thought he wasn't looking. He had dark, shining hair that ruffled in the wind, amber eyes, and an aquiline nose. He had strong, compact muscles, but also a fine bone structure that made him surprisingly graceful. Summer wanted to see him in motion – swimming, maybe, or dancing.
When the silence eventually become awkward, Summer said to him, “So I told you about some of my bad decisions this morning. How about you? Any mistakes along the way?”
“You cut right to the chase, don't you?” Brandon smiled.
“What, should I start with 'Come here often?'” Summer laughed.
“I do, actually,” he said. “I come here a lot. But I didn't live here until just a few months ago. I had a nice, normal apartment in San Jose and a nice, normal job as an IT manager... and then I got laid off. And I couldn't seem to get any interviews. So eventually I retreated.”
He was looking down at his hands, his fingers clenched together. “The whole thing has messed me up more than I like to admit. My whole life, I've always been focused on success. Follow the rules, compete hard, only stand out in the right ways... and it seemed like it was working. But somehow I screwed up. Financially I'll be fine for ages, that's not really the issue – it's just that I don't know what to trust anymore, if I can't trust the rules.” He shrugged and looked over at her.
She leaned sideways and bumped shoulders with him. “Well, I can tell you that breaking all the rules doesn't work out any better.”
“That's not very comforting,” he laughed.
“Nope. No, it's not.”
The sun had fully set behind the mountains now. The fading light brought other senses into play. The wind had a faint scent of ocean beneath the dusty grass smell, and thunder rumbled far off in the distance. Summer heard crickets and katydids off in the brush, and she thought she could even hear the faint rush of Brandon's breath.
He stood up, and for a moment she was sure that he was going to hold out his hand to her, and she was just as sure that she would take it. But then he started cleaning up to-go containers, and the spell was broken. He took a few steps toward the house. “So I'll see you in the morning?”
“Sure. Good night.”
Chapter 3
Summer woke up to a whip crack of lightning, with bone-rumbling thunder only a split second behind it. Her heart hammered and she curled in on herself, uncertain for a moment where she was. The next lightning flash lit the angles of the folding screen, and the day came back to her.
Rain pounded on the roof and splattered against the windows. Her heart wouldn't calm. A storm shouldn't affect her like this – she'd ridden out worse in leaky tents. Pulling her sleeping bag around her, she went to the window. Across the lawn, she saw Brandon in the main house, lighting candles in the living room. Just that glimpse of him, that moment of human connection, felt like a life line thrown to her. She stood at the window and watched him. He came to his window and looked out, and Summer knew in her bones that he was watching for her.
She let the sleeping bag drop, and after the next lightning strike, she opened her door and ran barefoot toward the house. The rain hit everywhere; she was drenched to the skin in moments, her thin clothes clinging to her sensitive skin. Brandon opened the door before she even stepped on the porch. He had been watching.
She stood dripping in the doorway, suddenly unsure. Brandon took her hand and drew her in, closing out the storm behind her. Here in the sturdier house, the storm sounds were less wild – almost cozy, even, like a cocoon around them. Brandon pulled her closer and then changed his grip so their hands were palm to palm, fingers interlaced. They stood so close to each other, but not touching yet. Summer could feel his breath on her damp skin.
“This is probably a terrible idea,” said Brandon, his voice
When the silence eventually become awkward, Summer said to him, “So I told you about some of my bad decisions this morning. How about you? Any mistakes along the way?”
“You cut right to the chase, don't you?” Brandon smiled.
“What, should I start with 'Come here often?'” Summer laughed.
“I do, actually,” he said. “I come here a lot. But I didn't live here until just a few months ago. I had a nice, normal apartment in San Jose and a nice, normal job as an IT manager... and then I got laid off. And I couldn't seem to get any interviews. So eventually I retreated.”
He was looking down at his hands, his fingers clenched together. “The whole thing has messed me up more than I like to admit. My whole life, I've always been focused on success. Follow the rules, compete hard, only stand out in the right ways... and it seemed like it was working. But somehow I screwed up. Financially I'll be fine for ages, that's not really the issue – it's just that I don't know what to trust anymore, if I can't trust the rules.” He shrugged and looked over at her.
She leaned sideways and bumped shoulders with him. “Well, I can tell you that breaking all the rules doesn't work out any better.”
“That's not very comforting,” he laughed.
“Nope. No, it's not.”
The sun had fully set behind the mountains now. The fading light brought other senses into play. The wind had a faint scent of ocean beneath the dusty grass smell, and thunder rumbled far off in the distance. Summer heard crickets and katydids off in the brush, and she thought she could even hear the faint rush of Brandon's breath.
He stood up, and for a moment she was sure that he was going to hold out his hand to her, and she was just as sure that she would take it. But then he started cleaning up to-go containers, and the spell was broken. He took a few steps toward the house. “So I'll see you in the morning?”
“Sure. Good night.”
Chapter 3
Summer woke up to a whip crack of lightning, with bone-rumbling thunder only a split second behind it. Her heart hammered and she curled in on herself, uncertain for a moment where she was. The next lightning flash lit the angles of the folding screen, and the day came back to her.
Rain pounded on the roof and splattered against the windows. Her heart wouldn't calm. A storm shouldn't affect her like this – she'd ridden out worse in leaky tents. Pulling her sleeping bag around her, she went to the window. Across the lawn, she saw Brandon in the main house, lighting candles in the living room. Just that glimpse of him, that moment of human connection, felt like a life line thrown to her. She stood at the window and watched him. He came to his window and looked out, and Summer knew in her bones that he was watching for her.
She let the sleeping bag drop, and after the next lightning strike, she opened her door and ran barefoot toward the house. The rain hit everywhere; she was drenched to the skin in moments, her thin clothes clinging to her sensitive skin. Brandon opened the door before she even stepped on the porch. He had been watching.
She stood dripping in the doorway, suddenly unsure. Brandon took her hand and drew her in, closing out the storm behind her. Here in the sturdier house, the storm sounds were less wild – almost cozy, even, like a cocoon around them. Brandon pulled her closer and then changed his grip so their hands were palm to palm, fingers interlaced. They stood so close to each other, but not touching yet. Summer could feel his breath on her damp skin.
“This is probably a terrible idea,” said Brandon, his voice
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