by Ann Roth
“What’s male ifflence?” William asked.
“It means grownup men who are friends,” Samantha explained, giving her neighbor a pointed, stay-out-of-this look.
“Adam is a man and a grownup,” William said. “And I want him to be my friend.”
“I’m sure he’d like that, but he’s very busy. Now, I need to speak privately with Mrs. Randall. Then we should get back so I can do some prep work for tonight’s baking. Will you wait for me here?”
“But what about my cocoa?”
“Why don’t we save that until next time? We’ll be in the kitchen. If you decide to leave the barn, come straight there, all right?”
William nodded and then moved closer to the stalls.
As outspoken and opinionated as Betty Randall tended to be, she was equally open to hearing what others had to say. As soon as Samantha could speak without her son hearing, she shared her thoughts.
“When William is in the room, please don’t talk about him in the third person,” she said, remembering times when her parents had spoken about her when she’d been right there. “I don’t want him feeling like he’s invisible.”
“I should have thought of that. From now on, when William and I are in the same room, I’ll address any comments about him directly to him.”
Relieved the woman understood, Samantha relaxed. “Thanks. Now I have a question. What exactly did you mean about male influence?”
“Only that William could do with a male role model in his life.”
“He has a good one. My dad. Once or twice a month, they talk on the phone.”
“But how often do they see each other?”
Betty knew the answer to her own question—not since Samantha and William had left Enterprise. Over the Christmas holiday, Samantha hadn’t been up for the ten-plus-hour drive or crossing the snowy Siskiyou Mountains to visit Enterprise. She couldn’t afford airfare, either, let alone the time away from her baking.
Her parents had felt the same way about traveling to Guff’s Lake. It was unlikely William would see them again until summer.
“I rest my case. Bringing another man into William’s life can’t hurt.”
Oh, but it could.
“You worry because his father walked out,” Betty said. “That doesn’t mean all men would.”
“I can’t take that chance.”
“I understand, dear. Are you sure you don’t want coffee? It’s still hot.”
“I wish I could, but I really have to get home and do some work… if I can pry William away from you and the horses.”
Betty chuckled. “I’ll make myself scarce, then. Shut the barn door when you leave. And come back soon.”
“We will.”
After hugging her neighbor, Samantha returned to the barn to collect William.
As she’d expected, he put up a fuss about leaving.
“Mrs. Randall has things to do, and so do I, remember?” she said.
He wore that stubborn, clamped-jaw look, so Samantha tried a different tack, one sure to appeal to his growing sense of independence. “I’ll bet you’re big enough to close the barn door by yourself today,” she said. “Then we have to leave.”
He brightened right up. “Okay.”
While he struggled with the heavy latch, his tongue poked out.
“Need some help?” Samantha asked, ready to step in.
“No.” After much grunting and effort, he succeeded. “I did it!” he crowed, looking very proud. “High five me, Mom.”
Samantha did. Then they headed for home.
On the walk back, her son brought up Adam again. “Please, Mom, can we invite him over for dinner? He’ll like our house.”
He had no idea Adam had seen the house this morning. He’d made Samantha want things she wasn’t ready for, and she wasn’t about to invite him back.
Even more important, she didn’t want William getting attached. “Adam works long hours at the station,” she explained. “I doubt he has the time for dinner with us.”
“But, Mom, he likes us. I could tell. He’ll come, I know it.”
“Maybe sometime,” she hedged. “But not right now. Adam and I are both too busy.”
Her son heaved a dramatic sigh and dragged his boots across the muddy ground.
“Guess what happens on Friday?” Samantha said, changing the subject. “I get paid. You know what that means.”
“Saturday hotdogs and curly fries at The Rogue!” Dragging feet forgotten, William pumped his fist.
During the rest of the walk home, he chattered about Douglas and Harper, and how they’d practiced their Ninja moves at recess. He didn’t mention the firefighter again.
Relieved, Samantha gave her brow a mental swipe. With any luck, in a day or two, William would forget all about Adam Healey. And so would she.
*
When possible, Adam and his buds played poker on Friday nights. The game moved from house to house. Anyone from the station was welcome, and you never knew who might show up.
Adam had hosted a month ago. Tonight’s game was at Rob’s. Besides Adam, Nate and Ethan showed up, rounding out the table.
Adam puffed on a cigar and laid down his cards. “Three queens.”
The other players tossed in their hands and swore. As tight as they were and as much as they trusted each other to have each others’ backs, not one of them enjoyed losing.
Nate shuffled. “How’s Richard doing?” he asked Adam as he dealt new cards.
Everyone knew about Adam’s father. Even though he’d retired from his job as captain long before any of them had started working at the station, they’d all met him once or twice.
“He’s doing okay,” Adam said. “As sick as he is, he’s still the same s.o.b. as always.”
This hand wasn’t as good as the previous one, but not bad. With four of the five cards in the same suit, he could end up with a flush. He discarded the odd card out. “Hit me, Nate. One card.”
Nate dealt him a replacement in the suit Adam needed, giving him the flush. Stifling a triumphant grin, he maintained a somber expression and tossed in a couple of chips. “I’ll be at his place tomorrow, busting my chops to clean his gutters, but you know he’ll give me hell for it.”
“He’s damn lucky to have your help.” Rob studied his cards then tossed his two chips into the kitty.
Adam shrugged. “Someone has to keep the place up for him.”
Ethan threw down his cards. “I fold,” he said around the cigar clamped between his teeth. “If you’re in good enough shape to climb up to the roof and clean gutters, you’re probably ready for regular duty.”
“I see the doctor Monday.” With his uninjured hand, Adam crossed his fingers and held them up.
His flush won him the pot again.
“The poker god is with you tonight,” Ethan said. He yawned and stretched. “I’m tired of losing and ready to pack it in. Got a got a gig tomorrow night, and I’ll be up till all hours.” He pantomimed playing his sax.
When not on duty, he and the other three members of Mello, the jazz band he’d founded, worked steadily.
“Got a hot date afterward?” Rob asked.
“Not yet, but I will.” Ethan winked. The combination of firefighting and local jazz star made him a primo babe magnet, and he knew it. “We’re playing at Lucky Joe’s, and you know what that means…plenty of single women.”
Saturday nights, the popular bar on the west side of town featured live music and always played to a packed house.
Although Adam had heard Mello perform numerous times, he seriously considered spending Saturday night at Lucky Joe’s. Hell, he needed to do something. If he met a willing woman, all the better.
On the heels of the thought, he wondered if Sam liked jazz.
Forget that. After he’d cooled off the other day and come to his senses, he’d decided to steer clear of her and her son. He wanted her, but he didn’t want the trouble that getting tangled up with her would surely cause.
So why did he keep fantasizing about her?
“What’s with the frown?” Nate asked as they put away the cards and chips. “You trounced us good tonight and pocketed ten whole bucks.”
Adam blew on his nails then polished them on his shirt. “I’m number one.”
“This week,” Ethan said. “Cocky bastard.”
“That I am. Where’s the action next week?” Adam asked as he shrugged into his bomber jacket.
Rob consulted his smart phone for the poker schedule set up by the station’s tech genius, Owen. “At Rafe’s place.”
They walked out together.
Adam warmed up the 4Runner then headed toward home. It was a cold, clear evening, with stars and a bright, three-quarter moon. A night made for crawling under the covers with a warm, willing woman. Adam fantasized Sam, naked and hungry under him. His jeans fly grew uncomfortably tight.
“Damn,” he muttered. He was not going to think about her.
He popped a Keb’Mo’ album into the CD player and cranked up the volume nice and loud. The bluesy tunes drowned out his thoughts. He was singing along with “Dirty Low Down and Bad” when he realized he’d taken a detour.
Instead of driving toward his place, he tooled down Sam’s street. How had that happened?
Snickering at himself, he slowed to a crawl and rolled past the house. Not a single light on that he could see. Which made sense, as she had to get up super early to bake and make deliveries.
He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed, but ending up here settled any doubts about his plans for tomorrow night.
He would definitely go to Lucky Joe’s.
Chapter Six
‡
As promised, around noon Samantha pulled into the parking lot of The Rogue, the Denney’s-style restaurant William loved.
The lot was packed, normal for lunchtime on a Saturday. As she searched for a parking space, a fire-color 4Runner caught her eye. Only one person in town drove a car that color, and the 1-Adam license plate number with its Professional Firefighter tag erased any doubts that the car was his.
Adam was here.
Samantha’s stomach fluttered as it did every time she thought about him. Which was a lot, no matter how hard she tried to forget.
Seeing him wouldn’t help, and she almost turned the car around and left. But she’d promised William. Although…. They could run an errand and come back later.
“I’m so hungry I’m going to order two cheesy hotdogs and curly fries with ketchup. And chocolate milk,” he announced, almost as if he sensed her reluctance to go inside. “What are you going to eat, Mom?”
She was no coward, Samantha told herself. She would say hello, just as she would anyone, then find a table for her and William, where they would enjoy their lunch. “A patty melt and sweet potato fries. I see a parking slot at the end of this row.”
Moments later, she let William out of the car. Fearing he would bolt across the busy lot, she reached for his hand. “Let’s check for moving cars,” she reminded him.
After a quick glance around, her eager son tugged her forward. Keeping a wary eye out for traffic, she let him pull her along at a fast clip. The second he reached the entrance to the restaurant, he released her hand and attempted to open the heavy door by himself. He couldn’t manage it. Samantha helped him, and they stepped inside.
The large restaurant was crowded and noisy, with servers rushing here and there. Yet she found Adam right away. He sat at a table for two in front of a side window, hunched over what looked like a textbook.
His broad shoulders strained his unbuttoned flannel shirt. The grey T-shirt underneath hugged his chest and flat belly. And those biceps…. He was the best-looking man in the room.
“I see Adam!” William pointed at him.
By the time Samantha jerked her head from the clouds, her son had raced forward, shouting Adam’s name.
Kids at nearby tables gaped at him, and the adults with them looked equally curious. Recognizing a few familiar faces, Samantha smiled and shrugged as she chased after her son.
Wearing a friendly expression, Adam shut the book. “Hey there, sport.”
Winter sunlight streamed through the window, making his eyes look especially blue. Samantha heard the collective sighs of admiration from the women in the room.
“Hey, Sam.”
His grin amped up to killer level, setting off serious havoc inside her. Her lips tingled, her nipples tightened, and her whole body yearned for him. Somehow, she managed an easy smile. “Hi, Adam. We didn’t expect to find you here.”
“My pop lives a couple miles away, and by the time I left his place earlier this morning, I needed food.” He gestured at the empty plates he’d pushed aside. “By the way, my pop is crazy about your treats, especially the blueberry muffins.”
Oblivious of the electricity arcing between her and Adam—or maybe because he sensed it, but didn’t understand it—William began to chatter. “We got paid, and today we get to eat lunch here! Mom says I can have chocolate milk and cheesy hotdogs and curly fries. With ketchup.”
Adam looked amused. “Ketchup, too?”
“Uh-huh. What did you have?”
“A spicy chicken melt and chips.”
William made a face. “I don’t like spicy food.”
“You’re studying,” Samantha said. When he nodded, she went on. “We’ll leave you to it, then. Come on, William, let’s find a table.”
She started to turn away from the man who made her long for things she couldn’t afford to want, but William dug in his heels and tugged on her coat.
“Wait, Mom! We can ask Adam right now.”
He would mention his dinner idea. “This isn’t a good time, William. Adam needs to study.”
Adam looked curious. “Ask me what?”
“To come to our house for dinner tonight!” William boomed.
The room grew noticeably quieter as nosey customers waited for Adam’s answer. Samantha’s face burned, and she knew she was blushing.
*
William’s very loud question had drawn interest from everyone within hearing distance, but Sam’s suddenly scarlet cheeks held Adam’s attention. He couldn’t help but remember her flushed skin after the kisses that had knocked his socks off.
What the hell was everyone staring at? He recognized some people but none well enough to know their names. He raised his eyebrows as in “butt out,” and they returned to their meals.
If Sam cooked half as well as she baked, dinner would be delicious. His unwanted lust for her made accepting the invitation a bad idea. But with William jumping up and down with excitement…. Adam hated to deflate the kid’s balloon.
Having suffered his own disappointment at his father’s earlier today, he knew how rotten that felt. Richard had been in rare form this morning, especially when Adam arrived empty-handed. After a restless night, he’d been in no mood to stop at Rosemary’s and pick up a muffin.
Big mistake. The old man had growled at him to go home and not to come back—ever—empty-handed.
Was that all he meant to his father—the bearer of treats?
Adam had had half a mind to do as Richard asked, leave and stay away. Instead, he’d sucked it up and cleaned the gutters as planned.
Not a word of thanks or a trace of a smile, just another scowl, deafening volume on the tube and a muttered good-bye. What had Adam expected?
He’d left with a scowl of his own, and more determined than ever to ace the written exam for lieutenant, get the promotion, and earn the old man’s respect.
Eager to grab lunch and hit the books, he’d chosen the Rogue, where he wouldn’t likely run into friends.
“Can you, Adam?” William prodded.
“Uh….” Not sure how to respond to the invitation, he looked to Sam for help.
“William spoke out of turn, Adam.”
The boy raised his hand. She frowned. “Why is your hand up?”
“I’m waiting for my turn.”
Adam chuckled. “Go ahead, William.”
“Can you please come over tonight? Please, please, please?”
Adam could see Sam was just as torn about dinner together. “Do you want me there?”
She brushed at something on her coat sleeve before she replied. “The thing is, we’re having a very simple meal that includes chicken, and you had a chicken sandwich for lunch. And it is Saturday night. I’m sure you have something else to do.”
Talk about excuses. She didn’t want him to come.
He was off the hook. Great. Still, it stung. Go figure.
He opened his mouth to explain that yeah, he did have plans and wouldn’t be able to make it, when she bit her lip and gave him a pleading look. “On the other hand, it would mean a lot to William if you joined us.”
The about-face surprised Adam, but he understood that dinner tonight wasn’t about him and Sam. This was about pleasing her son. Adam silently applauded her for caring so much about his happiness. The little guy didn’t realize how lucky he was.
Having heard Nate and Mello at Lucky Joe’s several times, Adam knew they wouldn’t start their gig until later in the evening. He could indulge the kid and still see the band. He nodded. “Sure, I can make dinner.”
As for his crazy attraction to Sam, as long as he focused on William instead of her, there was nothing to worry about.
“Awesome!”
The boy’s toothy smile made Adam feel ten feet tall. “What time?”
“William’s bedtime is seven-thirty, and my day started way before dawn, so it’s going to be an early night for us. We’ll sit down at six.”
“Eighteen-hundred hours. That’s when we eat at the station.”
“No…six o’clock,” William corrected.
Adam nodded. “They’re one and the same, only we use military time at the station.”
“What’s military time?”
Adam explained in simple terms, until William seemed satisfied. Knowing it would be an early night for Sam and the boy suited him just fine. “What can I bring?”
“Not a thing. I have everything we need. You’re sure you don’t mind chicken?”
“Nope. It’s one of my favorites. Why don’t I bring a bottle of wine? Red or white?”
“Either. I drink both.”
