Summer Heat

By Francie Cleming

A woman running from her past

Kallie Hunt has one thing in mind: get as far away as possible. She moves to North Carolina in desperation, diving into her new life with the goal to forget.

 

A man escaping his present

When she meets Adryn St. Claire, everything she thought she left behind surfaces with a vengeance. Hi

• Language: English
• Publisher: author
• Release date: Sep 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781733399319

Book preview

Moving

TODAY IS THE DAY. I spent years dreaming of this and it is finally here. I stretch and roll out of bed, excited. A week ago, I had everything I owned packed up into a PODS container and shipped to my new apartment in North Carolina. The only things I hadn’t packed were blankets, a pillow, and my favorite books. All of those were packed in my car instead.

Naturally, my dad is the only one up when I pad into the kitchen, and he’s making breakfast. All of my siblings sleep till noon or later and my mom is lucky to catch sleep whenever she can. But my dad is always up at the crack of dawn, especially on his days off.

Good morning, sweetie, he greets, flipping a sausage patty as he turns to smile at me. I figured you would need a little something to get you by most of the trip. Can’t have my Kallie-cat going hungry.

I return his smile, noticing for the first time the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. In my attempt to get away from here as soon as possible, I had never considered the stress it would cause my parents. Now, I wonder if I’m being selfish. Thanks, Dad. I'll miss your cooking.

He sighs. You don’t have to go, you know. Not that far at least. Ohio would be closer. You could still visit from time to time without spending too much.

I know, Dad, but you also know why I have to do this, I reply, trying to ignore the pain in my heart. I’ve had my heart set on North Carolina too long to change my mind now. I still love you, and I hope you know I don’t blame you or Mom.

He busies himself with scooping eggs on our plates, the patties and toast following, before coming to sit beside me at the table. We eat silently, the clinking of our forks the only sound. I finish first, quickly rinsing off my dishes. When I turn around, Mom is standing in the door with tears rolling down her cheeks. She spreads her arms and I embrace her, letting her cry on my shoulder as I try to contain my own tears. I’ve always hated seeing her cry.

I know why you have to do this, she sobs, but I wish it could have waited a little longer.

All I can do is nod, afraid my voice will be squeaky if I speak. A bark from outside saves me from a longer hug, and I pull back slowly. Trixie wants inside, Mom.

Opening the back door, my parents’ two-year-old black lab retriever plows through, jumping on me before rushing to Mom in the kitchen. She sniffs around until settling on her food and wolfing it down.

I’m gonna miss you, girl, I tell her. I don’t know if she’s too into her food or actually ignoring me.

Mom and Dad follow me to the front. Dad pulls me in for a hug, patting my back. I love you, Kallie, and I hope you find what it is you’re looking for.

Mom hugs me next, squeezing me tight. Call us when you get there so we know you’re safe.

Will do, Ma, I answer, opening the door.

And Kallie? It’s a lot better to embrace your demons rather than run from them.

THE DRIVE IS LONG AND boring. Mom’s words circle around my head. I know she meant well but I begin to feel uneasy. Does my entire family think I’m running from my past? I’ve never liked how everyone looks at me, especially when I was growing up. When we went to family get-togethers, aunts and uncles would watch me like I was a ticking time bomb.

It took me until I was thirteen to realize what the looks were. They were worried. Worried I would explode and blame them for their lack of observation. But I knew it wasn’t their fault. They weren’t there to stop it. How could they have known? How could anyone notice the signs? Are there even warning signs to notice a pedophile?

I shiver, fear slipping down my spine. I’m not running. I’m moving to North Carolina because it’s the only place that has felt like home. I might’ve been stuck in Fort Bragg, but it was better than Michigan.

To stop the anger building up, I recall fond memories. My sisters and I sneaking downstairs to play Nintendo all night, Meredith always loud enough to wake up our dad. Lisa, the youngest, would yell at her afterward and say she hated her. Jeremy, our older brother, would try to have us eat worms by saying they were gummy worms. Lisa fell for it once.

Memories of Mom and Dad taking us to the park or on bike rides to the movie store. Sometimes, we would even go out for ice cream.

Along the way, I even think of my ex-boyfriends, how they had promised me forever or just how much of assholes a couple of them were. One had even drew me in with ideas of camping and hunting, talked about the years later down the road, and then ignored me the next day, never speaking to me again.

But as soon as I cross the last state line, all of those thoughts clear out of my mind.

Now, as I step into the warm, crisp air of Sable Springs, North Carolina, all of that is forgotten. Never before have I felt this at home in a place so foreign. A moving truck is parked in the lot and I recognize my couch being carried up the stairs. I walk over and introduce myself.

Hello, sir. Thank you for being so diligent in unpacking my belongings. My name’s Kallie, by the way. Kallie Hunt.

Ms. Hunt, I am Sam Rogers, an older man responds, extending his hand. He’s about my dad’s age, with kind blue eyes and a warm smile. I have papers for you to sign saying you have received all of your belongings. He hands me a clipboard, paper, and pen. But first, I recommend you go check to make sure. You arrived just in time, miss. We just finished unloading.

I thank him and head up to my new apartment. Upon entry, I take inventory, inform the men of where I want the heavy things, and sign the paper.

I must say, Sam jokes as he takes the paper, that was probably the easiest move we’ve done. You’re quite pleasant to work with. But, as a note, I must tell you we are not liable for any damage to fragile objects such as mirrors, dishes, or figurines, as that is your responsibility to wrap it well. However, if you think your boxes have been tampered with or are damaged in any way, we will look into it and reimburse you if it comes to it.

Okay..., I reply slowly, arching a brow.

We’ve had people try to blame us for broken objects they didn’t wrap in the first place. He shrugs. Money hungry people. But, Ms. Hunt, I’m sure you’d love to unpack, so have a wonderful day. Any questions, feel free to call. It was a pleasure to work with you.

You as well. I close the door behind him and turn to take a look at my new apartment. My bedroom is in the back corner, the bathroom across the tiny hall. The living room is a decent size with a slider door that lets out to a small deck. In front of me is a coat closet and then the kitchen with a dining area as tiny as the hallway. Everything is white—the walls, floors, kitchen cabinetry, and even the appliances.

Boxes are scattered around the apartment, most of them on the kitchen counter for my dishes and pans. Taking it all in mentally exhausts me. After the long drive, all I feel like doing is grabbing the things from my car. After making sure everything is inside, I call my parents and crawl into bed. I have a job interview tomorrow.

New Girl

THE INTERVIEW GOES well, the manager introducing herself as Cheryl Crowly. I crack a joke about Sheryl Crow, which she thankfully laughs at. At the end, she shows me around before telling me there are no uniforms, just show up looking presentable, and she expects me in tomorrow. On the way back to the office, I notice a man curled into a chair, with a dingy hoodie on and brown hair falling in front of his face. A book rests in his lap and I wonder what he’s reading.

Cheryl interrupts my observation to confirm my contact information and recommends I get a good night’s sleep before tomorrow. When you come in tomorrow morning, Meghan will be here. Let her know you’re training and she’ll get you up to speed on everything. It isn’t that hard.

I thank her again, shaking her hand before I exit.

As I leave, I peak over at the man to see if he’s still here. He is, and his eyes are on me, watching as I walk away. A chill runs down my spine and my legs pick up the pace.

THE NEXT MORNING, I’M relieved when the rooms and random chairs are empty. There is a young woman looking through the romance books, and I smile warmly when she glances at me. Meghan’s here too, with doll-like makeup and perfect red ringlets, and she greets me with a wide smile. She’s so excited to train me, she talks almost too fast to understand. I wish I could be that chipper in the morning. Even with coffee, I’m sluggish. She doesn’t seem to mind, more than happy to carry on with her monologue as we make our rounds of the bookstore.

The store is much nicer than any back in Michigan. With honey-colored wood paneling on the bottom half of the wall and mint green paint on the top, it feels homey. Plush chairs are in every corner, nook, and open space to allow for reading, and the lighting is just right to read by without hurting your eyes. Near the back are tables for studying purposes and personal computer rooms for privacy, which I think is neat.

Throughout the day, Meghan explains things to me about the store, Cheryl, the people, and anything else that comes to her mind. Her chatter doesn't bother me as it passes the time. When I ask her about herself, I get bombarded with a family history and wonderful tales of her boyfriend. She announces he just asked her to marry him, launching into the story.

"—as I’m stumbling, he reaches back and—oh my god! He’s, like, staring at us," she gasps, eyes widening as she looks at something behind me.

Who?

"Don’t turn around! Adryn. That guy who’s always here reading. I didn’t even know he had an interest in people. He is so weird, Kallie, I swear. Something’s not right with that one. He’s, like, totally attractive but he stays here all night instead of clubbing or something."

I turn but he’s already gone.

Oh, he already snuck off to his corner. He’s probably checking out the new girl, she teases, nudging me with her shoulder, to see if you’d be willing to come back to his lair and be the Ana to his Christian.

I scoff. "I doubt it. Nobody actually does Fifty Shades of Grey-type stuff."

Meghan smirks. Maybe you just haven’t met your ideal man yet. We women do some crazy things when we think it’s real. She winks. Well, I’m going to lunch. Will you be okay?

I check the clock. Sure enough, it’s nearly noon. Y-yeah, I answer, taken aback by her sudden change of topics. I have experience with a cash register so I’ll be able to handle it.

She smiles, waving as she takes off. Since the store is empty, I grab my sack lunch and pull out my sandwich.

A shadow looms over me. I flinch unintentionally before looking up to meet dark, depthless eyes. This must be the guy Meghan warned me about, the one who’s too attractive to be cooping himself in a bookstore. His hair is unkempt in such a way I wonder if a woman was recently pulling on it. He’s tall, over six foot, and clearly has some muscle definition.

I jerk my eyes up to his face, not letting them travel lower. Can I help you?

You’re new here.

Is it that obvious? I ask, a blush warming my cheeks.

Considering this is the first time meeting you, yes. I come in Nook’n’Cranny often.

Oh. Right. He means the store. So I take it you can help me? I try at a joke, to help me relax, but it falls flat.

He stares at me, not even cracking a smile. You’ll figure it out soon enough. I’m wondering if my book order has come in yet. Cheryl said it should be arriving soon.

Of course. I hastily open the browser on the computer. Name?

St. Claire, Adryn. The way he says it implies I should remember it, particularly with how slow he spells his first name.

As I type, I recall Meghan telling me his name and thinking I must have heard her wrong. I assumed it was Adrian. The browser comes up with a result.

You’re in luck. It arrived this morning. Scurrying to the back to avoid his gaze, I spend a little extra time looking over his book. A Dance with Dragons, it’s called. I know it’s in the Game of Thrones series but I don’t know what number it is. Still, the description sounds interesting.

Unable to postpone any longer, I set the book on the counter and ring him up.

Adryn is drumming his fingers in irritation. Did you have to read half the book first?

My ears warm. It looks like a good book, I explain feebly. You know, we can ship your orders to your house, so you don’t have to come to the store. And so I don’t have to see you.

I know, but I don’t want it going there. If there’s nothing else, I would like to enjoy my book now.

By all means. I wave my hand at the back rooms. It was a pleasure meeting you.

His lips twist into a sardonic grin. You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?

My jaw drops. He turns and heads to the private rooms, his shoulders shaking like he’s laughing at me. In shock, I eat my sandwich slowly, no longer wanting to eat like I did a few minutes ago.

Meghan returns from her lunch, seeming happier as she sets her purse down and greets me. I inform her Adryn got the book he ordered and she grimaces. Yeah, he was probably waiting for me to leave so he could scope you out without my interference. I told you he was weird.

I shrug. You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? loops through my mind on repeat. I don’t tell her about that, though, already imagining her reaction. We talk to pass the time. I ask her to restart her tale of engagement and she does excitedly.

Suddenly, Meghan’s face goes stark white and she drops behind the counter, whispering harshly, Don’t tell him that I’m here.

I almost ask her, Who? until I see a man walking up the rows of shelves toward us. He’s cute, in a surfer way. Tall, tan, and muscular with floppy blonde hair and flashing gray eyes, like he’s amused.

Hello, new girl, he drawls, dragging out the word girl. Never seen you around town before. But, perhaps you can help me find my cousin. Brown hair, brown eyes, usually reads a lot. I suppose he may strike some women’s fancy.

Do you mean Adryn? I inquire, checking on Meghan out of the corner of my eye.

"You do know him." He flashes a grin.

I inform him Adryn is in one of the private rooms. He thanks me, sauntering away with his hands in his pockets. It’s so quiet in the store I hear him open the door and exchange a few words with Adryn. A minute later, they come out of the room, Adryn shuffling behind. The guy throws me a grin and a wave as he leaves the store, the bell tinkling.

Is he gone? Meghan asks, still ducked behind the counter. Do you think he saw me?

Yes, they left, and maybe. He seemed to think something was funny.

Hesitantly, she stands, her eyes scanning every corner. Her hands tremble slightly, so she grabs them until they stop.

Meghan, I begin slowly, noting her reactions. Who is that guy?

Her eyes are haunted when they meet mine, full of pain. The only thing he is to me now is a mistake. I thought he left town. I’ve been avoiding him for a few years, hoping he would be wallowing in guilt somewhere, alone.

My brows lift.

He isn’t what you would call ‘the best boyfriend.’ If I were you, I wouldn’t entertain him anymore. I open my mouth and she adds, "You talked to him sweetly and you’re fresh meat, new girl."

Pride and Prejudice

I’M RUNNING DOWN THE hall, sobbing and screaming. Laughter rings out behind me, joyous for my pain. My legs surge with desperation but the hall is never ending. If I could just make it to a room, tell my mom what happened, everything will go away. The pain will go away and I could forget about it, everything. Up ahead, there’s a light, so I sprint faster. He won't catch me this time, not today.

A rough hand grasps my bicep as I turn the corner. Got you, he croons.

I bolt upright in bed, sweat covering every inch of me. My hands paw the sweat from my eyes as I make my way to the bathroom. I really need a shower. A quick glance at the clock reveals it to be a little after four. Either way, I’m not going back to sleep. As I lather, I remember a coffee shop that boasts they open at three and decide to give it a try. I’ll need coffee if I want to make it through today.

The shop is closer than I thought, a cute little shack called Hole in the Wall. I’m grateful the line inside is small. However, when the guy in front of me turns around, I see shimmering gray eyes and my enthusiasm drops. As if today could get any worse.

Hey, you’re that girl from the bookstore, right? I’m Trey.

I only nod.

I take it you aren’t from around here, he says after a moment of silence.

Is it that obvious?

Trey chuckles, seemingly unperturbed. Have coffee with me.

I wait while he orders and then order my own before responding. Meghan’s warning sounds in my head. I can’t. I have to unpack my things.

Tomorrow then.

I won’t be making this a habit.

The barista sets Trey’s coffee on the counter and he grabs it, taking a sip before walking off. He turns when he opens the door, says, Yes, you will, and exits.

Unbelievable. Who does he think he is to tell me what I’m going to do? But after the initial sip of my own coffee, I know I will be coming back. Later in the day, when I’m supposed to be awake. Which would also mean no more weird encounters with a guy who clearly wronged Meghan in some way. I climb back into the car and wonder if I should bring it up to Meghan at work.

Later, I shuffle into work with a fresh cup of coffee in my hand. Cheryl informs me Meghan called in, tells me she is here for a delivery, and instructs me on how to sort it all out when it comes.

The truck arrives at ten. After a quick refresher, Cheryl leaves me to it. Unless it’s a new release, the books stay in the back room, alphabetized by author and genre. With only seventy-five boxes, I’m done by three.

The hours pass until I’m standing behind the counter, reading Pride and Prejudice when I hear a throat clear. Startled, I look up to see Adryn standing there, brown eyes piercing. His gaze sends butterflies to my stomach.

Perhaps I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.

What?

It’s something Darcy tells Elizabeth, he explains. His voice is smooth as silk, soothing like honey. I can’t help but lean forward, closer to him. "Anyway, I’m looking for a book. Came out recently. Called The Wonder Engine, by T. Kingfisher. Do you have it?"

I can check for you. As I type it in the computer, I ask, Do you like historical fiction the best? You quoted Darcy perfectly.

He shrugs a shoulder.

We have it. Just a minute. I head into the back room to grab it, since it’s closer than walking to the aisle I put it in. I’m Kallie, by the way. I don’t know why I tell him my name when I didn’t tell Trey. Maybe I just need someone to know my name besides the ladies I work with.

He smirks, throws the money on the counter, and leaves.

WAIT, WHAT? CLARISSA demands.