Amazing how, from him, she felt this way, and yet the cute delivery guy had inspired nothing but dread in her.
“What’s wrong?” he snapped, seeming to misread her silence.
She licked her lips. “Nothing’s wrong.” Her voice hitched, and she whispered, “You’re coming around tonight, aren’t you?”
“Need my help with something?” he asked, sounding amused.
“A little ache here and there,” she retorted, turning waspish at his amusement.
“Ben, I just need five minutes, can you shut the door on your way out?” he declared, his tone strident as he spoke to someone who was obviously in the office with him.
Samantha’s lips curved. “You’re so rude sometimes.”
“I’m the boss. I don’t have to be polite,” he said, satisfaction lacing his tone. “Anyway, what kind of aches are we talking about? I’m not sure I like the sound of you aching, especially when I’m here to help with things like that.”
“I have one, right between my thighs. I have no idea where it came from.”
He laughed, then his voice turned husky as he murmured, “I wish you were here. But yes, I’ll be there tonight. Did the TV arrive?”
She grunted. “Yeah. It did. Thanks for asking if I wanted a monster in my living room.”
“Can’t watch a movie with that tiny little thing you had before,” he said, his tone reasonable even as she knew she was losing his attention—she heard the clacking of the keyboard as he worked on his laptop, then papers shuffling.
It didn’t bother her that he was distracted because she’d called him in the middle of the morning when he was at work, so couldn’t expect to hold his full focus, regardless of that, she murmured, “Well, I’ll have to make sure there’s something worth watching tonight then, won’t I?”
The faint scratching of his pen in the background disappeared. “What kind of something?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think of something.” She grinned at the repetition. “What time will you be coming?”
He cleared his throat, apparently understanding her double entendre. “Around six?”
“Erin will be awake at that time,” she cautioned, tone turning serious.
“I know. The TV’s for him too. There should be some DVDs with the package. I thought we could watch something with him first.”
Her heart, already in knots thanks to this man, just melted at his inclusion of her son.
“Oh, Josh, thank you.” Her voice was thick and warm like honey, she knew, simply because he hadn’t forgotten Erin.
“What for?”
“The DVDs.”
He snorted. “You’re thanking me for the DVDs but not the TV?”
“Well, I’m grateful but it was unnecessary.”
A laugh came down the line, and she loved that she could make him chuckle when he was at work. When his mind was going in a million different directions, when the world of finance and only who knew what else was his priority…
He could be so somber and serious sometimes. She wanted to be the softness to brighten his days. Samantha wasn’t sure if she could be that, but it didn’t stop her from wanting it.
The sound of a knock at the door in the background had her tensing. “It’s okay,” she said quickly, preempting him before he could apologize. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Good. Until later.” She heard him inhale, then he whispered, “Bye, love.”
Love.
What that one term of endearment could do to her.
She bit her lip to hide the wide grin that longed to make her mouth curve. Then, Erin let out a squeal, and laughing, she went to find out what had excited him so.
***
Hours later, after she’d placed the dough for the homemade pizzas in the oven that would be perfect for movie night, she watched as Erin showed Josh the many features of the new gadget in their midst. Somehow, he’d managed to learn what all the buttons meant—what was it with kids? He was so young too, and yet, he could already navigate her smartphone better than she could.
She’d already had to install a child lock, dammit.
But thoughts of Erin’s smarts disappeared as she watched Josh with Erin. He was so patient, she thought, her mind quite dreamy as she watched him listen, head cocked, interest unfeigned as he gave her child his attention.
She didn’t think Jamie had ever listened or interacted with their son for as long as Josh had. When Erin had been a baby, neither man had done much more than smile, wiggle one of Erin’s hands, and in Jamie’s case, pass the baby over if he’d soiled himself.
This was probably the first chunk of attention Erin had ever had from a man.
She couldn’t stop the tears that prickled her eyes as the scents of oregano and baking dough permeated the kitchen and trailed out into the hallway.
Touched, but feeling silly because of the tears, she chuckled softly at herself and retreated to the kitchen. She hadn’t meant to watch the boys together, hadn’t wanted it to feel like she was supervising, but having heard their laughs merging, loud enough for her to overhear, she’d wanted to see them. Wanted to see it for herself.
And what a sight.
Her beautiful boy, so bright and sunny, giggling away as the handsome brute at his side listened intently, not seeming to care that every other word Erin uttered was more of a babble than anything else.
Pulling out the pizzas now they were ready, she dished them out, cut them into slices, and after switching off the stove, grabbed the plates and headed out of the kitchen.
When Josh saw her, he leaped to his feet, but she waved him off by wiggling the plates. “Don’t worry, I’ve got them.” With a ‘ta-da’, she placed them on the coffee table which was set with beakers of soda and water for them all.
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble. I could have ordere—”
“Why order in when I get a kick out of making it myself?” she asked primly, and took a seat opposite him, on the floor, crossing her legs lotus-style.
He cocked a brow at her. “How come I get the couch?”
“Age before beauty,” she told him, tongue in cheek, laughing when his eyes flared then swiftly narrowed.
“Cheeky minx,” he retorted, then eying the pizza asked, “Which is mine?”
She shrugged. “Have whichever you want. We share, don’t we, baby?” she asked her little man who was kneeling at her side, peering at the pizzas like he wanted to dive into them headfirst.
She grabbed a slice of margherita, knowing that he wouldn’t eat the other pieces. It was why she’d done a full margarita and two halves on the other—one of pepperoni and the other of mushroom.
The slices on the plain pizza were small, kid-sized, and when Erin got his hands on one, he made a dramatic humming sound of pleasure.
“Hot, hot, hot,” he cackled after, blowing out a deep breath then wiggling his fingers in front of his mouth.
“They’re fresh from the oven, silly,” she teased, reaching for a slice of mushroom. When she took a bite, Sam noticed Josh hadn’t, that he was staring at the two of them in a way she couldn’t read.
He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his shoulders crouched forward as he watched them, but she didn’t feel uneasy. The small smile gracing his lips was difficult to read but that didn’t stop her from discerning that he was content with the moment.
Maybe he was asking himself how it had come to pass that, on a Thursday evening, he was eating pizza with a preschooler and his best friend’s widow, but the smile confirmed he didn’t want to be anywhere else. Relief and happiness settled in her heart. Even though she was uncertain about the future, she wanted Josh. It was an unusual truth, but she refused to lie to herself.
There would be no gain to her not being honest about her feelings for Josh, because the sentiments he inspired in her were worthy of note. She’d never experienced them before, and knew that even as he excited her and made her smile, he also made her feel safe.
She tried to focus on her food, but it didn’t work. Instead, she asked Erin about the movies Josh had bought, “Have you picked what we’re watching yet?”
When he said Finding Nemo, she moaned. “Not again.”
“How many times has he watched it?” Josh asked, finally picking up a slice of pizza—pepperoni; she’d remembered that was his topping of choice from the many times Jamie had ordered in when a game had been on.
“About a million.”
Erin giggled. “Don’t be silly, mommy.” His grin was beaming. “At least ten million, Uncle Josh.”
Uncle Josh snorted. “Then, we just have to make it ten million and one.” His lips screwed in a smile. “I haven’t seen it once, so this is going to be an education for me.”
She snorted. “I wish I hadn’t seen it.”
Erin gasped and gaped at them both. “Mommy, you wish you hadn’t seen Finding Nemo?”
Because it was his favorite, she wrinkled her nose and lied, “Only because I wish I could watch it all over again for the first time.”
Josh’s nostrils flared and he ducked his head to hide a smile. A few seconds later, when Erin, beaming now, began to recount the story to them—inadvertently giving away every single good bit of the plot—Josh caught her eye.
The two of them smiled at each other, but it was the silent communication that passed between them that stunned her.
She’d seen it on TV and in movies. Women who could speak with their partners with merely a blink, an entire conversation passing, discussions and arguments occurring without even a word uttered…
She’d never seen that with her parents who barely tolerated one another. And with Jamie? She’d rarely looked him in the eye, too scared of the repercussions.
Frank and Janice weren’t like that either. Oh, Janice wasn’t too scared to look at Frank. No, she was the kind who would scream down the house. If anything, in that relationship, she could easily imagine Janice tossing something at Frank if he pissed her off in the depths of an argument.
But this? It was the most beautifully intimate moment she’d ever had with someone else, and it made her breath catch.
It gave her, she realized, hope.
Erin jerked her arm, jolting her from the moment, but she didn’t mind. Though it felt like she’d had an epiphany, a truly groundbreaking moment where the world suddenly made complete and utter sense where it hadn’t before, she turned her attention to her son and to her lover.
Tonight, she didn’t want it to be anywhere else. Not in the past or the future, just the present, because from where she was seated, the present was exactly how she wanted it to be.
It couldn’t have been any more perfect.
Chapter 17
Josh
Cocking a brow at Samantha, he watched her study the red bell peppers like it was a calculus textbook. Josh was sure he’d seen people taking their Finals focus less on their papers than she was on the produce in her hands.
“What are you doing?” he asked her quietly.
“Getting the good ones.” She spoke so absentmindedly that he couldn’t help but be amused.
“They all look good to me.”
“Ah, but I want perfection,” she teased.
Having seen her inspect the tomatoes, lettuce, and watermelon in the same way, he could attest to her high standards.
Clucking his tongue as he leaned against the cart, he asked himself what the hell he was doing in a grocery store.
Normally, Josh paid people to come to places like this for him, but, for whatever reason, Samantha had insisted.
He wasn’t sure why she’d wanted him to come along, but he found himself in the unmistakable position of wanting to please her, so even though it bewildered him to be here, he was in the store nonetheless.
What did surprise him was that he wasn’t bored, if anything, he was just perplexed.
“Why did you want to come here with me?” he asked her quietly, head tilting to the side as she tapped another melon—a cantaloupe this time.
He wrinkled his nose at the sight and she cocked a brow at him, her gaze catching his expression. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate cantaloupe.”
She grinned. “Then, I won’t buy one. You only had to say.”
He snorted. “If only life were as simple as that.”
“It can be. When you’re a billionaire.” She winked. “I thought it would be good for you to come here.”
“Good for me?” he repeated. “Why would it be good for me?”
“Keep you grounded,” she told him, definitely tongue-in-cheek as she gathered some apples into a brown paper bag.
“Who said I wanted to be grounded?”
“I did.”
Despite himself, he had to laugh. “Already trying to change me, woman.”
She winked. “No. Keeping you perfect that’s all.”
He snorted again. “The last thing I am is perfect.”
She cocked a shoulder. “Maybe not to everyone’s tastes, but you are to me.”
That had him blinking, touched despite himself. “That’s probably the sweetest thing a woman has ever said to me.”
It was her turn for her nose to crinkle. “Because ‘sweet’ is exactly how I want you to think of me.”
He reached over and caught her hand. “It’s exactly how I think of you. As well as a million other ways.”
That had her peeping a glimpse at him through her lashes. “Oh? How?”
“I think of you as a minx, as a tease, and as a joker.”
Her breath caught, and she slowly licked her lips. His eyes were glued to her tongue, and for a second, his heart stopped, his brain unable to focus on anything else, not even breathing, as he watched the passage of her tongue around the decadent curve of her mouth.
Then, she shattered his calm by whispering, “What about as a victim?”
“Huh?” he asked, blinking and utterly taken aback by her question.
She shrugged. “Do you think of me as a victim?”
He scowled, sensing the depths that question plunged to. That bastard best friend of his. “No,” he said gruffly. “The last thing you are, Samantha, is a victim. You’re a fighter.”
She bit her lip. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“I’d most likely still be with Jamie if he were alive. That doesn’t make me a fighter. It doesn’t even make me a victim. It just makes me stupid.”
He shook his head. “No, it doesn’t.”
Her jaw clenched. “I was thinking about it the other night. It does.”
“Why were you thinking about him?” Even though it was ridiculous, he found that he felt jealous.
Not of Jamie, but that her thoughts were of the bastard when Josh didn’t want any part of her focused on that hideous past. And he hated himself for feeling that way because the last thing she could control were her thoughts and feelings. As if things weren’t tough enough for Samantha, the last thing he needed was for her to fear talking about that once best friend.
Before she could answer, he reached for her hand. It amazed him that she’d raised this topic over cantaloupes and other fresh produce, when they could have easily discussed it back at her house.
Women, he thought amusedly, could pick the damnedest places to talk about the important stuff.
“Don’t answer that. I have no right to ask.”
Her voice was husky as she said, “Of course you do. You’re important to me, Josh. If anyone can ask me something, even if it’s painful, it’s you.”
He blinked at that, taken aback, but he shook his head. “Maybe, but I have no right to make you feel badly about thinking over what Jamie was like.” He cleared his throat. “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here for you.” He didn’t tell her that sometimes, on the occasions when he’d slept over, he heard her whimper in her sleep and his mind always traversed to a dark place. A place where he wondered if she was dreaming about Jamie.
Did she have nightm
ares about him, he asked himself? Did she remember the dark days when her husband had abused her? And did they haunt her sleep?
She peeped at him again, tugging a lock of hair behind her ear. It astonished him how she could look so beautiful to him with such lack of artifice.
She wore simple cut-offs, a white T-shirt, and her hair was half-up and half-down in a topknot. That was it. A bit of gloss on her lips, and he thought he saw a faint darkening of mascara on her lashes, nothing more, nothing less. Yet Josh wasn’t sure if he’d seen a more beautiful woman all day. More like, all week.
She had him in knots, he knew, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset by that. Maybe she was meant to, he was starting to believe.
“I don’t want to think about him at all, but then…”
When she broke off, he cupped her cheek. As his thumb swept over the curve of her chin, she sighed and tilted her head, letting him take the weight. “Then, what?”
“Then Erin will do something that reminds me of him and I can’t stop myself,” she blurted out in a rush. Then, her hand came up and she clapped it over her mouth. “I shouldn’t say this to you. I don’t want you to think…”
“Stop worrying about what I think. My thoughts are my own.”
“Yeah, because you really want to be dating someone who’s fixated on another man.”
Samantha’s bitter tones hurt him. “Stop it,” he chided her. “I’m well aware of what Jamie did, and maybe I’d be jealous if you were thinking about sex or even if you were missing him, I guess. And that makes me sound like a horrendous person because if he’d been a good husband, you would be well within your rights to miss him if he’d passed on, even if you were dating someone else. Grief doesn’t have an expiration date.”
“But that’s it, Josh. I’m glad he’s dead,” she whispered. “I’m glad, so glad, and I hate myself for that. How can I be happy when he was Erin’s father?”
“Because he was a terrible father and a terrible husband,” Josh countered. “You didn’t make him take drugs, did you?”
“No, but he said I drove him to it sometimes.” She gnawed at her bottom lip. “But I didn’t. I tried to be a good wife, only, nothing I did was ever good enough for him.”
Believing Her: An Enemies to Lovers Fake Fiancé Romance Page 14
