Not Over You

Chapter Eleven

“A date,” Summer said to her reflection.

“Yes, a date,” Jemma Leigh said, walking up behind her and placing her hands on Summer’s shoulders. “All you need is some lipstick, and you’ll be ready to go.”

Summer smiled faintly, accepting the tube from the woman who seemed to be bound and determined to be her friend, whether she liked it or not.

“Gabriel’s gonna die when he sees you.”

Summer made a little noise. “Gabriel will probably order me to change.”

“If by change, you mean put on some sexy lingerie, then I have some you can borrow, too,” Jemma Leigh said with a conspiratorial smile. “That man won’t know what hit him.”

“You know Gabriel Edwards as good as I do, and we both know that will never happen.”

Jemma Leigh pursed her lips. “You have to stop thinking that way about yourself.”

Easy enough for someone like Jemma Leigh to say. “I’m stating the truth.”

“Then why did you bother inviting me over?”

Summer leveled her with a look. “The devil made me do it.”

“I’ve never been called that before,” Jemma Leigh said wryly.

Earlier in the afternoon, Jemma Leigh had caught Summer in another weak moment, and invited her to coffee again. Over caramel lattes, Summer had blurted the news. Okay, so if she was honest, she hadn’t blurted it. She had wanted Jemma Leigh to know, and not just because she would spread the news around town, but because Summer was nervous. With a capital OH DEAR GOD, WHAT HAD SHE AGREED TO?

And that’s how she ended up with Jemma Leigh helping her get ready at Carolina Dreams. Rose’s office had served as a dressing room, while Jemma Leigh had served as makeup artist and stylist by rushing home and back again with clothes, makeup, and anything else she could find. The room looked like a department store had exploded inside of it.

Summer plucked at a bead on her shirt. It was hot pink (naturally), with tiny, silver-colored beads along the sides. The sleeves were short and capped, and the white miniskirt with more pink and silver beads made her feel like she was bedazzled to the max. Matching silver and pink earrings dangled from her ears.

Overall, she looked nothing like herself and everything like the woman standing behind her, but Summer didn’t have the heart to tell her so. Mostly because she didn’t have a heart in the first place.

However, the makeup Jemma Leigh had applied was another story. Summer had never been able to pull off really dark or bright colors, at least not in her opinion, so she felt like a clown, even if she didn’t remotely resemble one.

“Could we tone down the eye shadow a bit? The hot pink at the top seems a little—”

Jemma Leigh’s face fell. “You hate it, don’t you? I bet you hate the entire outfit.”

“No!” Summer all but screamed, and Jemma Leigh’s smile returned in full force. “I don’t have the bones for this, not like you do…so I think we need to go a little neutral on the eye makeup.”

Striking a pose, as her new friend had been doing in front of the mirror she’d brought over all afternoon, Jemma Leigh tapped her chin. “You might be right. I thought with your attitude that you could carry it off, but the more I think about it….the more I see what’s underneath.”

Summer’s eyes widened, and she turned around to face Jemma Leigh. “Underneath what?”

“Underneath all that attitude. You can’t fool me, Summer Holland, but I won’t tell a soul.” Jemma Leigh winked at her. “Now, go wash that pretty face and we’ll take it from the top.”

Gabriel took one look at the woman walking toward him and forgot how to breathe.

Summer wore a pale blue sundress, a string of dark blue beads, and silver sandals. Her pale hair flowed down her back in big, bouncy curls. Brown eyes with the longest, blackest lashes he’d ever seen gazed at him, without malice, anger, or even scorn.

In fact, Summer looked nervous.

But how could she? It wasn’t her palms sweating. It wasn’t her heart pounding against her chest. It wasn’t her knees that were weak. It wasn’t her brain reminding her of the last kissed they shared, of how she felt in his arms and pressed against him. Oh no. That was all him, with all his body parts and brain conspiring against him.

“Let me take a picture,” Jemma Leigh said. She rushed around the counter, phone in her hand, and waited for Summer to join him.

“Do you mind?” he asked as she moved to stand beside him.

She shook her head in answer, sending the scent of flowers washing over him. It wasn’t her usual scent, but he liked it. Hell, he loved it.

Wrapping an arm around her, he whispered, “You look beautiful.”

She glanced up at him, giving an up-close and personal view of her flawless skin. There was a tiny mole, right by her left eye. The beauty mark hadn’t been there when they were younger, and every other time they’d been this close, it was to push the other away.

Well, with the exception of today, but he could give himself a pass for not noticing when he’d been consumed with kissing her. He hadn’t had a thought in his head about anything else but the way she tasted, which was how it should be.

“One more, you two. These are so good!” Jemma Leigh squealed.

Except now, when he wasn’t kissing her, and he was posing for a picture, all he could think about was kissing her again.

“Thank you. You look handsome.” Then she looked at the camera again. Her hair fell forward, obscuring her face, so he couldn’t see if she was smiling as Jemma Leigh took just one more picture.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yes.” Answering in monosyllables had never been Summer’s style. Usually, she had an accompanying skewering remark. Usually, they wouldn’t be going out on a date.

“I made reservations at Bluebelle. Hope you still like seafood.” He’d decided against taking her to Poor Boy’s tonight, for an after-dinner activity. Besides, he was getting a little old for that honky-tonk bar, and the crowd was getting younger every year.

Jemma Leigh beamed. “Taking my bestie to Palm Island. I approve.”

Summer and Jemma Leigh were best friends? That was…unexpected.

Placing a hand over her heart, Jemma Leigh sighed. “Bluebelle is so romantic. Lots of surprise engagements are on the menu there, or so I heard.”

Summer stiffened beside him. He wasn’t sure why. It had been her idea to get married in the first place. Did she think no one would notice when they got married, or when she sued for custody of Ivy?

Whatever she thought, he’d be there for her, in whatever way he could. In the meantime, he would unequivocally convince her that in order to have a family, she didn’t have to destroy the one she helped create. That she was worthy of love, of a family, and of everything she thought she wasn’t.

He pressed his hand against the small of her back and blinked, slightly startled by how warm and delicate she felt under his palm.

“Have her back at a decent hour, Mr. Edwards,” Jemma Leigh admonished. “A lady is never kept out later than midnight.”

He laughed softly. “Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I’m not a lady, so Gabriel can keep me out until the cock crows, but I’m pretty sure the preacher’s son isn’t allowed to be out past the sinning hour.” Summer stepped away from him, and headed to the front door. The bells rang as she went outside.

“Tonight should be fun,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“She doesn’t mean it, you know,” Jemma Leigh said, staring out the window. “It’s just battle armor.”

Yeah, he knew it. He’d always known it, but it was hard for him to keep his temper and be patient with her. “Don’t you think it’s time for her to be at peace?”

Jemma Leigh shrugged. “Sometimes, when you’ve been battling for so long, it’s hard to know when to lay your weapons down and surrender to love.”