Free Falling for Summer by Bridget Essex Page A

breasts.  I smile shyly as I take the eggs from her, and then I'm inwardly cursing myself.  Shy?  Really ?  I'm never the shy one after sleeping with a woman, but there's something different about this morning, and there's something different about what we did last night. 
    Okay, so I have to be honest: there's something different about Summer .
    As I take the plate of eggs from her, I find myself smiling widely, my breath hitching in the back of my throat.  She turns back to the stove, lifting up her own plate of eggs.  I watch her rear, the graceful slant of her shoulders and neck and the braid of hair that slips over her arm...
    I think it's fairly safe to say that I've never met anyone like Summer, anyone who has captivated me so utterly, and in such a short time.  She's genuine, authentic...  Real is the only word I could possibly use to describe her.  Maybe that's because I've been living in New York for too long, or maybe I missed Lake George more than I realized, but there's something about this woman that has undone me...quite unexpectedly.
    Yes, there is a quiet strength about Summer that makes me, admittedly, weak in the knees, but it's much more than that.  She held me last night, held me and listened and then soothed away the pain I've borne for years.  Plus, there was the mind-blowing sex, the intense attraction we had for one another from the moment that we met... 
    There's something different, unique about Summer. 
    She hands me my plate of eggs and toast, her smile turning up at the corners of her full mouth and illuminating the room like sunshine itself.  My heart skips a beat...
    I'm falling for her.
    I've known her for less than twenty-four hours, and I'm falling for this woman who appeared out of the lake like a mermaid, her hair dripping in satin waves over her shoulder, her gorgeous smile lighting up my world.  To say that this isn't like me is the biggest understatement of the century.  I don't form attachments (I never form attachments), and I certainly don't form connections with the women I randomly sleep with...
    But it seems like none of that matters this time.
    Because Summer unlocked something inside of my heart, something that I'd carefully hidden away and kept safe.  The vulnerable part of myself that I never let out, my fragile heart that had broken, splintered the day my sister died, that I believed could never feel anything again. 
    Summer made me feel...
    She made me feel everything.
    And now I don't know what to do about that.
    “Thank you,” I manage to tell her, setting the plate on my lap as Summer returns from the stove with her own plastic plate of eggs and toast and sits down companionably beside me.  She draws her legs up under her and, lifting her fork in a graceful hand, begins to eat.
    “The roofer is coming first thing to fix the roof on your cabin,” she tells me with a rueful smile, shoveling eggs onto her piece of rye toast, then taking a big bite.  “I don't know what sort of plans you had today, but...but later, I thought it might be nice if we could go for a swim.”  She swallows her mouthful of eggs and toast, and then she holds my gaze with her warm brown eyes.  But there's something that flickers behind those eyes.  I'm not certain what it is, and I can't tell then because she's looking away from me, her gaze pointed at the floor as her jaw tightens.  “That is, if you want to,” she amends, voice soft.
    In that moment, I feel a strange coldness drift over my skin, making me shiver a little.  I feel like there's something she's not telling me, something she's keeping from me, but maybe...maybe I'm just imagining it.  I shift my shoulders a little, try to relax as I clear my throat. 
    “Yeah, that'd be great,” I tell her, taking a bite of the eggs.  God, they're delicious.  “I wanted to go into town to pick up some food, maybe a few more six packs,” I tell her, my mouth curving, “and then I think a swim would be just what