The Summer of Us (Mission Cove 1)

I squeezed his hand. “Michael is a good guy. He’d treat her well. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Of course. It’s just that he lives in Mission Cove, and she lives in Toronto. Long-distance relationships are hard. And her lifestyle is very different.”

“It’s the same for us, Linc,” I reminded him, my heart in my throat.

“No. We’re different.”

I had to say it. “Linc, I have no desire to live in Toronto.” I indicated the huge city we were engulfed in, the traffic flow heavy around us, and the crowds of people. “I don’t like big cities.”

“We’ll work it out, Sunny. All of it. My business is transportable. And despite my wealth, I don’t think we’re that different. I’m still Linc under my fancy suit.”

“A suit you look hot in,” I teased, making him grin. Then I became serious again.

“I love Mission Cove. Despite our past, despite everything, it’s still home to me. I don’t think you feel the same way.”

He glanced my way with a frown. “Where you are is home, Sunny. You always have been, and you are that again. I was lost for years without you.”

“I felt the same way.”

“You’re my compass, Sunny. My true north. I swear, we’ll figure it out.”

His words warmed my heart. He was so serious and confident. Certain we would work things out. I wanted to believe him, to trust that he wanted this as much as I did. I smiled at him, letting the subject drop for now. I covered my mouth as a yawn escaped.

“We’re almost there.” He chuckled. “I’m going to take you to my house. You can have a nap while I’m at my meeting, then we have the rest of the day together. I’ve made dinner reservations for tonight, and I have tickets to a show.”

“That sounds wonderful. I hope the dress I brought is okay.”

“You’ll be beautiful.”

I felt my cheeks warm at his sincerity. “I think you’re biased,” I mumbled as we pulled into a quieter neighborhood. The houses were all tall, with garages on the main floor and a long flight of steps leading to the front door. Huge windows and spotless brick exteriors glinted in the morning sun. The street he turned onto was wide and circular with a fountain in the middle, an unexpected sight. Linc hit a button, and the garage door on a house with charcoal-gray brick, trimmed in glossy black, slid open. He parked the car, the door shutting behind us. He stepped from the vehicle and came around to open my door. I loved the fact that he still did that for me. He held out his hand, pulling me from the passenger seat. Bending down, he brushed a kiss to my mouth. “Welcome to my house, Sunny.”I looked around in awe. Linc’s house was stunning. We climbed the steps inside from the garage. I spied a workout room on the lower level and some other areas, but when we reached the main floor, my jaw dropped. Glossy marble floors, dark hardwoods, and light were all around me. A spacious living room, an elegant dining room, and a massive kitchen took up the entire level. The furniture was masculine and large. The walls a warm white, offset with colorful artwork. The kitchen was sleek and modern, and I may have squealed at the Keurig built into the fancy refrigerator. The floors were warm under my feet, and I gazed longingly at the massive gas stove.

“Do you cook?” I asked, running my fingers over the glossy surface.

“No,” he replied, sounding amused. “I have a housekeeper. I can do the basics, but she handles the rest.”

“Oh.”

He held out his hand. “I’ll show you upstairs.”

I followed him, studying the framed images on the walls, marveling at the thick carpet on the stairs. He waved toward the left. “My home office and a guest room.” He opened a set of double doors.

“My room.”

My eyes widened as I took in the expansive room. A king-sized bed faced the large windows that overlooked the fountain on the street. The walls were a rich blue, the molding a crisp white, giving the room a cozy, warm feel. I peeked into a massive walk-in closet, then followed Linc as he entered the bathroom. I stared at the large shower with multiheaded jets, then in longing at the gigantic tub.

Linc stepped behind me, wrapping me in his arms. “Maybe you can have a bath. You used to love soaking in the tub.”

“I still do,” I replied quietly, feeling overwhelmed as I looked around.

He spun me in his arms. “Hey, what is it?”

I shook my head, but he refused to let me go, tipping up my chin to make me look him in the eye. “What?” he demanded. “Tell me.”

“I’m embarrassed,” I admitted. “Having you stay at that little apartment. You seeing my place—compared to this, it’s a hovel,” I admitted.