Because he’d accidentally kissed her this morning.
Not much of a kiss, granted. He hadn’t tried to kiss her; it must’ve been some kind of primal instinct to turn his face at the last moment so their mouths collided. It was more a following too close and I didn’t hit the brakes in time kind of collision-slash-kiss. An accident. A not paying attention or preparing himself for the aftermath kiss. And with every accident there was a price to pay. His was to see Vee through a different lens than the one he’d once used to view his childhood playmate and younger sister’s friend.
Sam set the chisel on his workbench and brushed his hands down his shorts, dislodging a smattering of wood shavings. Vee’s gaze tracked his hands with the intensity of a cat spotting a red laser dot. If that laser dot had landed on his shorts’ zipper.
Yeah. That’s what had changed. Vee was also seeing him through a different lens. The sudden lack of eye contact and her teeth scraping on her full bottom lip were all the evidence needed.
“Let’s get this over with.” He strode toward her.
Maybe his voice came out a little gruffer, a little crankier than he’d intended because she spun around and slipped outside before he reached her. She put a safe distance of a few yards between them and kept that invisible barrier up as they headed toward the massive kauri stumps and untreated logs at the parking lot’s rear.
From inside the main workshop came the whine of working machinery and the occasional back and forth shouts of the men trying to be heard. It was nearly time for their morning tea or coffee break, no doubt what Isaac had planned so the Wrights could meet the guys without interrupting their work.
“If you stay any farther away, the Wrights will think we’ve had a fight,” he said mildly.
She rolled her eyes, but obligingly moved to an arm’s length away from him. “Should I be clinging to your arm and hanging on your every word?”
“That’d work. Ma’am?” He teasingly offered her his elbow and watched as her gaze danced over his bicep and the tribal inked design peeping out from under his shirtsleeve.
She stared down the length of her nose at him. “We’re not attending a theater opening and I’ve heard all your stories before.”
Sam chuckled and let his elbow fall back to his side as they continued to walk. “Not all of them, you haven’t.”
By the time they rounded the corner to where the Wrights stood listening to Isaac—who was no doubt hitting his stride lecturing them on Māori history, culture, and native timber—
Vee had moved even closer to his side. A soft touch on his fingers and Vee’s hand was suddenly in his. She squeezed his fingers and looked up at him. This time her eyes were full of her normal, spitfire ’tude.
“Don’t say I’m not sticking to my part of the agreement.”
Eric chose that moment to look away from Isaac, his gaze falling on their linked hands. His face creased into a grin and he beckoned them over.
“That was quick,” he said when Sam and Vee drew alongside them. “Guess I owe you a nickel, Ju.”
“My husband, the big spender,” Julia said.
Sam must’ve had a blank or bemused expression on his face as she laughed.
“We had a bet that once you got Vee alone in your workshop we wouldn’t see the two of you again for a while.”
Vee’s fingernails dug into his knuckles. “Oh, we’re trying to show some restraint in the workplace.”
She leaned into him and the skin-to-skin contact of their arms meeting caused little hairs along his forearm to lift. Her face tilted up to his with a smile that, if it was sincere, would’ve tempted him to demonstrate just how thin his restraint had worn. “Aren’t we, my big squishy love possum?”
Love possum? His jaw ached with the effort of not laughing out loud. She also must’ve spotted the roadkill this morning. He slid his fingers from hers and moved his arm, catching her off balance so that she bumped into his side. He draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Muscles tensed under his fingertips as she tried, and failed, to ease away from him.
“It’s a losing battle, my sizzling little lamb chop. I’m never gonna let you go.”
Her lashes slitted together in warning and she slid her arm around his hips and jammed it into the back pocket of his cargo shorts, pinching his ass cheek. Hard.
“Behave,” she said with faux sweetness, and turned back to the Wrights. “We sometimes forget that the world isn’t as relaxed as we Kiwis are. I’m sorry for our less than stellar professionalism.”
This time it was Eric who waved away Vee’s apology with a shrug. “Don’t be sorry. It’s refreshing to have down-to-earth, no-bullshit conversations with y’all.” He grinned at his deliberately thickened Texan drawl. “Just be yourselves and we’ll continue to get along fine.” He pointed a gun-shaped finger at Sam. “Couldn’t keep my hands off Julia when we first fell in love either, so I’m not one to judge.”
The opening workshop door saved Sam from shoving his foot in his mouth over the ‘in love’ comment. Uncle Manu, dressed in his work coveralls and Sunday best black woolen beanie, strolled out and held the door open with his hip.
“You fellas coming before smoko is over, or what?” he shouted, volume pitched to reach over the noise generated inside the shed when the machinery was in use.
Sam hadn’t even noticed the constant roar inside the workshop had ceased. He shot a glance at Isaac who returned his stare with a side of ‘what the hell are you and Vee doing?’ and dropped his arm from Vee’s shoulder. She yanked her hand out of his back pocket, nearly giving him the mother of all wedgies, and strode to join Julia under the looming shadow of a massive untreated kauri stump.
“Come inside out of the heat and meet the guys who turn this into what you saw in the showroom on the way in.” Vee nodded toward Manu whose gaze continued to ping-pong between her and Sam. “This is Sam and Isaac’s uncle.”
And the man almost as close to him as his own dad. Manu was his kaumātua, teacher, and mentor. The only one in Sam’s family who understood how to bring out kauri’s wairua—its spirit—by the power gifted to his hands. Uncle had a tongue as sharp as a chisel blade and was the only one allowed to criticize Sam’s craft if he thought it wasn’t up to scratch. He also had no filter and wouldn’t hesitate to blurt out the first thought to drop into his brain. Even though his uncle was privy to the fake girlfriend charade, his wicked grin warned Sam that Manu was still a loose cannon.
Using his longer legs to his advantage, Sam bypassed Vee and Julia and speed-walked toward Manu. Any attempt at eyeballing his uncle into submission would be a wasted effort, but he could at least warn him to tone it down.
“Kia ora, my favorite tama,” Manu shouted.
For a nanosecond Sam thought he’d been let off the hook. Ehhh, wrong. Manu’s gaze zipped past Sam’s shoulder. “Your wahine is looking waiwaiā this morning. Like a juicy heri or huakiwi.”
“Oooh. What does that mean?” Sam heard Julia ask behind him. “I love learning new words.”
Uncle Manu puffed out his chest in pleasure at the opportunity to educate anyone unfamiliar with the Māori language.
“I said hello to my favorite nephew,” he said as Julia came alongside Sam. “And then I said his woman looked beautiful this morning.” His grin spread slyly across his face. “Like a juicy cherry or a kiwifruit.”
Vee moved into his line of sight, stepping forward to lightly kiss Manu’s grizzled cheek. “You’re too kind. Tēnā koe, Matua.”
Thank you, Uncle.
Growing up in Bounty Bay with Māori spoken as a second language in schools and informally in the many families settled in the area, Vee would’ve known exactly what the old man was saying. And she’d know what he was insinuating, too.
Manu chuckled as she stepped around him into the workshop and held out his callused hand to Eric, who’d stepped ahead of his wife. “Nau mai, welcome. I’m Manu Ngata, Kauri Whare’s head woodturner.”
Eric grasped the man
’s hand and, likely thanks to Isaac’s earlier explanation about the protocol of the traditional Māori greeting of hongi, didn’t flinch when Manu touched the tip of his nose to his. He had to give the American props. Māori custom must have seemed extremely odd and a little terrifying—like seeing a haka performed for the first time—if you weren’t used to it.
Manu repeated the gesture with Julia, who smiled as if she’d been offered the crown jewels. Eric cupped her elbow and escorted her inside, with Manu clapping a hand on his shoulder and saying, “We’ll have a nice sit down and a cuppa with your lovely missus, eh? Then I’ll show you what me and the boys are up to.”
Once Manu had a captive audience he’d forget about teasing Sam about his waiwaiā wahine. Problem was, Sam didn’t know if he could forget.
Vee had the cooler packed with snacks and cold drinks, Ruby slathered in sunblock, and a stockpile of toys, sun umbrellas, and towels lined up on Sam’s deck by the time he, Eric, and Julia arrived home from Kauri Whare that afternoon. She’d used Ruby’s lunchtime as an excuse to leave the Wrights with Sam and Isaac after visiting the workshop. She collected her daughter from a contrite and apologizing Auntie Raewyn, and headed back to Sam’s house.
“I hear the guys’ trucks,” Nat called from the living room.
She and Olivia were entertaining Ruby, or more accurately, distracting her from her determination to head to the beach solo.
From outside came the rumble of Sam’s ute and the louder growl of Isaac’s SUV. Doors slammed and Ruby squealed, running down the hallway to the front screen door.
She pressed her face to it. “Beach, Daddy! Go beach now.”
Vee was a few steps behind her but close enough to hear Julia say, “Aw, she already calls you Daddy? That’s adorable.”
“She’s a cutie, all right.” Sam stepped onto the deck, carrying a six-pack of beer in each hand. “Are you ready for some fun in the sun with me, heihei?”
Ruby bounced on the toes of her little flip-flops. “Yes, yes, yes!”
As her gaze was immediately drawn to Sam’s tall frame filling out his black T-shirt to perfection, Vee’s heart gave an annoying little pitter-patter.
Fun in the sun with Sam. Shirtless fun in the sun.
Stupid heart. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen him shirtless plenty of times before. But it was the first time she’d be expected to be intimate with him. A real girlfriend wouldn’t be able to resist getting handsy with all his sleek, smooth skin.
Luckily, there would be negligible contact. Vee smoothed down her T-shirt and board shorts and pried opened the screen door. Sam’s gaze immediately zeroed in on her, his sensual mouth curving into a slow smile.
“Hey.”
Oh, but she could believe there were layers and layers of subtext in that simple greeting. Hey, it’s good to be home. Hey, you make me smile just by being you. Hey, you look good enough to eat.
Vee commanded her brain to stop making something out of nothing and stepped aside to let him in.
“Hey,” she said neutrally in return. “Everything’s ready to go, and Nat and Olivia are here.”
“Mummy’s not ready, is she?” He put down the beer and scooped Ruby into his arms. His gaze dipped to the neckline of Vee’s T-shirt. “She’s not wearing a swimsuit.”
“I’m wearing this because we all know what happened to my swimsuit.” She gave Julia a welcoming smile as she approached the doorway.
“Turbo ate it,” Ruby crowed then burst into wild giggles. “Bad doggie.”
Sam grinned down at her daughter, then his melted milk chocolate gaze switched back to hers. “Which is why we made a stop on the way home.”
“Here.” Julia held out a Bountiful-logoed shopping bag. “Sam bought you this. Don’t look so horrified,” she added with a laugh. “I helped him choose it.”
She looked horrified? Vee tried to smooth her features into an expression of delighted surprise. That’s what a woman would look like when her significant other brought home an unexpected gift—wouldn’t it? Vee wouldn’t know. The only unexpected gift Patrick had brought home was a pair of pearl earrings more suited to a sixty-year-old woman than one in her twenties. She’d found out later that they actually had belonged to a sixty-year-old woman—his mother, who’d asked him to drop off a bag of unwanted costume jewelry to a charity store.
“Oooh, a peasent.” Ruby craned forward in Sam’s arms, trying to see inside the bag.
With a tight smile, Vee dug into the depths of the bag and fished out a handful of teal-colored nylon. A small handful that unfolded to reveal one of Bountiful’s newest consignment of bikinis. The part she’d removed was the bottom half of the set, cut with a modest but still daringly-high-for-her leg line.
“Isn’t it divine?” Julia enthused. “Now look at the top.”
Vee obediently pulled out the second half of the bikini, a wraparound style halter neck, which was definitely suited more for lounging on the sand than actual swimming. And both parts of the suit would expose a lot more skin than she was comfortable showing—at least while in Sam’s presence.
“It’s very pretty,” she said. “One of Bountiful’s best sellers this season.” Remembering her manners, she switched her gaze back to Sam. “Thank you.”
He rolled one muscular shoulder forward. “I thought the color would look good on you.”
She could stand and argue or be grateful the man hadn’t selected one of their more risqué swimsuits in stock. “I’ll go and get changed.”
Two hours later, Vee relaxed under a sun umbrella. Nat and Julia lounged beside her, watching Eric, Isaac, and Sam continue the Kiwi tradition of beach cricket. She and the two other women had retired to boos and ragging after thirty minutes of standing around waiting for the men to give up the cricket bat or allow one of them to have a turn at bowling.
Eric had turned out to be just as competitive as the Ngata brothers and things were getting heated.
Isaac loped toward Sam, poised with the cricket bat in front of the wickets, and let the tennis ball fly from his hand in an overarm bowl. Sam swung the bat in a smooth, calculated arc. Tennis ball smacked bat and flew up into the cloudless sky. Isaac and Eric streaked across the sand following its trajectory, Eric catching it with a whoop of victory.
“And he’s out,” Isaac hollered with a fist pump and a high-five to Eric.
Nat and Julia politely applauded while Nat gave the other woman another beach cricket 101 explanation. Sam dropped the bat and flipped his brother the bird with a grin.
Vee adjusted her sunglasses, thankful that Nat and Julia couldn’t see exactly where her gaze had been trained this past thirty minutes.
Hint: it wasn’t on the tennis ball.
But hey, Nat and Julia hadn’t been shy in admiring their men’s physiques as they ran between the two wickets staked into the sand, or watching the play of muscles flexing in their upper bodies as they swung at the ball or lunged to try to catch it.
Sam jogged over to the umbrella—a safe distance away from flying balls and overenthusiastic men.
“Eric’s a natural,” he said as he slowed to a stroll. “Bloody beginner’s luck, eh?”
“He was in Little League as a kid. Baseball’s not that different to cricket.” Julia waved at her husband who in turn gave her a wide grin and a thumbs-up before sprinting with Isaac to claim batting rights. “Bless his heart, he’s found a second wind just when I’m starving.”
Sam turned, slipping his fingers into his mouth and letting out a shrill whistle. Eric dropped the bat he’d managed to score before Isaac, and ran over.
Eric’s face crumpled in concern, his gaze zeroing in on Julia. “You okay, darlin’?”
She laughed, shifting in the deck chair Sam had carried down to the beach for her. “I’m fine. It’s just Junior and I are getting hangry.”
“Uh-oh. Pregnant woman meltdown alert,” Eric teased. “We’d better get that takeout you wanted, stat.”
Isaac drew up alongside him. “Time f
or the fish ’n’ chip run, is it? I’ll drive. You riding shotgun?” he asked Eric.
“Sure ’nuff.” Eric turned to Sam. “Coming?”
“Nah. Fish ’n’ chip run doesn’t need all three of us,” Sam said. “Vee hasn’t had a chance to test drive her bikini yet, so I’d better go with her and make sure she doesn’t drown.”
Wait—what? Vee blinked up at him from her half-prone position on her beach towel. “Um, I’m good. I’ll have a swim later.”
“Not safe to swim after a feed of fish ’n’ chips.” Isaac grinned down at her. “Eh, Lifeguard Sam?”
“Right.”
She made a memo to herself to create a new hit list with Isaac taking the top spot, just ousting his younger brother. “Really, I—”
Julia nudged Vee’s ankle with a sandy toe. “You’ve been looking after everyone else since we got here. Go on and have a swim with your man. He looks as if he needs cooling off.”
The heat of Sam’s smile as he extended a hand to help her up likely warmed the sea by a few degrees. She wouldn’t notice the temperature change, though, considering the sudden hot tingles speeding down her body to converge deep inside her.
“A quick dip, then,” she muttered, allowing Sam to pull her to her feet.
While Isaac and Eric headed off, Vee slipped on her flip-flops and crossed the sun-baked dry sand. With any luck Ruby would want to go back into the shallow little waves, but when Vee stopped beside the huge hole and sandcastles she and Olivia were building near the water’s edge, her daughter shook her head.
“Digging with Livvy,” Ruby said emphatically.
“Let’s go or Eric and Isaac’ll be back with dinner.” Sam took her hand and tugged her toward the water.
She felt the burn of Sam’s gaze on her face as they strode side by side into the waves. The shock of the ocean after baking in the sun did nothing to cool the heat sizzling through her. She would’ve said butterflies fluttered in her stomach, but it felt more like a colony of swooping bats. Risking a sideways glance at him, she read enough in his expression to know that swimming wasn’t the reason he’d pulled her away from the rest of the group.
Break Your Heart: A Small Town Romance (Bounty Bay Book 5) Page 12
