“But your parents are so great!” Helena objected, sounding genuinely surprised that I didn’t want to live with them all the time. Helena had always gotten on well with my parents, especially my mom.
It made me wonder how much they saw each other now. It was a small town, it wasn’t like Helena could have avoided my parents completely for ten years.
As if reading my mind, Helena carried on, “Your mom always stops to chat when I bump into her around town. I swear, she’s passed almost as many family recipes down to me as she has to Pat and Charlotte.”
A soft laugh bubbled up in response to Helena’s words. Maybe it should have bothered me that my mom was still in touch with my ex so much she passed family recipes to her, but... I found it hard to worry about that. My mom had always loved Helena. And rightfully so.
“Better you than me,” I teased. “Mom tried to give me some recipes but I wasn’t very good at following them. Perhaps now I’d be better.” I had successfully followed quite a few recipes from books before.
Reaching the tile shop, I parked the car, before giving Helena another smile. It was genuine as I told her, “I’m glad. That you and my mom are still friendly. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be.”
And maybe that was why it didn’t bother me. They were both nice people. Helena and I having a broken engagement behind us shouldn’t affect Helena’s relationship with other people.
She smiled back, so warm and genuine that it made my stomach swoop. “I’m glad, too,” she admitted. “It was kind of weird at first but -” She shrugged. It didn’t require an explanation. Our engagement had ended ten years ago, that was plenty of time to get over any weirdness.
So why was Helena still making my heart do crazy things? I had to push that question aside. We had tiles to buy. Though frankly, I was mostly here to provide a credit card. I doubted Helena would need much input from me.
“Come on then, let’s go buy all the tiles,” I joked, getting out of the car. Hopefully, it would be fewer than all of the tiles. I had a list of measurements and amounts we needed. So perhaps it was that I was to provide a credit card and some very technical information.
As we walked to the store, I tried very hard not to think about how it felt like we were shopping for a house together. Well. We were. Just someone else’s house and someone else’s happiness.
At least it was easy to be happy for Pat and Charlotte.
Chapter Eight
Helena
Picking out kitchen tiles with my ex-fiancé was definitely the weirdest thing I’d done all week. Even weirder than asking him for favors. As we walked around, taking in dozens of different kitchen counters and tile finishes, it was hard not to imagine what it would have been like to shop for a house of our own.
When I’d picked out my current house, I’d had to do it alone. The only person I’d needed to please was myself. It should have been easy. Instead, I’d found it hard to know how I felt about the different places I visited without someone else to bounce ideas off.
I was happy enough with where I lived, but it didn’t feel like a forever home. Maybe if I’d had someone else to help me pick it, it wouldn’t feel so temporary.
But none of that was worth worrying about now. Pat and Charlotte were going to live with these tiles for a long time. I needed to pick well!
“Okay. Do you know what color walls we’re working with?” I asked Sam. “Did you bring a swatch?”
Sam’s eyes widened at my question. I could almost hear the panic setting it as he questioned whether he even knew what a swatch was. But then, Sam clearly remembered that he did know what it was, why we were here.
“Like a color sample?” he asked and seemed genuinely delighted he’d figured it out when I nodded. “No,” came the answer. I almost sighed. It would be easier with a swatch. “But!” he added, raising his phone. “I took pictures of everything. So yeah, don’t make that face. I came somewhat prepared,” he teased.
Pulling up the pictures, Sam handed me his phone so I could flick through them.
The kitchen was half-finished, the walls painted and the counters in place, with holes where the appliances - and the tiles - would go. Squinting down at the phone, I tried to memorize the different colors in play.
Everything was fairly neutral, which was probably safe. But it was maybe a little boring. Charlotte loved cooking so much, I knew she wanted her kitchen to be a room she enjoyed spending time in.
“Okay, so I think we need something bright,” I decided, swiping once more in the hope that there might be a close-up of the kitchen units.
Instead, my gaze rested on an incredibly toned set of bare abs! My fingers tightened instinctively, wanting to reach out and trace the lines between the muscles.
Heat rushed into my face as I realized this must be a recent shot of Sam. He’d been hot when we’d been together - but this was in a different league entirely!
With flaming cheeks, I handed the phone back. “You should put that on an online dating profile,” I teased, my voice shaking slightly. Probably Sam already had. He was single, why on earth wouldn’t he be looking for someone to share his life with? Or at least, the odd night.
Taking the phone from me with a frown, Sam’s eyes widened when he saw what picture was open. A soft ‘oh’ fell from his lips and fuck, then his cheeks tinted red slightly. How had we gotten here? Standing in a tile shop, blushing about just how well defined Sam’s abs were.
“I was sending that to the team group chat, we were having an abs-off,” he shrugged. “I’ll let them know you ranked me very highly,” he added with a wink that made my blush intensify.
Pushing his phone in the pocket of his jeans, Sam grinned. “So. Tiles?”
And yeah! Right, that’s what we were doing.
“Tiles,” I echoed, forcing my gaze up from Sam’s pocket. It wasn’t like I needed to see the picture again: it had very firmly burned itself into my memory. “Bright colors, something that will liven the place up a little.”
Keeping my mind on the job, I mentally walked through my favorite kitchens. “You know how your mom has those diamond-shaped tiles in different colors behind the cooker?” I asked. “Something like that. But maybe not too much like that. I don’t want Charlotte to feel like she’s being compared with your mom.”
“Nothing wrong with my mom,” Sam argued. I gave him a look. For a moment, I worried he might actually take offense to my phrasing. The way he grinned at me told me that he was only teasing. I liked Sam’s mom a lot, we had already established this. Charlotte was her own person, though, and with that came her own tastes. Even if, in some instances, they were similar to Sam’s mom’s tastes. As we walked, I tried to see if any of the tiles caught my eyes. “What’s Charlotte’s favorite color?” Sam asked. “Pat likes green,” he added. I hadn’t known that, but it was a useful bit of information! It made me smile that Sam even knew what his brother’s favorite color was.
“Charlotte’s changes according to the season,” I answered. It was Sam’s turn to give me a look, like he couldn’t believe that anyone could have multiple favorite colors. His disbelief made me laugh. “Don’t blame me! Charlotte just… responds intensely to things.”
Since she was my best friend, it fell to me to explain. “In fall, she loves orange, because of the leaves changing color. At Christmas, she likes silver decorations on the tree. In spring, it’s purple, because of the flowers.”
I’d always thought it was sweet. Charlotte made me see beauty in the world around us that I might otherwise have overlooked. We were very different, but having her perspective on life made mine richer.
“But I don’t think purple or silver will work with green,” I added. “Orange might, if we get the right shades. You look for green tiles, I’ll look for orange?”
The suggestion seemed to surprise Sam. But then he smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan!” He nodded. It struck me that perhaps he hadn’t expected to be given any choice at all. Obviously, we were here be
cause I knew what Charlotte liked, but that hardly meant I didn’t want to hear Sam’s input. After all, it wasn’t going to be just Charlotte’s house. Sam knew Pat well enough to tell me what his brother might like.
“Do you want us to come back with some examples?” he asked. “See if we have any shades that match up?”
It was perfectly sensible for us to split up. We’d cover the store more quickly that way. And the pang low in my stomach at the thought of separating from Sam was something that should only be ignored. We were here to shop, not to catch-up. We’d done more than enough of that already!
“Yeah. I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes?” It wasn’t long, but the store was hardly huge. Besides, it wouldn’t be long enough for Sam to lose interest in shopping for green tiles. “And if we don’t have any shades that match, we’ll come up with a new plan of attack.”
Sam nodded. It was hard to tell whether there was any reluctance in his eyes. Probably my imagination only wanted there to be.
As we went our separate ways, it was obvious the store stocked more green tiles than orange ones. And none of the shades of orange seemed quite right. Still, I selected a few that might work.
The store was small enough for Sam and me to bump into each other at the other end, rather than going all the way back to our meeting place. As predicted, Sam was juggling rather more options than I’d brought to the table.
“Let’s find somewhere we can lay these out next to each other and have a look,” I suggested.
Luckily for us, there were a lot of mock bathrooms set up to showcase sinks and stuff; it didn’t take us long to find somewhere to lay the tiles out. Sam’s choices were varied, something that I definitely appreciated. He hadn’t gone with one sort of color, rather picking both darks and lights. It would help us match something, definitely.
“I don’t think all of them are great,” Sam admitted. “But I’m not a tile, what do they call it? Conicuar?” he seemed skeptical at the word he offered me, making me laugh, both at his look and at the idea of someone being a tile connoisseur.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” I offered. “I’ve never actually picked out tiles before, either.” And boy, it was kind of surreal realizing that my first time - once again - was with Sam, of all people!
Leaning forward, I moved a few of the tiles around, adding the few orange ones I’d found to the middle of all the greens. “I think we want to go with either light and light or dark and dark,” I mused.
Glancing at Sam, I smiled. “So, did your house come with tiles, too?” I asked. Mine had, and they had yet to need replacing. Maybe they weren’t exactly what I would have picked for myself, but they were fine. Not worth the money to get new ones, anyway.
“Yeah,” Sam nodded. There was some hesitation in his tone and I frowned. Before I could ask, Sam went on to explain. Suddenly, it was clear where the awkwardness had come from. “I didn’t want to pick. When I found the house in Salt Lake, I wasn’t... I wasn’t really in a place where I wanted to make any decisions about stuff.”
From the brief times we’d spoken about it since Sam was back in town, I had figured that he’d only ever had one house in Salt Lake City. The house he bought just after we broke up. So in a way, Sam’s lack of personalized tiles was because of me. Kind of.
Not wanting me to offer an awkward apology - not that I thought I would - Sam gave me a smile. “It's a bit ironic that we’re still picking tiles together,” he joked.
It was. My lips curved into a small smile. In a weird way, it was a relief to know that Sam hadn’t picked out tiles with his ex. Though they’d had a pet together, which gnawed at me in a way it really shouldn’t.
Sam had every right to get on with his life. Just as I’d gotten on with mine.
“These wouldn’t be what I’d pick for myself,” I said, shrugging slightly. “But I think either of these sets could work for Pat and Charlotte.” A gesture encompassed the two pairs of tiles that seemed to work the best together.
But we still had to decide between them. “Does the kitchen get a lot of light in the evening?” I asked. “If it does, we could get the darker tiles, I think.”
Sam seemed to think about it. I could picture the way he was placing himself in the kitchen in his head. It reminded me a lot of how we used to study together. Or rather, how I’d helped Sam study. He was always a very visual thinker, needing to place himself in a scenario in order to understand it.
Seeing it now, it brought back memories I hadn’t thought of in ten years. If not even longer. After we graduated high school, we’d not needed to study together.
“It gets good light in the evening,” he finally decided. “There’s a skylight as well, so the kitchen is always very bright, though. Is that a problem? Does everyone think of these things when picking tiles?”
I shrugged. “I honestly have no idea. It just… seems obvious to me. Apart from weekends, Charlotte and Pat will mostly use the kitchen in the evening, right? After they both got home from work.” Sam nodded, with me so far. It was exactly how I’d used to explain things to him, verbalizing what went on in my head without me even really thinking about it.
“So, if the kitchen was dark in the evenings, dark tiles would make it seem even darker. And I think being too dark is a problem.”
On the other hand, no magazine I’d ever read or show I’d ever seen had said a room could be too bright.
Sam thought about it. I almost smiled. He’d always given the things I said a thorough consideration and this was no exception. It really did remind me so much of us studying together. Then, finally having come to a conclusion in his head, Sam nodded.
“Alright, so light colored tiles,” he confirmed. He moved in slightly closer to me, leaving my breath to catch slightly in my throat. Thankfully, Sam didn’t notice, instead reaching for one of the lighter orange tiles I’d brought. “This one’s nice,” he decided. “Looks like pumpkin seeds.”
I laughed, always surprised by the connections his mind made. He briefly glanced my way, as if afraid that I might be laughing at him. It sent a pang of guilt through me. Had I forgotten that under that athletic, confident exterior, Sam had always been sensitive about things?
“I think pumpkin seeds are very appropriate for a kitchen,” I said, pushing a curl back behind my ear. Sam’s gaze followed the movement, my mouth going dry at the way his attention fixed on me.
To distract myself, I dropped my gaze to the tiles once more. My hand reached out, rearranging a few of them. Finally, I tapped one of the lighter green ones. “And this one, I think,” I announced. “They’ll look good with the color of the kitchen counters.”
Sam considered it, but there was no doubt in my mind about whether he would agree. It was a nice feeling. Trusting that Sam trusted my opinion. Then again, there’d never been an occasion when Sam hadn’t.
“Yeah, looks good!” he announced with a grin. “Let’s go find someone who’ll sell them to us. I’ve got the measurements so they can do the math for how many we need.” And I had to give it to Sam, that was good foresight. “Pat told me to,” he admitted when I pointed it out.
Laughing, I shook my head. Well, we still had the measurements, that was what mattered. It didn’t take us long to find someone who worked there who was more than happy to take our order for the tiles. They’d order the right amount and have them delivered in a few days. Our job here was done.
“Well, your job is done,” Sam pointed out as we headed back to his car. “I have to put all the tiles up.”
Reaching out, I gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze. As soon as I felt all that rippling muscle through his shirt, I snatched my hand back, face flushing once again. The picture of Sam, bare-chested and probably post-workout flashed through my mind, which only brought my temperature up even higher.
Before Sam could say anything, or notice my discomfort, I interrupted. “Pat’s not going to do it with you?” I asked. “I thought he invited you here to help, not to do it all for him.”
Getting back in the car, Sam shot me a smile. “Drop you off at home?” he asked, since he’d picked me up from work.
Glancing at my watch, I frowned. It was later than I’d expected it to be. Apparently, time could fly when you were having fun. Even when you were having fun tile shopping with an ex!
“Actually, could you drop me off at Kate’s?” I asked, feeling apologetic. It wasn’t as if it was that much further out of Sam’s way - and if I went home first, I was definitely going to be late. Mom would never let me hear the end of that.
Sam didn’t look troubled, he just nodded and asked me for the address. He’d always been a good guy, I wasn’t surprised that he’d agreed to take me.
“At least Ethan will be there. Hey, maybe if I text him now he can meet us out front. You can tell him yourself how you’ll drop in on the hockey team!” Ethan would love that. And he did deserve to be the first to know.
From the smile on Sam’s face, the idea must have appealed to him, too. It made my stomach swoop. Seeing Sam interact with kids was something I’d daydreamed about - before we broke up.
Now I just needed to remember that it didn’t mean anything.
Chapter Nine
Sam
When Helena and I had been dating, seeing her family was never my favorite thing. It wasn’t because they disliked me or thought me beneath her. Maybe it should have been, but that had never bothered me. Helena loved me; that was what mattered. Her parents had always felt I wasn’t academic enough and they weren’t wrong. Hockey came before academics for me; Helena knew that.
Home Matched (Salt Lake Pumas Book 4) Page 7