Seducing Mr. Grumpy

6. Rain, a different kind of rain.

Summer Cooper’s message vault to Dominic Pauls:

Nic, Hallstatt is the most magical town I’ve ever been to. I wish I could bring Mom and Dad here—and you, too. The quiet ripples on the lake remind me of you. I wish you could see everything my eyes are seeing.

Lovingly,

A very happy Summer.

---

6. Rain, a different kind of rain.

Dominic.

"Straight home, sir?" Dallas asks as I slide into the car.

It’s nine in the evening—not too late—but right now, all I want is my bed.

"Yes, please."

The car purrs softly as it starts, and everything is absolute peace while Dallas drives us through London’s busy streets. It’s raining outside—not pouring, but steady. Still, the night isn’t too cold, not for this time of year.

I pull out my phone and look again at the photos my mother sent me today from her cruise. My parents look happy—and for their age, they still look good together. Right now, they’re in the Galápagos Islands, so it’s still daytime there. I’m tempted to video call them, but I don’t need another rant from my mom about eating and sleeping properly. Summer gives me enough of that.

"Sir?" Dallas calls out.

"Hmm?" I lift my eyes to meet his in the rearview mirror.

"Isn’t that Miss Summer?"

I frown and look where he’s pointing.

"Shit."

"It is her?"

"I’d bet anything it is." I reach for my jacket. "Pull over."

As soon as Dallas does, I open the door and step out, holding my jacket over my head. It’s almost useless—the rain comes with a breeze, so I end up soaked anyway.

"Summer!" I yell, quickening my pace toward where she’s standing—in the middle of the park, arms outstretched, face tilted to the sky like she’s offering herself up in some kind of ritual sacrifice.

"Summer!" I growl, irritated.

She turns toward me, wet hair slapping her face, and the joy in her expression is ridiculous. What the hell is she doing?

"Nic!"

"Are you drunk?" I keep shouting—the sound of the rain is deafening.

"Drunk?" Summer makes a gesture that might be cute if we weren’t in the middle of a park, soaking wet, with a high chance of getting f*****g hypothermia.

"Who am I kidding?" I growl again—that seems to be the only way I can speak when she’s around. "You’re perfectly capable of acting like this sober."

When I try to put my jacket over her shoulders, she leans back. The white cardigan she’s wearing dances with her, with her hair, with her musical laughter.

"Summer!"

I move toward her again, but she jumps back, laughing like this is some kind of game.

"Stop being such a damn child!"

"Stop being such a grump!"

"Sorry for not wanting us to get sick!"

"Then go home, I’ll be fine!"

She spins, arms open wide, face lifted to the sky. The moonlight highlights her features, making her look mystical… and completely out of her mind.

I drag a hand down my face, wiping away the water.

Fuck.

"Let’s go, Summer!"

She ignores me, spinning and spinning and spinning again, so I look down at her feet for the first time and there it is.

She’s barefoot.

Fuck.

I march straight toward her, crouch, press my shoulder into her stomach and lift her up, my hands gripping her thighs tightly. Jesus, I’m tempted to smack her ass—something completely irrational and nothing I’ve ever felt with anyone, not even in a s****l context. And God help me, there’s nothing s****l about this. Just an inhuman urge to knock some sense into her.

She laughs, letting out a cheerful little “put me down” that I ignore, until I trip over my own jacket and we crash to the ground. Summer lands on my chest while my back takes the full impact. Of course I end up soaked, the cold seeping straight to my bones. She looks at me with pure amusement, like this is the greatest adventure in the world.

I tilt my head back to the sky, not caring about the rain hitting my eyes.

“Oh God, give me strength.”

Summer at least has the decency to roll off me, settling at my side, also staring up at the sky, still smiling like a maniac.

“Are you out of your mind?” I ask her seriously.

“No,” she says, looking at me—her eyes bluer than ever, wide and round like glass marbles. “I was just trying to wash away the bad stuff clinging to me.”

Her words slam into my chest like a grenade, and I just stare at her, seeing the sadness behind her joy.

What the hell am I supposed to say to that?

“Did it work?”

“It’s not an easy road,” she says, eyes back on the sky, giving me a perfect view of her profile. “But I think I’m getting somewhere.”

I stay quiet, unable to look away. Suddenly I find myself wondering what else hides beneath all her layers. Summer is far more complex than I imagined, and I have no clue how to handle her—especially when she’s this unpredictable.

Summer Cooper is impossible to control. She exists beyond any logic I’ve ever known.

I slowly lick my lips, still wet from the rain, and gather the courage to ask the question that’s been haunting me since yesterday:

“Were you raped?”

I watch her carefully—I don’t want to miss a single flicker of emotion. I want the truth from her. What I’ll do with it? No idea. But right now, nothing else matters more than hearing her answer.

“He didn’t lay a single finger on me, if that’s what you mean.”

I suck in a breath, relieved, not even realizing I’d stopped breathing—until she adds:

“But there are other ways a woman can feel violated… so I guess the answer is yes.”

Silence settles in, and all that can be heard is the rain. Falling, falling, and falling... and still falling while I wrestle with a burning rage. No, not rage—fury. Because how can anyone do something like that to another person?

I look up at the sky, letting the rain wash me—wash away the fury and the hate—because I’m one second away from destroying something.

I don’t like Summer. s**t, I don’t even understand her. And while I don’t know the full extent of what she went through, I know this much: it doesn’t matter how big or small it was. She should never have felt violated. Not even for a second. Period.

Her laughter pulls me back to the moment, and when I blink the rain away, I find her turned toward me.

“Let it go, Nic,” she says, licking her lips and swallowing some raindrops. “He’s already in prison. He’s not worth it.”

How is she the one comforting me when it should be the other way around?

But there’s something lodged in my throat the size of the whole damn world, and I can’t get a single word out.

She laughs again, gets to her feet, and spins once more.

She spins and spins and spins.

The moon lights her up.

The rain kisses her skin.

And in the middle of all her madness… I start to admire her.

“Come with me!”

I shake my head, snapping out of whatever trance she’s put me in. I’m not joining her. And yet, I don’t move either. I just stay here, lying on the wet grass, soaked and senseless, watching her.

Nothing I’m doing makes sense. None of it feels like I’m in control. Clearly, she’s the one driving this entire scene.

When Summer finally tires of laughing at the moon and dancing in the rain, she returns to me, kneeling by my side, her knees brushing against my ribs.

“Tell me a truth, Nic.”

“What?”

I don’t get it.

“I told you a truth. It’s your turn to give me one of yours.”

I think about it, but nothing comes to mind.

“I don’t know. I suck at this stuff.”

Propping myself up on my elbows, I grab my jacket and drape it over her shoulders. By now, my white t-shirt is practically see-through, and Summer flashes a cheeky smile when she notices.

“Don’t start,” I warn her.

“But I didn’t say anything!”

“I can hear you thinking.”

She laughs again, snuggles into my jacket, and takes my hand when I offer it to help her up. Once we’re standing, I try to let go, but she grabs my hand with both of hers, her thumbs stroking my knuckles, her eyes shining brighter than ever.

“Then tell me one good thing that happened to you today.”

I try to think. Still nothing. Until I remember:

“I solved the marketing issue with the ad team.”

Summer’s smile turns into a hilariously exaggerated grimace, like my answer is an insult to humanity.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” I reply. “I’m very smart. Didn’t take me long to fix it. Now we’ll recover in one day what we lost all last week.”

“You’re as deep as a puddle.”

“What?”

“You’re hopeless, Dominic.”

She lets go of my hand, adjusts my jacket tighter around herself, and starts walking away, looking mock-offended.

I sigh, glancing up at the sky.

What did I do wrong now?

“Now give me your answer!” I shout, arms falling to my sides in tired frustration, droplets splashing from my soaked pants and shirt.

Summer stops at my words and spins around, her face lighting up. She walks the few steps back toward me, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“You really want to know?”

I couldn’t care less, I want to say. But what comes out is:

“Sure. Tell me one good thing that happened to you today.”

“Oh, there were a few. But mostly…” She giggles, does another little spin, then faces me again, holding my shoulders and saying without the slightest hesitation, “You.”

“What?”

“You,” she shouts louder as the rain falls harder. “You’re always the best part of my day, Dominic Pauls!”

My mouth opens, then closes. And when I can’t find a damn thing to say, she wrinkles her cute little button nose at me and gazes at me so sweetly it makes my chest ache.

“Come on, Nic. Let’s dry off. I don’t want to deal with your grumpiness if we get sick.”

Summer grabs my hand with both of hers again and pulls me toward the car.

As we walk toward where Dallas is waiting inside the warmth of the car, I glance back for a moment—the rain keeps falling, the moon keeps shining, the night keeps moving on… and yet, I know I’ll never look at the rain the same way again.