Crossing Lines

by Alannah Lynne

  Dammit, he needed to get a replacement switch for his mouth’s faulty filter. What happened to not getting in deeper?

  She laughed and peered down her leg. “Yeah, I don’t ever want to do this again.”

  He watched her peel the label off her bottle and said, “You never told me about your boots.” Heavy emphasis on the t. “I’m also curious about this lifetime habit of cussing.” He laughed as she winced. “I’m guessing you grew up around construction. Am I right?”

  Her head fell back against the cushioned headrest and she sighed. A small, sad smile played at her lips, and she nodded. “Yeah. My dad owned a construction company. I spent as much time as I could following him around, learning the business.” She laughed. “Both the good and the not-so-great parts… like cussing.”

  He laughed, remembering all too well the good and the bad habits he’d learned while tagging after his dad. He was seven the first time his mamma washed his mouth out with soap for cursing; by twelve, she’d given up.

  “My dad wouldn’t let me go with him until I was big enough to climb into the cab of his truck by myself. The climbing in part wasn’t the problem. Reaching the handle, then having enough strength to push the button and open the door was something else entirely.”

  He glanced at the mini-Sam attempting to reach the diving board so she could hang from it while Spencer jumped off. He had no problem picturing Sam as a kid.

  “How old were you when you finally got the door open?”

  “Almost five.” She smiled broadly, obviously still taking pride in pulling off such a big feat for a little girl. “I wasn’t allowed to cheat and stand on anything, other than my tippy-toes. I tried every single day, and the day I finally got that da… danged door open was better than any Christmas morning.”

  She stared into the distance and laughed. “I can still see the shock on Daddy’s face when he climbed into the cab with his thermos and lunch bucket and found me sitting on the seat. I was covered in dirt and grease from head to toe, because after I got the door open, I had to crawl into the floorboard and then up onto the seat.”

  “Did he take you with him?”

  “Oh yeah. A deal was a deal. He went back into the house to tell Mama she had the day free and came back with an extra sandwich and a bottle of juice for my lunch.”

  The pleasure rippling off her seeped into his chest.

  “Do you have siblings?”

  The change in her was drastic as the smile fell from her face and her shoulders sagged. “Yeah. Three older brothers.”

  He waited for her to say more, to give insight into why his question leached the pleasure out of her, but none came. “Were they as anxious to go to work with your dad?”

  “Hel-heck no.” She shook her head emphatically. “They could’ve cared less. My oldest brother didn’t like to get dirty. My middle brother was too interested in sports. My younger brother was, and still is, a bum.”

  She took a long pull on the beer. “They didn’t give a rat’s ass about the business.” Along with the increasing tension in her body, her voice shook with a biting edge.

  Kevin debated dropping the inquisition, but he wanted to know more about her. Settling on middle ground, he switched back to a topic he hoped made her smile again.

  “What was your dad’s specialty?”

  “Builder, like you. We were out of Columbia. I don’t think our paths ever crossed, but I heard the Mazze name a lot. Especially as I got older and started taking on more responsibilities. Daddy handled all the estimating.” She gave a half-smirk. “When you outbid us, I definitely heard your name, usually combined with colorful adjectives.”

  She worked in the same field as him and their paths never before crossed? “What was the name of your company?”

  “Seymore Builders.”

  The inside of his ears twitched, like an animal’s hearing a familiar sound. “Chas was your dad?” His arms went slack and he almost fell off the side of the pool as a million mental puzzle pieces got dumped on the floor all at once.

  She nodded and gulped. “Yeah.”

  He scrambled, trying to fit the right piece in the right slot, sorting through the rumors and what he believed to be fact. Chas was a great guy. Everyone had been stunned and felt the loss when he’d dropped dead of a heart attack on his way to work one morning.

  “I’m sorry, Samantha. I thought a lot of your dad. He was well respected by everyone.”

  Her smile returned, only not as sharp and crisp. “Thanks. That’s nice to hear. And, please, call me Sam. I despise Samantha.”

  He grinned. Why was that not a surprise?

  “Why didn’t you continue the business after his passing? I remember hearing speculation you would.” He paused and took in her crumpled expression and hollow eyes. “Everyone believed you more than capable of carrying on in his footsteps.”

  “Not everyone.” She took a long drink of her beer, which had to be warm and nasty, but she didn’t seem to care. “My dad messed up.”

  He cocked his head to the side, sure he misunderstood. “What?”

  “He didn’t have a proper will in place, so when he died, everything went to my mother. My brothers convinced her I wouldn’t be able to run the business, at least not profitably. So, they helped her”—she made quotations marks with her fingers—“liquidate everything, and my oldest brother, who is an accountant, handled the financial end of things. My mom gets a monthly stipend, and after she passes, whatever is left will get divided between us kids”—she huffed and her shoulder twitched—“or at least them.”

  He pulled his jaw back into place and blinked a couple of times. “They sold the business out from under you, without giving you an opportunity to prove yourself?”

  “Yep.” She twisted her mouth around and chomped down on her upper lip. “My ex didn’t help matters. Michaela was little, and he thought it would be best if I stayed home with her. They all joined forces and… as they say… the rest is history.”

  Kevin was shocked into silence. He knew Chas’s company dissolved after his death, but he hadn’t gotten any details. He’d heard rumors, and sadly enough, it seemed some were pretty damned close to the truth. He couldn’t believe she’d been dumped on the street.

  “I’m struck stupid, Sam. I don’t even know what to say. I can’t imagine if my sister and mother did something like that to me.” Of course, they wouldn’t, since his sister was the office manager and both of his parents had complete faith in him.

  That had to be what hurt Sam the most. Siblings shitting on you was one thing, but to have her own spouse and mother betray her? Christ, that must have made a deep and long-lasting mark.

  Without conscious thought to his actions, or to the consequences, he drew her raft to him and stroked his hand down her leg. He wished he’d known her then so he could’ve offered comfort and support and helped ease her pain.

  Keep his hands to himself for two weeks? Hell, he hadn’t made it two hours. But he didn’t care. He saw vulnerability in her for the first time, and he wanted her to know he had her back.

  Though barely five feet tall, she projected an image of being twice that height and bulletproof. Even while rolling around on the ground in agony, she’d been prepared to kick ass and take names, rock-solid and ready to battle the world if necessary.

  Now… she had the appearance of someone who had battled the world, tried to kick ass and take names, but was badly beaten. She appeared small, isolated, and exceptionally lonely.

  “For what it’s worth, I have no doubt you were more than capable of running your old man’s business. I’m sure you would’ve made him proud.”

  Her shoulders rose with her deep inhale and the corner of her mouth lifted. “Thanks.” She played with a puddle of water that gathered on her float. “This probably sounds silly, and it’s a completely different situation, but I wish someone had thrown me a life raft when I needed it. That’s why I took you home last night… I mean…” Her face flushed. “I took your file home
last night and spent some time, umm”—her lips twitched as she glanced away—“working up options for you and Wade to look over when we meet on Monday.”

  Kevin stared, dumbfounded and nearly speechless for the second time in five minutes. “You worked on my project last night?”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t any big deal. Michy and I did our normal Friday night thing. We ate pizza and drank beer while watching our requisite Friday night movie” She rolled those big eyes to him. “Beauty and the Beast, in case you were wondering.” She laughed. “I guess I should clarify. She had root beer. I had the real thing. Anyway, after I got her to bed, I didn’t have anything else to do, so I sat down to work. I enjoyed it.”

  All he could do was stare and keep pushing breath in and out. She’d spent her Friday night at home, drinking beer and eating pizza, watching a movie with mini-Sam, working on his project. He’d never seen a Disney movie—at least not that he remembered—but aside from that, she’d had the opportunity to enjoy a perfect Friday night, relaxing and doing nothing. Instead, she worked on his project.

  Meanwhile, he spent the night cinched into a suit, feeling out of place in his own home, surrounded by strangers, with a woman who was going to be the death of him.

  He turned, lifted himself out of the pool, and bolted for the cooler. He’d been having so much fun with Sam and the kids, other than the beer he drank when they first arrived, he hadn’t considered having another. He hadn’t even finished the first one. But now, thoughts of Lizbeth sent him running for an ice-cold Bud like his life depended on it.

  As he knelt down, a gust of air blew over his wet skin, chilling him to the bone. He paused with the top of the cooler partially unzipped, recognizing this was a defining moment. Did he want to continue down this path, or did he want to take a different road?

  He looked over his shoulder at Sam sitting on her float, completely bewildered by his quick escape. He watched the kids wrestling over the other float, laughing and playing and having a great time without a care in the world. He looked at the massive house casting a shadow over the pool and thought of Max Holden and all he’d lost because of bad choices.

  Kevin was close, real fucking close, to crossing the line that could jeopardize everything he’d ever worked for and everything he’d ever wanted.

  He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, swallowing the panic rising in his chest. He re-zipped the cooler and pushed it under his chair, hoping out of sight would be out of mind. He wanted to make different choices in every segment of his life. Choices that would allow him to take better care of himself and find happiness, rather than always putting someone else first.

  The concept was so foreign, a large part of him bulked at the idea. He felt like a selfish asshole, but he had to talk to Lizbeth. Forget all the reasons he had for not ending things with her; his quality of life demanded otherwise.

  She had to see the writing on the wall, and it wasn’t right to continue when they were never going to be more than they were now. He wasn’t going to risk losing something that might be special just because he didn’t want to hurt Lizbeth.

  New choices. New roads.

  After a quick prayer for strength and the release of guilt, he slipped back into the water next to Sam, who studied him from the corner of her eye, wary and confused. He rested his forearm on the opposite side of the raft and leaned over her. “Thank you.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal. Really.”

  It was a big deal. He was so grateful she’d shown up in his life, even if their first two meetings had been costly for both of them. But he decided to leave her thinking it was all about Vanguard.

  He had no idea what the future held, but he wanted it to look like her.

  Her eyes roamed over his face, studying him a little too closely for comfort, but he didn’t back off or look away. After a moment, she said, “What just happened?”

  While he didn’t feel the need to hide, he also didn’t see a need for full disclosure. Besides, what would he say? “I’m on the verge of being an alcoholic, although I’m realizing it’s more of a situation thing. With you, I’m happy and don’t need to drink. But when I think about my girlfriend—oh yeah, have I failed to mention her?—I want to guzzle by the gallons.”

  Yeah. Not.

  He smiled and shook his head, shrugging off her question, then stepped back, giving her some space. “Nothing.”

  He ran his hand over her uninjured foot and down the sole. She closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure as he ran his thumb up her arch, then circled it over the pad below her toes.

  He’d avoided crossing one line today, but as he rubbed her foot and enjoyed the ecstasy etched on her face, he slid into dangerous territory. The boundaries between right and wrong were blurring. A smart man would remove his hand from her leg, take a step back, and make sure he maintained at least ten feet of distance between them at all times, at least until after he’d talked to Lizbeth.

  However, he’d apparently lost all sensibilities, because rather than removing his hand, he leaned in closer and said, “You went above and beyond for me. Now let me do something for you. Let me stay with you and Michy tonight, so I can take care of you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Two hours after The Incident, as Sam had come to think of it, she still hadn’t figured out what launched Kevin out of the pool and across the deck like his ass was on fire and the ice in the cooler was his only chance at survival. But since then, he’d been a perfect cabana boy, seeing to her every need while she reclined on the lounger, her leg propped up on a pillow covered in a luxurious, multi-million thread-count pillowcase, an ice pack wrapped around her ankle, and a glass of lemonade… complete with a little umbrella Kevin found in the kitchen cabinet—a leftover from Callie. Or so he claimed.

  After announcing his intentions to stay with her for the night, he’d spent several moments convincing her she needed to stay off her ankle so it would heal faster. The best way to do that, of course, would be with his help. She didn’t accept help easily, but the heat flaring in his eyes as he said, “So I can take care of you,” had done more to convince her than anything else.

  Although the subject of sex hadn’t come up, an excited rush skittered across her shoulders as she thought about what the night might bring. She hoped like hell his idea of caretaking amounted to more than making tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner.

  The side gate opened and a tall, dark-haired woman stepped into the backyard. Spencer jumped out of the pool and rushed her. “Mamma, I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with Uncle Kevin and Michaela and Ms. Sam. Can I, please?”

  His mother’s gaze slid across the patio to Michaela, who clamored out of the pool to serve as Spencer’s backup, then to Sam. She wore an odd expression as she cut her eyes to Kevin, then turned back to Spencer.

  “Sorry, buddy. Uncle Kevin left a message saying you guys were here instead of the beach. I tried calling back, but I didn’t get an answer, so I decided to come on over and find you. Since I’m here, you need to come with me.”

  “Sorry,” Kevin said. “I’ve had my phone on vibrate.”

  His sister arched her brows and opened her mouth, but Kevin gave a sharp shake of his head to cut her off as Spencer leapt in with more begging.

  “Please, mamma. Why can’t I stay?”

  Kevin tossed him up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Your mamma said it’s time to go.” He spun around so he faced Marianne and mouthed, “Can he come back tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” She shrugged. “Other than mass, I don’t have any plans.”

  Kevin gave Spencer a hug and set him on his feet. “Your mamma says you can come back tomorrow, but only if you behave tonight. Deal?”

  Spencer stuck out his tiny fist and bumped Kevin’s. “Deal. Is Michaela gonna be here tomorrow too?”

  “Uh…” Kevin spun around to Sam. “Yes?”

  Only a fool would pass up the opportunity to do this again. “Sure.”

  “Ya
y.” Michy and Spencer celebrated the victory while a strange vibe passed between Kevin and his sister.

  Sam realized she and Michaela hadn’t been introduced, so maybe his sister was trying to figure out who the strays in Kevin’s yard were, without coming right out and asking.

  “I’m Sam, by the way. Michaela and Spencer go to afterschool together.” She pushed to a sitting position and began to stand, then glanced down and stopped. “I’ve wanted to talk to you about arranging some playdates with the kids, but I’m usually too late to catch you.”

  Marianne winced as she approached. “Ow, that looks painful.” Extending her hand, she said, “I’m Marianne Mazze. Spencer talks about Michaela all the time. It’d be great to get them together.” Marianne turned to Kevin and grinned. “Maybe we could leave both kids with Kevin sometime and grab lunch or something.”

  Sam felt her eyes light up. “That sounds wonderful.”

  Kevin rocked back on his heels and smiled at Marianne. “Maybe you could keep both while Sam and I grab dinner.”

  Marianne’s mouth went slack, but she quickly recovered. “Uh, sure. I could do that.” She grabbed Spencer’s towel and glasses from the chair. “Okay, buddy. Let’s go. Where’s your shoes?”

  After gathering his shoes and change of clothes from the house, Spencer told Sam good-bye, then ran to the gate where his mom and Kevin waited.

  “Sam, it was nice to meet you.” As she freed the latch on the gate, Marianne frowned and asked Kevin, “Can you help me with something real quick?”

  He exhaled sharply and nodded. “Of course.”

  He ruffled Michy’s hair, who’d run to the gate, looking like her best friend was leaving forever. “Don’t look so sad, piccolina. He’ll be back tomorrow.” He nodded to Sam. “I’ll be right back and we can figure out what’s for dinner.”

  “More than tomato soup and grilled cheese?” Sam asked hopefully.

  Kevin crinkled his nose and chuckled. “Yeah. I’d planned on more than that.”

  Sam’s smile grew as she mentally rubbed her hands together. Me, too.