Earlier that day, when she’d known Sam would be waiting for Gregory at the airport, she’d left Ruby with a neighbor who often babysat for her and called in a favor with that neighbor’s son. The older teenager had driven the mum-mobile to Sam’s place while she drove her car.
She’d loaded her and Ruby’s belongings into her car, pretending not to notice that Turbo and his bed had vanished from the front porch. Sam could return his fake family-man car, as he’d apparently returned his fake family-man dog, and she’d save him the effort of returning his fake family-man family, by doing it herself.
She’d driven home, unloaded all their gear from her little car, and then splashed her face with cold water since somehow her eyes had gotten red, watery, and puffy while she was completing the chore.
Vee started her little car and circled the parking lot to the exit. “Damn, but I earned it,” she muttered, waiting for a gap in the traffic.
But damned if she hadn’t paid a price that would bankrupt her heart for the next few months. Possibly years.
Maybe forever.
Sam ran his palm along the surfboard’s smooth lines and did his best not to imagine Vee bent over it. It wasn’t working too well.
After arriving home a couple of hours ago he’d found his life now resembled a bad country music song. The dog was gone. His cousin had picked Turbo up this morning. The car was gone. His uncle stopped by and took care of returning it. And not so surprisingly, though still a little, his woman had gone, too.
His woman.
He grunted to himself and stretched a kink out of his spine. Although the garage was cooler than the clear blue-sky day outside, a trickle of sweat work its way down his back. Good. Elbow grease was the best way to get his mind off the empty house and empty porch.
A car pulled into his driveway—no need to keep the gate closed now he didn’t have a toddler running around—and Sam squinted through the bright afternoon sunshine at it. The doors opened and Eric and his father stepped out.
Shit.
Gregory had been pleasant enough when Sam had picked him up from the airport, but he’d also been distracted, no doubt worried about his first and only grandkid. Now the vague, jet-lagged expression had resettled into one of complete focus, and it was a little unnerving to have that focus directed solely on him.
Sam straightened, swiping his hands on a clean rag before strolling out to meet the Wrights, his gut growing heavy as he tried to decipher their expressions.
“Julia and baby Moira okay?” he asked after he’d shaken both the Wrights’ hands.
“They’re doing well,” Eric said. “Julia’s resting and Dad’s convinced his new granddaughter smiled at him.”
Gregory chuckled. “Looked like the Wright smile to me.”
“Can I get you a beer or something?” Sam asked, then mentally kicked himself.
Gregory and Eric had no idea Vee had snuck into his house like a cat burglar and removed every last trace of herself and Ruby.
“Not for me,” Gregory said. “I’m just here to find out if there’s anything Eric and I can do to help you smooth things over with your bride-to-be. Saw her at the hospital earlier and she seemed to be hiding how upset she was.”
“Nah. We’re all good.” Sam winced. Dammit, she’d left him to deal with her absence, even though she’d taken the time to straighten his bed and toss Ruby’s single sheets into the washer. That didn’t make up for the gaping vacuum he felt walking through his now empty house.
“Really?” Eric glanced around the empty yard. “Because I don’t see Ruby’s toys scattered around the yard. And isn’t Turbo usually stretched out sunning himself on the porch?”
“Mmmm,” Sam said.
It was the only response he could give without opening his mouth and lying his ass off. Again. And he was getting damn tired of lying to people about him and Vee, and even more tired about lying to himself.
“Son?” Gregory slid his hands into his pants pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Your woman walking out on you is a wake-up call. Talking about it isn’t a sign of weakness.”
It was being called son that loosened Sam’s tongue. His dad was honest to the bone. Although Pete had never said outright that he disapproved of the plan to ensure the contract was signed, Sam knew his dad wasn’t on board.
Screw it.
“Vee isn’t my woman, my fiancée, or even my girlfriend. I lied to you both in order to convince you to sign the contract. I’m sorry.” Sam sucked in a breath and for the first time since Eric and Julia arrived it felt as if it finally reached the bottom of his lungs. “Getting her to pretend to be in my life for a week was my idea and no one else involved with Kauri Whare should be held accountable.”
Eric folded his arms and studied Sam, making him feel like a bug under a microscope. “But you’ve known her and her family for years; that part is true, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Since we were kids. She and my sister were best friends growing up.”
“I see,” the elder Wright said.
There was a world of judgment in Gregory’s voice and the weight of impending disaster sat on him like a boulder, crushing Sam’s spine. So many people relied on him and Kauri Whare. Uncle Manu, staff—from the boys in the workshops to Auntie Raewyn and her underlings in the showroom— whānau and extended whānau.
“And now the week is over, you asked her to leave?” Eric crooked an eyebrow.
“Not exactly,” admitted Sam. “She pretty much left on her own accord when I suggested we should renegotiate our agreement on account that you and Julia would be spending more time in Bounty Bay.”
“Please don’t tell me you used the words renegotiate our agreement to Vee?” Eric scrunched up his face and shot his father a pained look.
Sam cleared his throat. “Um. I sorta did.”
Gregory clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “As the younger generation would say, rookie mistake, young man. No wonder that pretty lady of yours exited stage right.”
Why were Gregory and Eric still going on about Vee? Did they not hear the part about him lying to them?
“Listen,” he said. “Vee only agreed to pretend to be my girlfriend because I dangled the lease to our new retail space under her nose. I put her in a position where she couldn’t say no. She hated lying because she quickly came to consider Julia a friend. I know she genuinely cares about you both and she’ll want to help you through the next few weeks or months any way she can. She’s an amazing woman.”
“You certainly seem to think so.” Gregory caught Eric’s eye and chuckled. “Should we let him off the hook? Or make him squirm a little longer?”
“It’s tempting to make him squirm, but I think the man’s suffered enough,” Eric said. “You do the honors, Dad.”
Sam’s gaze ping-ponged between the two Americans. What the hell were they talking about?
“Before Eric and Julia arrived in New Zealand, your father contacted me,” Gregory said.
Wait, what? “My father? Pete Ngata?”
“That’s how he introduced himself when my PA put him through,” Gregory said. “He told me what his boys—as he put it—were up to. Said he didn’t approve of their tactics, but he suspected there were some matters of the heart involved with the woman you’d coerced into helping.”
Sam blinked into the sunshine, wondering if he was having an audible hallucination. “Huh?”
For the life of him, nothing Gregory was saying made sense. Had the man known all along that he and Vee weren’t an item?
Eric took up where his dad left off. “Pete made it clear that you were a good businessman, just a little gun-shy around commitment, and that he’d long suspected there was something brewing between you and Vee.” Eric grinned. “He and Dad decided to let the situation play out. As an experiment.”
“An experiment,” Sam parroted faintly. Bloody hell.
Gregory’s expression sobered. “You may have misinterpreted an old man’s satisfaction of seeing strong foundation
al relationships flourish, to thinking this deal relied on you being committed to one woman. My son signing the contract had nothing to do with your relationship with Vanessa, even though it was apparent to both Julia and him that the two of you have a very strong connection.”
“Oh.” Sam still couldn’t think of what the hell to say.
“This week has shown Eric and myself how our decision to work with the Ngata family was the correct one,” Gregory said. “The hospitality you’ve shown my family can’t be faked, and the genuine care you’ve demonstrated for my daughter-in-law will never be forgotten.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder. “So take business off the table and where does that leave you with Vanessa?”
Sam grimaced. “Looking like a damn idiot.”
Eric laughed. “That’s all part of falling in love, buddy. Now how about that beer after all?”
“Coming right up.”
Grateful for the excuse, Sam headed for the bar fridge in the corner of his garage. Falling in love? Did falling in love make you feel like you had quicksand beneath your feet, a reaper’s blade swinging above your head, and a battalion of butterflies partying in your gut?
If so, he really was in deep, deep shit.
Chapter 17
Vee pulled up her big girl panties, metaphorically speaking, and took a big, somewhat calming breath as she sat inside her car in Kauri Whare’s crowded parking lot. She couldn’t justify another day slacking off from her duties at Bountiful, so she’d worked her tail off that morning in an effort to keep her hamster brain from running in circles around the problem that was Sam. But come lunchtime, she couldn’t put the confrontation off any longer. All her silly emotions aside, Natalie and Gracie and the rest of Bountiful’s employees deserved the opportunity Sam had promised.
So why did it feel so wrong, so terrifying, to ask for it?
She hadn’t been back to the hospital to see Julia, afraid she wasn’t nearly good enough of an actress to pull off the pretense that everything was A-OK between her and Sam for the second time.
Vee climbed out of her car and crossed to the path leading around to Sam’s workshop. Keeping a chin up, you can do this pep talk on replay in her mind, she smoothed down her carefully selected skirt and top. She’d spent way too long in front of the mirror this morning trying to hide the shadows under her eyes—not enough concealer in the world to do that—and to choose an outfit that said I really don’t care what you think about me and at the same time look at what you’re missing out on, lover boy.
She was still wondering if she should’ve worn flats instead of do-me heels when she nearly ran headlong into a woman stalking along the path toward her. The stalker blonde, Kimberly. One guess as to where she’d come from.
The woman did a double take at Vee as she came to an abrupt halt.
“You’re stupider than you look if you think Sam will ever settle down,” she said.
The woman did have a point.
“Are you all right, Kimberly?” She softened her voice because Vee recognized the glint of hurt beneath the venom in the other woman’s eyes. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Kimberly hadn’t received a warm welcome from Sam.
“Don’t pretend you care.” Kimberly stabbed a long red fingernail in Vee’s direction. “And don’t pretend that ring on your finger makes any difference. He’s still the same player he always was. A leopard doesn’t change its spots.”
Before Vee could respond, Kimberly stalked around her and kept walking.
Strangely, Vee actually felt better. She didn’t buy into the player label he’d been slapped with anymore, and if he didn’t change from the kind and generous man who made her laugh and made her nuts at the same time, she was okay with that. Because that was the young man she’d developed her first crush on, that was the grown man who’d stolen her heart.
With a lighter spring in her step, Vee continued on to Sam’s workshop. The door was closed—slammed closed by Kimberly, she imagined—and from inside a radio was tuned to a local rock station. She knocked on the door and pushed it open a moment later when there was no reply.
Warmth curled through her at the sight of Sam bent over the slab of kauri he was working on. He was shirtless and muscles rippled down his broad back as his chisel gouged into the wood. He wore cargo shorts that hung low on his hips and tight across his ass, and God help her but she wanted to run over and just touch him. Or something even more inappropriate such as unbuttoning his shorts. With her teeth.
He glanced up as the door clicked shut behind her, his brow creased in a frown, mouth twisted in a scowl, but both smoothing out once he nailed her to the spot with his intense gaze. “I thought you were Kimberly. I just told her to quit showing up at my workshop uninvited.”
He spoke quickly, as if he were offering her reassurance that nothing untoward had gone on.
“I saw her outside,” Vee said lightly. “She seemed to be a little…pissed off. You ruined her day.”
Sam set down his chisel and brushed his hands down his shorts, a sprinkling of sawdust and wood curls dropping to the floor at his boots. “I imagine I did, but you know there’s nothing going on between her and I, don’t you?”
Cocking a hip with an attitude she didn’t really feel, Vee folded her arms and stared down the slope of her nose. “The same way there was nothing going on between us?”
He covered the gap in long strides to where she leaned against the door, and braced his palms either side of her shoulders. “Oh, no, there’s something very definitely going on between us.”
His mouth curved up in a grin that said that what was going on between them was very, very naughty and she’d been a bad girl who needed to be put over his knee for a spanking.
And there he went, unintentionally distracting her from the more serious topic of the Wrights and the agreed upon lease of his new building.
“I wanted to apologize for storming off from you the other night,” she said.
Sam’s head jerked back a little, as if she’d surprised him.
“I should have stayed and discussed the situation with you like an adult.”
“I wasn’t exactly Mr. Maturity either.” He threw her a smile—this one sheepish—like a lifeboat. “Guess we bring out the best and the worst in each other.”
“I guess we do.”
Although that was hardly something to be proud of, was it? Her gaze locked onto the rise and fall of his chest, and the sheer delicious scent of him wrapping around her made her forget precisely what she had come there to discuss.
As if reading her mind, he skimmed a finger up her bare arm. She shivered, her mouth instinctively parting, tingling with the desire for him to press his lips to hers.
“Not for the first time you’ve beaten me in a footrace,” he said. “I was finishing up here, ready to come and find you to tell you some good news.”
“Good news?” She tilted her head.
His handsome face split into another grin—this one was his everything’s awesome, bro grin—the one anyone within a six-foot radius was helpless not to mimic just because that smile made a person feel good. Vee found herself grinning up at him, her heart pogo bouncing around her chest.
“Yeah.” He chuckled and held up a stop-sign palm. “Good news, but promise me you won’t shoot the messenger.”
Huh? Why would she shoot the messenger for good news? “Spill,” she said.
“Gregory and Eric know we aren’t a couple,” he said. “Thanks to my dad.”
It hit her like a bucket of freezing what the hell? “Your dad told them? When?”
“Get this.” He leaned in, like it was the best joke ever. “Dad rang Wright senior before his son even arrived in New Zealand.”
“Shut the front door and wait a bloody minute.” Vee shook her head to try and unscramble her racing thoughts. “Eric knew we were lying?” She could hear her voice rising higher and higher in pitch, but she couldn’t seem to bring the volume down. “And he didn’t think to call us out so two
strangers didn’t have to share the same bed?”
“It wasn’t all that bad, now was it?” Sam asked.
“Oh for—I can’t even.” Vee thunked a fist against the door behind her, making it rattle. “Just, ugh.” Humiliated didn’t cover it. “How is this good news?”
“I was getting to that,” he said. “The good news is the Wrights aren’t pissed off at us for lying about our relationship. No harm, no foul. We don’t have to pretend to be engaged.”
Oh. Well, then. Wasn’t that a delightful development?
A fist-sized pit dropped into her stomach. Something of that must’ve shown on her face as Sam leaned in again, cupping her jaw with one big palm.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.
“What did you mean?” Her mouth felt suddenly dry and her pulse rate tripled like a caffeine addict getting their first hit of the day. Addict as an analogy was too close to the bone. She wanted him to kiss her more than she wanted to breathe.
“I missed you.” His thumb caressed her cheekbone in a slow, sexy stroke. “Did you miss me?”
Only with an ache one would imagine losing a major organ would entail—like a heart, for example. And oh, she wanted to tell him that, but pride’s stubborn little head rose in her throat. “You’ve kinda grown on me. Like mold.”
He chuckled, laugh lines creasing his eyes because, dammit, he must know just how in over her head she was. She sagged against the door because her knees suddenly jellified.
Sam moved in even closer.
“Now that the Wrights aren’t an issue, we can pick up where we left off.” He dipped his head, replacing his lips where his thumb had touched and working his way down to her mouth with the lightest of kisses.
Gently nipping at her lower lip, he slid his fingers into her hair, cupping the base of her skull to angle her mouth into perfect alignment with his. She trembled under the first touch of his lips on hers, all her senses so tuned to the warm demands of his mouth that a hundred percent of her focus was on hunger. Her hunger for Sam. The musky-spiced smell of him, the prickle of stubble around his mouth, the confident dance of his tongue stroking hers. Nothing else mattered as he took their kiss from sweet to savage in a few heartbeats.
Break Your Heart_A Small Town Romance Page 22
