Samantha shrugged, slipping into an easy smile. A little too easy. Jack’s eyes narrowed.
“I was a late bloomer,” she told him. “Didn’t help that I scared the shit out of the boys I went to school with and that my dad regularly brandished a gun at anyone who looked at me sideways,” she joked.
“So who was he?” Jack asked, pushing for casual though his gut clenched a little. What bothered him so much? This was eons ago. Before he knew she existed.
“Just some guy I met in college,” she dismissed lightly as the waiter set down hors d’oeuvres of peppered duck and goat cheese terrine accompanied by a dozen Misty Point oysters. “Divine,” she sighed.
“Thought you’d like it,” Jack winked, serving her first.
Samantha thanked him, trilling with pleasure at the tastes.
“So was this guy your first love?” Jack asked, picking up the thread again after a few succulent bites.
“Was who my first love?”
Jack felt his shoulders tense. “So he was.”
Samantha glanced at him. “Who? V-card guy?”
“This guy you don’t feel comfortable talking about after all these years.”
Samantha sipped her wine, tucking into another oyster. Jack had started to learn to decipher her moods though she communicated so little with her face. He felt the wall again. He wanted to push against it, test its edges.
“I can see why you’re a good poker player,” he told her. “But I bet I’m a better guesser than you are a bluffer.”
Samantha chewed her duck, her expression pleasantly inscrutable.
Jack continued, feeling a little reckless. “V-card guy broke your heart. It took you years to recover. Maybe you still love him a little,” he guessed, his own heart squeezing harder at the thought that she was in love with someone else once, now, or ever.
“He was just a guy, Jack,” Samantha responded. “And it was a hundred years ago. Why do you care? I’m with you now,” she pointed out.
The waiter poured more wine into her glass. She took the moment to sit back from him, observing.
“Because I’ve become a jealous, love-sick asshole apparently,” Jack answered, reaching forward to take her hand. “The very idea of you with someone else, loving someone else…makes me—”
“He was a photographer,” she interrupted, her mask slipping a little. She gifted him with a small, rueful smile. “It’s sort of the ridiculous adage, I suppose—the artist falling in love with his muse. And I bought it.” Her fingers fiddled with the stem of her wine glass. “I was fooled. And I don’t like remembering that, I guess.” She glanced away, taking a sip.
“At least you didn’t get a nick on your chin,” Jack joked, trying to lighten the mood after he’d been the one to darken it.
“No,” Samantha agreed. “I suppose in that sense, I got away unscathed.”
But she hadn’t.
He knew it. But he didn’t want to pursue it. Because as much as he wanted to know, Jack suddenly didn’t want to look over the hedge. He knew intrinsically that whatever he found there, he wouldn’t like it any more than he could protect her from it. So he opened the escape hatch.
“Did I tell you about Mitch’s latest purchase?” he diverted, digging into his duck.
She picked up the switch in topic readily. “What ludicrous amount of money did he spend this time?”
“You know the British graffiti artist, Banksy? He bought a life-sized photo of one of his New York ambush tags showing two British bobbies making out next to a wooden pallet. He’s thrilled with it. He wants to stick it in the lobby at the office,” he laughed. “He’s being unbearable.”
“Seriously?” She shook her head in wonderment. “I don’t know what would be more shocking to your business partners—two guys in a passionate embrace next to the elevator banks or the fact that it’s British officers.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “I was actually more shocked that he was willing to cough up a few thousand for the photo and the frame. It’s graffiti, for chrissakes! Isn’t the whole idea that it’s meant to be free to look at? Isn’t it the most democratic kind of art?”
“I love that you’re such a businessman,” Samantha smirked. “The first two shockers probably didn’t really cross your mind.”
“Eh,” Jack shrugged. “Whatever goes on between two consenting adults is their business. Speaking of which, we’re going to plow through the rib-eyes when they arrive because I’m going to take you home and show you exactly what two consenting adults do in private.” He wagged his brows, making her laugh.
God, how he’d become addicted to that sound in such a brief time.
Chapter 18
November—Saturday night, a week later
The Whitney, Chicago
S A M A N T H A
“You lying LIAR. I know he’s here! Where is he? Where are you keeping that beautiful man? Is he strapped to the bed?” Willa asked as she pushed past Sam and into her penthouse like she owned the place. “Wait, is Jack into that? Cause I’m down to watch. For real,” Willa declared, spinning around, hand on hip, waiting for Sam to answer.
“Well, hello, Sam! So nice to see you even though it’s been a month and I’m so busy with my hands down Carey’s pants that I can’t see my friends,” Sam quipped. She swept past Willa into the kitchen. She’d just opened a bottle of pinot noir before Willa’s characteristically dramatic arrival.
“Diva, please. If you knew what that boy had in those pants, you wouldn’t blame me one bit,” she replied, plopping down on one of her bar stools with a smug smile.
Sam had to admit, Willa looked better than good. She looked happier than Sam had ever seen her. Willa had always had sass. Now she had a sparkle in her eyes that was verging on contagious.
“I grew up with him, and he had this disconcerting period where he wanted to be naked all the time. Drove his parents’ nuts,” Sam told her. “I know exactly what’s going on down there. So where the hell have you been?” Sam asked, handing Willa the glass. “Cheers.”
“Mmmm,” Willa savored the wine. “That’s some good shit, gurl. I love drinking with you. You’re like a high-end alcoholic. The people I’m used to drinking with have a hard time paying for Boone’s. Now where was I?” she pressed one long finger to her chin. “Oh my God! Carey has some ridiculous moves in bed. I mean, I haven’t come like that since—well, let me think, EVER. And he does this thing with his cock—”
“ENOUGH!” Sam stopped her, holding up her hand. “I can’t handle it. Seriously,” she insisted as Willa opened her mouth to retort. “I cannot discuss sex acts and Carey in the same sentence. You’ll send me into counseling for life. Stop.”
Willa rolled her eyes. “You’re a goddamn prude, Sam. But if we can’t discuss my sex life—now that I have one worth discussing—then we’ll just have to dissect yours. What’s going on with Sir Makes-Me-Hot?”
Sam laughed, hiding her smile behind her wine glass. Just the thought of Jack made her feel disconcertingly happy. She shifted back and forth between enjoying her bliss and not trusting it, depending on the day.
“Disturbingly well,” she admitted. “He’s crazy for putting up with my schedule, but the times we are together, it’s been pretty good so far.”
“Where is he tonight?”
“Bulls game with his brother and niece. They’re religious sports fanatics.”
“Oh! Man after my own heart. Let’s turn it on while we chat. When did you get a television?”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Carey’s housewarming present. He put it in while I was in Dubai, the sneaky bastard.”
“So does Jack have a suite?” Willa asked, getting up and searching for the remote.
“Floor seats.”
Willa’s eyes widened. “Dayum. We need to get invited next time. Oh! Maybe we’ll see them on the sidelines,” she commented while she surfed for the right channel. When she got to it, the game was still in the first quarter, playing Dallas. Willa glanced at her. “Now who do you
root for? If you say Dallas, we may have to break up.”
“I am a Texan,” Sam drawled, following her into the living room with the wine.
“Psssffft, bullshit. You haven’t lived in Texas in years. You’re a Chicagoan now. You better own it, hunty.” They sipped their wine, watching the game for a minute, hooting at a close up of Derrick Rose. “Wait—that’s him, isn’t it?” Willa asked, pointing a finger toward the crowd on the screen.
Sure enough, Jack, Maddie, and Jaime were seated courtside center. Jack was sipping a beer with his arm around the back of Maddie’s chair. Her dad was handing her a hot dog.
“Who’s the kid? Wait, is hunty’s man a baby daddy?” Willa asked, surprised. “And who’s Jack’s skinny twin? Christ, that guy’s friggin’ hot too!”
Sam laughed, covering her mouth. “You must have an Italian man fetish. Those are the Roman brothers. Maddie is Jaime’s daughter.”
“Dear God, to be in between that sandwich,” Willa sighed, hand to chest. “Is he single?”
“What?” Sam shook her head. “You’re already tossing Carey aside for Jaime?”
“Hey, I am entitled to pursue multiple interests as long as everyone’s on the same page,” Willa answered, fanning her neck. “Though I won’t lie, I am really into Carey right now. He’s so great, it kind of freaks me out sometimes. I’ve had so many shitty relationships with shitty men, I feel like it’s my God-given right to finally have a good experience but…” She trailed off, taking another sip of her wine. She fiddled for a moment with the bank of colorful bangles she had on one arm.
“You feel like it’s too good, and you can’t help but worry it’s a delusion?” Sam suggested gently.
Willa slanted her a wry look. “Baby, you know insecurity isn’t my jam. That’s not how I am. But whenever I feel remotely this good—I can’t help but think the other shoe will drop,” she admitted. “Carey is such a good man. He’s a gentleman, he’s open to new things, he’s respectful; he tries to put me first. He surprises me with nice things like weekend getaways instead of midnight calls from Cook County lockup or five-digit debts.” Willa’s mouth twisted. “It’s like now that I’m finally getting everything I thought I wanted, I don’t know what the hell to do with it.”
“Grab it and run,” Sam shrugged. “That’s what I’m doing anyway. I feel like I’m stealing every time I’m with Jack. He’s so passionate and effusive and…so Italian.” Sam paused, thinking about how different he was from any of the men she’d ever experienced intimacy with. “Jack’s just so affectionate all the time, I’m just—I’m guess I’m a little overwhelmed,” she admitted.
Willa nodded, sipping her wine. “So how fucked up is this? I counsel women all day long on what healthy relationships look like, and now that I’m in one, Carey says, ‘I love you,’ and the first thing I think is, ‘Are you sure?’”
Sam’s eyes widened. “He dropped the L-bomb?”
Willa looked at her in surprise. “I thought you talked.”
Sam shook her head. “Not about this stuff. Chinese wall when it comes to our personal lives.”
“You’re best friends! How is that even possible? And he knows you’re dating Jack,” Willa pointed out.
“Like I know Carey’s dating you. That’s the extent of it. We’re more like siblings. We’re close, but we don’t always have to discuss everything. You forget we got good at this in the military,” Sam pointed out. “There was a lot we couldn’t talk about for years.”
Willa whistled. “So before me, who did you talk to about this stuff?”
Sam shrugged. “Not much to talk about. The longest-running thing I had going was in college. Ever since, it’s been short-term, mutually beneficial set-ups. Not much to dissect there.”
“So you don’t know anything about me and Carey?” Willa asked again.
“Not really,” Sam answered. “You can talk to me about it, though. As long as it doesn’t involve anything that will traumatize me,” she warned, eyes flashing as Willa grinned wickedly. “So… Love, huh?”
Willa nodded. “He said I didn’t have to say anything. He just wanted me to know. He said he figured life was too short to not own up to what he was feeling.”
Sam grinned. “Sounds like him.”
“Yeah. He was helping me repaint some of the furniture in the rec room last week. It was just a regular night. We were eating takeout from Tamale Spaceship, for God’s sake. You know, those fire-roasted poblanos with the tomato-jalapeno sauce?”
“Stay on topic,” Sam replied, sardonic.
“Right.” Willa took a breath. “So we’re just painting and eating and arguing over the radio, and he says he’ll let me choose because he loves me.”
“Awww…” Sam teased before Willa smacked her arm with strength. “Ouch! Bitch, you’ve gotten stronger with all the self-defense classes.”
“I’ve got a good instructor.” Willa grinned. “So I kind of freak, right? Deer-in-headlights moment. And that’s when he says what he said.”
“And then…”
Willa sighs. “And then I hit him with the paintbrush and we got paint all over each other and then that freak started to—”
“Okay, I think that’s enough of the descriptive scenario,” Sam interrupted, shaking her head. “So now that you’ve had some time away from it, what do you think?”
Willa shrugged. “I think I’m not sure. I like him a great deal. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. But I’m…I’m just not there yet,” she confessed, pouring more wine. “Is that awful?” she asked.
Sam tucked her legs under her, resting her head against her hand as she considered her friend.
“I think you have every right to be cautious, and you’re going to come to your own conclusions on your own time. Carey is pretty intuitive. That’s probably why he’s not pushing.”
Willa nodded but remained quiet. They watched the game for a bit before catching another good look at Jack and Jaime on the sidelines.
“So what’s the story? Jack tell you how he feels yet?” Willa asked, gesturing toward the flat screen.
“All the time. Constantly,” Sam replied. “He’s so damn verbal I want to gag him sometimes.” Sam’s lips pressed into a straight line. “He thinks he’s in deep because he wants to be with someone longer than a few dates. He’s not in love—it’s just infatuation.”
“Why?” Willa questioned, brows raised. “Why wouldn’t that hot-ass motherfucker love you? You’re so cuddly!” Willa teased, leaning forward to try to pinch her cheek. Sam swatted her hand away, laughing.
“Lady, just because ‘cuddly’ is my middle name…” Sam joked.
“So why do you think it’s just infatuation?” Willa pressed.
Sam thought about it. “Well, for one thing, I don’t think he’s ever dated a woman who didn’t fawn over him. And for another, I don’t give a damn about his money, his power, or his connections. So he knows I’m only with him for him.”
“Aren’t you richer than Croesus?” Willa asked. “Don’t you own like half the oil in Texas?”
Sam shrugged. “I’m not sure who’s richer than who, largely because it doesn’t matter and also because I don’t bother keeping track. But I think that’s a big thing for him, even though he never mentions it,” Sam confided. “I think he just expects people to look at him a certain way or want something from him. The fact that I don’t…” She paused. “I think he couldn’t believe I wasn’t after him for something. And then he was frustrated I wasn’t after him at all. Now, I guess we’re just sort of finding a rhythm.”
“So what’s the problem, diva?”
“There is no problem. Maybe that’s the issue,” Sam shrugged. “When we’re together, whether it’s at one of those fancy fundraisers or drinking longnecks and playing cards, it feels easy. Except—” Sam glanced away.
“…except when he wants something more from you than you’re willing to give,” Willa surmised, unerringly on point.
Sam’s eyes snapp
ed back to her. “You’re goddamn irritating when you’re right.”
“So he’s letting down barriers, and you aren’t,” Willa concluded.
Sam shifted, feeling a shard of discomfort. “I think that’s the other big reason why I think he’s just infatuated. Since he knows I’m not with him for the usual reasons, he’s more open. He’s experiencing things he probably hasn’t felt before because he knows I’m not trying to get something from him.” She paused, sipping her wine. “Willa, I honestly don’t think he’s ever been in love before.”
“Psshaw, he’s a grown-ass man, babe. I’m sure he’s been smacked over the head by cupid before,” Willa replied confidently.
“I just worry,” Sam confessed. “He’s completely into this, you know? The trust level is—”
“Incomprehensible,” Willa finished for her. “I was like that when Carey just put it out there like… ‘Hey, here’s my heart. Can you watch it for a sec? ’kay, thanks.’ Seriously. What the fuck is that?”
“Exactly,” Sam agreed. “All I can think is…run for cover, Jack.”
“I think it’s because we think the novelty will eventually wear off. We’re not the norm for these guys.”
“Shit, Willa, who in the hell are we the norm for?”
Willa threw her head back and laughed. “True that.” She sipped her wine. “So Jack may be more willing to expose himself than he has in the past, but he’s going to expect a little give-for-get, baby girl. You think he’s okay with sticking to your ‘you-stay-over-there’ method of loving?”
Sam shrugged. “If he’s not, this won’t go much farther, I suppose. We’ll have to focus on dissecting your love life moving forward,” she smiled.
“I don’t think I need dissecting as much as a fifth of bourbon and a crash helmet,” Willa replied drily.
“You think Carey’ll let you down?” Sam asked, surprised.
Complicated Creatures: Part One Page 28