Unforgettable Summer: Wild Crush, Book 1 (4 page)

Summer shrugged at Ty’s drawled comment. What could she say about her dad? He was a demanding man who had expected his children to make full use of the educational opportunities afforded them. While he didn’t exactly think practicing herbal “mumbo jumbo” was making full use, he’d finally stopped verbalizing his thoughts on the issue. “Dad remarried last year. Dianne is a psychologist with two sons, both very successful in finance. He’s relaxed a bit with me and Jasmine, now that he has the sons he always wanted.”

Summer had meant the remark as an offhand joke, but Ty’s frown made her fear it had come out sounding bitter. Remorse niggled. She had no wish to malign her father, he’d done the best he could with the hand he’d been dealt when Joy Campbell died. He’d never asked to be a sole parent any more than Summer had asked to lose her mother.

“My dad loves me.” Summer felt the need to come to Rex Campbell’s defense. “Everything he’s done has been because he wants what’s best for me.”

Including making sure she didn’t throw her life away on a nomadic type like Ty Butler. The derisive turn of Ty’s lips made Summer wonder if he had made the same connection between her statement and what happened in the past. If so, he didn’t say. Instead he steered the conversation away from her family altogether. “So what do you do at the clinic?”

“Everything from aromatherapy to acupuncture.” Summer relaxed a fraction at the change of subject. She’d decided to study naturopathy despite the fact Duncan had shared her father’s disdain for the practice. After the divorce, it had given her something to focus on, to work toward. Now, she was proud of her job and the business she’d built all by herself. “I do sports massage too. I’ve treated your mother a few times.”

“Yeah, she’s still doing those triathlons. Not bad for an old bird.”

“I’ll tell her you called her that next time she comes in.”

“No you won’t.”

His smile was knowing, and Summer bristled. Okay so clearly Ty was making an affectionate joke and there was no way Summer would repeat it to his mother, but she didn’t much appreciate that he seemed so certain of how she’d behave. She wasn’t that predictable.

“Here’s your chai latte and cookie, Summer.”

Having apparently noticed her involved in conversation, Patrice chose that moment to appear at the table, delivering Summer’s order instead of having her pick it up. Summer’s regular order, the one all the cafe staff knew by heart.
Not predictable, eh, Summer?

Smiling a thank-you, Summer silently cursed the missed opportunity to make her exit when her order was called out. It would have been the perfect excuse to leave the table, depart the cafe altogether so she could catch her breath. Instead she was still sitting here, part of her jittery with the urge to flee while her pride told her not to give away how strangely nervous she actually was.

For God’s sake, why are you nervous?
Summer was dismayed to discover being in Ty Butler’s presence still had the power to do peculiar things to her heartbeat. Dismayed and…oddly relieved.

You’re divorced, not dead.
The line Penny had delivered more than once echoed in her head. Summer had never told her employee how her flippant words saddened her, made her mind careen away from a truth she didn’t want to acknowledge. For a long time it had felt like a part of her
had
died somewhere along the way, the part that could still be physically affected by a man’s presence. The part of her that could still be exhilarated by
anything.

She wasn’t miserable by any stretch of the imagination. But if she ever took time to examine her life, Summer couldn’t say she was exactly happy either.

“This is weirder than I thought it would be.”

Ty’s rueful statement made Summer lift her gaze from where it had been fixed on the plastic lid of her takeaway cup. Her eyes connected with Ty’s, making Summer aware she had been avoiding direct eye contact since she’d first seen him sitting in the cafe. Now, she forced herself to hold Ty’s gaze. That unexpected spike in her heart rate occurred again. She had once known those whiskey-hued eyes so well, and for a fleeting moment she was transported back in time, to those months of teenage longing and anguish.

And the lust. Dear God, the lust. A remnant of it passed through her like a ghost, sending tingles up her spine before common sense returned and Summer forcibly tamped the reaction down. His eyes were the same, but so many other things about him were different. The careless stubble that graced his jaw, the hard lines of his mouth that lent a sardonic edge to his smile. His shoulders and arms were more solid, more roped with muscle. He was more of everything, like nature had taken the boy he used to be and multiplied his physicality, his persona, by a thousand, creating a man who was both innately congenial and overtly intimidating at once.

“Yes, it is weird.” Summer feared that while she looked at Ty and saw more than what there once was, when he did the reverse he would see something less. Unsettled by the thought, Summer pushed her chair back. “I have to go. I have a client soon.”

Ty did nothing to delay her as she stood, but Summer felt his eyes resting on her, the curiosity in them, as she collected her cup and packaged cookie. He said, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Sure. If you’re ever in need of a good naturopath, you know where to find me.”

It was a parting remark she often used in a casual manner. But Ty’s brows hiked and Summer wanted to sink into the floor. Did he think she meant it seriously? That she was suggesting he come to her for treatment? If this conversation had been awkward, she didn’t want to imagine what it would be like to spend an hour with him in her private treatment room.

Wishing she could take the comment back but seeing no way to without making more of an idiot of herself, Summer merely offered a wan smile before turning on her heel and striding out of the cafe.

Ty knew Summer hadn’t meant him to take her offer of naturopathy services literally. Yet three days after he’d seen her in the cafe, he stood in front of her practice with his bung shoulder giving him hell and his mother’s insistent voice echoing in his head.

Summer’s the best, you should go to her about it. This is Leyton’s Headland, you wouldn’t be the first surfer she’s helped with shoulder pain. Why are you reluctant? Do you have something against her?

How could he explain the situation to his mother without getting into what happened ten years ago, the details of which he’d never imparted to his parents? He couldn’t, so to appease his mother he’d agreed to drop by Summer’s Retreat today and see if she could do anything about the throbbing pain in his right shoulder, a recurring problem that had been bugging him for the last few years.

Not being the type to hesitate, Ty wrestled with his reluctance to open the glass door in front of him. Why the hesitation? Because his and Summer’s first conversation after a decade had been a bit awkward? Because he’d noticed a few things about her that he’d forgotten? Like how very petite she was without ever seeming fragile. Like the way she could hold a person’s gaze without giving away anything about what was going on inside her. Like the dusky rose color of her lips and their perfect cupid’s-bow shape.

If for no other reason than he refused to act like a big chicken about this, Ty pushed open the glass door, reminding himself that Summer was still—he assumed despite the use of her maiden name on the door—a married woman. He had no business noticing her lips or anything else about her.

A bell on the door jingled, heralding his arrival. There was nobody in the reception area, and Ty took the moment alone to survey the soft pastel-green and gray decor, the comfy-looking tub chairs in the waiting area and the health-and-wellbeing-type magazines fanned over a small glass table. Everything was as neat as a pin, the new-age music filtering out of some hidden speakers not so loud as to be intrusive. The place gave off a vibe of welcome and order, of friendly distance.

“The woodlock oil should help, Mrs. Jasper. I have a couple of bottles in stock if you’d like some.”

“Yes, I’ll take one, thanks.”

Ty turned at the sound of the voices, seeing a middle-aged woman emerge from a hallway that presumably led to the treatment area. Summer walked behind the woman, her slight frame draped in a pair of black pants and a flowing mint-green blouse. Her hair was tied back in that straight black ponytail he’d always associated with her.

When she looked up and saw him, her steps faltered, her eyes widening in obvious surprise. Ty was more than a little stunned himself. The last couple of times he’d seen her his heart had performed an odd leap, his pulse turning hot. He’d attributed the reaction to the shock of seeing Summer unexpectedly. But today he’d known he was going to face her and still…

If anything his pulse raced faster. And his palms felt damp. He hadn’t experienced sweaty palms since…

Bloody hell. Probably not since the last time he’d been in a car with Summer Campbell. He’d certainly experienced lust in the ten years since, and plenty of it. He’d known his share of adrenaline too—when confronted by ten-foot waves. Over a woman? No chance. Ty Butler didn’t get jumpy because of a woman.

Ty stood off to the side, tamping down the uncharacteristic urge to flee, while Summer finished up with her client. When the woman at last exited the shop, the little jingle of the bell grated on Ty’s nerves.

Summer turned to him. “Ty.”

For some reason the noticeable caution she displayed with him, the way her smile dimmed a degree, rankled further. “I find myself in need of a good naturopath. I assume you meant it when you said I could come to you.”

“Of course,” she said, not missing a beat. “What seems to be the problem?”

“My shoulder. I went for a surf yesterday, stayed out a bit long, I suppose. It gives me grief sometimes when I overdo it.”

“Lots of surfers have that trouble. It’s probably a type of repetitive strain from all the years of paddling. Did you stretch properly before you went out?”

Did she think he was a bloody amateur? “Yes. I stretched.”

Her brow arched at his staccato reply. “Okay. You could do some acupuncture to get to the deeper issue, but I’d suggest some remedial massage to begin with. I’m not sure I have a free appointment this afternoon, but Penny might be available.”

I don’t want Penny.
The thought made that leap of adrenaline surge within him again, made him tetchy. Ty glanced around the empty waiting room. “You seem to be free now.”

Ty was stunned at his own rudeness. If Summer was as well, she didn’t show it. She merely held his gaze for a few heartbeats before replying. “I suppose I could have a quick look now. Follow me.”

Ty followed her into a room with a long massage table positioned in the middle. More of the pastel-green decor and new-age music filled the room, but the lights were dimmer in here and several scented candles provided illumination. The atmosphere was cozy, intimate.

Get a grip, Butler.
Candles and music were standard for a place like this, meant to relax, not create intimacy.

“Take a seat and fill this out.” Summer handed him a clipboard with a single sheet of paper attached. “Standard procedure for all new clients.”

Sitting on a rattan chair beside what was obviously Summer’s desk, Ty filled out the form quickly, spending a bit of time at the “list previous injuries” section before handing it back.

Summer raised an eyebrow as she read the form. “Your body’s been through a lot. Your shoulder, your knee. You have a nasty scar there.”

Ty touched the jagged pink line that curved around his kneecap. “A nasty collision with some coral a while back.”

“Does it give you trouble as well?”

“Not today. But it’s more of a help, seeing as it aches when it’s about to rain. I can pretty accurately predict the weather.”

“A skill usually only possessed by elderly men and meteorologists.”

He grimaced at her quip, uncomfortably aware as he occasionally was these days that he was getting old. Not old old, but professional-athlete old. His thirtieth birthday was around the corner, which meant if he kept going at the pace he had been the past ten years, he could look forward to another ten collecting more injuries and aches than most men in their sixties had.

“I apologize, that was a rude thing to say.”

“No worries.” He didn’t want her to think she could impact his mood so easily. “The body’s not going to hold up forever, I know that.”

“So you
are
thinking of quitting surfing and moving back here?”

“Which rumor mill churned that one out?”

“I’m not in the habit of listening to rumors,” she said stiffly. “I saw you looking at real estate at AJ Sanderson’s.”

Ty’s lips twitched. “So you’re only in the habit of spying then.”

“I wasn’t
spying.
”

The twitch turned to a grin at her indignant denial. Summer looked up from the clipboard and saw the expression on his face. She let out a breath. “I forgot what it was like to be teased by you.”

“Missed it, have you?”

Summer’s gaze darted away once more. Ty instantly regretted the taunt, wondering why he had the urge to taunt her at all. He wasn’t nineteen and tied up in knots about her anymore. He wasn’t interested and she wasn’t available anyway, end of story.