A Taste of Summer Read online

  A Taste of Summer

  By

  Beverly Preston

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Copyright © 2015 by Beverly Preston

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means without the written consent of the author, except for brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the retailer and purchase your own copy.

  Cover Image by Scott Hoover

  Edits by Ellie McLove

  Cover designed by Caylee Rae

  Visit Beverly Preston at

  www.beverlypreston.com

  To my youngest daughter Jordyn,

  Your strength and courage inspires me and so many others

  You are a warrior

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Other Novels from Beverly Preston

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  To everyone who is falling in love with The Mathews Family, I cannot thank you enough for your support and words of encouragement.

  To my husband Don, thank you for loving me just right.

  To my family and friends who support me in my endeavors, your words of encouragement and friendship are priceless.

  Caylee Rae, thank you for creating a gorgeous cover. I love it!

  Jennifer Haren, Cara Gadero, Francine Petro, and Pamela Carrion…you ladies rock! Thank you for taking the time out of their busy lives to administrate and promote the fan page for my writing and The Mathew Family Series. Your love and support means the world to me. This crazy journey wouldn’t be the same without you and the BBG’s.

  I would also like to thank Denise Milano Sprung, Amy Barber, and Kimberly Morse-Bertoia. Your valuable input made A Taste of Summer even better.

  Chapter One

  ‡

  Sweat trickled down her arm from wrist to elbow. Droplets of determination pooled on the rubber mat beneath her spin bike. Carrie Ann crouched lower, hovering over the handlebars, intensifying her focus. The nose of her saddle bumped against her inner thighs as she pedaled aggressively, cresting the top of her virtual hill. Her pace slowed, but she pushed through the discomfort. The burn in her glutes was no match for her steadfast determination to fit into the little red dress hanging in her closet.

  The music on her iPod switched tracks, cueing her cool down with Dance With Me Tonight by Olly Murs. She reached down giving the resistance knob three half turns loosening the tension on the pedals. Sitting back onto her cushioned seat, her stride coasted along with the beat slowing her heart rate.

  Carrie Ann lifted her hands to the ceiling working through a routine of stretches. She dismounted the bike and kicked her heel to her bum, closing her eyes as she deepened the stretch in her tight quad. Switching feet, Carrie Ann bobbled slightly and threw her arm out to the side for balance, accidentally whacking someone next her. Startled by the jolt, her eyes popped opened, staring at a teenage boy. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear him over the bass of Rude Boy by Rihanna thumping in her ear.

  Her brows lifted inquisitively. Carrie Ann tugged the earbud free from her ear, tossing the handsome young man a small smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?”

  He crossed a lanky somewhat defined arm in front of her, casually gripping the handlebar of her bike. “I said, you must be exhausted—” Before she could reply he continued, “—from running through my mind all day.”

  Surely she must’ve heard him incorrectly. He was probably fifteen at most sporting a baby face and a patch of ten whiskers on his chin. “Excuse me?”

  A dose of youthful overconfidence drifted over his mouth in a sharp grin. “I seem to have forgotten my number. Can I have yours?”

  “My phone number?” Carrie Ann scanned the near vicinity, row after row of workout equipment, for the practical jokester responsible for the madness. “Ha ha. Very funny. Who put you up to this?”

  Her amusement only encouraged the boy’s macho bravado. “No one put me up to anything. I need a date. I just got into LA and I’ve got this Red Carpet event—”

  “A date?” she scoffed at the ludicrous suggestion. Though she looked young for her age, Carrie Ann was still all of thirty-four years old.

  “Yeah, you know. A date. You, me, hundreds of fans screaming as we stroll down the Red Carpet.” His voice cracked emphasizing the words Red Carpet…for the second time. A self-absorbed twinkle gleamed in his brown eyes as if he expected her to melt and drop to her knees right there in the gym.

  “Kid, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  “I’m totally serious. My uncle has this movie premier and I can’t just bring anyone.” A chunk of blond hair fell on his forehead and he flipped his head to the side. My date needs to be…hot, and well, you’re the hottest girl I’ve seen since I got to LA.”

  She sneered at the absurdity. Silliness turned to annoyance. Carrie Ann switched gyms a few months back, paying out the nose to invest in her fitness and more importantly her privacy. Her last gym was more crowded than a cattle call casting session.

  Carrie Ann rolled her eyes. She moved around him, gathering her workout towel and reaching for her bag. “Look kid, you seem real sweet, but—”

  “You’re right about one thing.” A familiar voice, deep and perfectly modulated, approached from behind. “She is the most beautiful woman you’ll ever lay eyes on. But, you’re reaching for the stars with this one, Drew. She’s a heartbreaker.”

  An ice cold tickle ascended up her spine raising the hair on the back of her neck. Her head snapped, glancing over her shoulder, colliding with a pair of rich amber eyes from her past. Without breaking eye contact, Ryan Summer strolled right into her personal space sporting athletic shorts, a fitted muscle shirt and a killer smile.

  Nowadays, most people knew the Hollywood heartthrob as Ryan. Just Ryan. No last name needed. But after nearly a decade of blockbuster hits and infamous relationships that skyrocketed his success into superstardom, to Carrie Ann, he was still just Summer. Her old college flame.

  “Funny, I could say the same about you,” she countered his jab, marshaling a bit of annoyance in her tone to combat the rush of heat spreading to her already pink cheeks.

  A sexy smile caught the curve of his wide, firm mouth. “Hello, Red.”

  “Hello, Summer.” Carrie Ann tossed a trivial nod toward the teenager. “Who’s this? Your new apprentice?”

  “Apprentice?” Moving a step closer, he dragged his fingers through the short cropped layers of sandy blond hair. “This is Mark’s boy. Do you remember my nephew, Drew?”

  “Your brother’s boy?” she questioned in surprise. Avoiding the view of his bicep curling into the size of a softball, Carrie Ann ran a quick
scan over the young man at his side. “Whoa, you had to be four or five years old the last time I saw you.”

  “I don’t remember meeting you.” Drew’s eyes flickered with bemusement and optimism.

  She extended her hand. “I’m Carrie Ann. I knew you when you were—”

  “You’re Carrie Ann? The Carrie Ann?” The boy spun toward his uncle, his blue eyes broadened in disbelief. “The One?”

  Her stomach twisted hearing the title. A flash of perspiration instantaneously flooded her palms. Before she had time to renege on the clammy greeting, Drew clasped her hand, giving it a polite shake.

  A low rumble of laughter simmered in Summer’s chest and a rosy shade of red burnished high on the bridge of his nose. He nodded, “This is The Carrie Ann. The One who got away.”

  No matter how many years had passed, it never got any easier to see him. Each time she did, she suddenly found it harder to breath.

  The pounding of her heart quickened as her gaze slipped over his rugged well-defined features. A three day scruff accentuated the slight dimple at the bottom of his chin. The disheveled layers of hair were wet from exertion near his temple and nape. Time had been very good to him.

  She felt the warmth of Summer’s hand close around the back of her bare arm. The early morning stubble of his beard brushed against her cheek as he leaned closer pressing a small kiss near her temple. Carrie Ann squirmed at his nearness, ducking to the side attempting to put some space between them.

  “I’m…I’m all sweaty,” she insisted breathily.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured softly in her ear. The heat of his breath brought chill bumps to the damp skin near her neck. “I remember enjoying you all sweaty.”

  Ryan’s golden eyes locked onto hers, anchoring her feet to the floor. The penetration of his stare momentarily tied her tongue in a knot, turning the awkward moment even more difficult. Carrie Ann hadn’t bumped into Ryan in at least three years and she hadn’t seen him covered in sweat in ten. An image of him, gloriously naked, flashed in her mind and her thighs. Frustration mounted as her body willingly betrayed her.

  Carrie Ann’s jaw set rigid contemplating the idea of flipping off her hooha for its insubordination.

  “That was a long time ago,” she snipped abruptly.

  “Seems like only yesterday to me.” His voice so faint the words were nearly inaudible.

  She returned her attention to Drew. “I’m sure I’m just one of many women who’ve made your uncle’s list.” Her tone came out a bit sharper than intended filling her with a strange pang of guilt.

  The boy, oblivious to her insolence, gave a doubtful shake of his head. “I don’t think so. He still—”

  “No matter how many years go by, Carrie Ann,” a rogue smile tipped the corner of Summer’s lip, “you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

  Carrie Ann tossed him a sardonic one-shoulder shrug of appreciation for the compliment. A compliment she suspected he used on all of his old girlfriends. Desperate to change the direction of their conversation, she chided, “Drew was just showing off his greatest pick-up lines. Is that seriously the best you can teach him?”

  “Blame that on his dad, not me,” he joked.

  Her eyes scanned beyond rows of sports equipment toward the exit, mentally visualizing walking out the front door, before settling her gaze back on Ryan’s handsome face.

  “And you know I don’t need pick-up lines to impress a woman.”

  He stood a mere twelve inches from her, filling her breath with traces of clean heated male skin. A scent that was all too familiar. The thumping of her heart impeded the movement of her feet. Another bolt of awareness struck low in the pit of her stomach watching his grin turn full detecting her discomfiture.

  The cocky smirk spreading over his face was damn near like striking a match to kindling doused in gasoline. Dangerous. Especially if you stood too close.

  “Yeah, I remember. All you had to do was flash a football jersey at women to get them into bed. I’m sure you get much further with an Oscar.” She dished out another jab before rationalization kicked in. It took less than five minutes for her ex to burrow under her skin like a sliver. Why the hell do I let him get to me like this?

  The smile chased away from his face. Replaced with sort of deep contemplative sadness. His gaze drifted to her ponytail. As if in a trance, Ryan reached out and looped a piece of her silky dark hair through his fingers. “Your hair’s getting long. You growing it out?”

  It was getting awkward.

  It always did.

  Every time they bumped into each other she felt like he wanted to pick up the pieces of their relationship right where they left off.

  “Yep, I’m growing it out. Women do that occasionally. I should get going. Good luck finding a date, Drew.” Hiking the strap of her gym bag over her shoulder, she forced a subtle smile looking at Ryan. “And please, for the sake of all women in LA, teach him some better material. Maybe even go the extra mile and teach him the proper way to ask a girl out. You know…flowers, movies, maybe even go as far as making sure the woman is born in the same decade.”

  “I’ll be sure and do that.” His smile warmed, heating the color of his eyes to smooth cognac beneath the thick rim of dark lashes.

  Carrie Ann didn’t bother wasting time changing out of her cycling shoes or stopping at the ladies locker room. The sound of her hurried steps drowned out the pounding of her heart as she made a beeline past the front door toward the parking lot.

  Slipping into the solitude of her car, she gripped the steering wheel with both hands. Attempting to rid herself of the onslaught of emotions rising to the surface, Carrie Ann closed her eyes and drew a breath of air through her nose. Slowly, she filled her lungs to full capacity, and held, before letting it go between pursed lips.

  Her head fell back against the beige, leather headrest. Every time she saw him, their goodbyes always seemed unfinished, the air always felt heavier, and the pain in her heart always tore a little deeper.

  Carrie Ann and Summer met her third year of college at a party following a football game. Sparks flew the first time they laid eyes on each other. He was smart, gorgeous, funny and cocky as hell. None of which could be measured on a small scope. Summer wasn’t the egotistical, narcissistic, big-headed kind of cocky that came strapped to the majority of football players she knew. Summer bore the kind of cockiness a man possesses when he holds enough self-assurance for that of a dozen men. Nothing was out of his reach. Not even Carrie Ann Lowell.

  Carrie Ann grew up with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth, or as she liked to refer to it as the silver shovel crammed down her throat. Her father was a renowned LA attorney. He cut his teeth and his sheets defending the rich and famous. Her mother died of a rare heart condition when she was only eight years old. After surviving three stepmothers from hell, or gold diggers as she preferred to call them, Carrie Ann vowed never to settle down until after college. More specifically, she swore she’d never step into a serious relationship until she was at least thirty years old.

  Thirty was the golden number. The line she drew in the sand. That was, until she met football star, Ryan Summer.

  Summer was USC’s most beloved quarterback. A football hero and rumored to be the overwhelming favorite for the Heisman Trophy, until a knee injury crippled his career. They dated for nearly two years. He was the love of her life…until he broke her fucking heart.

  After their break up, Carrie Ann turned to charity work, directing her focus to the Have a Heart Foundation in honor of her mother. Fate interceded late one afternoon when she and her best friend, Shayla, were chilling out on the terrace of Shayla’s uncle, legendary actor Tommy Clemmins’ cliff side mansion. They were enjoying a bottle of wine, brainstorming new ways to bring awareness to the foundation, while watching the rare site of whales breaching off the Malibu coastline. After two glasses of cabernet, she became easily distracted by the surfers coming in from their afternoon set. Her binoculars
zoomed in on the towel-clad hard bodies as they undressed on the beach. Her feet were propped up on the wrought iron table waggling back and forth taking in the show when she scoffed sardonically, “Maybe I should just have some hotties pose naked for a calendar. That would raise money for the HAH Foundation.”

  “You definitely should,” Shayla joked with a clink of their wine glasses.

  “Seriously!” Carrie Ann nodded hotly, bolting to her feet, the wheels in her head spinning at full throttle. “I should create a calendar with LA’s finest eye candy.”

  “I’d buy it.”

  “Do you think Tommy would do it?”

  “You just ruined the yummy visual I had going.” Shayla cast a deplorable eye roll. Her uncle was voted sexiest man alive by People magazine. “You’re not really going to ask me to ask my uncle to strip naked for a calendar?”

  “No, of course not. I’ll ask him.”

  And just like that, the Have a Heart ~ Bare Your Soul campaign sprang to life. Ultimately, Tommy Clemmins turned down the offer to bare it all, but gladly offered a long list of people who would. What started as a calendar filled with celebrities posing nude, with the exception of a red heart shaped pillow covering their private parts, rapidly turned into a nationwide phenomenon.

  After a few years of very impressive, not to mention record breaking, source of revenue, the heart logo adorned everything from boxers to pro sport uniforms, including the recent addition of its very own brand of lingerie targeting women over the age of forty. The Bare Your Soul campaign sparked new life into the HAH Foundation, raising tens of millions of dollars and awareness for heart disease.

  Carrie Ann’s career flourished, shining brighter than she could’ve ever imagined in her wildest dreams. And so did Summer’s. Eight months after their breakup, while attending a New York fashion show with his then would-be girlfriend, Summer took to the catwalk on a dare. He half strutted, half staggered, down the runway in scant white briefs and a plush floor length white fur robe. Hitting home on all points, he carried a football in one hand and a rock glass in the other with the neck of a whiskey bottle protruding from his pocket.