“We’ve been in touch all year—why would that end?” He didn’t expect anything permanent to develop between them, though; that would be asking too much.
“We can take turns calling each other,” she offered. “Maybe exchanging e-mails.”
“All right,” he agreed.
Summer was silent following that, and he was beginning to recognize quiet moments as a warning. “What’s wrong?”
She glanced at him and smiled softly. “I was thinking it would be nice to see each other every once in a while. I hope I don’t seem pushy.”
Seeing her on a regular basis suited him just fine. They hadn’t even gone their separate ways yet, and James was already starting to feel withdrawal symptoms.
“I could fly up and visit you one month, and you could fly down and visit me the next,” she suggested, again sounding uncertain.
James’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. He suspected that the more often he saw her, the harder it would be to let her go.
“You’re not saying anything.”
“I was thinking.”
“What?”
The complete truth would have embarrassed them both. “I was reviewing my schedule.” The primary wasn’t until September, but Ralph Southworth, a businessman and longtime friend who’d agreed to head James’s campaign, had made it clear long ago: From here on out, James’s life wasn’t his own. Every place he went, every civic event he attended, would be a campaign opportunity.
“And?”
“February might be difficult for me to get away.” His workload had suffered because of this vacation, and another trip, however brief, so soon afterward could cause additional problems.
“That’s okay, I can come to you. In fact, I’ve probably got enough frequent-flyer miles to make the trip free.”
“Great. Then I’ll try to come to Anaheim in March.”
“Wonderful.” She lit up like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. Then she hesitated and bit her lower lip. “April might be difficult. Disneyland stays open until midnight during spring break, and we add a second Beauty and the Beast show in the evenings. It’s hard to get a free weekend then.”
“We can work around it.” He didn’t want to mention that from June onward, his schedule would be impossible. There was no hope of visiting California, and even if she was able to come to Seattle, he couldn’t guarantee he’d be able to spend any time with her.
“Yes, we can work around any obstacle,” she agreed. But she didn’t sound optimistic.
They were outside the city now, driving on a two-lane highway that led to Red Rock Canyon. “I’ll be very involved in my campaign this summer.” He didn’t feel he could be less than honest.
“Summer’s the busiest time of year for me, too,” she said with an air of defeat. “But we can make this work, James, if we both want it badly enough.”
It frightened him how much he wanted Summer, but he was a realist, so he pointed out the obvious. “Long-distance relationships hardly ever work.”
“How do you know? You’ve had several and you speak from experience?”
James resisted the urge to laugh at her prim tone. If memory served him, his first-grade teacher, Mrs. Bondi, had used precisely that voice. Come to think of it, he’d been in love with her, too.
“You’d be shocked by how few relationships I’ve had,” he confessed.
“Do we have a relationship?” Summer asked softly.
James certainly hoped so. “Yes,” he answered. And then, because she seemed to need convincing, he pulled onto a dirt road, behind a ten-foot rock. A trail of red dust plumed behind them.
“Why are you stopping?” she asked.
James wore a wide grin and held out his arms. “It appears to me you need a little reminder of how involved we are.” James knew he was asking for trouble. Trouble with a capital T. His resistance was about as weak as it could get.
“Oh, James.”
“A few kisses is all, understand? I don’t have much willpower when it comes to you.”
“You don’t?” The words were whispered. “That’s probably the most beautiful thing you’ve said to me.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” James asked as his mouth swooped down on hers. He kissed her the way he’d been wanting to all morning. No, from the moment he’d watched her approach him in the gazebo.
He kissed her again and again, unable to get his fill. He demanded and she gave. Then she demanded and he gave. He moaned and she sighed. Then and there, James decided he’d do whatever he had to—move heaven and earth, take a red-eye flight—to be with her. He doubted once a month would be enough.
He plowed his hands into her hair and sifted the long strands through his fingers. With their mouths still joined, he lowered one hand to her throat. Her pulse beat savagely against his fingertips.
James had never thought of himself as a weak man. But with Summer he felt as hot and out of control as a seventeen-year-old in his dad’s car.
Reluctantly he dragged his mouth from hers and trailed moist kisses along the side of her neck.
“James.”
“Hmm?” He brought his mouth back to hers, kissing her slow and easy. Talking was the last thing on his mind.
She pulled slightly away. “James.”
“Yes?” he asked, distracted.
“We seem—” she whispered breathlessly.
His lips returned to her face, lighting on her forehead, her nose, her chin.
“—to have company.”