* * *
Sam spent the rest of the day trying—unsuccessfully—to get her head on straight. No matter what she did, where she stopped, who she spoke with, she thought of Kevin. The worst came when she closed her eyes to try and contain her pounding headache. The second her eyes closed, Kevin’s face appeared, just as he’d been last night, nose to nose with her, asking, “Do you trust me?”
Anger and hurt, at him as well as herself, made her skin feel like it would boil off. She should’ve read the warning signs—the constant phones calls, easily explained away as Lizilla—but she hadn’t. Maybe she’d just refused to examine things too closely for fear of what she’d find.
The ringing doorbell made her jump and she nearly launched her pizza right off her plate. She hadn’t been up for cooking—turns out she wasn’t into eating, either—so she’d taken the easy way out and ordered pizza. Michy had been thrilled to have pizza twice in one week, so the arrangement worked well for both of them.
She set the plate and untouched slice on the coffee table and limped to the door. An Angelina Jolie lookalike with dark eyes and gorgeous black hair stood on the stoop. Lizilla was supermodel gorgeous—exactly the kind of woman she envisioned Kevin with. The two of them certainly made more sense than he and Sam. Faced with the full reality of the situation, a fresh wave of anger and hurt pressed against her chest and nearly buckled her knees.
Not seeing a need to play dumb—she’d played that part for long enough—she said, “You’re Lizbeth.”
The Angelina lookalike smiled, not in an evil I’m-going-to-cut-your-heart-out way, but with soft sympathy. “I am.”
Before Sam dove into the apologies and explanations, Michy ran to the door, curious about their visitor. She skidded to a stop, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. She didn’t know who Angelina Jolie was, so she probably thought the princess from Beauty and the Beast had landed on her doorstep. “Wooowww… Who are you?”
Lizbeth flashed a movie star-worthy smile that made Samantha feel like a troll. As she knelt to eye level with Michy, Sam found herself wanting to grab her long, flowing top and hold it off the ground so she didn’t get dirty. “Hi there. You must be Michaela.”
Michy’s eyes widened farther as amazement and wonder lit her expression. Turning back to the Angie double, she whispered, “How’d you know?”
“I’m a friend of Kevin’s, and he’s told me all about you.”
Michy’s eyes lit up and she hopped on one foot, like Tigger bouncing on his tail. “He did? What’d he say?”
“Let’s see…” She tapped a perfectly manicured nail against her chin and looked up, thinking. “You go to afterschool with Spencer, your favorite book is The Poky Little Puppy, and you make the world’s best pancakes.”
Michy giggled and bounced harder. “Yep. Kevin taught me.” Another couple of hops. “What else did he say? Did he tell you about my mommy, too?”
“Okay,” Sam said, grabbing Michy by the shoulders to spin her around toward the living room. “That’s enough questions. Go watch Dora.”
Michy skipped off and Lizbeth stood to face Sam, her smile still intact. “He told me quite a bit about you, too.”
God Almighty, did the man not have a caring bone in his body? Why would he talk to his girlfriend about the woman he’d been cheating with? She never would’ve believed him to be this big of an ass, but once again, she’d proven to be the world’s worst judge of character.
“I had no idea—”
Lizbeth threw up a hand to cut her off. “Please, don’t. May I come in for a moment?”
Dread sank in Sam’s gut at having this confrontation, but she couldn’t shut the door on Lizbeth and deprive her of the opportunity to say her peace. Unlike Sheila, Sam hadn’t realized Kevin was involved with someone else. There hadn’t been pictures of Lizbeth lying around while she and Kevin screwed each other’s brains out, but that didn’t change the facts. Lizbeth deserved the chance to say all the things Sam wished she’d said to Sheila.
She nodded and stepped to the side, allowing Lizbeth to enter. “Let’s go into the kitchen.” She didn’t want Michy to hear her mom get cussed out, but also, for some stupid reason, she didn’t want Michy knowing Kevin was a worthless, lowlife, scum-sucking jerk. The least she could do was allow her daughter to hold on to a little of her hero worship, so she wouldn’t be completely devastated.
Lizbeth followed her into the kitchen, looking around as they went. Their house was small and filled with well-used furniture, but it was neat and clean and the best Sam could provide. Even though she believed Lizbeth came from money and lived in a luxurious condo somewhere, she refused to be self-conscious or embarrassed about their home.
Her personal temple, however, was another matter. As she stood in Lizbeth’s shadow, she was excruciatingly self-conscious about her height, weight, and overall shortcomings. She skimmed her gaze over Lizbeth’s chest and a small flutter of satisfaction rippled through her. At least she had Lizbeth soundly beat in the boob department.
“I’m sorry,” she tried again. “I never would’ve gotten involved with Kevin had I known—”
“I didn’t come here for an apology,” Lizbeth said, once again cutting off Sam’s defense. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing.”
“What?” Sam’s breath left in a whoosh. Had Kevin somehow brainwashed this woman into believing she was at fault?
Lizbeth pulled out a chair and started to sit. “May I?”
“Ummm…” Sam scratched the side of her head, then tossed up a hand in defeat. “Sure. Can I get you something to drink?”
Lizbeth’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she laughed. “Kevin said it would be pointless to come here. But you haven’t tossed me out yet and even offered a drink. I’ve gotten much further than he thought I would.”
Okay, so maybe some of what Kevin said about Lizbeth was true. He’d given the impression she’d lost her mind, and Sam had to agree with him, at least on that point. She crossed her arms over her stomach and leaned against the counter. “If you’re not here for an apology or to rip me to shreds for trying to steal your man, why are you here?”
“I want you to give Kevin another chance.”
“You really are crazy.” The words escaped before she could stop them, and heat crawled around her neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… Well, I sort of did mean it.”
Lizbeth’s laugh was deep and husky… and genuine.
What the hell?
Sam ran a hand over her forehead and wondered if she’d made a mistake and let a madwoman into her home.
“Kevin was never my man. We’ve dated off and on for a while, but he never cared for me the way he does for you. He never looked at me the way he did while talking about you.” She glanced toward the opening of the living room and her eyes misted over. “He’s absolutely smitten with Michaela and will be devastated if he loses the two of you.”
Her shoulders sagged and she swallowed hard. “The only time I’ve ever seen Kevin upset was when his friend, Kat, was injured in a serious accident a year and a half ago. He was beside himself, sick with fear for her and Erik, and filled with anguish of all they would lose if Kat didn’t recover.” A single tear streaked down her cheek as she swallowed. “He showed the same grief-stricken expression today as you drove away.”
Sam’s lungs seized, forcing her to consciously draw air in and out. She wanted to believe Lizbeth spoke the truth—why would she lie?—but she had a hard time understanding why he would talk to Lizbeth about the woman he cheated with.
“I’m so sorry your hurt has been compounded by him talking about me. He cheated on you, and then he had the audacity to cry to you about losing me?”
Lizbeth shook her head and patted the table. “Please sit and talk with me.”
Sitting was better than sliding to the floor, which she feared might happen at any moment, so she pulled out the chair and planted her ass.
“Kevin wanted out of our relationship for a long time.”
> “Then why didn’t he get out?” What was it with men? They wanted out of relationships, but they didn’t have the balls to say so. Cowards.
Lizbeth fiddled with a button on her blouse. “Sometimes I feel like an old maid who will never find the right guy to settle down with. Kevin and I weren’t right for each other permanently, but being with someone is better than being alone. He’s such a nice guy. I knew he wouldn’t dump me before the wedding, especially with both of us in the wedding party. To further hedge my bets, I convinced my sister to have the wedding at Kevin’s. She wanted an outdoor wedding, and his house on the river is the perfect setting. But I wanted the wedding there for personal gain.”
It certainly sounded as if Lizbeth had gone to a lot of trouble to trap Kevin, but he was a grown man who could’ve ended things if he wanted. At some point, one has to take responsibility for their own happiness and stand their ground. Even if it means being unkind.
“He still should’ve ended things with you before…” She waved her hand awkwardly. “Me.”
“He tried. He told me on Sunday to expect him on Monday, that we needed to talk. His intent was clear, so I went to Raleigh and refused to take his calls.”
“That was still after he and I… got together.”
“Tell me something. How aggressively did Kevin pursue you?”
“He didn’t. Not at all. It started out by the kids arranging to meet at the Boardwalk. I fell and hurt my ankle, and Kevin invited us back to his place so the kids could swim, and I would have help with Michy. I’m not defending him. It just didn’t start out as anything but friendship.”
Lizbeth smiled and nodded once, then raised her brows and gave Sam a go on look.
She thought back to what happened next. Kevin carrying her to the backyard… wanting to kiss her, but holding himself back…
When she performed her pseudo-striptease, he’d been hot and cold, interested but upset. She’d been confused by his mixed signals, but now she understood. He was attracted, but hadn’t wanted to be. He’d tried to be the gentleman, to keep his distance, but…
“I was the pursuer,” she said quietly. She snapped her gaze to Lizbeth’s. “I misunderstood something Wade said and had the impression Kevin was free. He didn’t respond to my advances until…” He found her toy box.
Lizbeth smiled knowingly. “Kevin’s a man. He’s built like a brick shit house—”
Samantha laughed at the potty word coming from Lizbeth’s perfect crimson mouth.
“—but he’s only so strong. He already knew in his heart I wasn’t the one. I suspect he also knew, even then, that you are.”
“He should’ve been upfront and told me in the beginning about you.”
Lizbeth nodded thoughtfully. “When was the beginning?”
Sam took a deep breath before dropping her head onto her folded arms. When was the beginning? At the job site when she started making plans to seduce him? At the beach when he was being helpful? As he carried her to the backyard and almost kissed her, but didn’t?
That would’ve been the optimum time, or when she’d been doing her lawn chair striptease.
But he hadn’t and things progressed, and now, here she sat with his girlfriend, ex-girlfriend, whatever, listening to what a great guy he was and how she should give him a second chance.
Lizbeth took a deep breath, as if to speak, but didn’t.
“Go ahead,” Sam said, looking up. “Why stop now?”
Lizbeth played with the fringe on her handbag, still unsure. “I understand you’ve…” She paused and pressed her lips together. “I don’t have specifics, but I know you’ve been hurt in the past. Kevin is furious with himself for being no better than the others who let you down.”
Pressure built in Sam’s chest as emotion clogged her throat.
“If he didn’t want to hurt me, someone he marginally cares about, can you imagine how distraught he is about hurting you, someone he loves?”
Sam shook her head. “He doesn’t love me.”
Lizbeth smiled as she pushed to her feet and gathered her bag. “Please think about what I’ve said.”
Sam sat in the chair, numb and unable to move, as she watched Lizbeth’s retreating back.
Someone he loves.
Did he love her? Did she love him? The better question was did she want to love him?
She’d sworn to never get seriously involved with anyone again. She’d started this thing with Mazze as a sexual game, no attachments, simply a now-and-then bed partner. She hadn’t meant to fall for him. It just happened…
Her breath left in a whoosh as she recalled his defensive words regarding Michael.
“Sometimes, it’s not always that black and white. Sometimes, things happen, even when people don’t set out to hurt those they care about.”
She’d been furious with his defense of Michael, but now she understood his intent. He wasn’t defending Michael, but himself.
As much as she hated to admit it, he was kind of right. She just conceded to doing the same thing. She hadn’t intended to fall in love; it just happened.
With a deep breath and trembling hands, she picked up her cell and dialed his number.
He answered on the first ring, his voice filled with anxious hopefulness. “Hey.”
Hearing his voice set squirrels loose, scurrying out of control around her belly. She locked down on her emotional reaction and kept her focus on her reason for calling.
“I have one question for you.”
After a long pause, he said, “Okay.” Hopefulness evaporated, anxiety remained.
“I accept responsibility for being the pursuer. I misunderstood something Wade said and thought you were available. But at the pool on Saturday, when I came on to you, why didn’t you stop me?”
His breath left in a rush of muttered Italian.
“If there is any chance of us working this out, you won’t lie to me. You won’t even think about lying to me.”
He ejected another curse before his voice grew soft and reverent, as if praying. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me, and sexy as hell. You don’t seem to see yourself the same way, though. You watched me from the corner of your eye, like you were unsure and needed to reaffirm my interest. I didn’t stop you, because I didn’t want to give you any reason to be insecure.”
“So I was a pity fuck?”
“What? No! Shit.”
He sounded so distraught; she couldn’t help but laugh.
“You had my attention the moment you slammed your hands onto your hips and your shirt pulled tight, showing perfect creamy cleavage that made my mouth water.”
Without thought, she reached down and gathered the sides of her blouse.
“I was dying to see your eyes, to know their color.” She pictured him pacing back and forth, rubbing his neck. “I prayed for the strength to get through two weeks, to get the fucking wedding behind me so I could end things with Lizbeth. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. Hell, I was trying to make sure no one got hurt. I screwed up.” He took another long pause and released a deep exhale. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m so damned sorry.”
That she believed. The crack of his voice and the desperate unspoken plea for forgiveness nearly broke her resolve. But she had some thinking to do and other issues she needed to work through before she made a decision about Kevin. This situation with him made her realize how much angry bitterness toward Michael and her brothers she still harbored. She wasn’t sure she could forgive Kevin, but she’d never be able to move forward with him, or anyone else, until she forgave the hurts of the past.
“I have some thinking to do. Is the job offer still open, regardless of what happens with us personally?”
“Absolutely. Please, please take the job. Marianne is threatening to feed me to the alligators for screwing that up.” His voice took on his normal light, teasing tone, but then grew sad again. “Regardless of what you decide about me, Mazze Builders is a strong, solid company and will be around for a l
ong time. We’ll take care of you and Michaela and would be honored to have you work with us.”
As he talked, the emotion filling her chest expanded and began to overflow. When he finished speaking, she… the one who never, ever cried, wiped a tear from her cheek
“Tell Marianne I’ll let her know something by the end of the week.”
Chapter Nineteen
After hanging up the phone with Kevin and getting Michy into bed, Sam made her way to the bathtub where she cried her way through bouts of anger, despair, grief, and back to rage. She soaked so long, she needed to drain the cold water and refill three times. Despite all her losses over the past several years, she hadn’t cried since her dad’s funeral.
When her family liquidated the business and sold off everything she and her dad built, she went into shock. When shit hit the fan with Michael, she numbed to everything, and after the numbness wore off, she refused to shed a single tear over his worthless, cheating, lying ass.
Once the stockpiled tears started falling, she experienced the mother of all cleansings. Emotionally exhausted, she expected to collapse into a deep sleep, but as she crawled into bed—where Kevin’s scent surrounded her and she found reminders of their time together everywhere—sleep eluded her. By two, she’d come to the conclusion she might need to burn her bedroom furniture and start all over.
At three, she gave up and moved to the couch, where she managed to sleep in ten and fifteen minute spurts. Enough to make her miserable, not enough to count toward any real rest. At four, she got her cell and dialed Michael. He and Sheila disrupted her entire life, so she found it difficult to feel bad about costing them a few hours of sleep.
After twenty minutes, she learned that, if she believed Michael, Sheila had been the pursuer. Feeling neglected by Sam, he succumbed to Sheila’s advances on an overnight business trip to Charlotte. He wasn’t sorry the affair happened and wouldn’t change anything.
Her next phone call went out to fidiot brother number one, Trey.
Crossing Lines Page 18