by Arlene James
Sam leaned a hip against the kitchen counter and tilted his head, trying not to feel hurt. “That’s what you said last time.”
“Well, even with the new guy we hired to help out, you’ve still been working a lot.”
“And you’ve been avoiding me a lot,” he said softly.
She glanced up, and he saw the way her eyes shuttered. “No. I’ve just tried to be considerate. It’s a busy time for you.”
“Have I complained?”
“As if you would!”
“Sure, I would, if something wasn’t to my liking. I work hard because I want to work hard, Sierra. I’m building something here for all of us.”
“I understand that, and I’m grateful for it.”
“So why are you cutting me out?”
“I’m not cutting you out. I’m giving you some space.”
“For what?”
She stood very still for a long time, looking down at the countertop. Finally she said, “For a life of your own, Sam.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant by that. “This is my life, Sierra.”
“You deserve more than this.”
He shook his head. He was on the verge of having everything he wanted, and suddenly she was pulling back. The thought of it stirred in him an emotion that he hadn’t felt in a very long time, not since he’d been a helpless kid trying to stand between his brutal father and cowering mother: panic. He hated that feeling. Hated it. And that made him a little angry.
“Are you through with me, Sierra? Is that what this is about? You’re through with me?”
She blinked at him. “No! Of course not. How could you even think it? You’re such a vital part of our lives now, you and the girls. I—I just…I want you to have all the options you had the day we met.”
He didn’t get that, but he could see that she was deadly earnest. “Why wouldn’t I have?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, frowning. “I…we’ve monopolized so much of your time.”
He shrugged. “If I don’t mind, I don’t know why you should.”
She closed her eyes and spoke so softly that he had to lean forward in order to hear her. “I seduced you, Sam. I seduced you, and I did it on purpose.”
Well, that much was true. Smiling, he stepped close and slipped his arms around her.
“Maybe it’s time I did the seducing,” he whispered on his way to that sweet spot just below her ear. When he fastened his mouth there, she put her head back and moaned softly. He pulled her tighter, letting her feel the bulge growing behind the fly of his jeans. “I think the twins should sleep over tonight, don’t you? It’s been almost a week.”
“Oh, Sam,” she said, closing her hands in the fabric of his shirt. “Oh, Sam.”
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She trembled against him, but when he raised his head and would have asked her what was really wrong, the girls were standing there, grinning at them.
“Ready to go?” Kim asked nonchalantly.
Sam dropped his hands and stepped back, looking at Sierra.
“No,” she said. “Sam has to shower and change.”
Smiling, he winked at her. “I’ll only be a minute.”
She reached out to press his hand with her fingers, but before he hurried away, he saw the worry and misery in her eyes. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what that was about—unless she was just concerned about him. He promised himself that he would allay her fears about that soon.
Sierra sniffed, wiped her eyes, blew her nose and reached for another tissue. She just couldn’t seem to stop crying. It was embarrassing. It was frightening. It was dangerous. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could press her for answers. She sniffed again, wiped her eyes again, blew her nose again. And reached for another tissue.
The phone rang, her cell phone. She reached down behind her desk and lifted her purse from the floor, extracting the phone from the side pocket. Her eyes were too bleary to read the message on the tiny screen, so she simply depressed the correct button and put the thing to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Sierra?”
“Sam.”
“Are you all right? You sound as if you have a cold.”
“Do I? Must be the connection.”
“You seem to be getting sick a lot lately. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Sierra put her elbow on the desktop, made a fist and rested her forehead against it. “Don’t try to take care of me, Sam. Please don’t try to take care of me. Not now.”
She could feel his confusion in the silence that followed, but she didn’t know how to help him with that. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “I just wanted you to know that the two people you hired today are working out fine. I had my doubts when you sent a middle-aged woman out here, but she’s worked rings around the kid. I think he’ll do, though. He seems willing to learn.”
Sierra lifted her head and wiped her face. “That’s what I thought, too.”
“Listen, now that we’ve got some help on board, I’m ready to take a little time for myself. That okay with you?”
She shrugged, realized he couldn’t see that and said, “Sure, Sam, whatever you want.”
“Okay, well, then why don’t we drive into Fort Worth for dinner tonight? Just the two of us.”
Sierra sat up straight in her chair. “Just the two of us?”
“I’ll knock off early. Lana will watch the girls. I checked to be sure. What do you say?”
“Just the two of us?” she asked again, needing to be sure.
“Just you and me, honey.”
Sierra swallowed, feeling her spirits rise. “That would be wonderful, Sam.”
“It’s a date, then.”
A date. Sierra bit her lip to stifle her laughter. A date. After all this time. If that wasn’t a classic cart-before-the-horse, she didn’t know what was. But she’d take it. Oh, yes, she’d take it.
“I’ll be ready and waiting by six.”
“Six it is. See you then”
He broke the connection. Sierra pressed the button that would terminate the call on her end and sat back. They were going on a date. She smiled and hugged herself.
Sierra sat her fork aside and picked up her glass, sipping the sparkling water. “That was an excellent dinner.”
“Glad you enjoyed it,” Sam said. “How about dessert?”
She waved her hands. “No way. I’m stuffed.”
“A glass of wine, then. I’m pretty much a beer man myself, but I could go for one more glass of this Chardonnay if you want to join me. It’s really good.”
“Thank you, no.”
He leaned forward and urged softly, “Go ahead. I can afford it.”
Exasperated, Sierra rolled her eyes. “I never implied that you couldn’t. I’m just not much of a drinker.”
A sheepish look overcame him. “Sorry. I know my pride gets the better of me sometimes. I’ll work on it, I promise.”
“Your pride’s part of who you are, Sam, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He reached across the crisply draped table and covered her hand with his. “How about naked and in my bed?”
Her heart slammed against the wall of her chest. “Is that an invitation?”
“Absolutely.”
“Your house?”
“Unless you’d rather go to yours.”
“No.” This, she knew, was a major step for him. Was he finally beginning to see that money and possessions didn’t matter?
He smiled and signaled the waiter, reaching for his wallet. In short order they were heading for the exit, but as they crossed the now crowded foyer, an unwelcome presence impeded their progress.
“Well, well, fancy meeting you here.”
Sierra rocked to a halt, her back bumping against Sam’s chest. “Dennis.”
Her ex-husband raked them both with a smirk. Sierra noticed that he wore an expensive silk suit and hand-tailored shirt, as opposed to Sam’s serviceable sport coat o
ver dark, starched jeans and a gray, finely gauged sweater. He was with a tall, skinny blonde who’d bought herself one cosmetic surgery too many. She had all the perfect features, but they were disproportionate somehow: nose too small, mouth too plump, cheeks too high, eyes too smooth, skin too taut for the shape, length and breadth of her face.
“Treating the boy-toy to a night on the town?”
Sierra felt Sam bristle at her back and lifted a restraining hand. “As a matter of fact,” Sierra said, “my partner and I are celebrating the expansion of our business. We recently signed a lucrative contract and hired our first employees.”
“But that’s something you wouldn’t know anything about,” Sam put in, “seeing as how your idea of a business deal is pumping your eight-year-old daughter for funds.”
“That’s a lie!”
“Is it?”
The blonde made herself known then, draping a proprietary arm across Dennis’s chest. “Who are these people?” she sniffed, trying to snub them and satisfy her curiosity at the same time.
Sierra smiled wryly. “I’m the lucky one who got away.”
“And I’m the one who’s gonna rearrange your date’s face if he makes that boy-toy crack again,” Sam growled.
“You and who else?” Dennis sneered, glancing around as if to remind Sam that they were in a public place.
Sam held up both his fists. “Me and these two.”
The blonde’s eyes widened, and she drew back as if fearing a blow to her own too-perfect face.
“You better teach some manners to this hay-seed,” Dennis mocked.
“Or what?” Sam asked mildly, but Dennis only glared. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Come on, honey. We’ve got celebrating to do.”
He shoved open the door, and they found themselves out on the sidewalk, hurrying, arm in arm, toward his big truck.
“So that’s the ex,” Sam muttered, his hand riding protectively in the small of her back. “I cannot believe the nerve of that guy. No wonder you’re so disturbed by Tyree’s relationship with him.”
“He’s still her father,” Sierra pointed out, as she had done on too many occasions.
“And always will be,” Sam agreed, “but you know what’s cheesing him off?”
“That I’ve got money.”
“And that you’re my girl now.”
Sierra laughed. She felt like a girl again, out on a Friday night with her high school steady, except no teenager had any business indulging in what they were planning. “Come on,” she said, and they ran the rest of the way to the truck.
Sam turned on the radio as they drove, and though she could see the speedometer and knew that they were flying low, it was as if they were floating through the night, blood simmering as they anticipated what lay ahead. At one and the same time it seemed as if a mere moment and an eternity passed before the truck rolled up into Sam’s narrow, graveled drive. Snagging her hand, he slid out and pulled her out after him. He towed her across the yard and up onto the porch, through the unlocked front door and the darkened house to a small room at the back of the kitchen.
The room was worn but clean, with furnishings consisting of nothing more than a full-sized bed with an old-fashioned metal headboard, a small dresser, side chair, a crate piled with books and a small lamp. The window shades were ancient and yellowed, the faded blue bedspread practically threadbare, but the walls were lined with framed photos of the twins, their mother, the Houstons and a young Sam.
While Sam switched on the stereo in the other room, Sierra fell in love with a photograph of him with a baby tucked into the curve of each arm, grinning hugely. He was thin as a rail and barely looked old enough to shave, but showed strong signs of the man to come. As she stood there staring at that old picture, Sam walked up behind her and placed his hands atop her shoulders.
“You were there when they were born,” she whispered.
“Yep. Jonah was in jail for public drunkenness when Mom went into labor, so I was able to come and be with her.”
Sierra shook her head and turned into his arms. “I’m so proud of you, Sam. You’ve overcome so much. You deserve every good thing life has to offer. I’m sorry if I’ve led you into something you’re not comfortable with.”
“Now, now,” he said, “it’s not like that. I’m no kid. I’ve known what I was doing from the very beginning.”
“But you resisted getting involved. I pushed it.”
“That’s not what made me do it.”
“Then what did?”
He grinned. “You’re just so darn irresistible.”
She smiled at that. “Am I?”
He stepped closer, tightened the arms looped about her waist. “You have to ask?” He bent his head and kissed her, then pulled her against his chest with a sigh. “You’ve got me jumping through hoops, sweetheart, doing everything I can to make this thing right between us. One day, Sierra, I’ll be able to take care of you and Tyree. You’ve got to believe that.”
She pushed back a little, troubled anew. “What if I don’t want you to take care of us, Sam?”
He drew away. “You saying you don’t want us to be together?”
“No, of course I’m not saying that. I—I’m just not sure what being together means.”
“Well, then,” he said silkily, moving her toward the bed, “let me show you.”
She didn’t know how to tell him that sex wasn’t enough anymore or how to walk away from the only part of him she might ever have.
Chapter Thirteen
Sam slumped against the steps and watched wearily as Sierra went down on her knees and began tugging at his boots. He shouldn’t have eaten before he cleaned up. Now, with his stomach full, his body just wanted to lie down, roll over and pass out.
“You’ve got to stop this, Sam,” Sierra scolded. “You’re working too hard. It’s ridiculous. I’ve hired you half a dozen hands, and instead of taking it easier, you try to outwork them all. You’re so tired you can’t even make it up the stairs to the shower.”
“I just need a little rest,” he said, knowing that she was right. He had overdone it today, but every row of plants that went into the ground was one more step forward toward his goal, and the way she was looking up at him now with that soft light of concern and admiration in her eyes was enough to make him want to go back out there and put in another few hours. Except it was pitch-black out there now.
She got the second boot off. Dirt trickled out of it and onto her clean floor.
“Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” he moaned. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
She threw the boot, threw it, literally. Halfway across the foyer. He sat up on the step, gaping at her.
“I am so sick and tired of you taking care of everything!” she yelled. “Is that your only function in life, Sam? Taking care of everyone? Can’t anyone take care of you? You talk about being equals, but what’s equal about this? I don’t give a fig about a little dirt on my floor! It doesn’t matter to me anymore whether or not the farm pays off! My only concern is for you and the girls and our—” She broke off and started to cry.
He found the energy to get up off the step and go to her. “Sierra, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she wailed.
He put his arms around her. “I don’t really know, to tell you the truth. I guess I’m just too tired to figure it out right now.”
She sniffed, calmer now. “It’s not your fault, Sam. I don’t know what’s wrong with me these days.”
He sighed. “I think maybe I’ve left you alone too much with the girls. Tell you what. Tomorrow’s Saturday. We’ll take the day. Do nothing. Get some rest.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, Sam.”
“Oh.” The days of the past weeks seemed to have run together into one long marathon of planting. “Okay. Same deal.”
The room swayed. Sierra caught him with an arm about his waist. “That’s it. I’m getting you up those stairs, into a hot shower and to bed, a real bed. No arguments.”
>
He couldn’t imagine why he would argue. She turned him toward the stairs, and he draped an arm about her shoulders for support. Together they started up the stairs, one steep step at a time. At the top, she guided him down the hall to her room. She practically hauled him through the bedroom door and slung him onto the side of the bed. He wanted desperately to lie down, but he was too filthy.
“I’m not sure I have the strength to shower.”
“I’ll help you. My shower has room for two.”
Room for two. He liked the sound of that. “I’m afraid I’m just too tired to do you any good, honey. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, shut up,” she ordered, jerking at his clothes. When she had him stripped down to his pants, she tugged him up and shoved those down. “Step out.”
He did. She stepped under his arm and walked him into the bathroom, which was rapidly filling with steam. When had she turned on the shower? he wondered. He seemed to have lost some time. She opened the wide glass door and shoved him through it. The hot sting of the water was pure heaven, but it made his knees even weaker than they were. He leaned against the glass brick and let the spray pummel him.
The door opened again, and Sierra stepped inside, gloriously naked. “Mmm,” he said and got his hands on her, but she twisted away and fiddled with the water temperature, then turned back, a bottle of body wash and cloth in hand. He chuckled as she began to scrub the dirt off him. So she wanted to take care of him, did she? He stood there and let her, and soon the weariness ebbed somewhat. By the time she got to shampooing his hair, he was hard as stone. Shaking away her hands, he stuck his head beneath the strongest part of the spray and rinsed out the lather, then he shoved her up into the corner and began kissing her.
She put her head back when he lifted her legs around his waist and pushed himself up into her. “I thought you were too tired.”
“I guess I’m never too tired for you, honey,” he said, fixing his mouth to hers.
She put her arms around his neck, and his body did what it knew instinctively to do, but he was too tired, and within moments he exploded inside her. After that, he was almost too weak to stand, but as he slumped, she put her feet to the floor once more and pushed him back against the opposite wall. Quickly, she shut off the water and went out, returning moments later with towels. He took one from her and lethargically rubbed his head and chest before trusting himself to step out of the shower stall and into the bathroom. She took over then, briskly toweling him dry. When she was done with him, she started on herself, ordering, “Get in the bed.”