Sam and Evie - A Lost Highlander Novella

by Cassidy Cayman

  She looked so grateful, he was glad he hadn’t yelled or stormed out of the house. “He’s so overtired, it might take a bit to get him to settle,” she said, obviously glad to have dodged whatever bullet she thought was coming for her with her announcement.

  It was all he could do to keep smiling as he leaned over to kiss Mags before she took him to her room. After he shoved the lasagna in the oven, he sank into a chair and tried to stay calm. He thought he had more time. It was now or never.

  Chapter 8

  Why had she blurted it out like that? She could tell Sam was upset. He thought he was so good at hiding his feelings, but he was crap at it. He’d looked like he wanted to punch something. She’d meant to get the food on the table, maybe get a little wine in him, then ease into all the positive aspects of her taking a job so far away. Except she couldn’t think of anything that Sam would find positive in it, so she’d snapped and blurted it out. At least he was being outwardly calm and reasonable. She could still bring him around during the movie, dropping all the positive aspects here and there.

  “Oh, Mags, if only I could think of some,” she said.

  The poor little guy was so tired he cried inconsolably while she changed his diaper. If she hadn’t been so startled by the heartbroken look in Sam’s eyes, she would have been exasperated at him for letting Magnus miss his early nap. Now he would wake up at ten and keep her up until the middle of the night. She was so distraught, she’d probably be up anyway, may as well have company.

  When the baby was changed, she paced back and forth with him, singing quietly while she worried that Sam might be gearing up for a fight. He’d only been so agreeable because the news hadn’t really sunk in. Surely he didn’t want her to move away? Her stomach twisted and she didn’t want to leave the room, unable to bear the thought that Sam might cry. He was going to lose his son, after all.

  Stop, she thought, about to cry herself. She realized Magnus was asleep against her shoulder and she eased him into his crib, watching him breathe for a few minutes. Sam peeked his head in the door with a questioning look.

  “Almost,” she whispered and he slipped away without a word. A few more moments of deep breathing and patting Magnus and she deemed herself as ready as she would ever be.

  She slipped out of the room and carefully pulled the door shut, leaning against it with a sigh. Sam had waited for her in the hallway.

  “He’s finally asleep,” she said, all of a sudden noticing how close he was and the intent look on his face.

  His eyes captured hers and she found herself wanting to get lost in their green depths. As her heart started to beat faster she glanced nervously over his shoulder. Weren’t they going to watch a movie? And wasn’t he angry with her? He didn’t seem angry at the moment, quite the opposite, actually. His proximity overwhelmed her and her breath snagged in her throat. Her treacherous brain forced her to remember kissing him last night, and her wicked mouth wanted more. He was way too close but she was powerless to move away.

  He took a step closer and put his hand on the door next to her head. She could feel the heat radiating off him, warming her in the perpetually drafty hall. Unable to bear looking in his eyes anymore, she dropped her gaze, focusing on his t-shirt collar. It was a little bit frayed, he was always slightly rumpled, and she thought she could see the pulse beating in the side of his throat.

  Inexplicably, and insanely, she wanted to lean over and carefully take the edge of his shirt in her teeth, and pull it aside to expose his shoulder. She pressed her lips together hard, to keep from imagining the feel of his smooth skin against them. His arm tensed and she saw how the muscles all rippled in harmony, from the shoulder she wanted very much to lick, all the way down his arm, to the hand that was so close to her face that if she turned two inches, she knew he would slide his fingers into her hair and rub his thumb across her cheek.

  She needed to be responsible and reasonable, because he had obviously gone off the deep end. They weren’t together! She started to slowly slide down the door, hoping to stealthily ease out from under his arm and start the movie before he realized she was even gone.

  Then he’d come to his senses as well, and realize what a fool move he was making, getting so close to her while wearing a tight fitting shirt and smelling so good. Tentatively, she sniffed, hoping she was wrong and that he wouldn’t smell like soap and fresh laundry and firewood. Damn it! Her senses betrayed her. He smelled delicious.

  Before she could get all the way under his arm, he moved closer, putting his other hand on her hip and resting his forehead against the top of her head, his soft breath rustling her hair. They were almost, just barely touching. A deep breath would close the space between his hard chest and hers. His body was amazing, muscular and firm, and she still felt squishy and unsure of her post-baby figure. His strength was so comforting though, and she wanted to lean in and let him take over, just melt into him. Forget about moving and jobs and let him take care of her. The ache of longing that welled up within her now was better than the ache of missing him she carried with her all the time.

  “Sam,” she said, strangled and weak.

  She shrank back against the door, but his lips were on the side of her neck, under her jaw, just like he knew. Her body and heart warred with her brain, and even her brain was on the verge of taking the night off, so fed up with all the hard, lonely work it had been doing the past month, with absolutely no thanks.

  The hand that was on her hip pulled her roughly to him and she closed her eyes, letting the fireworks of pleasure that were exploding in her head take over as their bodies crashed together. Just for a minute, that was all. She could still come to her senses after letting him kiss her for a minute. He threaded his fingers into her hair and tugged her head back, kissing along the length of her exposed throat. She pressed her hands flat behind her against the door to keep from pulling up his shirt and running them over his skin— his warm, smooth skin. God, she wanted to do that. Feel his hard stomach contract as she raked her fingers over his abs, then slide them lower, making him shiver.

  To hell with being responsible. She wanted him so badly she was practically panting. She didn’t want to cower against the door, trying not to enjoy his incredible mouth and powerful hands. With a sigh of pent up longing she got her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and tugged, her knuckles rubbing against his burning hot skin before she she splayed her fingers wide, unable to get enough of him. She felt him smile against her neck as he pressed her more fully against the door.

  “I want you so much, Ev,” he said near her ear.

  The sweet nickname she never got to hear anymore went right through her and she turned her face so she could kiss him properly. He was all too ready to oblige and when his firm lips touched hers and his tongue flicked against her teeth, it was lights out for her sanity. She simply didn’t care at all about anything other than either getting to the couch or Sam’s bedroom as quickly as possible.

  With shaking hands she gripped his waist and pushed him backwards. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet, never breaking their kiss, as he walked them slowly down the hall. She coiled her legs around him and tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling his face closer to hers. This was all she wanted. Things were so muddled when Sam wasn’t touching her, but now that he was, it was all so clear, like the chime of a bell.

  She heard the chime again. His hands stilled on her back and he lifted his head. He heard it too. The damn doorbell. Someone was at the door, which meant one or both of them was going to be forced to think. Evelyn couldn’t have that. She didn’t want to leave the bubble they were in and be faced with the confusion and difficult conversations that were rudely waiting outside of it. Desperately, she pulled his head back down.

  “Yes, let’s ignore it,” he said as he began kissing her again.

  She murmured her assent into his mouth, letting all the shimmery good feelings wash over her until the doorbell rang again and she started to worry it might be
important.

  “It’s nothing,” he said, slipping his hands under her shirt.

  He was probably right. As his fingers brushed against the sides of her breasts she was positive he was right.

  “Sammy? I see the car. Where are you?” hollered the person outside, then commenced pounding on the door. Sam froze.

  “Is that your mother?” Evelyn asked as a series of comically horrified realizations crossed Sam’s face.

  He dropped her, keeping one hand on her waist, and swallowed hard. He looked ill. “No,” he said. “Christ, no. I can’t have forgotten. What day is it?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, it was clear he knew. He looked down at her, positively green. “You’re going to kill me.”

  “No, I’m not,” she said, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. “Are your parents back in town for a visit?”

  Genevieve and Graham Maclean were retired and had been traveling all over the world the last several years. They hadn’t seen Magnus since he was first born. Sam must have forgotten to tell her they’d be dropping by.

  She waved her hands in front of her face to cool herself off. It was a jolt, a real disappointment actually, to be torn away from near bliss, but his mom had probably saved her from making a grave mistake. In fact, the more her brain began to properly work again, the more relieved she felt for the interruption.

  Sam kept his death grip on her side. “Yes you are,” he said. “It’s not just my parents, it’s all of them. My brother, sister, Donald.” He wiped his brow, looking sicker by the minute. “We’re supposed to have a big dinner here tonight. Tomorrow’s Magnus’s christening.”

  Her damage assessment meter kicked on. The house wasn’t a complete disaster since she’d had the whole afternoon to tidy up a bit, but all her work papers were still spread out on the dining table and most importantly, there was no dinner. And since when was Magnus being christened? Had Sam forgotten to invite her to something so important? She didn’t know where to begin. Yes, she was going to kill him. Painfully.

  “What in the hell?” It was all she could manage. “They’re all coming over tonight? And Magnus is supposed to be christened tomorrow? That might have been helpful for me to know.”

  She ground her teeth together to keep from calling him a rude name. His mother was still yelling at the front door. Tossing him the filthiest look she could muster, she stalked off to let her in, hoping to be able to fake her way through the rest of the evening.

  Sam grabbed her wrist and she nearly tore her shoulder out of its socket in her haste to get away from him. She didn’t think he could look worse than he did, but he was pale and waxy and looked like he might throw up.

  “What?” she hissed, her arm outstretched.

  He dropped her wrist. “They don’t know you left,” he said miserably. “They think we’re still together.”

  Her mouth fell open and she firmly shut it again. Shaking her head, she went to open the door. Genevieve Maclean wrapped her in a hearty hug, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a shopping bag full of photo albums in the other. Maybe she could make a salad out of the flowers, Evelyn thought morosely.

  Sam, the worthless coward, was nowhere in sight. He was probably trying to find a respectable shirt to put on.

  “Where are my lads?” she asked, her face as bright and happy as her bouquet.

  “One’s asleep and one’s hiding,” Evelyn said sourly. “Are you early?” she asked, peering behind her to the front yard. If they were all here, she was doomed.

  “Aye, wanted to help out a bit if I could,” she said.

  She bustled past Evelyn to the kitchen, where she promptly opened the oven door, her eyes widening at the sight.

  The lasagna had been meant for two people, so it was woefully small, and on top of that, it had been abandoned in the oven during their hallway makeout session, so its edges were burnt black. Evelyn started to cry.

  “Oh dear,” she said, rushing to pat Evelyn on the back. “Did you forget about us coming tonight? Don’t you worry about this. It’s perfectly normal. Having a new baby is hectic, to say the least.”

  “I didn’t forget,” she sobbed. “Your son never told me!” She spit out the word son with enough venom as if it was a curse word.

  Genevieve made a sound like she was trying not to laugh and quickly took over. “He’s always been that way. He means well, the poor lad,” she said, opening the fridge to see what was available, then slamming it shut with a resolute sigh. “It’s a good thing I came early. I’ll just pop round to the shops and get some ready made food and be back in a trice. Martin arrived earlier at Inverness and he was meeting up with Angie and Donald, so we’ve plenty of time.” She glanced at her watch and frowned, clearly lying about all the time they had, which only made Evelyn feel worse.

  “He never told me about the christening either,” she wailed. “I know Mags is supposed to wear something special for it, and he doesn’t have anything.”

  Even though she wasn’t Catholic and didn’t have the first clue what was going on, she didn’t want her baby to look stupid for something that was important to that entire side of the family. It all reflected poorly on her, as if she didn’t take it seriously.

  “Look in the bag I brought,” Genevieve said, clearly eager for her to see what was in there. “Did you two at least pick out godparents?”

  “Yes, he’s got dozens of those.” Evelyn dug through the bag to find a flat box under all the old photo albums. When she opened it up and pushed aside the faded tissue, she gasped to see an intricately embroidered white gown. For whatever reason, it just made her cry harder. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Was it Sam’s?”

  Genevieve nodded. “Shall I take the baby with me, to give you a chance to clean up?”

  Evelyn winced. Apparently the house wasn’t as tidy as she thought, or maybe Genevieve meant clean herself up. Either way, it stung, but overall she was being pretty kind and supportive. “He’s napping. I’ll get him up when everyone’s here. I really appreciate your help.”

  “Don’t be daft,” she said briskly. “Sam’s father is exactly the same. We have to stick together when we’re in love with these poor gomerils.”

  Evelyn’s lip quivered at that and Genevieve hurried off to salvage the evening. Sam stuck his head out as she was leaving, which earned him a swat with her leather clutch purse. He slunk into the kitchen rubbing the side of his head, one hand out placatingly.

  Evelyn felt exhausted and couldn’t believe they’d been all over each other ten minutes ago. What she wouldn’t give for some of Piper’s time travel magic right now. He smiled at her, a mix of apology and hopefulness. He better be hoping she didn’t kick him.

  She should have breezed haughtily past him, but continued to sit and stare at her papers. She began to push them into one pile she could easily hide before the rest of Sam’s family arrived. Some perverse part of her waited to see what he had to say for himself and her hands curled angrily, crumpling a sheet of paper. Looking down, she saw that it was a budget she’d started. How much money she would have to make to be able to support herself and Mags in the big city.

  As if he had no conscience whatsoever, he ran his hand up her arm and got in her space, towering over her and trying to get her to look at him. Did he think they would go back to the way they’d been in the hall? She’d been temporarily insane. She jerked free, clutching her papers to her chest like a shield.

  “I have to get ready for dinner with your family,” she said. “You might straighten up the living room.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair and gave her a wide eyed look. “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you about the christening. I guess I thought Piper would.”

  “Oh, good. At least Piper knows. I guess my parents didn’t need to be invited.”

  “Jesus, Evelyn. They aren’t even Catholic,” he said, his temper riled.

  She was glad to see he was no longer contrite, no longer concerned with getting back in her good graces. She turned arou
nd and planted her hands on her hips, her skin prickling. “It’s still a milestone in their grandson’s life. I’m sure they would have wanted to come. But they might have given away the fact that we aren’t together anymore. How would that have looked?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “About that ...”

  “Yeah, what about that?” she interrupted. “Why on earth would you let them think we were still together?”

  He crumpled. “Because in the beginning I thought you were just overwhelmed or depressed or something. I thought we’d be back on after a week or two.” He held up his hands and looked desolate. “I hoped we would. I don’t even bloody know why you left.”

  She was astounded. Her reasons were so crystal clear to her, she couldn’t possibly believe he was confused. Finally, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously, certain it was a ploy for pity.

  He let his head fall forward, chin to chest and breathed out laboriously. “I get that things were crap right after Mags was born, but we were both so tired. I tried to help as much as I could.”

  Dear lord, it seemed he really didn’t know. She shook her head slowly, not sure she could explain it after so much time had gone by.

  “Please, Evelyn,” he said. “Just tell me why you left.”

  Swallowing hard, she backed away a few steps. “It - it was because I didn’t think I could trust you.”

  It was Sam’s turn to be astounded at her confession. He blinked at her, gaping, before he slammed his palm on the counter. “Couldn’t trust me?” He looked around the room for answers, his eyes settling on the grocery bag of photo albums his mother left. “Is this about Padma?” he asked. He rummaged through the albums, opening one to a picture of a darling chubby baby who looked exactly like Magnus, sitting in a bouncy seat next to an unfortunate, boiled potato of an infant. He stabbed the picture with his index finger.