“Fine. Phoebe is safe and sound.”
“Excellent. Would you like a glass of wine?”
“It’s like you can read my mind.”
“If only...” He grinned. “Have a seat.”
She didn’t need an invitation, what with her knees going all weak and wobbly. He should have a warning label for that smile that said: “Beware, prolonged exposure could result in acute light-headedness.” Then it hit her that she wasn’t really a guest or one of his women. She was displaced and he was doing her a favor. She should be earning her keep.
Instantly she stood and walked around the island. “You don’t need to be waiting on me. Why don’t I cook dinner?”
He handed her the glass of chardonnay he’d just poured. “Because it’s already cooked.”
“Funny.” She glanced around at the spotless stove. “There’s not a dirty pot or pan in sight. Did you wiggle your nose and make a magical meal? Invisible meat loaf? No calories so it doesn’t go to your hips?”
Holding a beer, he stood there in his snug, worn jeans and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to midforearm. “Except for the calorie part, I’m almost that good.”
She would bet on it and wasn’t thinking food. The idea made her heart race. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“On the way home I made a stop at the Harvest Café and got takeout.”
She smiled. “You win.”
“That could be jumping the gun. You might want to wait until I reveal the menu. Hint—it’s not meatloaf.”
“I don’t even care,” she said. “Lucy Bishop is a genius with food and, as long as I didn’t have to be involved, you are king of the kitchen.”
“If only I could claim that title, but my motives were completely self-serving. It was all about me.” He shrugged. “No time for lunch. Which is why I also got dessert. If you haven’t had Lucy Bishop’s decadent chocolate cake, you’re in for a real treat.”
“You must be starving. You didn’t have to wait for me,” she protested.
“I know.”
Reading between the lines, she had to conclude he wanted to wait. Oh, boy, that could turn a girl’s head. “Then let’s get you fed, mister.”
In ten minutes they were sitting at the table in the nook sharing a bottle of wine while eating salad and shrimp risotto. It was almost like a date. And that made her realize something. “You’re not going out.”
Sam finished chewing the last of his salad. “What?”
“It just occurred to me that you aren’t seeing women.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “Unless there’s something you want to tell me, I’m pretty sure I’m seeing one right now.”
“You’re deliberately misunderstanding me.”
“How do you know I haven’t gone out with someone?”
She could cite the most obvious indicator: he was home every night. Except Faith was afraid to go with that because it was too domestic—a sign that he was a family man. Although that wasn’t experience talking since she didn’t have any clue what a normal family looked like. The idea of it pushed her buttons, all the dangerous ones that made her ache to know what it felt like.
“You haven’t bought any first-date flowers,” she finally said. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the drop in my revenue.”
“If Phoebe’s college fund is a little thin, I’ll make a generous contribution,” he said wryly.
“It will be an investment in America’s youth.” She took a sip of wine. “But seriously, I hope that you taking us in hasn’t cramped your style. If so, we can find somewhere else to go until the house repairs are finished.”
“Jumping to conclusions isn’t the best way to burn calories,” he teased.
“I’m not joking, Sam. I would really like to know if we’re putting you out.”
“I would tell you.” He took a bite of shrimp and chewed thoughtfully. “For that matter, you’d know if I had a problem with our living arrangement.”
“So you don’t? All cards on the table,” she said.
“Honestly, I’ve enjoyed having you here. Both of you,” he added. “That child of yours is terrific. I really get a kick out of her.”
She could tell he cared about Phoebe just by the amount of time he spent with her and the little girl was eating it up. Faith’s father had interacted with her very little, and she was completely invisible to him when her mother was around. She didn’t know how it felt to be daddy’s little girl or have her father wrapped around her little finger.
“Faith?”
“Hmm?”
“You have a funny look on your face.”
“Do I?” The memories weren’t funny at all. They were profoundly lonely and sad. “Sorry. You were saying?”
“Just—don’t worry about moving out, okay?”
She nodded, then made a serious dent in the food on her plate, studying him at the same time. Apparently she was feeling the urge to be bold tonight because she said, “Now you have a funny look on your face. Care to talk about why?”
He seemed to wrestle with whether or not to tell her, then seemed to make a decision. “My mom said something this morning, before she left.”
“Oh?”
“For the first time ever she talked about when she and my dad were separated. It’s noteworthy because when they got back together and she was pregnant with Linc the subject never came up. Even when we got older and had relationship issues of our own, there was no mention of it.”
“What did she say today?”
“That marriage isn’t easy but if you’re willing to do the work it can be magic.”
“Isn’t that kind of a no-brainer? No offense to your mom.”
“The thing is, she thinks never bringing it up could be responsible for the fact that I haven’t gotten serious about a woman since my divorce.”
“Is she right?”
“No.” He finished off his wine then refilled her glass from the bottle before pouring more into his. “I can’t deny that I’d like to settle down, but the fact is that I haven’t found anyone I like.”
“Kiki didn’t do it for you?”
“I like you.” He laughed. “If I met someone like you, the thought of marriage wouldn’t make me hyperventilate. Because you’re funny, smart, pretty and a good mom.”
He thought she was pretty? Way to bury the lede, she thought. But she was liking this. “Go on.”
“If we were married I could get a break on buying flowers.”
“If we were married there wouldn’t be any more first dates so that would save you a bundle of money right there. Just saying,” she told him.
“Smart aleck. The truth is, I believe you’re honest and honorable.”
By “honorable” she knew he meant she wasn’t the type to make his life a living hell if they split. This was turning out to be an interesting conversation. She was sure he was only talking so candidly because he’d made it clear to Faith that no woman could make him want to get married again. She would go along, play “what if.”
“My turn.” She sipped her wine then said, “From my perspective, your pro-marriage bullet points are as follows—good sense of humor, which means you’re smart. Funny people are. You’re not hard on the eyes. And you’re a good, decent man. Responsible. On top of that you could fund Phoebe’s college education with one hand tied behind your back. I’ve already said I think you’d be a great dad. Phoebe could do worse. Oh, and she really likes you, too.”
“So what we have here is mutual like for each other.” He held up his wineglass. “What should we drink to?”
Faith thought for a moment then touched her glass to his. “Here’s to you not putting love on the list.”
He didn’t drink to that. “What is it about love t
hat bothers you so much?”
“You mean other than the fact that my ex clearly wasn’t feeling it for me?”
“Yes,” he said. “Even after a bad relationship most people, in time, are willing to try again.”
“You’re not,” she pointed out.
“That’s about the legalities of it, not the emotions.” He frowned. “But there’s something going on with you. A core belief that shapes your views.”
How very perceptive of him. Faith realized she might have underestimated his depth. Maybe it was the wine, or just the fact that she needed to get it off her chest, but the words came pouring out. “I don’t think I ever told you why my aunt Cathy left her business to me.”
“I just figured she didn’t have children.”
“Yes, but it’s more than that. I was the child she never had and she was the parent I didn’t have.” She swirled the contents of her glass. “My mother and father are gone now. In fact they died less than a year apart, but I was an adult by then. They were extremely close. Even worked together at their travel agency business in Helena. They traveled a lot, seeing the world together. Just the two of them. At some point they just left me with my aunt because I was there most of the time anyway. The two of them were completely wrapped up in each other. The only explanation I ever got for them ignoring me was that they were madly in love and it was too consuming to let anyone else in.”
Sam stared at her for several moments. “So the message you got is that love is exclusionary?”
“Yes.” She shrugged. “And now I have Phoebe and I love her with all my heart. I can’t take the chance that my feelings for a man would leave her out.”
“It doesn’t have to,” he said rationally.
“Intellectually, I know you’re right, but I have no proof of that. I won’t risk her happiness.”
“Of all the irresponsible, selfish behavior—Your parents, not you.” The muscle in Sam’s jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth.
Faith had never seen him look like that, so angry he might snap the stem of the glass in his hand. “I’m over it.”
“The hell you are.” His voice was a growl. “But now I understand. Your childhood left a bigger scar than your husband did.”
“Well, it is what it is.” She wanted to tease the fury from his expression. “And based on our tragic pasts, we are, hypothetically speaking, well-suited to each other.”
“For all the reasons we just listed,” he agreed.
“Exactly. Except there’s one thing we didn’t mention.” Not since the night of the wedding reception. And now they were alone. “Sex.”
Funny how a single three-letter word could chase away irritation and replace it with intensity.
“What about it?” he asked.
“Most people these days who discuss marriage, which we did, take it out for a spin. To test compatibility.”
“Seems wise.” It was the same tone he’d used that night when he gave her fair warning and said the kiss wasn’t sudden. That he’d wanted it for a while.
Right here and now was an appropriate time and place for—more stuff. She met his gaze. “Maybe the two of us should have an audition.”
“I’m very much in favor of that.”
Chapter Twelve
Faith’s heart was beating so fast the blood pounded in her ears as Sam took her hands in his and tugged her to a standing position. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close to his body. It was amazing how well they fit together and her pulse stuttered at the way his eyes blazed with need.
For her.
“I’ve been hoping you didn’t change your mind.” His voice was husky.
“I usually don’t once it’s made up.”
“A woman who knows what she wants is just about as sexy as it gets.”
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the compliment,” she said, “but I really wish you’d kiss me now.”
“That would be my pleasure.”
Sam barely touched his mouth to hers and every part of her that wasn’t already feeling alive kicked into high gear. Her skin tingled, her nerve endings sparked and she could barely breathe. The pressure was soft and slow at first, then he traced the tip of his tongue to the seam of her lips and she opened to him, eager and excited. He delved inside, thoroughly exploring and enticing. He kissed her, open-mouthed and in command. He kissed her lips, then moved to her neck and finally returned to her mouth, as if he were a starving man.
He went on kissing her as if this was all they could do and hadn’t already agreed that “stuff” was going to happen. And it didn’t, until he finally moved one hand underneath her T-shirt, stroking the bare skin at her waist, setting her whole body on fire. Suddenly her breast was in his palm and even through her plain cotton bra she could feel that there was nothing plain about the sensuous shock waves rolling through her. She went weak with wanting and clung to him.
“I think we should take this upstairs.” There was a needy edge to his voice that thrilled.
“Your room or mine?” Faith felt sizzle in places that hadn’t sizzled for a very long time. Hormones were bubbling over as if to say, What took you so long? “For what it’s worth, I vote yours. I’ve never seen it.”
Amusement and wonder chased away the lust in his eyes for just a moment. “Never? Not even a peek? When I wasn’t here? You weren’t curious?”
“Of course I was.” She shivered when he put both hands on the bare skin at her waist. “But it felt like an invasion of your privacy. And therefore wrong.”
His mouth curved up in a tender smile. “Like I said. A woman with integrity.”
“It’s a dirty job but someone has to do it. I—”
He touched a finger to her lips, stopping the flow of words. “Right now I’m seeing that your biggest flaw is talking too much.”
“Your room it is.” She made a motion across her mouth as if zipping it closed.
His response was to take her hand and lead her up the stairs to the room she had never seen. It was spacious, with a conversation area made up of love seat, chair and ottoman in front of a flat-screen TV. There were two large walk-in closets, presumably a his and hers set. Right now the hers was empty.
There was a king-size bed in dark cherrywood and, while she looked around, he folded down the comforter, blanket and sheet. He’d opened one of the nightstands and now there was a square packet ready and waiting on top of it.
Faith stood in front of him and said, “I like the sleigh bed. It’s oddly romantic.”
“Why odd? I can be romantic. You should know that better than anyone, plant lady.”
Now that she thought about it... “You’re right. A first-date flower is a twelve on the one-to-ten romantic scale.”
He frowned suddenly. “I should have a rose for you.”
“It’s okay.” She moved closer to him and pulled his shirt from the waistband of his jeans. She touched the first button and undid it, then moved on to the next. When his chest was revealed, she settled her hands on his bare skin, loving the hard contours and the masculine dusting of hair. Her insides turned to liquid heat when she pushed the material from his wide shoulders. “You had me at ‘takeout.’”
He swallowed hard. “Just this second I figured out that you have another flaw.”
“Is it serious?” She put her fingers on his belt buckle.
“No,” he said in a strangled voice. “Definitely fixable.”
“Whatever could it be?”
“You have too many clothes on.”
That was all it took. He kissed her and in the next instant he had her shirt and bra off without ever taking his mouth from hers. Their labored breathing was loud in the large room as they undressed then fell slowly onto the bed with arms around each other.
He hovered over he
r, nibbling, taking and giving. Mouths, teeth and tongues nipped and dueled, advanced and retreated. She felt him touch her everywhere and when she was absolutely certain that she couldn’t stand it one more second, he reached for the condom and put it on.
Then he levered himself over her, taking his weight on his forearms as he slowly entered her. Her fingers dug into his muscular back as his body pressed deeply into hers. Over and over, a tight, powerful, wonderful intrusion.
The exquisite torment drove her higher and higher still, until behind her eyelids there was an explosion of brightness, not unlike fireworks on the Fourth of July. Pleasure rolled through her and Sam held her as the sweet spasms peaked and slowly faded. Then he started to move again. His hips drove deeper, thrusting once, twice, then...
He went still, pressing his face into her neck and groaning. His muscles convulsed and his big body shuddered. Faith held him close as their breathing returned to normal.
Finally he lifted his head and studied her, an assessing look. “Hi there.”
“Hello yourself.” She smiled. “And before you ask, I have to say that could not have been more perfect.”
A slow, sexy grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “I wasn’t going to ask.”
“But you were thinking about it. I could hear the wheels turning.”
“Ah. Good to know that reading minds is your superpower.”
“If only. It’s more an intuition thing.”
He brushed the hair back from her face and softly touched his mouth to hers. “What is it telling you now?”
She shivered and almost couldn’t form a coherent thought. At the last minute she pulled herself together. “I think you want dessert now.”
He smiled, then pressed a kiss to the swell of her breast. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but what we just did felt pretty sweet to me.”
“I couldn’t agree more, but I was talking about the chocolate cake from the Harvest Café. For your information, I have had it. And I would very much like some now.”
“Someone craving sugar?”
“Let’s call it a renewing of energy.” Playfully she dragged a finger over his collarbone and down his chest. “For later.”
The New Guy in Town Page 15
