by Cathryn Fox
“Oh, my God, you’re wearing jeans! Worn one’s too. Or did you buy them worn?”
“Buy them worn?” Adam looked over his shoulder at her and made a face. “I told you, most of the time, I work outside and…hey, are you looking at my –”
“Booty! She’s looking at your booty,” Mimi giggled slapping his back and everyone started laughing.
Samantha shifted Marc in her arms and shook her head, finding it difficult to believe that Adam Rourke was four steps ahead of her and intended to come apple picking. She had a feeling her employer was behind all this. Still, the man could have said no!
She bounced Marc onto the double bed in Lucy’s old room. Mimi, proclaiming she could dress herself, scurried off to the bathroom for privacy.
Adam leaned lazily against the dresser, watching Samantha help the chubby little boy switch out pajamas for jeans and a long sleeve shirt. “I thought you’d be spending the day with the Judge at the country club.”
“Did that yesterday. We came in third in the golf tournament,” Adam replied smoothly.
“Are you really coming with us this morning?”
“Most definitely,” came the quick response, and then his brows pulled together. “Hmmm…Mimi told me to ask about a Halloween tattoo.”
Samantha rubbed her forehead, trying to maintain a serious expression. “Marc, do you have any in your pocket?” She looked up from helping him with socks and sneakers.
“Yes,” he pulled one from his jeans, and looked at Adam. “Make a muscle.”
She swallowed a laugh at the tiny voiced order and then nearly choked when Adam pushed up the sleeve on his navy rugby shirt. “Very impressive, Mr. Rourke.” She peeled off the skull and cross-bones that Marc handed her and pressed it onto Adam’s bicep. Samantha leaned back and nudged Marc. “What do you think?”
Marc pushed up his own sleeve and compared his tiny bicep next to Adam’s. “Good,” he nodded. “Show him your’s, Sammy.” He grabbed at her nightshirt and pushed up the sleeve, then moved her arm next to Adam’s. “Good,” Marc repeated, “now we all match.”
Adam leaned over, his mouth next to Samantha’s ear. “Very impressive muscle, Miss Logan.” He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her earlobe. When she turned toward him, his lips skittered along her jaw, and were just inches from her mouth, when Marc bounced down on the mattress. He scampered off the bed just as his sister came skipping out of the bathroom in jeans and a pink sweater. “I’m all washed, brushed, and dressed,” she proclaimed. “Are we going yet, Sam?”
“Just give me five minutes to get dressed and we’ll go,” Samantha smiled at her.
“Can I be of any help?”
Samantha gave an exasperated sigh at his tone and then said sweetly, “As a matter of fact, you can take the ‘dynamic duo’ downstairs and install their booster seats in your convertible.”
Adam tucked a child under each arm and, amid delighted squeals and laughter, headed down the stairs.
Samantha thoughtfully watched them, before heading into the bathroom. Adam didn’t seem to be the same cynical man she had first been introduced to on Friday, she mused pensively, squeezing toothpaste onto her brush. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection in the mirror, almost choking with laughter at the mad-dog image the frothing toothpaste gave her.
Samantha slid into a pair of slim black jeans and a red Henley. She caught the sides of her thick hair back with combs, letting a few blond tendrils escape to soften the effect. She quickly applied a light dusting of makeup and then headed downstairs, where she found Adam lying on the floor helping Marc and Mimi build a fantastic creation out of plastic blocks.
“All set,” Samantha called and received a chorus of hoorays from the excited children and an approving glance from Adam. “Did the car seats fit okay?”
“No problem but they want the top down.”
“Pleeese, Sam, pleeese.” Mimi begged.
“No, absolutely not, your mother would kill me if you two got earaches or colds.” She shook her head firmly. “I’m ignoring that scrunched up, nasty face,” her finger sculpted Mimi’s turned up nose, then she pulled open the front door and shooed everyone outside.
“Come on, princess,” Adam told the little girl, after he tossed a bushel basket into the car’s trunk. “You’ll get a fabulous view sitting behind me.” He carefully belted her in while Samantha secured Marc into his protective booster.
Samantha gave Adam directions to the orchard, which was located just outside the historic city of Saratoga. To stop the children from whining over the fact there was no DVD player like their van had, she proposed playing a few car travel games. After counting red cars, boat trailers, and tanker trucks, they settled into looking for historical site markers that started to appear along the highway.
“I love reading the site markers. My dad always took Lucy and me on what he called our Sunday history lessons. We’d spend the entire day going from one Revolutionary War battlefield to another. Then to the smaller museums and the historic cemeteries. One Halloween we did the ‘Spooks of the Hudson Valley’ tour and…”
“What’s the matter, why did you stop?” Adam slanted a quick glance at her.
She gave a self-conscious laugh. “I just realized I sounded like the Department of Commerce.”
“That’s all right. I like it,” he told her. “In a few years, I hope to bring some of my thoroughbreds up for the yearling sales at Saratoga.”
“Right and you’re even wearing your gentleman farmer jeans,” Samantha grinned when he shook a playful fist at her. “How big is your place?”
“Five hundred acres of the most beautiful rolling hills and grassy meadows Virginia has to offer,” Adam told her with obvious pride. He pulled his phone free of its belt case and passed it to her. “Just hit that horsehead app and scroll. I’ve got an excellent manager who knows breeding stock. There’s some photos of two foals that show promise.”
Samantha sifted through the photos. “Oh, they are a sturdy pair. I love the chestnut foal. Nice shots of the barn, oh, and your house…yikes, it’s huge. And that wrap around porch, very southern. Love those rocking chairs and oh, that glider…haven’t seen one of those in years.”
“I have breakfast out there every morning and watch the sun rise over the pasture and the horses kicking up their heels.”
“That sounds very relaxing, look kids.” Twisting around in the bucket seat, she showed off the horse photos. “Do the foals have names? Mimi wants My Little Pony.”
“Not yet and certainly not that. Maybe you can help me with a few names,” came his easy rejoinder. He turned the car into the designated orchard parking area.
“I suppose Trigger and Flicka are off the list.” She tried to keep her tone light and even as they left the car.
“There seems to be quite a few people with the same idea,” Adam remarked as they wandered through the rows of trees burgeoning with ripe fruit. They found a small group of trees that had yet to be discovered by the other pickers and set about filling the bushel basket full of McIntosh and Red Delicious apples.
“Sam?” Marc called. “How many can we eat?”
She laughed and ruffled his blond curls. “Just one or you won’t eat any lunch. Now listen everybody, make sure you pick nice, unbruised apples. Not the ones on the ground,” she directed.
“How do you propose we do that?” Adam inquired.
“Put Mimi up on the lower branches of the tree and have her toss down the apples,” she told him.
“What about all the signs that say don’t climb the trees?”
Samantha made a little face. “That’s just so you rent their ladders.”
Mimi was thrilled to straddle one of the stout lower branches and toss apples down to Adam. Marc was content just to rearrange the apples on the ground and play hide-and-seek with Samantha behind the tree trunks.
“Adam,” Samantha called, “I’m going to see if I can find a few cooking apples.” She hadn’t gone far when she heard a grav
el voice yell: “Hey, buddy, can’t you read! Get that kid out of my tree!”
Samantha quickly changed direction and nonchalantly strolled over to the angry orchard manager. “What’s the problem?” she inquired politely.
“Some people just can’t read and follow directions,” the man told her gruffly, watching Adam pluck Mimi from the tree. “Say, lady, ain’t you with them?” he snapped accusingly.
“Who me? Why, I wouldn’t know that man from Adam,” she said innocently, favoring him with a dazzling smile. “I agree with you. It’s just terrible the way people seem to have a total disregard for rules,” she told him seriously. “You keep the orchard so lovely. It must take a lot of work.”
“Oh, it does,” the man preened. “But I enjoy every minute of it. I’ve got near five hundred trees here. Watch over every one. Spray them, prune them, and fertilize them. We are totally organic.”
“Well, you do it beautifully. Tell me, where are you hiding the Golden Delicious? They’re my favorites.”
“Why, they’re mine, too,” the orchard man exclaimed. “They’re five rows over. Would you like me to show you?”
“I’d really appreciate it,” Samantha slid her arm into the crook of his elbow, asking more questions while they walked through the neat rows of trees.
Adam watched the previously irate orchard manager lose all interest in any further recriminations against him and succumbed to Samantha’s natural charms. His face broke into a wide grin when he saw her free hand give him an all-clear signal behind her back. He quickly swung Mimi up onto the tree branch and made sure Marc was close at hand.
Samantha returned ten minutes later cradling a dozen golden apples in her arms. “Well, it looks like you three managed to fill the bushel while I was listening to the life cycle of the apple blossom.” She grinned at Adam, tumbling her cargo into the basket.
“It serves you right,” he retorted. “So you didn’t know us, did you?”
She laughed and wrinkled her nose at him. “It was the only thing I could think of on the spur of the moment. I was afraid we’d all get tossed out of here.”
Adam, Samantha, and the two children walked back to the small outdoor stall and paid for the apples. They stopped, watching in fascination as an old-fashioned wooden press turned bruised fruit into delicious tart cider, which they all sampled.
“Where to now?” Adam inquired after they had resettled themselves in the sports car.
“I did promise to take the kids to lunch,” Samantha said hesitantly.
“Lunch it is.”
After much discussion and a lot of begging from Marc and Mimi, they settled on one of the fast-food restaurants. Samantha and the two children ensconced themselves in a booth, giving Adam strict instructions on what they wanted. He was just about to place their order, when he felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down into Mimi’s dimpled face.
“Sam said to tell you not to forget to get her lots of ketchup.”
“You tell Sam that ketchup is all she just might get!” Adam playfully told the little girl who went giggling back with the message.
He returned to the table with a tray filled with hamburgers, fries, juice and the requested ketchup. It was quite apparent from the lack of conversation and the amount of concentration on the food just how hungry everyone was.
“Everybody all set?” Adam inquired, gathering up the food wrappings for disposal.
“I’m going to the bathroom!” Marc announced, scrambling out of the booth.
“That’s probably a good idea for everyone. We’ve got a long drive home,” Samantha smiled at him. “Marc, you can go with Adam and I’ll take Mimi.” Samantha heard a slightly strangled sound and had to refrain from laughing out loud at the ludicrous expression on Adam’s face.
“Why don’t you take him?” Adam remarked, looking rather uncomfortably at the small boy who barely reached his knees.
“I’m not allowed in the men’s room.”
He ran a large hand around the back of his neck. “Look, I’ve never done this before.”
“You ought to will your kidneys to Harvard.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Don’t worry, Adam,” Mimi told him with sisterly authority, “Marc does everything by himself.”
Samantha gave him a little wave before she and Mimi disappeared into the nearby ladies’ room. When they came out, they found Marc and Adam lounging against the wall, waiting for them. “How did you make out?”
“We managed,” Adam said dryly, ushering them outside and into the car.
The journey home was a quiet but contented one. Marc and Mimi, well fed and tired from their late night and morning activities, were lulled to sleep by road hypnosis. Adam concentrated on his driving now that the highway was filled with late afternoon traffic. Samantha hoped Adam had enjoyed himself; he was such an unknown quantity, that she found it difficult to gauge his reactions.
Adam helped Samantha settle the sleeping children on the sofa and then returned to the car for the basket of apples and to pull the booster seats. He found her in the kitchen, gathering the ingredients for a large bowl of salad.
“Where would you like the bushel?” He inquired, watching her shred lettuce in time to the music that was wafting from the radio.
“I think you better just put them in the laundry room,” Samantha told him thoughtfully. “If I leave them on the back porch the squirrels will devour them in short order. Can I get you anything? Coffee? I do have all the tea in China at my disposal,” she flashed a wicked grin.
Adam shook his head, leaning indolently against the counter, he watched her wash and peel vegetables. “What were you up to yesterday?” he asked almost too casually.
“Yesterday?” Samantha shrugged. “My usual Sunday routine. I went to church, zipped through some housework, finished homework, worked on my term paper, and had an early movie and dinner date, before I took charge of the ‘dynamic duo’ for the evening.”
“And was your movie date so important you couldn’t break it?”
Samantha bristled at his mocking tone. “Attitude adjustment, Mr. Rourke.” She put down the paring knife and faced him squarely. “Look,” her eyes glittered a warning, “just ask me a straight question and I’ll give you a straight answer. I don’t play games. Now, what made you go from nice to snarky?”
“From the way you talked, I wouldn’t have thought that a movie date or anyone or anything else, would have rated higher than the couple’s shower for Hal and Katherine yesterday afternoon.”
Samantha exhaled a heavy sigh, her voice quiet. “You are absolutely right; nothing would have overshadowed their shower. But I was not invited.”
“You weren’t invited? What the hell?” Adam echoed incredulously.
“That’s right.” Refocusing on the salad, Samantha tried to keep the pain out of her voice. “Was anyone surprised by my non-appearance?”
His lips pursed. “Come to think of it, no. I was, especially when they opened your gift.” His fingers gently turned her face back to his. “How the hell were you left off the guest list?” At her arched brow, he expelled one word. “Janine.”
“Actually, it was all part of a plot to get Janine to host a shower for Katherine,” she told him. “Janine visits the office every Wednesday afternoon at one. So the judge and I let her overhear a well-rehearsed conversation that would…um…affect her social conscience enough to have her take over the bridal shower plans.”
“How did you manage that?”
“She overheard my telling her father that I would be delighted to have the shower for Katherine here. But because the house was so small, we’d have to limit it to half a dozen ladies and make it just punch and cake because I was just too busy to handle anything more complicated. It worked beautifully. The next day the judge was inundated with plans for a large shower with a dinner buffet.”
“Didn’t you mind the snub?” He studied her profile.
She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment be
fore meeting his eyes. “I’d be a liar if I said no. It hurt like hell not to be part of their day.”
Adam swore. “You’re wearing that same expression you had when the pet shop manager took the puppy back.” He reached over to the windowsill and grabbed the PEZ dispenser. A lemon confection popped out.
Samantha smiled her thanks and let him place the confection on her tongue. “I’ll live.”
His fingers filtered through her hair, pushing it further off her face. “You should have said something; you could have come with me –”
“That would have made volcano Janine explode,” she gave an exaggerated shudder. “This wasn’t about me. Katherine and the judge were happy with the results, weren’t they?”
“Yes. It was a very enjoyable afternoon. And Janine was on her best behavior,” Adam commented, watching her add garnishes to the salad. “What movie did you see?”
She blinked at him. “Heavens! You do change the subject. Three of Sean Connery’s James Bond movies, director’s cuts that let me fantasize for nearly six hours.”
“Didn’t your date mind losing you to the silver screen?” He bantered lightly, purloining a few olives from the can on the counter.
“As a matter of fact,” Samantha teased gently, “she was doing the same thing.” Then laughed watching his eyebrows arch in surprise. “I went with one of my neighbors whose husband had to work overtime. Any other questions, Mr. Inquisitive?”
Adam grinned and shook his head, noting he felt greatly relieved that she was not with a male companion. “James Bond, huh?”
“That’s right,” Samantha told him dreamily. “But just Connery, not fond of any of the newer Bond’s. I always had this secret fantasy that his Aston Martin would break down and Bond would ask to use my phone…”
“And then what?”
“I’ll never tell!”
Adam laughed. “You are crazy.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You certainly are –”
“Shush,” Samantha ordered, her head nodding toward the radio. “Elvis. This is the song my parent’s danced to at their wedding.”
