Your Endless Love (The Bennett Family 9)

“It’s all good, Alex. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. If I found another’s man number in your pocket, I wouldn’t have reacted well.”

She waves her other hand. “I don’t believe that.”

“I almost choked on jealousy when your brother answered your phone... before you told me he was your brother, obviously.”

“Wow. I couldn’t tell.”

“I’m an actor, sweetheart.”

Her eyes narrow. “I don’t want you to act around me. I want to know what you’re thinking. All the time.”

That makes me pause. Acting is a self-preservation technique, but I know what Summer’s asking for, and I can’t resist her. “Okay.”

Maybe her trust in me when finding that number moved me more than I’m ready to admit, but I don’t want to hold back with her, even if it might get me burned. I accept that risk. I want to take it.

“What was your favorite dish as a kid?” Summer asks, while we eat bread with the several spreads that came as appetizers.

“Donuts. Mom makes the best donuts. Sometimes we’d go out to this restaurant close to the Japanese Garden. Good times.”

“Do you miss Portland?”

“Nah, just my parents. Sophie and I are still campaigning to convince them to move here.”

“What’s keeping them from doing that?”

“Ironically, I am.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think they’d be happier if I had a regular nine-to-five job. All this media attention is too overwhelming for them. We had some incidents a few years ago with paparazzi, and they’re still wary, so convincing them to move here is a work in progress.”

“Well, until they do, you’ll have a gazillion Bennetts smothering you.”

“I thought I needed a helmet for meeting your family.”

She holds up the forefingers of each hand. “First you will need a helmet. That’s a rite of passage. Assuming they like you, if you’ll want to keep them at bay, you’re probably going to need a bat.”

“Assuming?” I challenge.

“Don’t worry, I’m talking you up.” She grins, pointing at the food. “This will certainly earn you points.”

After we finish the starters and main course, I come to the troubling realization that the catering company forgot our dessert. I check the fridge, then call them.

“It’ll be here in half an hour,” I tell Summer, who’s inspecting my fridge like it’s some diamond mine. Sophie stocked it for my return. Summer pauses only to glance over her shoulder and say, “No need. I’ll make us a tiramisu. You’ve got all the ingredients, and it’s easy to make.”

I blink. “Summer, you don’t have to do that—”

“I don’t mind, I promise. Don’t order anything.”

I bring the phone back to my ear. “We won’t need that dessert after all. Thank you for your services.”

After clicking off, I watch Summer kick off her heels, cracking eggs in a bowl.

“Why is your fridge so well stocked?” she asks.

“My sister took care of it. Sophie is dying to meet you.”