It Happened One Summer (It Happened One Summer 1)

“That’s probably a good idea. I’m feeling very share-y right now.”

“I’m tempted to let you share, so I know what I’m up against. But I don’t want you telling me things and regretting it tomorrow.”

She was silent as he pulled onto the road and took the first right. “You talk about being with me like it’s a battle.”

“It is, in a way. But I’m grateful I’m the one fighting it.”

He could feel her studying his profile. “You’re worth fighting for, too. If you got banished to LA for three months, I would pull out all the stops to keep you there.” She paused. “Nothing would work, though. It’s not real enough for you. You’d hate it.”

“‘Hate’ is a strong word, honey. You would be there.”

“Eh.” She waved a hand. “There are thousands of me there.”

Brendan snorted at her joke. And then he realized she was serious.

“Piper, there is nobody like you.”

She smiled like she was humoring him.

“Piper.”

She looked startled by his tone. “Whoa. What?”

He pulled the car onto the side of the road, slammed on the brakes, and threw it into park. “Did you hear me?” He reached over to tilt up her chin. “There is nobody like you.”

“Why are you getting so worked up?”

“Because I . . .” He raked a hand through his hair. “I thought I was an intuitive man. A smart man. But I keep finding out new ways I’m flying blind when it comes to something so important. You. You are important. And I thought you were just scared of commitment. Or didn’t think you could belong in Westport. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? You think I have some kind of passing interest in you? Like it could just change like the wind?”

“Everyone else does!” Her eyes flashed. With pain, with irritation. “Not just guys. My friends, my stepfather. I’m this season’s color, in demand today, on the sales rack in Marshalls tomorrow. I’m just . . . momentary.”

“Not to me.” God, he wanted to shake her, kiss her, shake her some more. “Not to me.”

She jerked her chin out of his grip, flounced back against the seat. “Can we just talk about this tomorrow, like you said?”

Brendan slammed the car back into drive. “Oh, we’re going to talk about it.”

“Good! Maybe I’ll put together some talking points.”

“Me too, baby.”

They drove past No Name, and she made a small sound. Sniffed.

“What?” he asked, softening his tone.

“I was remembering the time you sent Abe to nail the memory foam to the top bunk. You’re actually really thoughtful and wonderful, and I don’t want to argue with you.”

He almost blurted out I love you, right then and there, but buttoned it up at the last second. The moment was too volatile to throw that confession into the mix, but he didn’t think he’d be able to keep it inside much longer. “I don’t want to argue with you either, Piper. All I want to do is bring you home, put you in one of my shirts, and find out if you snore.”

She gasped, some of the humor returning to her eyes. “I don’t.”

“We’ll see.”

“Do you have toast and Advil?”

“Yes.”

They pulled into his driveway a moment later. Brendan got out and rounded the front bumper to Piper’s side, smiling when she melted out into his arms. He held her and swayed for a few beats in the darkness, in what he thought might be a silent, mutual apology for shouting at each other on the drive home. And he wanted to do this for the rest of his life. Collect her from a night out with the girls, have her soft and pliant against him, be her man.

“You’re not even going to make out with me tonight, are you?” Piper said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. “You probably think you’d be taking advantage of me.”

Brendan sighed. “You’ve got it right.”

She pouted up at him. “That’s romantic and I hate it.”

“How about I promise to make up for it tomorrow?”

“Can we negotiate a kiss good night?”

“I think I can manage that.”

Appeased, she let him bring her inside. While he made her toast, she sat perched on his kitchen counter with a glass of water, looking so beautiful, he had to keep glancing over his shoulder, checking to see if she was real. That he hadn’t dreamed her up.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked after swallowing a bite.

“That I like you being here.” He braced his hands on the counter, dropped his mouth to her bare knees, and kissed them, in turn. “That I liked going into my bedroom today and finding a Piper-sized indent on my comforter.” A thought occurred to him. “When did you come over?”

She gulped. Didn’t answer.

“Not with that storm going on.” His right eye was beginning to tic. “Right?”

Piper set down her toast, laid the back of her hand against her forehead. Wobbled dramatically. “I feel kind of faint, Brendan. I think I’m fading.”