She was quiet, watching me with those eyes that still captivated me and I knew they always would.
“Me too,” she said.
Two words. Barely audible but I heard them and they had a power over me I couldn’t quite explain. I felt the full force of what I had walked away from four years ago. I told myself she was fine. We would never last. But looking at her now, I knew it was never going to be one of those things that was fine. She was looking out at the water now. I had brought up the past, which was reopening a wound that never quite healed. But if I wanted anything with her, it had to be said. I had to clear the air.
“Summer.” I waited until she looked at me. “I owe you a real apology. More than one, probably. But tonight I want to start with the most recent thing I’ve done to earn your contempt and distrust.”
She tilted her head slightly. Listening. Waiting.
“When I came into this project with Judd and the other investors, the board had been searching for a location for almost eight months. We had a list of criteria. Deep water access. Existing infrastructure we could build on. A coastal community that wasn’t already saturated with what we were offering.” I paused. “When Surfside came up, I was the one who pushed for it. I knew this place. I knew the coastline and the general area better than anyone else in that room because I’d spent summers here my whole life.”
She was watching me with her irritation growing. My apology was starting to sound like a speech. The same one Judd had delivered. That earned him a tomato to the head.
“I sat in that boardroom and I made the case for this town,” I went on. “I want to be honest with you about what I was thinking when I did it. I saw profit margins. I saw projections. I saw a revenue model that worked because Surfside was still small enough that the infrastructure costs would be manageable and the land values hadn’t peaked yet.” I met her eyes. “I saw dollar signs, Summer. That’s the truth of it. I wasn’t thinking about the people who live here. I wasn’t thinking about what it wouldactually cost. I was running numbers and I got excited the way I always get excited when a deal lines up. It’s what I do. I make people money. I make my family money.”
“Congratulations on being rich,” she said through clenched teeth.
I was bombing my apology tour.
“I never stopped for a second to consider that growth is too high a cost for a paradise as protected as Surfside,” I said.
Her head tilted, her irritation lessening just a bit. “What?”
I saw her body relax and got a glimpse of the Summer I knew from so many years ago. The woman who was perfectly content to eat a meat and cheese sandwich on the beach while watching the sunset. She never needed much—just her beach. And I threatened to take it away.
“I understand the true cost,” I said. “It’s too steep.”
“Took you long enough,” she whispered as her eyes sparkled with tears.
I wanted to grab her across the table and pull her into my lap. I was desperate to have my mouth on hers. Instead, I took a sip of the wine. I wasn’t about to cross any more lines. I had to do this right.
“I promise I will never try to destroy your home again,” I said.
“What about your partner?” she asked. “I’m guessing he’s not going to pack up and go back to whatever penthouse he crawled out of.”
“I’m working on it,” I told her. “No promises, but I’m going to fix this.”
“Can you?” she asked.
“I’m pretty sure I can,” I said with a cocky grin. “I’ve got some pull in this world.”
She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her wine. “Big talker.”
“I’m sorry, Summer. Truly. Thank you for making me hear you. I feel like an ass for not paying closer attention. It shouldn’t have gotten this far. I’m sorry.”
“I guess we’ll have to see how sorry you are,” she said softly. “Because sorry doesn’t mean much if we lose everything.”
CHAPTER 23
SUMMER
My heart hadn’t stopped racing since I pulled that dress out of the box. I could still feel the ghost of the satin ribbon between my fingers. The anticipation of not knowing what was inside. Seeing the dress had made my heart skip several beats, but that was nothing compared to this.
Colt just told me he was wrong. Not in the half-hearted, covering-his-bases way men apologized when they wanted something from you. He told me the truth about what he’d been thinking. He didn’t try to excuse what he did or try to make me understand his angle. He owned it. That was sexy. That was mature. I was so sick of immature boys.
The waitress came to take our orders. I could barely think straight. I thought about getting the lobster but I was not going to risk getting butter splatters on the dress. I was a nervous wreck just sitting in the damn thing.
“Are you okay?” Colt asked after the waitress left.
