Summer's Road Read Online Free

being disturbed while lost in my head. So few people got that about me.
    In the back of my memory, I recalled a little brown-haired boy running over, covered in mud, insisting we go down to the creek to catch bullfrogs. He wasn’t as broody and protective back then. Or perhaps that was the romantic artist in me altering memory.
    He wore his favorite faded jeans, even in this heat. But, knowing him, his shirt had come off probably hours before. A thin scattering of dark hair dappled his chest, making a trail down to the waistband of his jeans where a V of muscle peeked over the denim. His stomach was rippled with a slight six pack, the muscles lining his shoulders and biceps bunched as he crossed his arms. It wasn’t the kind of body manufactured in a gym, but rather the result of hard, physical work and good genes.
    Yeah, I could see why every woman in the county wanted a piece of him. Perhaps one day he’d allow more than sex with one of his conquests.
    His head was tilted down, his short, cropped black hair mussed, like he’d run his fingers through it half a dozen times. Interesting. He did that when he was upset. I took in his grin with a curious eye.
    Nope, not upset. He was up to something. Probably something wicked.

    Ian Memmer
    I knew what was coming before Summer even opened her perfect, pouty mouth.
    “Date didn’t go so well, huh?” She tossed me a beer.
    From her window seat, I caught the bottle with one hand and struggled to maintain a deadpan expression. “Actually, Susie’s right where I left her—in her bed, counting her blessings.”
    I chuckled as her eyebrows shot up, as they always did when she was annoyed with me. I made my way to the bed, setting the beer on the nightstand and sat down, paging through one of her female magazines with little interest.
    She walked over to the corner of the room and pulled clothes out of her top dresser drawer for the morning, her movements stiff. Ah, my girl was irked by my response. If there was one thing in this world I appreciated most, it was to annoy her. Most of the time, it was the only way to get a rise out of her. She’d been raising those eyebrows at me since as far back as my memory allowed her there.
    “ Counting her blessings ,” she repeated, turning away from the dresser, waving a satin red bra at me. I narrowed my eyes to mask the images that invoked. Summer Quinn, best friend of mine, had a body that could make a dead man breathe anew. “High opinion of your sexual expertise, eh?”
    “I didn’t hear Susie complaining.” I grinned, gaze on the magazine, and stuck my tongue in my cheek, knowing without looking her lips were twisted in a wry pout. That damn mouth of hers needed to be kissed by someone who knew how.
    “Pervert.”
    “Prude.”
    “I’m kicking you out in five minutes.” She stared at the ceiling, then me. “I have class in the morning.”
    “Summer school is a travesty to this nation.” I rubbed my hand over the handmade quilt my mother had fondly stitched for her ten years ago.
    “You know it’s my art therapy class.” She rubbed her forehead in frustration.
    Tiny wisps of caramel-colored blonde hair at her nape and by her left ear had freed themselves from her ponytail. I looked away before I crossed the room to touch them. “I don’t understand how you get paid to play with paint and bratty kids all day. And it’s a waste of your talent.”
    Except, I did understand, but her reason for teaching was absurd. Normally, I didn’t bother bringing up the class with her. A futile argument, one among many. I had been worried about her all damn day. And that class couldn’t be helping her mindset.
    Being the giver she was, she rarely worried about herself. She’d gotten me a passing grade in more than one class in high school. If not for her, I’d be stuck behind a desk somewhere instead of building them, using my business degree instead of my hands. She was the first person to ask about my projects, encouraging