to know Randy through his brother. Isn’t it an auntie’s duty to vet the guy her niece brings home? You could use your sight to see if Wes is a good guy. Birds of a feather and all that. You can tell a lot by the company people keep, the way they dress, and the way they were raised.”

“We let you prance around naked until you were six. I don’t see you streaking down Main Street.” Cecilia took inventory of Summer in her boy-cut shorts and baggy top andtsk-ed. “Such a shame. If I had your boobs, I’d be naked all the time. #FreeTheNip would be my daily motto.” Suddenly Cecilia gasped and clutched her turquoise necklace. She began to hum and stare off into the distance. “Your grandmother is here with a message.”

Summer looked around the kitchen even though she knew she’d not see a trace of a ghost. But it was fun to play into the magic of it all. “What is she showing you?”

Cecilia held back a smile, loving that her niece was playing along. “She’s showing me water, and a white knight, and, oh my, you’re naked.”

“You’re seeing me naked?” Summer asked, her face heating with the memory of earlier, when she and Wes nearly had a naked moment in the water when the only thing between them was wet, paper-thin cotton.

“Don’t sound so horrified—I changed your diapers, missy. And it’s better than those grannie panties you wear.”

“I don’t wear . . .” Then she trailed off because it was too late. Cecilia’s hand tightened around her necklace and she began to sway and hum louder. “I see Cupid himself and his little bare bottom coming to poke you with his arrow.”

“Now there’s a naked cherub who wants to assault me with his arrow? Such a man thing to do.”

Cecilia blinked and her expression was back to of-this-world. “Say what you want, but your guides have spoken. And they’re making it clear that boring old Summer isn’t going to snag her man.”

“I’m not boring.” In fact, her life was a giant fireball of chaos. Just look at her shop’s books. And her wardrobe. Summer had ninety-nine pieces of clothing and a boring ain’t one.

“That’s what a boring person would say. Now, get out there and break out of your bubble. Set yourself free and let that spontaneous and bold side run the show.” Cecilia patted Summer on the behind and sent her on her way. “And go and get started on that linguini. I’m famished.”

Summer trotted toward the kitchen, her chest tightening like she was taking her final walk down a concrete corridor. “Dead man walking” came to mind.

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