“He wouldn’t let her live in his mother’s home.” Vivian smiled then tucked her lips between her teeth as if she were hiding it. “Frank Monroe is a man of his word. If he said he’d marry a woman it would be for life—even if he decided later she wasn’t who he thought she was.”
Penelope looked up at her. “She scares me.”
“Don’t let her. Frank would never let her do anything to harm you. And she wouldn’t. She might make it hard on you, but she wouldn’t hurt you.”
Vivian picked up the keys and held them in her hand.
“What do you say we go check out our new business location?”
Sam watched as Vivian’s cheeks lifted and lightness danced in her eyes. Frank Monroe might have just made up for his son’s shortcomings.
But if Sam remembered the house correctly, these women had a lot of work ahead of them. He knew a thing or two about home improvements. This might just be his excuse to get more involved.
He looked toward Amelia who seemed to be deep in thought. What possibly could have happened between the time he left her bed and now?
Chapter Fifteen
The three women stood in front of the house looking up. The white picket fence in the front yard was falling apart and the gate hung by only one hinge.
Paint peeled from the house, the mail box stood at an angle, and the windows had a hundred-year fog covering them.
Penelope shifted a glance between Vivian and Amelia. “I’ll bet it was lovely.”
Amelia looked toward Vivian who was smiling. “It is.” She looked at them. “C’mon, it’s old. It needs some love, but look at the possibilities.” Her voice was airy and full of promise, but Amelia looked back at the house and didn’t see it.
“Maybe we’d better go in and look,” she offered and Vivian headed toward the door.
Moving the broken gate, Vivian waited for the others to catch up to her. She took each step of the porch slowly as they creaked beneath her.
Taking the keys from her pocket, she slid it into the lock on the door.
“Okay, here we go.” She turned the lock and pushed open the door.
The three women stepped in and stood silently.
Vivian had been right. The inside was amazing—or might have been a hundred years ago.
The entry gave to a hallway and a set of stairs. To each side of the entry there were enormous rooms.
“I think this one was the dining room.” Vivian pointed to the left. “And over here was the sitting room, living room, it goes back to the library. But it all circles around to the kitchen. The whole floor flows.” She walked toward the sitting room. “There are these,” she began to pull a large wooden door from the wall. “Pocket doors.”
“Oh, my!” Penelope’s eyes opened wide. “Look how beautiful they are.”
“They’re original,” Vivian said as she pushed it back into place.
The three of them walked through the house in a huddle. Each room had some furniture, the floors were bare, and the air thick with Oklahoma red dust.
Vivian had something to say about each room. She’d remembered being there when Adam’s grandmother had been alive. “It was this dusty then too,” she snickered.
The kitchen was a different story. Where the other rooms had been left in their nearly natural state, the kitchen had been remodeled sometime in the 1970’s.
Amelia laughed. “Is that an avocado green refrigerator?”
“I’m sure it doesn’t work,” Vivian said.
“I’d be afraid to see what lived in it.”
The walls had orange and brown patterns. The light fixture over the eating area was citrine glass. The mosaic tile of the back splash was—well—hideous, Amelia thought.
“If we use this for the daycare center this will all have to be industrial,” Amelia offered.
“Thank God!” Penelope burst out, then covered her mouth. “Sorry.” She looked at Vivian. “The house is wonderful.”
Vivian let out a laugh. “It’s horrible. But it’s free. Free is good.”
“It’s going to cost a lot to fix it,” Amelia added.
“Yep. But can’t you see what it could be?”
Amelia couldn’t, but she’d seen what Vivian had done with the shack she lived in. She could only imagine that tucked into her pocket there were rose colored glasses. But Amelia would just have to take Vivian’s word on it. To her, a bulldozer seemed more appropriate.
They started up the stairs to the second level. Each step creaked under them.
“These are safe aren’t they?” Penelope asked.
“You’re fine,” Vivian said as she brushed cobwebs from in front of her.
The second floor had four bedrooms. One shared a Jack and Jill bathroom. The other two had a bathroom down the hall.
“I’m guessing these bathrooms might have been old closets?” Amelia said as she looked inside. She realized that the bathroom in her small condo had been twice the size of the one she was looking at.
“Remember how old it is,” Vivian said, her voice still dancing with enthusiasm.
Penelope pointed to the ceiling. “What’s that?”
“You pull it down and it’s stairs to the attic. There’s just junk up there if I remember right. We’ll go through it some other time.”
They made their way back downstairs and then to the basement. There wasn’t much there but a furnace that took up most of the space.
When they were back on the main floor they stood in the entry and all looked around in different directions.
Amelia didn’t know what to make of it. She didn’t even know where they’d begin. Penelope, she knew, would just go along with whatever anyone told her. Vivian, on the other hand, wore a smile of satisfaction as if she could see every detail.
One thing was for sure, this would give them some bonding time and perhaps some healing time too.
Amelia hadn’t known she’d needed it until she’d spoken to Penelope on the phone the night before. Now, she ached for it.
~*~
Sam paced the floor in his kitchen with his cell phone in his hand. The three of them had headed toward the old house around eleven o’clock and it was now six. He hadn’t heard anything from Amelia. It was beginning to kill him.
He’d brought her contact information up on his screen four times already with anticipation of hitting the call button. He’d written six texts, but he hadn’t sent them.
There was no reason he couldn’t just go over to her hotel. Just a friendly invite to dinner—right?
Stalker. He was becoming a stalker.
Sitting at the kitchen table he rested his head on his hand. There was an ache that consumed him when he thought of her. How could a man like Adam Monroe not want to be with her all the time? What could drive a man away from her?
Another hour passed and there still had been no call or text. He couldn’t wait anymore. He picked up his phone and just as he pushed the button to call her, the phone rang in his hand.
“Hello?” He was too anxious. He was going to sound desperate.
“Hi.” Her voice was soft and hollow. “Are you home?”
“Yeah.” He tried to sound casual. “Is everything okay?”
“I just need you. If that’s alright.”
He almost asked if it was really Amelia on the phone. He couldn’t imagine the woman he was involved with could sound so broken.
“I’ll be here. Come over any time.”
“Thanks.”
The line went dead. He tucked his phone into his pocket and walked to the refrigerator for a beer. Just as he twisted off the top his doorbell rang.
He stood there for a moment and contemplated even answering it. He wanted his evening free for Amelia.
As he walked to the door he took a sip of his beer. She’d called him. She needed him. That had given him a warm feeling throughout his body. He could do with being needed.
He was more than a little surprised to find Amelia standing on the doorstep.
“I’m sorry,” she started and that alone threw him. She wasn’t one to apologize easily. “I was parked out front.”
“You could have just come to the door.” He stepped back and let her through.
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
Sam shut the door and turned to touch her arm. “You could never be a bother to me.”
Amelia looked at his beer. “Can I have one of those?”
“Sure.” He handed her the one in his hand. “I just opened this.”
She accepted it and took a long pull from it. “Thanks. Are you alone?”
Sam narrowed his gaze. “Of course. Who would be here?”
“I don’t know. I’ve only been around this town a week. I don’t know what history you have with anyone. I don’t know who Adam has or hasn’t pissed off. People know I’m new in town, but as of yet they haven’t figured out who the hell I am, but with three of us toting around the same last name…” she blew out a breath. “I guess I have a lot on my mind.”
“Do you want to sit down and talk? I have some left over spaghetti from lunch I was going to warm up for dinner. I’d share.”
Her eyes softened as she smiled. “I’d like that.”
Sam took her hand in his, interlaced their fingers, and walked her to the kitchen.
Amelia sat down at the table and drank from her beer. Sam took out the leftovers and another beer for himself.
“So how was the house?” he asked as he put the spaghetti into a bowl.
“It’s decrepit, but Vivian sees great promise in it.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Sure. I don’t see it, but as long as she does.”
Sam hit the buttons on the microwave and turned back to her. “I’ve been known to get my hands dirty. I’d be happy to help you all out when you’re ready to dig in.”
Amelia laughed as she pressed the bottle to her lips. “You’ve done a project like this before?”
So, she did think he was only a nerd. He knew that look. “You’d be surprised what I can do if you give me time to show you.”
Her eyes grew darker with his statement. It was a look he appreciated more than the dazed and confused one she’d walked in with.
When the microwave beeped, Sam carefully took out the bowl. He divided it into two more bowls, dug forks from the drawer, and set one bowl in front of her.
“Thanks.”
He sat down in the chair next to her. “You know I can cook a decent meal.” He grinned. “When I have groceries that is. Maybe this weekend we could grill something.”
She licked her lips. “I’d really like that.”
Sam twirled his spaghetti on his fork and watched as she pushed hers around in the bowl.
“So, what’s got you so upset?”
Amelia’s head snapped up and he suddenly wasn’t sure he liked the way he’d posed the question. A moment later she was looking at the bowl again.
“I have all these girlie emotions running through me and I don’t know what the hell to do with them.”
Sam stopped chewing and watched her. Swallowing hard he picked up his beer and took a sip.
“I’ve had the opportunity to get to know you really well. Under all of those sleek muscles, you’re all girl. What part of that can’t you handle?”
She let out a grunt of a laugh then set her fork in the bowl and rested her elbows on the table.
“Last night when I was talking to Penelope on the phone she sounded so…content. I told her I got us a room until the townhouse was ready, but she’s happy with Vivian.”
“But that’s good.”
“Yes. I got jealous. I mean…me…I don’t do that.”
Sam tried not to smile, but he couldn’t help it. “It’s okay. You and Penelope bonded, why shouldn’t she bond with Vivian?”
“Because I haven’t.” She picked up her beer and took a long drink. “She said she thought they were becoming friends and she thought Vivian needed one. Well for some reason it chapped my hide. It was dumb. It was petty, but it ate at me all night.”
“Is that why you were so short this morning with everyone?”
Amelia shrugged her shoulders. “I talked to Penelope before we got to your office. I told her that today we should look for a doctor.” She let out a sigh. “I guess Vivian took her to her doctor on Friday when I was in Atlanta. The baby is doing great.”
Sam reached for her hand. “Honey…”
“I’m fine.” She pulled her hand back. “I told you. I don’t know what to do with all of this.” She took a fork full of noodles and shoved them in her mouth. “She’s nearly through her first trimester,” she said while chewing. “In six months there will be another of Adam’s babies in this world.”
“And he or she will be born to a loving mother.”
“I know. Son-of-a-bitch, she doesn’t deserve to do this alone.”
God, he just wanted to scoop her up and hold her. She was out of sorts. At that moment he was grateful to have had two older sisters too.
“She’s not alone. She has the two of you,” he said softly. “You’re not going to let her down.”
“I know that Vivian’s girls will love the baby too. She’s trying to decide how to tell them that the baby is their sister or brother.”
“She’ll figure it out in time.”
Amelia took another bite and then another. Sam smiled as he took a drink from his beer. “Feeling a little better?”
“I don’t know. I hate even getting worked up over any of it.”
“You’re entitled.” He reached for her hand again and this time she locked fingers with him. “Stay tonight.”
“I don’t…”
“I know. You don’t think it’s a good idea. But you’re going to tell Vivian about us anyway, right?”
She bobbed her head around. “Yes,” she finally said, but the tone was more in agreement toward him and not the sigh of an answer from a woman who believed it.
“There is an us that goes deeper than bed, right?”
“Sam…”
“I’ve been clear about that, now you need to be.” His voice rose higher than he’d have liked it to, but he didn’t want to be used any more than she did.
“I’ll tell her,” Amelia snapped out.
“That’s not my point anymore. Tell me I’m not just someone you’re using to forget what your husband did to you.”
Her eyes opened wide and she ripped her hand from his. “Is that what you think?”
“I’m not getting much feedback to prove me wrong.”
“I fell in love with a man once and look where that got me.”
Sam let out a laugh. “I don’t see it landing you anywhere you didn’t choose to stay. You had a home. You had other acquaintances in Atlanta. Hell you have one freaking nice ride if you want it.” He motioned toward the driveway with his hand.
“Acquaintances? Are you kidding me?” She was on her feet now and he followed right behind her.
“All I know is when you’re around me I can’t think straight. My body gets all crazy. My mind buzzes. I sit here waiting for you to call.” He hadn’t meant to say that part. She didn’t need to know he waited for her. “You’re not the only one who’s been in love before and gotten screwed over or it didn’t work out. I may not have had sex with anyone else in over a year, but I’ve been in love before. And this is better. Which leads me to believe that I’m…”
She pressed her hand to his mouth to stop him from talking.
“Don’t. Don’t you go there.”
He pulled her hand down. “Why not?”
“Just don’t.” Amelia picked up her beer, finished it, and set it back down. “I should go.”
“Fine.”
Her eyes grew wide as if she hadn’t expected him to agree.
“Thanks for dinner.” She turned and walked to the door.
There was something now that buzzed through him and it was totally different. As much as he wanted her there, wanted her to
sleep in his arms and to make love to her all night, he had to let her walk away.
He knew it wasn’t forever, but as the door closed behind her, he felt sick.
Time. She needed time. Even though she might not admit it, she was a mourning widow. But Sam had no intentions of being the transitional person.
Chapter Sixteen
Vivian had dropped the girls off at the recreation center’s drop-in daycare and then made a stop at Sam’s office. He was in a cross mood and he wondered if either of the women in his presence would know why.
“Everything is signed over with the house. You officially own it. It’s zoned for both business and residential. You’ll have some taxes due on it soon.” He swallowed hard. “I can help you with that if you need me to. I also have a friend who would like to look at the car. I told him to come by and see it since it’s still in my driveway and has been for a week.”
He said a little oath in his head. Now they knew he was upset as they exchanged looks.
“I should have moved it to my house,” Vivian said. “I’m sorry it’s in your way.”
“It’s not. I’m having a Monday, that’s all.” He pulled his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I had told Amelia I could come help at the house too. I’ve done my share of home improvements.”
The women exchanged looks again. “She mentioned that,” Vivian said. “She’s been working on the fence out front and the yard. She said if we gave it some curb appeal we’d feel better about walking in the front door.”
Sam smiled. “She’s right.” He sat back in his chair. “The owner of the garden shop is an old friend. I think maybe I’ll pay her a visit and drop by some bedding plants. She hasn’t planted anything yet has she?”
Penelope shook her head. “It’s been really hot.”
“I’ll find something hearty.”
Vivian looked at her watch. “I have to get the girls.” She stood from her seat. “This drop in daycare stuff is nice. I think we should offer it,” she said toward Penelope as she picked up her purse and walked out of the office.
Penelope moved to stand, then instead leaned back in her chair and placed her hands on her stomach.
Sam lurched forward. “Is everything okay?”
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