“What? No!” She suddenly laughed and pulled the confused receptionist in for a hug. “Sorry. I didn’t think about how this would look.”
“Ryan, is he in on it too?”
“Well, not to begin with,” she quickly assured the angry mom. “Even though this is a setup, it wasn’t a setup if you follow my winding logic. Ryan did a good thing for Chelsea, and I’m the one who pushed our way in uninvited.”
Samantha threw her hands up, and in an exasperated tone, she cried, “Am I missing something?”
Time for a tiny arrow, Jen thought as she searched for the easiest way to explain. John’s quirks required so much patience that it seemed only fair to bring Samantha up to speed and hope she wasn’t deploying this arrow too soon.
“Do you like John, Samantha? And I don’t mean as a boss. He’s a man. A slightly awkward, good-hearted, unaware grown-up. Does any of that float your boat?”
Samantha’s startled gaze and immediate blush was the only answer she needed. Bull’s-eye!
“Jen, come on. He’s John Lloyd, for heaven’s sake.”
“Yeah? So?”
“I don’t know what to say,” Samantha murmured.
She laughed. “Is this is where you hand me a bunch of drivel about being a single mom and how he’s out of your league?”
Samantha shrugged. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
With a drawn-out sigh, Jen lowered her voice and asked a straightforward question.
“When is the last time you went on a date?”
“I think you already know the answer,” was her terse, sad reply.
She nodded her understanding. It was just as Jen thought. After her the untimely passing of Chelsea’s father, Samantha had more than likely channeled her grief into a source of strength so she could survive a lonely delivery and an uncertain future. Being young, pregnant, and alone by no fault of her own had to have sucked, big time.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Samantha. You’re a big girl, and I think you can handle some bold truth. Am I right?”
“Go for it,” the brunette said with a smirk.
“I don’t think John Lloyd has ever been on a date. Not in the classic sense but you catch my drift, right?” She didn’t wait for a reaction and plowed ahead.
“He likes you. More than a lot. But he’s a freakin’ mess on his best day.”
Samantha sniggered, crossed her arms, and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve noticed how you coach him.”
She laughed too. “Actually, I’m just trying to teach him the rules of the road. He’s not a moron, Sam. He knows how to drive, but his mind is so focused on the practical stuff that he totally misses all the road signs.”
“Wow. Nobody ever calls me Sam anymore.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. It slipped out. My bad.”
“No, no. It’s okay,” she assured Jen. “I like hearing it. Sometimes we have to be so rigid and uncompromising to get ahead. The cards are stacked against us. As women, nicknames can sometimes hinder any hope of being taken seriously.”
“Truth.” Jen snorted.
Samantha leaned her hips against the vanity counter and studied her feet for a minute. “Okay. Let me see if I have this straight.”
She chortled at the pithy, dry tone Samantha used. Jen inspected her appearance in the mirror. Decked out in standard office attire, she was overdressed for a museum crawl and her feet were killing her. It was one thing to navigate a regular day in heels, and another thing altogether to tromp around a huge museum in the unsuitable footwear. She glanced sideways at Samantha and noted her stern but amused expression as she laid out the facts as she saw them.
“So John Lloyd ... THE John Lloyd ... likes me. Do I have that part right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she replied. “More than a lot. Don’t forget that part.”
“Right,” Samantha murmured. “He likes me a lot. And he’s a bit of a Sheldon in public.”
“Sheldon?”
“Yeah. The nerdy physicist in Big Bang? The one who doesn’t do well in social settings?”
“Oh, right, right. Ah, ha-ha! That’s funny.”
“And for reasons I’ll never understand, you say he doesn’t date even though he’s easy on the eyes.”
She arched a brow and mockingly reminded Samantha that even with all his issues, John was a man. He wasn’t a man-whore—though she didn’t use that word— but he had a never-ending choice of society cougars and scheming gold diggers to meet his needs. No matter how you put it, that stuff wasn’t dating. Period.
When she was sure Samantha understood what she was saying, she gave her an important piece of information and waited for her reaction.
“We ambushed you today because when John didn’t find you at work, he became rather agitated.”
When Samantha’s expression mirrored shock and interest, Jen decided to focus on John and kept to herself that she and Ryan had conspired prior to this morning.
“And so you know, Samantha. He’s very aware of Chelsea. He was beside himself with worry on the way over here because he thought she wouldn’t like him.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“So you tracked us down when John got, um, agitated?”
Fast thinking saved the day. “Actually, I’d texted Ryan earlier to ask a question, and he volunteered the details of your outing. It was all me after that.”
“I see.”
The single mom hadn’t run screaming, and so far, she hadn’t tried to rip Jen’s face off, so she tossed out a quick couple of fact bombs to sweeten Samantha’s perspective.
“When I told him we could tag along on Ryan’s field trip, he spent ten minutes in the restroom deciding between tie or no tie.” She held up her hand and said, “Truth,” when Samantha snorted in disbelief.
“And he barely blinked when I had his secretary,Anne, push off an important lunch meeting. For John, that says a lot.”
“Oh, Jen. Dammit,” Samantha cried. “I like him too but there’s Chelsea and work and well, his mom. I’m a receptionist with a community college degree. I’ve got a seven-year-old and have never owned a new car let alone a house. I clip coupons and sold my grandmother’s fancy china to afford a trip to Disneyworld. All I see are roadblocks, and to be honest, I’m a giant coward. Love and heartache? I can write the damn book. I’m not sure I have what it takes.”
The poor woman’s voice had risen steadily until it shook with emotion. Jen was even more sure her cupid instincts were on target because from her spot in the cheap seats, John and Samantha were a perfect match.
“You need to relax,” she chided. With a sly chuckle, she asked, “Did you notice how easily John and Chelsea hit it off?” Jen elbowed Samantha teasingly. “Chelsea’s natural curiosity and John’s straightforward pragmatism found common ground in the museum.”
“That’s true,” Samantha murmured. Her voice expressed a feeble hope that made Jen’s heart sing with joy.
With no prelude, Samantha gathered her into a big hug. “Thank you. Even if this is a huge disaster, thank you for caring.”
7
Ryan looked around and concluded Applebee’s might never recover from the sprawling takeover their party of five visited on the dining room. He and John shoved tables around as the girls gave directions and the wait staff chuckled. And that was just the start.
When it was time to order, he and his brother did dueling menus and ended up getting a little of everything. Before long, appetizers, salads, and burgers crowded their table, as well as a family-size platter of nachos that was devoured to the last piece.
Swirling a straw in his glass of iced tea, Ryan thought, This is good. Seeing John loosen up and really enjoy himself gave him a great deal of satisfaction.
His eyes slid to the woman seated between him and John. From all outward appearances, Jen Carlton seemed calm and collected. Not a single strand of hair was out of place, and though the rest of them were lounging around doing the ‘I ate too much’ slouch, sh
e was her usual prim, proper self.
But he’d been watching her all day, and her prissy starchiness didn’t fool him. Not when he knew damn well she was suffering from sore feet and an aching back. While everyone else was dialed high on the enthusiasm meter, she’d remained stoic and steered the conversation while babysitting John’s every burp and smelly wind gust. She had to be fucking exhausted, but you’d never know that from how she behaved.
He started wondering what it’d take to get an uncalculated and random reaction out of her. No way was she like this all the time.
Jen kept an eye on the animated discussion John, Samantha, and Chelsea had while absently pushing around the cherries in her soda with a straw.
Casually leaning his elbows on the table, Ryan held his drink with both hands and turned to her. In a quiet murmur, he chuckled and said, “Oh, lord. Talking about NASA and the International Space Station is John’s siren’s song! Once he starts, there’s no end in sight.”
Jen’s chest appeared to move as if she’d laughed at his comment, but no actual sound came out. He wanted to rattle her control so damn badly.
“Hey, wanna have some fun?”
She smirked and gave him a healthy dose of side-eye. “What are you up to?”
He answered with a look of affronted innocence. “Why so suspicious? What have I ever done to you?”
The fastest blush in history shot onto her cheeks and made him pause. Something that felt a lot like lust fired up inside and made Ryan shift in his seat.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she grated in an annoyed voice.
Ryan shrugged off her terse words and answered a bit more directly than he intended or she imagined—shocking them both.
“I was thinking about kissing you.”
“Excuse me?” she quietly growled.
Yep. Kissing. That was what Jen Carlton and her sexy mouth needed. Lots and lots of kissing.
She was already eyeing him up for the fastest way to rip off his head, so he went for broke.
“How do you like it?” he asked quietly so no one else heard.
“Like what?” she snapped at him, but her telltale blush deepened.
“To be kissed.” He shifted and slightly turned, leaning an elbow on the table and putting his other hand on the back of her chair. He’d effectively caged her in, and he could see her reaction in her rapid breathing.
“Do you like the chaste approach? Just lips. What about tongue? Do you prefer to taste or be tasted?”
There was no denying her expression turned him on as he deliberately taunted her. She gave off an intriguing combination of clueless shock and something else. Something sultry and dangerous.
Ryan drank it all in. Her reaction. His interest. After a subtle shift, a whole host of feelings clashed in his gut. In one second, what began as interest turned to seething possessive desire.
He wanted Jenna Carlton. Wanted to shatter her controlled façade and see if she was capable of being a purring sex kitten. Or a ferocious feline with claws and a spine-tingling yowl.
He read her expression and saw she was deciding which snarky putdown to lob at him, so he moved his hand—the one on the back of her chair—and casually stroked her back between the shoulder blades. It didn’t matter that one of her business suits of armor prudishly covered her. He picked up her physical response to his caress.
This was the wrong place and the wrong time, but sometimes, the impulse was so fierce that reason took a hike.
“Have you ever studied Tantra?” He brushed his fingers along the back neckline of her jacket. “By taking things slow and delaying gratification, a deeper connection is possible.”
A subtle shiver worked its way through her body. She lowered her head, and he heard her hiss a second before she bit her lip.
“Stop,” she demanded. “Just stop.”
Chelsea’s animated laughter and John’s chuckle cut through the haze of sexual desire gripping Ryan. He shook his head and sat back, making no attempt to quiet his annoyed grunt.
“It’s my first time in a limo,” the little girl squealed with childish delight. “Mandy Owen will be so jelly! Her uncle rented an old car for her birthday. This is way cooler.”
Samantha’s amused laugh rang out. “Now, honey. You know we don’t go around trying to make our friends jealous.”
Ryan chuckled when Chelsea pouted. Nothing like a mom reminder to spoil a kid’s fun. Then mom changed tactic and giggled like a kid.
“But it is cool, right? I mean, come on! A limo and a driver?”
Mom and daughter fist bumped, put their heads together, and laughed.
John—a relaxed and happy version of his brother—laughed at their show of silly solidarity. The sleeves of his shirt rolled back, he’d left his usually omnipresent suit coat in the back of the limo.
Ryan enjoyed the camaraderie the three were developing, and it was all great fun until his brother said a stupid and the tone of the conversation changed.
“How would you like to take the limo to school every day? That sounds like fun, right? It could be easily done.”
The whole table went silent. Well, the adults fell silent. Chelsea went ape-shit over the idea.
Jen jumped in headfirst. No surprise there.
“He’s just kidding. Aren’t you, John?” She drily teased, but Ryan detected the tinge of warning meant for his brother.
“Aw, really?” Chelsea whined.
John looked a bit stunned and unsure, so Ryan went into damage control mode too.
“Well, I’m sure your mom wouldn’t mind the limo as something special for your birthday. Right, Mom?”
Poor John, was all he could think as Samantha’s face paled, and a pinched, tightness appeared around her mouth. She was a strong single parent trying to do all the right things, totally alone. Waving a limousine in a seven-year-old’s face had been a dumbass move on John’s part.
“We’ll discuss it,” Samantha agreed with zero enthusiasm.
Jen took control and made everything right again.
“Do you know why John has a limo?”
Chelsea responded with a kid smirk. “I don’t know. Because he’s rich?”
Before Samantha could reprimand her daughter for being honest, Jen talked right over her and gave Chelsea Matthews something to think about that all the parental lectures on the planet couldn’t have done.
“Actually,” Jen said with a smile, “John’s a very busy man. Hundreds and hundreds of people, even some moms and dads, depend on him every day to do his very important job. When someone else drives, he can make phone calls and answer emails. Stuff like that. Important stuff.”
Chelsea listened attentively. So did Ryan.
“School is the important job that you do every day, Chelsea. How do you get there?”
“I ride the bus,” she answered.
“And what do you do on the bus?”
She thought for a moment and said, “That’s when we all talk. My friends. We talk on the bus.”
“And is that important? To talk with your friends?”
“Uh-huh,” Chelsea assured Jen. “We get in trouble for talking in class. Bus talks are fun.”
Ryan sat back with a silent chuckle. Damn! Jen Carlton was good!
“Well, there’d be no bus talks if you rode in a limousine every day. John gets work done during his ride. Your work is riding on the bus and talking with your friends. Understand?”
The kid understood more than anyone expected ’cause she suddenly looked at John and reached out to touch his hand.
“Do you get lonely in your limo?”
His brother looked like he might cry. “No. Not really. At least, not until recently.” John looked directly at Samantha. “Now, I’m not so sure.”
“Mom,” Chelsea exclaimed. “Maybe you can ride with Mr. Lloyd and talk so both of you won’t be lonely anymore.”
Ryan couldn’t believe any of this. Not Jen and her obvious matchmaking or Chelsea with her nail-on-the-h
ead comments. The types only an innocent would think to say.
John froze. He’d totally screwed up the good thing they’d had going on with his dumbass limo offer and only Jen’s quick mediation had saved him from crashing and burning. But Chelsea’s reaction pushed him into a free fall.
She was just being an adorable kid, but her words held more truth than anyone knew.
Was his limo life existence lonely?
Yes. Yes, it was, but until he’d stopped ignoring his growing feelings for Samantha, he hadn’t thought a substantive change in the status quo was possible. Or wise.
Now, without ever having been on a date together, he was sure he found a reason to rejoin the human race. Samantha Matthews with her dangerous curves and pretty smile. Samantha. Beautiful, kindhearted, funny, and sweet Samantha.
And her wonderful daughter.
For them, he was willing to try.
Say something, his inner guide shouted. Don’t just let shit happen. Jen won’t always be there to clean up your messes.
“Um, how do you do it, Samantha?” he asked. “Make it all work,” he explained. “Getting Chelsea on the bus every day and yourself to work.”
It was a real question he wanted an honest answer to.
Samantha’s first response was disheartening. She pursed her lips and said, “We manage.”
To be honest, he wasn’t at all annoyed when Jen spoke.
“John is quite interested in youth after-school programs. Did you know?” she asked of Samantha with a direct gaze. “He sponsors an inner city initiative committed to providing safe, healthy care options for working parents. Child care doesn’t end with preschool.”
“I didn’t know that,” Samantha murmured. She looked at him long and hard. He swallowed with difficulty and felt his heart thump in his chest. Whatever test she was mentally subjecting him to, he sure hoped he passed with flying colors.
Speaking softly, he asked, “Do you have a car?”
Chelsea had the answer. “Cars are unpackable in a city.” She nodded and looked around for everyone’s agreement.
“Impractical,” Samantha interjected. “Cars are impractical.” She looked at Chelsea for a long time too and then explained a little of her personal life. Enough for John to know his emotions were involved in every word she said.
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