by Alison Bliss
“Thanks,” Leah said, clearly fake-smiling until he walked away. Then she turned back to Sam with a grimace planted firmly on her face. “What the fuck was that?” she asked quietly, keeping her voice low so the other guests couldn’t hear her.
“What? The kiss or pretending to be your fiancé?”
She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Both.”
Sam ran his hand through his hair, not the least bit surprised that she was upset. “Look, I was trying to help. You were saying such awful things about yourself. I didn’t want him to—”
“To what? Think I’m pathetic? I’m not your charity case. And what about tomorrow when he learns I’m suddenly no longer engaged? What then, huh?”
“I guess I didn’t think it through that far.”
Leah sighed. “Look, I know you were trying to help, but Gavin’s mother is the town gossip and sits on the City Council with my mom.”
“Maybe he won’t tell her.”
“Are you kidding me?” Leah snorted. “Gavin lives and breathes by his mother’s opinions. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear the woman still bathes him. Although I’d love to see her face when he tells Mommy Dearest I’m engaged to someone other than her precious baby boy, I need to figure out what I’m going to tell my mom. She’s going to flip out when she hears this.”
Sam cringed. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want him to make you feel bad about yourself.”
She shook her head. “That’s funny seeing how the only guy who keeps making me feel bad about myself is you!”
“Leah, I—”
“Darling, there you are,” a voice rang out behind him.
Leah peered around him and sighed. “Oh great. Just what I freaking need right now.”
Sam turned to see an older brunette woman wearing a shimmering black, floor-length gown approach from a few tables over. “I’ve been looking for you.” Her scrutinizing gaze landed on Sam. “And I see you brought…a friend? Or is it possible you actually have a date?”
He didn’t like the way Leah winced, nor did he appreciate the prying woman standing there eyeing them with a rude smirk on her seemingly perfect face. Gavin’s busybody mother, I presume.
“Actually, I’m Leah’s fiancé,” Sam corrected, grinning ear-to-ear.
He didn’t know whose gasp was louder—Leah’s or the older woman’s. Both stood there blinking at each other for a full minute before Leah finally spoke up. “Mom, it’s not what you think!”
Mom? Shit! Wrong mother.
Sam waited for Leah’s mother to break into a tearful display or, at the very least, purse her lips into a disapproving grimace. But she didn’t. Instead her eyes lit up and her face broke out with a full-on smile.
“Fiancé? When did this happen? I didn’t even know you were seeing someone, sweetheart. Why didn’t you tell me?”
What the fuck? Why is this woman smiling? When Leah said her mother would flip out, Sam hadn’t expected that her mother would be happy about the news.
“It’s not like that, Mom. Last night, Sam and I—”
“He proposed last night?”
“Well, not exactly. I…um…” Leah looked at Sam helplessly.
“And to think I was trying to set you up with Chad Howard, the building inspector,” her mother said. “I was planning to invite him to come with us next weekend on our annual trip down to the shore.”
“Oh God. Mom, please tell me you didn’t.”
“Well, no. Not yet anyway. I wanted to make sure you didn’t mind sharing a room first.”
Just hearing that had Sam cringing. Not only was Chad Howard the asshole who delayed all of Sam’s building permits, but he was also a chauvinistic dick. It was a well-known fact he never bedded the same woman twice, and the thought of Leah sleeping with that man…
Sam’s hands clenched into fists, and a rising heat seared his insides. Over my dead body.
“Well, I guess you’ll have to forget that idea,” Sam said, smiling at her mother. “I proposed to your daughter this morning.”
* * *
Leah knew her exit wasn’t graceful.
She marched past Sam, bumping his shoulder as she did, and kept going out a side entrance that led to the parking lot.
He caught up to her as she reached the truck and spun her around. “Are you mad?”
“Mad? Oh no. I’m not mad, Sam,” Leah said as he sighed prematurely in relief. “I’m furious! What the hell were you thinking?”
He stepped back, giving her some room. “I’m sorry, okay? I was just trying to…to…I don’t know what.”
“Damn it, Sam! Now my mother thinks I’m engaged.” Leah stood by the passenger door with her arms crossed as Sam unlocked it and swung it open.
“It’s okay. You can tell her we broke up. In fact, you can even say you broke things off with me.”
“Oh, so I can be the bitch who breaks my mother’s heart and makes her cry? I don’t think so.”
“Then I’ll break up with you.”
“Before Friday?” Leah stared blankly at him. “God, you’re such an ass.” After Sam’s big announcement, she had stood there like an idiot, dumbstruck and silenced by her guilt, while her mother chatted with her fake fiancé, inviting him to join them on their weekend trip so he could meet the rest of the Martin clan. “First you agree to go on vacation with my family, and now you’re going to cancel on them?”
“Okay, so I’ll go on the trip with them then.”
“And lead them on? What the hell is wrong with you?” She climbed into the cab and pulled the door shut.
Sam walked around and slid into the driver’s seat. But instead of starting the engine, he rested his arm along the back of the bench and stared at Leah. “Maybe you should tell me what it is you expect me to do.”
“I expect you to not tell people we’re engaged when we aren’t.”
“Too late.”
“Exxxxactly.”
Sam shook his head and started the truck. He probably thought she was acting crazy—and hell, maybe she was—but it was all his fault that she was in this position with her mother. Why should he get away scot-free and leave me to deal with the shit-storm he created?
As he drove toward the bakery, Leah tried to think of a way out of this mess. But it was no use. She’d be mortified if anyone ever found out the whole thing was a sham. It was embarrassing enough that Sam felt the need to do her a “favor” by giving her a toe-curling, spine-tingling kiss. A kiss that obviously meant nothing to him. Jesus. It was a pity kiss. And a damn good one too.
After a minute of driving in silence, Sam finally spoke up. “If you’re interested, I have an idea.”
At least one of us does. “I’m listening.”
“Why don’t we continue the ruse? Let them believe we’re engaged for a little while longer…say, two weeks?”
Leah considered his words, then shook her head. “What’s the point? I still have to tell them the truth afterward.”
“Not necessarily.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “What if they hate me? Then when we break up, they’ll be relieved.”
“Why would they hate—” Leah stomach clenched as his suggestion sank in. “You’re going to be mean to my parents?”
He glanced over, giving her a “get real” look, then shifted his eyes back to the road. “No, I’m not going to be mean to them. I’m just not going to give them a reason to like me. Then they’ll beg for you to break things off with me, and you won’t have to tell them the truth.”
She squinted at him. “Why would you do that for me?”
He pulled up to the curb in front of the bakery and turned off the engine. “I did get you into this situation to begin with. Besides, I figured we could work out a little horse trade on the side. If I do this for you, then you have to do something for me.”
Leah sat a little straighter in her seat. “Something as in…”
“Well, you are an expert in oral gratification, aren’t you?” His brown eyes were doing
that weird smoldering thing again.
Leah rolled her eyes and opened her door. “Good night, Sam.”
His hand shot out and gripped hers. “Calm down. I’m just kidding with you. Well, sort of. I do want something.” Wary, she cocked her head and lifted a brow, awaiting his response. He chuckled a little. “What does a guy have to do to get some dessert around here?”
She smiled. Now that was a problem she could do something about. “I, uh, have some leftover cupcakes in the fridge from earlier today, if you’re interested.”
“I’m in,” he said, opening his door and stepping out.
As he rounded the front bumper, Leah met him on the sidewalk. She unlocked the bakery door, flipped on the lights, and Sam followed behind her as they made their way to the back room. Leah walked straight to the walk-in cooler, grabbed a cellophane-wrapped platter and a gallon of milk, then carried them back out, kicking the metal door closed behind her with her heel.
When she returned, Sam was examining a softball-size hole in the wall behind the metal swinging door. “What happened here?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. The hole was there when I leased the place. Not sure what caused it.”
“Are you going to fix it?”
Leah set the platter and milk down on the stainless steel table, not bothering to look up. “Probably not anytime soon. I don’t know how to fix it myself, and repairs like that aren’t in my budget.”
Sam joined her and sat on a nearby stool just as she peeled back the plastic wrap covering the platter. His eyes brightened, and his mouth quirked into a smile. But as he gazed at the confections, he suddenly frowned. “No chocolate?”
“Always the first to sell out,” she said, turning to grab two glasses from a cabinet behind her. She poured them both a glass of milk.
Sam lifted a red velvet cupcake, pulled back the paper from around the edges, and took a large bite. He licked the white cream cheese frosting from his lips and grinned. “Never mind. This will do.”
Leah pushed the glass of milk toward him as he shoved the other half of the cupcake into his mouth, then immediately reached for another. She watched him eat most of it before asking, “Well, what do you think?”
Sam held up one finger as he polished off the second cupcake. He took a drink of milk, then pulled the entire platter closer to him. “I think you need to fix the hole in the wall,” he finally said.
“I was talking about the cupcakes.”
“So was I,” he said, grinning. “I think we could work out one more trade, if you’re interested.”
She lifted one brow and stared at him curiously as he ripped the paper off another cupcake and stuffed most of it into his mouth. “Go on…”
He chewed, swallowed, then downed the rest of his milk in one gulp. “I’m a contractor. It’s what I do for a living—build and remodel houses. If you want, I can fix the hole in your wall, and you can pay me…in dessert.”
Leah glanced at the small pile of decorative cupcake wrappers he’d accumulated in less than five minutes and shook her head. “I don’t think I can afford you.”
Sam grinned and picked up another cupcake, this time choosing one with toasted coconut scattered across the top. “Well, think about it. You can let me know after I finish these off.”
She laughed. “You’re not going to eat eight cupcakes.”
“You’re right, I’m not. I’m going to be a gentleman and save you one. But I call dibs on the other seven.”
She smiled and grabbed one for herself, opting for the carrot cake with the vanilla icing. “Fine. Go ahead. But you’re going to make yourself sick.”
“Nah. I could eat these all day and never get sick. It’s a good thing I don’t work here or I’d weigh five hundred pou—”
He stopped talking, and his gaze met Leah’s. She felt the familiar heat in her cheeks and looked down. God. Why do our conversations always circle back to my weight?
“Leah, I didn’t mean—”
“Can I ask you something, Sam?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she lifted her eyes to his. He was sitting a little straighter than before and pursing his lips, as if he expected her to ask something he didn’t want to answer. So it surprised her when he nodded.
“Does size really matter all that much?”
“To men…or to me?”
She shrugged. “You’re a man, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but if you want me to speak for all men, then you’re going to get a vague answer. If you’re asking me for my personal preference, then you’ll get a more direct response.”
“What’s the difference?”
“The difference is…well, it’s like asking if someone prefers vanilla or chocolate. There are plenty of men who have a preference for vanilla, but there are probably just as many who’d choose chocolate. Then there are some who just don’t care—chocolate or vanilla.”
“So you’re saying it doesn’t matter to you?”
“Hell no. I’m a guy who’d choose chocolate over vanilla any day.”
Leah sighed inwardly. That didn’t answer my question.
An awkward silence followed before Sam shifted nervously on the stool. “Can I speak frankly?” he asked.
Oh. Here it comes. “Of course.”
“It’s not just men. Size matters just as much to women, if not more.”
Hmm. Not quite the response I expected. “You mean a guy’s…”
“Yeah.”
She kept her eyes glued to his to stop herself from looking down at his crotch. Damn it, Val! Why did you have to go and tell me something so personal about him? Like I needed to know he was lacking in the penile department.
She didn’t want him to feel self-conscious so she smiled and said, “Not all women are impressed by a man’s…er, size.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. That’s the biggest crock I’ve ever heard.”
“No, I’m serious,” Leah said softly, hoping she came across as sincere and genuine. And she meant it. Mostly. “You know what they say, ‘It’s not the size of the boat, but the motion of the ocean.’” She shrugged her brows suggestively to lighten the mood…and hopefully keep from hurting his feelings.
Sam leveled a gaze at her. “Leah, I’m not naïve. I’ve been with enough women to know most will choose a yacht over a dinghy any day.”
Poor guy. How many times has his dinghy been passed over or deserted for something a little more seaworthy? Leah shrugged, not wanting him to feel worse about himself than he already did. “I find it’s often the man who is obsessed with his size, more so than the woman.”
“Touché.” Sam nodded in agreement. “But I never much saw the point in worrying about whether some other guy was bigger than me. I have what I was born with, and that’s all there is to it.”
Holy shit! It can’t be that small. Can it?
Chapter Six
After a long day on the construction site, Sam pulled up in front of the bakery and dragged himself out of his truck and onto the sidewalk. Once he’d polished off the rest of her cupcakes the night before, he and Leah had parted ways, but he hadn’t gotten any sleep.
He’d tossed and turned all night thinking about Leah and her body-image issues. Sam couldn’t fix that for her, but there was one thing he could help her with. That damn hole in her kitchen wall. It was bothering him…almost as much as Leah did.
He grabbed a toolbox, a small tub of joint compound, and a leftover section of sheetrock from the back of his truck and carried them toward the Sweets n’ Treats entrance. The neon sign was off, but that didn’t stop him from turning the knob and letting himself in. It was only fifteen minutes after closing, and he figured Leah would still be puttering around inside. The loud music and God-awful singing coming from the back room confirmed his suspicion.
As he pushed open the swinging door, he saw Leah and smiled.
Ignorant of his presence, Leah shoved a push broom across the room in the opposite direction, singing off-key and
bobbing her head to the beat of the music. When she stopped suddenly, Sam thought she’d heard him come in and expected her to turn around.
But no. Instead, she began singing into the broom handle and dancing—if that was what he’d even call it—with an abnormal amount of enthusiasm.
Clearly enjoying her time alone, Leah was oblivious to her environment, much less him. She strutted a few more steps, making jerky movements with her arms and odd patterns with her feet, like she was practicing dance moves in front of a mirror.
Sam gave her points for creativity, but the flapping of her arms and the strange way she lifted her feet resembled a weird bird’s mating dance rather than a graceful white swan gliding across water. But in truth, her movements were surprisingly innovative to be so heartwarmingly dorky, which only made him grin wider as he lurked in the doorway.
He started to call out her name, but before he could, she stopped midstride and spun around to face him, eyes closed as she belted out the final lyrics. His silent patience was rewarded with an overly exuberant jiggle of her hips, one that made her ample breasts bounce beneath her tight T-shirt. The feminine flare she put into the movement defined her womanly figure and caused a strong sensation to grip Sam from deep within.
That sexy ass. Those sensually curved lips. Her well-proportioned, voluptuous body. Striking, like some sort of domestic goddess.
The “under the influence” effect she had on him was mesmerizing, as if her sheer magnetism had reached down into his pants and stroked him intimately. Then an image flashed through his mind of taking her on the nearest flat surface, pumping hard and fast into that soft, sweet body until they both collapsed from exhaustion.
It left him unsettled.
Leah was quickly becoming a kink in his woman-free lifestyle. It didn’t help that his brain had taken a momentary leave of absence, which only compounded the problem. If he had a lick of sense, he’d get the hell out of there before she saw him. And he’d stay as far away from her as possible.
But a shriek filled his ears. Shit. Too late.
With wide eyes, Leah lurched forward, clutching her chest in surprise and breathing so hard he thought she might faint. She stepped over and turned off the music. “Damn it, Sam! You scared me. What the hell are you doing here?”