Size Matters

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Size Matters Page 10

by Alison Bliss


  “No buts about it. Your grandfather and I are not so old-fashioned that we’d separate a couple who are in love and about to be married. Besides, this way, you won’t have to sneak into Sam’s room later tonight. I know how wild and crazy two young lovers can be.”

  Sam’s brows gathered over his eyes as he glanced back at the full-size bed. Leah cringed, knowing what he must be thinking. The bed suddenly seems a lot smaller than it had a few seconds before.

  The moment her grandmother left the room and shut the door behind her, Leah cleared her throat. “Um, I had no clue she would do that. I’m sorry. I can just sleep on the floor or something.”

  Sam gave her a withering look and pulled her bag from her hand, setting it back on the bed. “You’re not sleeping on the floor. If either of us were to do that, then it would be me. But we’re both adults here. There’s no reason why we can’t just share the bed. It will look more legitimate if anyone comes in while we’re sleeping anyway.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, I tend to take up a lot of room. I’m…bulky.” She grinned to show him she was teasing.

  “I really wish you’d stop saying shit like that about yourself. I’m bigger than you and going to take up way more room than you ever would. Chances are, you’re going to feel like we’re sleeping in bunk beds…with you on top.”

  Liquid heat trickled down her spine and swirled in her abdomen. “Well, I was just trying to make the whole situation less awkward for you.” And for her. Because no way was she going to get much sleep with Sam lying next to her for two nights.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know why you think sharing a bed with you would make me uncomfortable. It’s fine. Doesn’t bother me at all.”

  Of course it doesn’t. Because he isn’t the least bit attracted to me. She sighed inwardly and tried to keep her tone even. “Okay then. Do you want to freshen up before dinner? If so, the bathroom is right through that door.”

  “No, that’s all right. I only worked a few hours this morning to finish up a job, but since I had sawdust all over me, I took a shower before I picked you up. I’m good.”

  “Well, then I guess it’s time to go back out and face the firing squad.”

  * * *

  Sam and Leah left their bags behind, and he followed her down the hall toward the living room, where he spotted her grandfather sitting alone on the couch.

  Leah glanced out the window at the sprawling deck. “Where are the others, Grandpa?”

  The man never looked up from the television, where audience members clapped wildly in the background. “They’re downstairs layering the picnic table with butcher paper. As soon as they’re done with it, we’ll go down and eat. If you two want to give them a hand, we can eat sooner.”

  “Oh, hell no,” Sam said, plopping down on the sofa next to Leah’s grandfather. “I’m on vacation. The only thing I’m doing this weekend is relaxing.”

  Sam’s crass tone had Leah cringing, but he ignored it and stretched out his long legs, kicking one booted foot over the other. He was just warming up for the show he planned to put on for her family.

  “Well, don’t get too comfortable,” Jack said, smiling. “Otherwise, I’ll never get rid of you.”

  Sam chuckled. “What are you watching? Some kind of trivia game show?”

  The old man stared at him for a moment before replying cynically, “About the only thing the government doesn’t try to stop me from doing nowadays.”

  The well-dressed announcer on the television straightened his tie and began the next question. “What was the name of Roy Rogers’ horse? Was it Warrior, Trigger, or Hercules?”

  “Hercules,” Jack stated, sounding sure of himself.

  Sam shook his head. “No. Actually, it was Trigger.”

  Grandpa’s brows hunched over his eyes as he shot Sam a perturbed look. “Yep, that’s exactly what I said.”

  Puzzled, Sam glanced to Leah and slanted his brows in question. She grinned and bit her lip, as if she were trying to swallow a giggle but said nothing.

  A contestant hit the buzzer and answered, “Trigger.”

  The announcer nodded. “Correct!”

  Grandpa’s fist pumped the air, as if the old man had answered the question correctly, and Sam let out a hearty laugh. Apparently, Leah’s grandfather had some issues with his memory. Or maybe he just didn’t like to be wrong.

  Bill entered through the front door, followed by Nancy and Penny. “Dinner’s ready.” He looked straight at Jack. “Dad, why don’t you give me a hand carrying down the pot?”

  Jack shook his head. “I’m on vacation.”

  Nancy stopped in her tracks. “Jack.”

  “Ah, hell. All right.” Jack rose to his feet and glanced at Sam. “I don’t know how that shit works for you. You’ll have to tell me your trick.”

  Sam shrugged. “A magician never gives away his secrets.”

  “Asshole,” Jack said playfully, then grinned as he headed for the kitchen.

  Moments later, Jack and Bill passed through the living room again, an oven mitt on each hand and wielding an oversized pot billowing with steam. Leah’s dad said, “Sam, if you’re not downstairs in the next five minutes, you’ll starve to death.”

  Penny followed behind them, carrying a tray of condiments, rolls of paper towels, and various other items. She swatted her son’s arm, then glanced at Sam. “Don’t listen to him. There’s plenty to go around. I wouldn’t dream of letting you go hungry.” She smiled at him before waltzing out the door and shutting it behind her.

  Sam grinned. He sort of liked the idea that the women in Leah’s family wanted to keep him well fed. Nothing to complain about there.

  He couldn’t help but like both of Leah’s grandparents. They seemed like great folks. Not only welcoming, but they were funny and made him laugh, which immediately put him at ease. But guilt loitered in his stomach, knowing that over the weekend he would probably be doing and saying things they weren’t going to approve of.

  And Penny’s earlier comment still stuck in his craw. This whole thing was supposed to be a harmless hoax. He’d never set out to trick a nice old woman into believing she’d have great-grandchildren on the way someday soon. Having kids with anyone was the last thing on his mind.

  Nancy came out of the kitchen carrying a glass of wine. “Leah, can you bring down the basket of bread on the counter? Also, would you be a dear and ask your brother to join us for dinner, please?”

  “Sure. Where is he?”

  “He’s been holed up in his room playing games on that phone of his all afternoon. I swear he hardly ever puts it down anymore.”

  Leah walked over to the hallway and shouted, “Ethan, dinner!”

  Her mother was almost to the front door when she paused mid-stride. “My goodness, Leah, I could have done that. Would it have killed you to walk down the hallway to get him? It’s not like a little exercise would’ve hurt you any.” Then she shook her head and continued outside.

  Leah glanced over at Sam, obviously checking to see if he’d overheard her mother’s shitty remark. Not only had he heard it, but he hadn’t liked it one bit. He couldn’t stop the irritation from bubbling up inside him and twisting his features into a scowl.

  No doubt Leah recognized it for what it was because she wasted no time in heading to the kitchen. Sam rose and followed her. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, Leah’s teenage brother barreled around the corner. His hair was gelled and combed to the side, and he wore a pair of khaki shorts and a tucked-in red polo shirt.

  “Long time no visit, sis,” the kid said sarcastically, grabbing a handful of grapes from the fridge and popping one into his mouth. “You’re still short, I see.”

  “And you’re still a dipshit,” Leah said, making Sam grin. Her brother may have passed her in the height department, but she apparently wasn’t about to let him forget the pecking order in which they were born.

  Sam held out his hand to her brother. “Hi, I’m Sam, the fiancé.”

&nb
sp; Ethan shook his hand, then gestured over to his sister, while chuckling. “Hope you know what you’re getting into with this one. I’ve seen her diary. Practically fell asleep while reading it.”

  “Yeah, like you know how to read?” she said, flicking his ear. “Besides, this comes from the nineteen-year-old who still wears what his mommy picks out.”

  Ethan glared at her. “Hey, I told Mom I didn’t want to wear this stupid shirt.”

  “Nothing wrong with the shirt,” Sam said casually. “If you like pink.”

  “Pink?” Ethan’s brows lowered over his eyes, and his face grew serious. “My mom said this shirt was red when we bought it.”

  Leah gave Sam a strange look, as if she wasn’t sure what he was talking about either. Because the shirt was definitely red. But Sam wasn’t about to tell her brother that. He winked at Leah, and her eyes widened before she clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing. Apparently, she found it humorous that he was trying to trick her color-blind brother into believing he was wearing pink.

  “Hmm. Well, that’s the lightest shade of red I’ve ever seen,” Sam told him, shrugging. “But don’t worry about it, kid. You look good in pastels.”

  “Uh-uh. No freakin’ way,” Ethan said, storming toward the hallway. “I’m changing my clothes. There’s no way in hell I’m wearing a pink shirt. Ever.”

  Once Ethan left the room, neither of them could hold back the laughter.

  “Oh my God. I can’t believe you just did that to my little brother. You’ve probably just scarred him for life.”

  “Well, if you loved that, wait until you see what else I have in store for the rest of your family,” Sam said with a chuckle.

  She stopped laughing, and her face turned serious. “Sam, about that…”

  The front door swung open, and Bill’s voice rang out, “Hey, lovebirds, you two coming down or what? It’s time to eat.”

  Leah picked up the bread basket and sighed. “We’re coming, Dad.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Leah motioned for Sam to follow her and led him downstairs to the large picnic table in the backyard, where her father and her grandpa unceremoniously dumped the contents of the pot onto the white butcher paper. A mound of piping hot crab, whole shrimp, spicy sausage, small red potatoes, and half ears of corn tumbled out, all adorned with the special Cajun seasoning her Grandma used. The smell hit her nostrils, and Leah’s mouth watered.

  Friday night dinner at her grandparents’ place was easily one of her favorite things about their annual trip. Not only was it a great tradition and the food delicious, but it was the only time she ever got to witness her mother eating with her bare hands…and actually enjoying herself. She set the bread basket on the end of the table.

  Sam stood beside her, looking a little confused.

  “I take it you’ve never had the pleasure of a backyard crab boil before?” Leah asked, eyeing his face.

  He shook his head. “No, but there’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

  Ethan barreled down the stairs wearing a blue shirt as everyone took their seats. Dad asked Sam to reach into the red chest next to him and pass out the beers he’d already iced down. Sam did, handing them out across the table, one by one. When her brother held his hand out, Sam shoved a can of soda into his palm. “Sorry, kid. You’ve still got a few years to go before I pass you a beer.”

  Ethan groaned and rolled his eyes.

  Her dad grinned admiringly at Sam, the man he thought of as his future son-in-law, and sadness tugged at Leah’s heart. Not only because her father wasn’t aware that Sam would never be her husband, or his son-in-law, but because she had no doubt Sam would have made a damn good one. On both counts.

  Grandma placed a bucket of mini wooden mallets on the other end of the table and then passed out small serving dishes with lemon wedges and a trio of dipping sauces—melted butter, horse radish, and cocktail sauce—to each person. She even had ketchup for Ethan…because he was weird like that.

  “Okay, since I don’t see any plates or silverware,” Sam said, confusion tainting his voice, “you’re going to have to tell me the secret. How do we eat this?”

  Leah held up both hands and wiggled her fingers. “You already have most of the utensils you need. The wooden hammers are for breaking open the crab shells.”

  “So basically I have to work for my dinner?” A grin stretched across his face, as if he were a child and the idea of playing with his food delighted him. “Or is this one of those ‘fight to your death to see who gets the last crab’ sort of things?”

  “Bingo,” Leah said, making the others laugh. “But I should probably warn you. I always get the last crab.”

  “Oh yeah? We’ll see about that. You must have forgotten who swings a hammer for a living,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a competitive streak. Sam grabbed a wooden utensil and began digging in.

  “Oh, um, Sam. My grandma likes to say grace before we eat.”

  “Grace,” Sam said loudly, then continued to eat. The shit-eating grin he wore wasn’t lost on her though. He knew damn well what he was doing.

  Leah leaned over to him and jabbed her elbow into his ribs, though she tried to pass it off as an accident. “Oops, sorry,” she said as he winced and set down the wooden mallet. Then she turned to her family and smiled sweetly. “Go ahead, Grandma.”

  After the moment of prayer and bowed heads passed, her dad cleared his throat. “So, Sam, how did you get into the construction business?”

  “My father, actually. He was a general contractor so I guess you can say it’s in my blood. I started in his company when I was eighteen and worked my way up from flunky to crew leader to job foreman. He taught me everything I know. Then when he retired a few years ago, I took over the business.”

  “Ah, I see. Another Bank of Dad situation, huh?” Her dad winked playfully at his daughter.

  Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion, and Leah giggled. “I only had half the money to put down on the bakery,” she explained, then took a sip of her beer. “My dad loaned me the other half. His zero percent interest rate is much better than the bank’s, which makes him my favorite loan shark. He lets me keep my knee caps and everything.”

  His lips twitched, threatening to erupt into a smile. “Actually, sir,” Sam said, addressing her father, “after my parents retired, I moved here from Dallas and took over my dad’s business only in name. He didn’t bankroll my company. I’m the sole owner, but I wanted to carry on the name of his company…in his honor.”

  “Ah, I see. I’m sure that made him very proud,” her dad said, nodding his approval. “Do your parents still live in the Dallas area?”

  “No, sir. They moved to Crystal River, Florida, where my mom spends her days volunteering at a children’s hospital and my old man spends most of his time teaching free woodshop classes at a local college.”

  What the fuck? Leah elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.

  Sam coughed and wheezed out, “Actually, I think my dad, uh…charges for those classes. He’s a…selfish bastard like that.”

  “No, no. Not at all,” her dad said, shaking his head. “Your old man should get paid for teaching a valuable skill. I think what they’re doing is wonderful. They sound like great folks. Too bad they don’t live a little closer. I’d love to meet them one day.”

  Her mother cut in. “Oh! Before the wedding perhaps?”

  “Sure,” Sam said confidently, then everyone went back to quietly eating their meal.

  Whew! Okay, that wasn’t so bad. Leah relaxed her posture and folded her hands in her lap.

  Her mother smiled at them. “What are your parents’ names, Sam?”

  “David and Sharon Cooper. What do you want next—their social security numbers and blood types?”

  “Oh, goodness no. I was just thinking I should probably get your mother’s phone number from you and give her a call. With a wedding to plan, we have a lot of things to discuss.”

  Sam didn’t hesitate
with his answer. “Sorry, Nancy. That’s not going to happen.”

  Leah’s right hand shot out and latched on to his leg under the picnic table. What the hell is he doing? “Actually, Mom, what he means is—”

  “What I mean is…” His warm hand closed over Leah’s, squeezing and rubbing lightly, though his gaze never left her mom’s face. “I haven’t yet shared the news of our pending nuptials with my family. I would hate for you to ruin the surprise before I have a chance to tell them.”

  Her mother nodded. “Oh, I see. Well, we definitely wouldn’t want that.” She smiled at him. “When do you think you’ll be able to let them in on the good news?”

  Sam glanced at Leah and grinned mischievously. “Oh, I’d say in about two weeks.”

  “Two weeks? That’s a long time to wait before you share your engagement news. They must be really busy if you don’t speak to them very often.”

  Sam winced, as if he hadn’t thought of that particular angle. “I, uh…well, I wanted to tell them in person. I’m hoping to make a surprise visit in…two weeks.”

  “That’s sweet,” Grandma said. “Leah, will you be going with him?”

  Leah glanced at Sam. “Um, no. I have to work that weekend since I took this weekend off. I guess I don’t know when I’ll get to meet them.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” her mother said, then turned her attention back to Sam. “Well, please let me know when you tell them. I’d like to give your mother a call afterward. I’m sure your mother will be as excited as we—” She lowered her gaze and gasped. “Leah! Oh, my goodness, why aren’t you wearing an engagement ring? Did you lose it?”

  Leah tensed and glanced to the ring finger on her left hand. “Um, no. It…didn’t fit,” she said quickly, panicking that they’d forgotten something as important as a ring. Of course her mother would notice something like that. “I…er, we had to send it off to get it resized. I should have it back in…about two weeks.”

  That’s the best I could come up with? Jeez. I’m as bad as him.

  “Oh, dear. That’s too bad. I would love to have seen it on your hand. You know, if you lost a little weight, it would probably fit.”

 

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