by Justine Dell
“Okay. Stop by again soon, okay?”
“Sure.”
“It was good to meet you, Jenny,” Candice said as they rose from the table.
To Samantha’s surprise, Jenny and Candice hugged and gave each other knowing smirks. What was that all about?
As they walked out the door, Candice called out one more time, “Remember what I told you about my brother, Samantha. Things aren’t always what they seem.”
The pesky twisting in Samantha’s stomach returned as she waved and walked out. She didn’t need to be reminded how Lance made her feel. Her body reminded her every second of every day.
Chapter Twelve
“The secret to happiness is freedom…
And the secret to freedom is courage.”
~Thucydides
“GUESS WHAT, GRAM?” Samantha walked into her grandmother’s recovery room with Jenny in tow. She ran over to give Gram a hug.
“What, dear?”
“The doctors said your rehabilitation is going better than expected.” She had to wipe a happy tear from her eye. “It may be only a week or so before you can come home.”
Gram’s face brightened. “I know. I spoke with the doctor this morning.”
“It was wonderful news to the start the day.” Samantha had had to keep from doing cartwheels down the hallway. “And the house will be ready for you when you arrive,” Samantha added, but Dorothy’s face saddened. “What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t want things to change because I’ve gotten—”
“Shh.” Samantha stroked her grandmother’s gray hair and sat next to her on the bed. “Nothing’s changed, Gram. In time, you’ll be just as strong as you were. You’ll see. The changes are needed so it’s easier for you.”
Gram smoothed out the sad expression. “Sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to sound impolite. Getting old takes some getting used to.”
Samantha almost laughed at the smirk on her grandmother’s face.
Gram’s attention turned to Jenny. “Who’s this?”
“Oh, I almost forgot. Sorry.” Samantha waved Jenny toward the bed. “This is a friend from New York. She’s visiting me for the weekend. Jenny, this is my wonderful grandmother, Dorothy.”
Gram nodded. “Nice to meet you. So tell me, how do you put up with my snarky granddaughter?”
“Gram!”
Jenny laughed hysterically.
Gram’s face twisted in amusement as she eyed Samantha. “Oh, dear. I know you’ve got some of my temper. You don’t hide it very well.”
Samantha’s face went hot. She should’ve known Gram would see right through her. “That bad, Gram?”
Jenny patted Gram’s hand. “Well, I’ll tell you—it’s not easy. You’ve got to have some tough skin to be around this one.” She shot a wry glance at Samantha. “But I love her.”
“She’s hard to love, isn’t she?”
“Yes,” Jenny replied.
“But she’s hard not to love as well,” Gram added with a smile.
Jenny nodded. Samantha noticed the knowing glance that passed between Jenny and Gram, similar to the one Jenny and Candice had shared. Was she totally missing something? Why did she feel like everyone around her knew something she didn’t, like she was on the outside of some private joke?
“Okay, okay, enough about me,” Samantha said. “Let’s talk more about you, Gram.”
“Your grandmother is adorable, Samantha,” Jenny said as they made their way back to the car. “She’s really happy about coming home, isn’t she?”
More relief settled in Samantha’s chest. “Yes. It’s been difficult for her. And because I wasn’t here…”
Jenny took hold of Samantha’s elbow. “You’re here now. That’s what matters. Remember that.”
“I know. It’s just hard. A lot has happened in the few short days I’ve been back here. I never thought I’d be dropping myself into the middle of a big hole of madness without the tools to get out.”
“You’ve got the tools. You just need to learn how to use them.”
Samantha stopped midstride. Jenny was right. How was it that everyone around her caught on quicker than she did? Samantha tilted her head and looked at Jenny. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“When we were at the diner, right before we left, you hugged Candice and gave her a look. And then, with Gram, you gave her the same look. What was it for?”
A smile curved the corners of Jenny’s mouth. “Oh, it was nothing. We just have a connection.”
Samantha crossed her arms. “A connection?”
Jenny fought not to laugh as they started walking again. “Yes. You see, we’ve all dealt with the good Samantha and the bad Samantha. We have similar experiences to share, and they don’t even need to be said out loud.”
Samantha’s skin crawled. Had she really been that difficult?
Yes.
She couldn’t blame her best friends and family members for sharing that connection. Her insides wrenched in sympathy for what she put everyone through. Was there any way to make it better?
“I know I haven’t been the greatest friend this past year, Jenny, but I wanted you to know how much I appreciate you and our friendship. You’ve really put up with a lot from me.” Samantha stopped and put her arm around Jenny. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“Oh, Samantha. I love you when you’re crazy or sane.”
“Really, I want you to know I couldn’t have made it without you. I couldn’t have ever asked for a better friend.”
“Stop before you make me cry,” Jenny said.
“Before I cry.”
“Okay, stop before we both cry.”
As they continued on to the antique shop, Samantha knew she had just overcome a huge hurdle regarding her tangled emotions: talking about how she felt. Another weight lifted from her chest and some pain was erased from her heart.
“Here we are.” Samantha opened the door to the antique shop and ushered Jenny inside. “Don’t mind the mess. I’ve been working on getting it cleaned up these past few days.”
“Mess? It’s sparkling clean in here. I can see my reflection in the floor.”
“It’s a work in progress, anyway.”
“Whatever you say, sweetie. Do you mind if I look around?”
Samantha set her purse on the counter and flipped on the upstairs lights. “Sure, have at it. Would you like an official tour?”
“Ha. No thanks. I’ll just take a quick peek. I’ve been looking for a chair to go with my retro coffee table.”
Jenny liked antiques, but preferred nineteen eighties chic to most things. “I don’t know if you’ll find anything; Gram likes things older than you, but go ahead. I’ll be in the office getting some stuff in order. Then how about we go grab some lunch?” Since she hadn’t touched a lick of her breakfast, her stomach was growling in protest.
“Sounds good.”
Jenny wandered up the wooden staircase and disappeared amongst the antiques. Samantha headed back to the office and dug through the recently reorganized filing cabinets to put some invoices away. She was still finding records of payments to Cole, which only irritated her.
Suddenly, the scent of sawdust and sweat made her pause.
Samantha lifted her head from the filing cabinet and saw Lance looming in the doorway. His steel-gray eyes held her gaze, making the temperature in the room shoot up at least ten degrees.
“Hey, Sam.”
“Umm.” Why weren’t the circuits firing in her brain? As he moved closer, his scent consumed her. Beads of perspiration formed on the back of her neck just from hearing him say her name. And not even her full name, but the nickname she hated, no less.
She rattled her head a time or two. “Yeah?”
One more long stride put him right in front of her, towering over her.
Her body had to be reacting this way because she was emotional; she’d had an epiphany with Jenny and Candice, and then had good news about Gram. She was also stresse
d out about her brother, and irritatingly aroused because of Lance, and then he walked in. Yup—emotional.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Your face is flushed.”
She brought her hand up to her hot cheek. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just going through some paperwork, that’s all.”
His dark eyes raked over her face before he backed up and propped a hip on the desk. “Is this a good time to go over your grandmother’s estimates?”
She shut the file cabinet and moved to the other side of the small office. It wasn’t far enough. The urge to walk over and ruffle his raven hair was almost too much to bear. Good God. Now she was losing it. She had been perfectly fine until—
“Sam?”
Samantha straightened a picture on the wall, trying desperately to get her thoughts and body under control. When she reached for the third picture frame, she knew she’d lost the battle.
“Sam?” Lance’s voice rumbled through the tight space, almost making her tremble. His hand caught her waist, and she twisted around to face him. “Did you hear me, Sam?”
His strong, masculine features came into complete focus. Crap. She should have known that talking about her feelings would bring out the ones she needed to keep buried. Once the flood gates opened, things she’d tried to hide came trickling out whether she wanted them to or not. She’d been deceiving herself when it came to Mr. Lance Cummings.
She cleared the sandpaper from her throat. “Yes?”
His inquisitive stare almost buckled her knees. Why now?
“The estimates. Did you look over them?”
She clenched her hands stiffly at her sides, willing herself not to touch him. “Yes, I did.”
“And?”
“Oh, they’re fine. It’s all fine. Go ahead and keep doing whatever it is you’re doing with the house.”
He tilted his head and looked her over once more. She drew in a shallow breath, hoping his scent didn’t tip her right over the edge. She adjusted all three picture frames again.
“So, you’re not mad at me about this morning?” he asked.
She should be furious. She was furious. Hell, she should be mad at him for a million other things, too. But now that the trickling of her feelings for him had begun, she didn’t know how to stop it, and God help her, she needed all the strength she could muster to keep herself from making the biggest mistake on earth.
“Listen, it’s kind of been a weird day,” she said. That wasn’t so much a lie as it was a protective measure. “I’m not quite myself right now.”
“Have you had lunch?”
To keep from moving away from him and rearranging everything in the office, she twisted her fingers together and made herself stand two-by-four straight. “No, actually. As a matter of fact, I haven’t eaten today.”
He cracked a smile, and not the kind that made her want to smack it off his face. “No wonder you look so pale. Let’s go to the diner. I’ll buy you lunch. We can talk about it more there.”
“Oh, well—”
“Hey, you’ll never guess what I found—” Jenny bounded around the corner into the cramped space of the office, stopping abruptly by Lance’s large frame. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there.” She maneuvered around him with a wicked grin on her face.
Samantha had to suppress a groan; she knew what Jenny was thinking. It bothered her more than she liked to admit.
“I found the perfect chair upstairs.”
Lance moved across the tiny space to allow Jenny to stand next to Samantha. The walls closed in, and Samantha found it hard to breathe. Of all the problems she had, she didn’t want to add claustrophobia to the list, but in the tight space, where the air was thick and the temperature was soaring, it was unavoidable.
“That’s great, Jenny,” Samantha said.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt you two,” Jenny admitted with a cheesy grin. “I thought you’d be alone.”
“Oh, Lance stopped by to talk about the estimates on Gram’s place.”
“We were just going to the diner to get some lunch,” Lance interrupted. “Would you like to join us?”
Jenny’s eyes lit up. “Of course.”
At that very moment, with the three of them packed like sardines in a tin can and Jenny getting all flutter-eyed with Lance, Samantha wanted to say a few choice words. But she didn’t. She held her breath for five long seconds, blew it out, and said, “All right then, let’s go.”
As they took their seats at the diner, Samantha knew she had accomplished a major feat back at the antique shop. She had actually controlled her unease and her temper. She hadn’t done that in over a year, and it felt wonderful. However, the reason she had to control her temper plagued her. She really didn’t want to tell Jenny about her past with Lance, and she really didn’t want to tell her friend to back off because those feelings had slithered back where they didn’t belong.
“Well, isn’t this a happy looking bunch?” Candice chimed as she brought over three menus.
“Hey, sis,” Lance replied. “What’s good today?”
Candice nudged him on the shoulder. “Everything is good every day. You should know that.”
They shared a laugh, and Samantha sighed. Not again. Not more emotions she didn’t want to deal with. Wasn’t everything she had on her plate enough? But watching Candice and Lance talk so openly and lovingly reminded Samantha of Cole—the brother she hadn’t seen in ten years. The last time hadn’t been pretty. Drunk and out of control, he had crashed Samantha’s party when she came back home to celebrate her first best seller. He’d hit the tree in Gram’s yard when pulling in, tripped over the chairs, and had fallen into the kids’ wading pool. She’d never been able to help him or understand him, and now, in Samantha’s mind, he had taken advantage of the one person who’d tried to help him: Gram.
“Sam?”
“Huh, what?”
“Samantha,” Jenny said, “I’m going to start worrying about you if you don’t stop floating off into space like that.”
“I’m sorry. I was thinking about something.”
“That’s been happening a lot today,” Jenny replied.
Everyone was focused on Samantha, especially Lance. Every time Samantha glanced up, his curious stare was fixed on her. She had to force herself not to look at him.
“I know,” Samantha said. “Like I said earlier—a lot’s happened today and I’m just trying to take it all in.” Jenny shot her a sympathetic look. Candice squeezed her brother’s shoulder at the exact same time. Lance flinched.
He quickly recovered and put on the hard face she didn’t much care for. “Ready to order?” he asked.
Samantha ordered something simple, hoping she would be able to keep it down as her stomach did somersaults. With intent focus, she watched Jenny try to flirt with Lance, and to Samantha’s amazement, Lance charmingly brushed off her advances. His cool eyes always wandered over Samantha’s face and watched every single action. It was intimidating and arousing at the same time. If only she had a crystal ball that told her what Lance was thinking as he looked at her.
Jenny was a smart girl, and she got the hint pretty quickly. That lifted another weight from Samantha’s chest and gave her one less thing to worry, stress, and fight about. Not that she was going to fight with Jenny anyway. It would have been simple enough to explain her past with Lance, and Jenny would have backed right off. Too bad Samantha hadn’t gotten the lump out of her throat earlier when Jenny mentioned liking him; she could have saved herself all this worry. Jenny wouldn’t have flirted with him. But Samantha had been stubborn. Or hard-headed. Or just plain stupid.
“You should probably eat more of your lunch, Sam.”
Samantha looked up from her half-eaten chicken pasta, exhausted from the emotional ups and downs of the day. It was past one o’clock, and she felt the urge for a nap.
“Don’t you like it?” he asked when she didn’t reply.
“Yes, it’s fine. My stomach is giving me a little trouble.” Along with every o
ther part of my body.
“You didn’t mention feeling sick earlier,” Jenny said. She scooted her chair closer to Samantha and put her hand on Samantha’s forehead. “Cool as a cucumber.”
“I’m not sick. Just out of sorts.”
“Is everything okay?” Candice interrupted the silence that fell over the table.
Samantha looked up and smiled. “Yes, everything is fine. Thank you.”
Candice’s gaze flickered to Samantha’s plate, then to Lance, then back to Samantha. The somersaults in Samantha’s stomach escalated to a full grown circus trapeze act. She needed to get away from Lance. His eyes. His smell. Just him.
Hell, she really needed to talk to Dr. Wade.
Candice once again broke the silence at the table. “The Spring Festival is tomorrow, Samantha. I remember how much you used to like it. Do you think you could come?”
The Spring Festival in Burlington. Children frolicking in the meadow just off the side of the courthouse square. The scent of fresh cinnamon rolls, elephant ear pastries, and every other fattening food she could imagine. Bands playing everything from country fiddle music to recent Billboard hits. Samantha remembered the festival well—the fun she’d had, the friends she’d made, and the happiness that ensued from that one day. But, with everything else in her life turning upside-down, she didn’t know if she could handle any more excitement.
“No, I don’t think so,” Samantha replied. “I’ve really got a lot of stuff to do.”
Jenny frowned. “Come on. It sounds like fun. I may never get the chance again.” She pushed her lips in an exaggerated pout.
Samantha didn’t want to disappoint her, but she didn’t want to guarantee anything either. “We’ll see.” Samantha didn’t like that she felt like a mother making a half-promise to a child.
“Sam, we haven’t talked about the details for your grandmother’s house,” Lance said.
“I told you everything’s fine. Go ahead and finish what you started. I’m sure Gram will be pleased.”
