Page 30 of Along Came Summer

“I’m sure it is, but it’s late. I should go to bed.”And there is.

“Are you afraid to be alone with me, baby girl?” I taunt as I slowly turn her so she’s facing me. Mira’s eyes sweep up and she holds my gaze, shaking her head.

“Not at all. I’m alone with you right now, Levi,” she answers steadily, the corner of her eyes thinning.

“Not here.” I shake my head, lift my left arm and press my hand against the fridge, caging her in before she tries to make a run for it. “We need to talk, Mira.”

Mira shakes her head slowly and bites her lip before speaking, “There’s nothing to talk about, Levi.”

Lifting my right hand I brush my fingers along her jaw until they tuck under her chin, and I tilt her head up to look down into her pretty face. “Nothing? You’re seriously going to stand there and act like nothing happened between us?”

“Levi, what happened between us was a mistake,” she whispers, pulling her face out of my hold and quickly averting her gaze from mine. I chuckle lowly and lift both my hands against the fridge on either side of her.

I lower my head so I’m at eye level with her and give my lips a slow lick, my eyes narrowing when they lock with hers. “A mistake is something that happens once, not repeatedly over two weeks, Mira.”

“You know what I mean, Levi. It was a holiday romance, that’s it. Two weeks, no strings, you go back to your life, and I go back to mine. Isn’t that what we agreed?” she prompts, and I nod, biting down on my lower lip while I study her pretty face.

“It was, but what if I want to pick up where we left off?” I counter, leaning in closer. A quivering breath escapes Mira when I languidly trail my fingers down the side of her cheek, down the column of her neck. Subtly reminding her how much she loved my touch. “What if I’m still right where you left me? Wanting you.”

“Levi.” Mira sighs pleadingly.

“When you’re lying in bed alone, tell me you don’t think about me. Tell me you haven’t thought about all we did on that island just once and touched yourself.” I assert with a groan, and she stares at my mouth avidly while I lightly graze my thumb across her lower lip. “Tell me you haven’t made that sweet pussy of yours wet thinking about my tongue fucking you to orgasm,” I add with a moan, pressing my forehead to hers. “Because it’s all I can think about.”

“Jesus,Levi.”

“Even the way you say my name drives me fucking crazy. You did something to me, Mira, something I can’t put into words, but when I saw you walk out of that elevator, it took me right back to Thailand. Right back to the moment I saw you on that beach in the neon pink bikini you had on, and I knew right there and then I had to have you. You shouldn’t have given me a taste because now you’ve got me hooked and I want more.”

“Levi, please, we can’t.” Mira lifts her hands and places them on my bare chest like she is going to push me away, but she doesn’t, and the warmth of her touch spreads through me.

“Why can’t we?” I whisper furiously. “Are you seeing someone?”

Mira shakes her head, “No, it’s not that. I just…”

“You just what, baby girl?” I ask while Mira stares up into my eyes, and I watch her defences fall away one bit at a time. “You don’t want me?” I utter, inching closer. “Let me remind you.”

Mira’s lips part to protest, but I don’t give her the chance. I sweep down, pressing my lips to hers, swallowing whatever objection she has and replacing it with my tongue. God, it feels good kissing her again. Our mouths glide over each other like no time has passed at all… like we haven’t gone almost a year without kissing.

And just like that, all those feelings I’ve kept dormant creep back up to the surface and consume me that little bit more with every deliberate stroke of her tongue on mine.

“Midnight, you come and pick me up, no headlights!”

The sweet aroma of vanilla cupcakes dances around the kitchen as I jam to Taylor Swift's hit song, ‘Style’. Armed with my trusty pink spatula, I unleash my inner popstar, belting out those lyrics like a boss. If Tay Tay were here, she'd be so damn proud of my performance.

“You’ve got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt, and I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt!”

Picking up the bowl of raspberry cream cheese frosting, I use my spatula to fold it a couple more times before it's ready to be piped onto the two dozen cupcakes that are cooling on the wire rack on the countertop.

The air is bursting with the smell of freshly baked goods, each note filling me with an overwhelming joy. The aromas of sugar, butter and spices are the same scent that has greeted me every day since I was a little girl, watching my grandmother in her kitchen baking up heavenly treats for us. And that's the same delicious scent I have been walking into since I first opened Lovey's Sugar Shack a year ago.

Ever since I could remember, I've been in the kitchen with my Grammy, watching and helping her bake. Everything I am, I owe to her. Not only did she raise me, she made me into the baker that I am today. And it's all thanks to her that I get to leap out of bed every morning and do what I love.

A grin spreads across my face as I cast my gaze upon the photo in my kitchen, one of me and my grandmother baking cookies when I was five years old. It's now hanging on the wall for all to see. After my parents died in a car accident when I was three, my Grammy took me in and raised me all on her own. I didn’t get a chance to get to know my parents before I lost them, but my Grammy did everything in her power to ensure I didn’t feel their absence. I mean, I did, of course, but I would never show her that. Definitely not after she put aside her own grief over losing her child to raise me on her own.

She’s suffered a lot of loss in her life. Lost the love of her life—my Grandpa Emmett—to a heart attack almost thirty years ago and then tragically lost her daughter.

Despite all of that, she’s still the most remarkable woman I have ever known, and I’ll be happy if I am half the woman she is when I'm her age.

At seventy-three years old, she has a vitality that belies her age. She probably has a livelier social calendar than I do.

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