Page 83 of Love to Hate You

Still, here she was, smiling like a fool.

“You need to talk to your sister before you finalize this.” Her father’s voice echoed from the kitchen. The last time she’d heard him this stern was when Autumn agreed to go to prom with Summer’s long-time crush.

“I will, Dad,” Autumn said defiantly. “When the time is right. I need to see if they even have an opening.”

“You will tell her today. Do you understand, young lady. I won’t have her blindsided. Not about this.”

Summer assumed they were talking about the elopement, but even that news couldn’t get her down. She didn’t think anything could sink her mood. Not today. Not after last night.

She was in a relationship.

You’re mine.

Just thinking about him growling those words last night, as if he owned her body and soul, made her panties damp. Schooling her features, she walked into the kitchen. It wasn’t as if anyone who didn’t hear them last night wouldn’t figure it out when they saw the broken bed, but she still wanted to play it cool. “What do I need to know?”

Guilt filled the room, making the air so thick Summer could barely breathe. Another ball was about to drop. She could sense it using her twin powers. Autumn was carrying another secret. One that would make getting engaged look like child’s play.

“We were just talking about the proposal and ... Oh my god! Is that a hickey?” Autumn pulled Summer’s hair to the side. “It is!” A bright smile overtook her face. “I knew it. I just knew it. Watching you two fight was like watching Skinamax. The day of the kayak race, the heat nearly singed my eyebrows.”

“Summer Marissa Russo,” her mother scolded. “What have I told you about your body being a temple?”

“That you only get one,” Autumn inserted, ever so helpful.

Blanche wasn’t talking about sex, she was talking about marring her skin. Hickeys, sunburns, piercings, and tattoos all fell into the same category: sinful.

“I’m twenty-four, I’m pretty sure I can—”

“That was my doing, Mr. and Ms. Russo,” Wes said from the kitchen’s threshold without an ounce of apology in his voice. Then his hands rested on her shoulders in support, and she melted back into him. It wasn’t a conscious reaction, but a feeling leftover from their night and morning had her nearly burrowing into his big capable arms.

She felt his possessiveness, which normally she wouldn’t like. But he wore it well. It also made her feel as if she weren’t about to have a bomb dropped on her alone.

Plus, he was making a statement to her family. At this moment in time, they were a team.

“And the bed?” Cecilia asked, and when Wes looked at her with ahow the hell did you know about that?look,her aunt said, “My guides told me.”

“You walked past their room,” Blanche said, outing her.

“Only to see if what I was shown was true.” She looked at Wes and Summer with a mischievous smile. “And it was. Was that you too, sonny?”

“I’d like to take the credit, but Summer might fight me for the title.”

“Can we stop talking about this? Please?” Summer said. She’d turned to Wes to apologize for her family’s behavior when she stopped short. No longer was he wearing cargo shorts and T-shirts, he was in a full suit with a tie and cufflinks. He was clean-shaven and looked like the cover ofGQmagazine. The difference was so stark her heart leapt—and not in a good way. She was reminded of the kind of man he was when he wore a suit. One who didn’t smile or laugh—a man who put the bottom line first.

As if reading her mind, he gave her a playful wink and her heart leapt into triple-time. He was back. That easygoing, fun-loving man who gave mind-blowing orgasms, kissed like a pro, argued like a lobbyist. The man she’d dangerously started to fall for.

“What did I tell you, dear,” Cecilia whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. “Your guides said they’d bring you home a good Italian man. In a tall, dark, and sexy suit.” She waved a hand in a very Vanna White-esque manner and said, “Voila.”

Summer remembered the first day he’d met her family and how uncomfortable he’d been. But now it was as if he felt part of the pack. And that made Summer love her family all the more.

“Hate to burst your bubble, but I’m British,” Wes said.

“Not everyone can be perfect, dear.” Cecilia patted Wes on the shoulder.

Summer could see where this line of questioning was going, so she interrupted it before it began. “Before everyone starts speculating, we are just seeing where this goes. It’s new and fun and Wes is moving to Los Angeles in a few months and then he’s going back to London.”

She felt his hand loosen just the tiniest bit, as if he didn’t like her answer. But she wasn’t going to let herself think that this was more than they’d agreed to. Her head was determined to keep her heart out of it for once. Because she hadn’t pushed things, hadn’t turned a regular meet into a meet-cute, hadn’t gone in with expectations, and look at her now. She was spending time with a great man and on the way toward mastering theKama Sutra.

Boldness swept through her and instead of hiding her hickey behind a cascade of hair, she pulled her hair over the opposite shoulder, wearing it proudly.

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