Who knew a player like Sam could be so perceptive? That was unexpected. And she wasn’t sure what to say. Faith stood and started consolidating their paper plates and set as much as possible on the large platter he’d used for the hot dogs and hamburgers. Her mind raced while her hands were busy.
He wasn’t wrong and saying he was would be a lie. That’s something she wouldn’t do. Being on the receiving end of lies wasn’t fun and she promised herself a long time ago not to do it.
“Look, Sam, before you go all Dr. Phil on me, I’ll admit that I did have a bad experience with love.” And she didn’t just mean her ex-husband.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Only if you want to share why you’re a confirmed bachelor.”
He stood to help gather jars of condiments and plastic bags of buns. “Not particularly.”
“Okay, then. Details aren’t important. I just want you to know that I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Don’t take it personally.”
“Deal.”
His compliance took the wind out of her sails. Part of her had been tensed for a disagreement and she was a little annoyed that he’d removed any ammunition. Once again he was reasonable and rational, another positive trait to add to the list that included charming, sweet, sensitive and the ever-popular sexy.
That didn’t leave her a lot of room for denial. So she was going to focus on being grateful for his friendship and avoid all situations that could result in him hugging her.
* * *
Sam didn’t regret his promise that Faith and Phoebe could stay with him as long as they wanted. He only regretted that the temptation to kiss the sassy, sexy single mom increased in direct proportion to the number of days she’d been under his roof. It had been three nights and they were working on number four. The evacuation order was still in place because stubborn winds refused to die down. The firefighters couldn’t guarantee the flames wouldn’t double back and, in an abundance of caution, they were keeping everyone out. That meant there was no way to find out whether or not Faith had a home to go back to.
There was nothing to do but wait. He could tell that was easier when work kept her occupied but she was off on this hot, early August Sunday. He had a pool and her eight-year-old daughter was having a blast in it. For the better part of two hours Sam had been keeping her busy with water games to take her mind off the fire. Unfortunately it didn’t take his mind off Faith, who was sitting under one of the umbrellas he’d put up poolside, pretending to read a book. Big sunglasses hid her eyes, but he was pretty sure she’d been watching him. Because she hardly ever turned a page.
“Sam, I’m going to win again.” Phoebe was standing in the shallow end of the pool on the opposite side of a net he’d put up for water volleyball.
“Then you’re obviously cheating.”
“No, I’m not.” This child could do self-righteous indignation like nobody’s business. “My mom says it’s wrong to cheat. Right, Mommy?”
Faith acted as if she was pulled away from the story, but the small smile on her face had been there at the cheating remark. “That’s right. Connellys always play fair and cheaters never prosper.”
“See?” Phoebe turned back to him, a triumphant look on her face.
“Well, if you’re not cheating then I must be really bad at this game.”
“You’re not that bad. Maybe you just need more practice.” There was an encouraging tone in her voice that was probably something she’d picked up from her mom. “I can help you anytime.”
Said the child who’d declared he was important to her, and not just because she liked his pool. “I just might take you up on that.”
“If you want we could just play catch now,” she offered.
“That’s very nice of you.”
“Mommy says we should be nice to everyone, even if they’re not nice to us.” She threw the ball to him.
It fell far short of his position so he moved forward. “How could anyone not be nice to you?”
“You should ask Billy Owens. He’s mean.”
“Who is he and what did he do?” Protective instincts Sam didn’t even know he had kicked in.
“He’s a boy at camp and he pulls my hair sometimes.”
“Did you tell one of the camp counselors?” The phrasing of that question was so much more diplomatic than the one he really wanted to ask, which was: Did you or someone else beat the crap out of him?
“I talked to Miss Brenda.”
“What happened?” Sam asked, holding on to the ball as he waited for an answer.
“She had a talk with him. But he did it again and called me a narc. What is a narc anyway?”
Technically it was ratting someone else out, but she had confided in a counselor which was the right thing to do. Narc made it ugly and he didn’t want her to know about that. To stall for time, he tossed her the ball, deliberately sending it behind her so she’d have to swim for it.
“Wow, you really need practice throwing, Sam.”
“I know.” He saw Faith watching him, a smile on her face.
“So what happened when Billy pulled your hair again?”
“Mr. Dixon saw him do it and he had to sit on the bench when we went swimming.” Her grin was filled with satisfaction, but who could blame her? “He really likes swimming in the lake.”
“I’m glad he got what was coming to him.” Sam lunged for the ball when she tossed it off to his right.
“And he had to say he was sorry.”
“Good, the little jerk had it coming—”
“Phoebe,” Faith interrupted, “you’ve been in the pool long enough.”
“No, I haven’t.” There was a definite whine in her tone. “Me and Sam are having fun. And I’m helping him practice. Right, Sam?”
“You need to come out and rest.” Faith saved him from getting caught in the middle. “No argument, young lady, or you will be the one sitting on the bench.”
He was right. Faith had been paying attention to every word. Hopefully he’d passed inspection. After all, he’d really wanted to call that kid something far worse than jerk.
“O-okay.” Phoebe dropped the ball in the water and dramatically dragged herself up the steps and out of the pool.
After wrapping her daughter in a big fluffy towel, Faith handed one to Sam.
“Thanks,” he said.
“It’s the least I can do since you entertained her all afternoon. I know it was to keep her from thinking about what’s going on.”
“Glad to help. And I didn’t mind. It was fun.” He dragged the thick terry cloth over his face and hair. After drying off, he pulled on his T-shirt. The sun was still high enough in the sky to get a nasty burn. “I especially liked the part where you saved me from having to explain the definition of a...” He looked at Phoebe, who was drinking the glass of lemonade her mom had put out for her. “You know.”
“Yeah.”
“Mom?” The little girl set the empty glass on the table beside her. She was half reclining on a lounge chair under the umbrella. “How long do I hafta rest?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“But that’s forever.” And there was no energy behind that protest.
“I know. I’m the world’s worst mother.” In a low voice she added, “She’ll be asleep in five minutes. And that’s a good thing, what with the Sunshine Fund benefit at the community center tonight.”
Sam knew all about the event to pad the town’s charitable fund, because it was in an account at his bank and he managed it. And Phoebe was actually asleep in less than five minutes. “You know her pretty well.”
They moved away so as not to disturb her and sat at the table underneath the patio cover.
“It’s my job.” She shrugged.
“You’re very go
od at it.”
“Thanks.” She poured lemonade from the pitcher she’d brought outside earlier and handed him a tall glass. “You were really good with her.”
“Except for the part where I wanted to run like hell when she asked what a narc is.”
“Yeah. That.” Faith laughed and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. “Seriously though, you’d be a wonderful father. Haven’t you ever thought about it?”
“I’d have to be married.”
“And you’re really determined not to be, so some woman did you very wrong.” At his questioning look she shrugged. “If you can psychoanalyze, so can I. What happened to make you so against taking that step?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he countered. “You’re the one who admitted having a bad experience with love.”
“I did. But I already have a child.”
“And you’ve never mentioned her father. What’s your story, Faith?” He saw a stubborn look steal into her eyes. There might not be another chance to get her to open up and he wanted her to. “How about a quid pro quo. You tell me about your bad experience and I’ll share mine.”
Faith met his gaze and the conflict was there in her eyes: curiosity pitted against not wanting to talk about her past. As he’d hoped, curiosity about him won out.
“You first,” she said.
“Okay.” He thought about where to start and decided to begin at the beginning. “My parents have a happy and loving relationship and set a high bar for what marriage should look like. So I put it off to make sure I got it right. In college I was careful not to get serious and, after graduation, I joined the family business. I developed a reputation for nerves of steel in negotiating deals.”
“Obviously the other side of those deals didn’t have an eight-year-old girl on the negotiating team.” There was a wicked gleam in Faith’s eyes.
“No.” He grinned. This wasn’t as hard as he’d expected. “I was professionally successful, but personally not so much. Still, corny and old-fashioned as it sounds, I wanted a marriage like my parents’. And children.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait until the single ladies of Blackwater Lake hear about this.”
“It’s past tense. And I’m telling you this in confidence, plant lady.” He waited for her to turn serious again. “Where was I? Oh, yes. The good part. I met Karen Leigh Perry at a Dallas charity event. She was beautiful, bright, funny and I fell hard. Skipping ahead, shortly after we were married, a scandal rocked the Hart family when we found out my youngest brother, Lincoln, was the result of my mother’s short-term affair.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. Turns out the folks had problems early on. They separated and she left for a while. Cal and I were pretty young.”
“Do you remember?”
“Not really. They worked things out and never talked about it. Not until Linc found out he has a different father.”
“That can ruin your whole day,” she said.
“More like a whole decade. It was a rough time for the Hart family.” He shrugged. “But I was even more determined that my marriage would be an unqualified success. And I thought it was, so I mentioned having a baby. Karen mentioned wanting a divorce because suddenly she decided she’d never loved me.”
“Oh, Sam—”
He hated the pity he saw in her eyes. That was harder than he’d expected. “It gets better. She wanted money and the divorce dragged on for a couple of years. My lawyer filed a motion and hers countered. Over and over.”
“But you’re divorced?”
“Oh, yes. She eventually went after Hart Industries and my family, trying to squeeze them for more money. It didn’t matter that they had nothing to do with the two of us—her ruthless attorney would have used anything to get to me. At that point I just wanted it over.” The bitterness was as intense now as it had been the moment he realized he had to throw in the towel. “We found a number to satisfy her and got a signature before she changed her mind. I bought and paid for the right to say “‘never again.’”
“I see.” Faith took a sip of lemonade. “And who could blame you?”
“I’m glad you get it.”
“Just keep in mind that not all women are like that.”
“‘Never again’ means I’ll never have to find out whether or not that’s true.”
“By your standards it also means you’ll never have children,” she reminded him.
“I know.” Sam was well aware. But the hit to his bank account wasn’t the only casualty. His romantic notions had been pulled out by the roots and his heart poisoned. Dallas had lost its appeal and he’d needed a positive change, which was why he’d made the decision to move his corporate office to Blackwater Lake. “Your turn.”
Faith sighed. “I fell in love and married my college sweetheart. After graduation we moved to Blackwater Lake where I grew up. The plan was for me to help build my aunt Cathy’s florist business.”
“And?” he encouraged when she stopped.
“Life was pretty perfect. I had a guy I adored and ambitious plans to expand the business.” She met Sam’s gaze. “Then I got pregnant.”
“I don’t understand. That’s a good thing.”
“I thought so. Dane didn’t.” Shadows filled her eyes. “He blamed me, said he wasn’t ready for a kid. His words. He gave me an ultimatum—him or the baby. I refused to terminate the pregnancy so he terminated the marriage. He signed away his parental rights in exchange for my promise not to demand alimony or child support.”
“Son of a bitch—” He stopped, glancing at Phoebe to make sure he hadn’t disturbed her. She was still out like a light. And so darn cute he had to wonder what kind of a bastard could walk out on her. “Faith, I don’t know what to say.”
“I know the feeling.” She smiled sadly.
“You should have gone after him for child support.”
“I didn’t want anything from a man who didn’t want his own child. So I promised, and it’s not my style to break my word.” She shrugged.
“You are really something,” he said. “Guts and resilience.”
“Back at you. Giving in to the witch to protect your family. Pretty noble of you, Mr. Hart.” She smiled, but it didn’t warm her eyes. There was something else she wasn’t saying.
“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” he asked.
“Mommy?” A sleepy voice came from behind them. “Can I go back in the water?”
“Duty calls.” Faith got up and went to her daughter.
Sam watched the two of them and something weird knotted in his chest. He admired the hell out of this woman. She was good and kind and independent. Strong as well as sexy, and that was a pretty powerful combination. He’d liked her the first time he stopped at her flower cart in his lobby, but he liked her even more now. The fire crisis had given him the chance to know her better and he almost wished he didn’t.
He had bought the right to say “never again” to marriage, but he’d never expected to meet a woman like Faith. But he had met her and really wanted to kiss her. He would have by now if he hadn’t promised to be her friend. Crossing the line could cost him that friendship and that wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.
Chapter Six
“I’ve been looking forward to seeing what a Blackwater Lake event looks like.” Sam carried the pot of chili he’d made to the potluck table on the far wall of the community center. “I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”
“No one wants a natural disaster,” Faith agreed. “But the silver lining is that in this town, at least, it brings people closer together.”
Sam nodded absently as he looked around the large rectangular room. Long portable tables were arranged in the center with folding chairs set up around them. The squares of linoleum that made up the floor w
ere utilitarian, designed to hold up under a lot of wear and tear. At the far end of the room was a raised stage with a curtain that looked like it could be used for school or local theater productions, or just a good place to give a speech. A microphone and podium were set up in front of it now.
“There’s Kayla, Mommy. Can I go see her?”
Faith set down—on a nearly full table—the casserole of macaroni and cheese she’d made then looked in the direction her daughter was pointing. She smiled and waved at someone. “Her mom is there. Sure, sweetie, go have fun.”
A young boy ran over. “Hi, Phoebe.”
“Hey, Tyler. Wanna come with me and say hi to Kayla?”
“Yeah. Can I, Dad?” He looked at the tall, rugged man in a cowboy hat and boots with his arm around Kate Dixon and baby Eve. Smart money said this was her busy rancher husband, Cabot.
“Sure, Ty.” The guy smiled at the dark-haired boy, then set a bowl of pasta salad on the table. “Hi, Faith. How’s it going? Any word on your house?”
“Could be damaged. Could be gone.” She shrugged. “Don’t know yet. Thanks to Sam here, Phoebe and I have a place to live.”
Cabot Dixon looked him over before holding out his hand. “Good to meet you.”
“My pleasure.” The man’s palm was callused and worn, a sign of hard work.
“Between the Hart family moving here and Jack Garner—”
“The bestselling author?” Sam had really enjoyed his book High Value Target.
“That’s him.” Cabot pointed out a dark-haired guy with his arm around a very attractive woman. “Blackwater Lake is becoming the go-to place for the rich and famous. I know your brother, Cal, has an office here, but we haven’t seen him.”
“Join the club,” Sam said ruefully. “He’s always working. My parents joke about staging an intervention but I think my mother is starting to get serious about it.”
Cabot took the fussy baby from her mother and held her high in the air, making her laugh. “It’s hard to find balance. There never seems to be enough time for work and family.”
“Cal isn’t married,” Sam said.
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