by Alison Bliss
“Actually, I was thinking we’d have dinner tomorrow night.”
Leah glanced over at Sam, panic flashing in her eyes. “Um, no. I don’t think so,” she said hesitantly, as if she were trying to come up with a good reason for refusing.
But Sam saw an opportunity staring him in the face. As weird as it sounded, he needed to end his engagement to Leah before he ended up hurting her. “Sure, why not? We don’t have any other plans for tomorrow. We’d love to have dinner with you, Nancy.”
Leah’s jaw hit the floor, but she didn’t say anything.
“Terrific,” her mother said. “I have a big surprise for the two of you so don’t be late. Dinner will be at seven, and I’ll make something special for the occasion.”
Bill cleared his throat. “Um, Nancy, can I speak to you in the kitchen?”
“Sure,” she replied as her husband joined her in the house.
Once Bill stepped through the doorway, Sam shut the door and started prying the last bit of framework from the wall to disengage the door.
Leah stepped over to him with a scowl on her face. “Um, what the hell are you doing?”
“I’m taking out your dad’s old patio door,” he said, motioning to the new French doors leaning against the wall nearby. Then he pointed to the glass door he was holding in place. “Hold on to this for me while I take the screws out of the bottom, will ya? It’s not that heavy, but it’s easier with two people doing this.”
She put her hands against the door and held it up. “No, I mean what are you doing with my parents? Are you a glutton for punishment or something? Why would you agree to have dinner with them when I’d already turned them down?”
Sam reached for his drill. “Because we’re putting an end to our engagement.”
* * *
Leah loosened her grip, and the top of the door came halfway off the wall.
“Don’t let go,” Sam said, catching it before it fell on him. “Not until I get the bottom unscrewed and can grab the top from you.”
She put her hands on the door again, holding it in place while Sam got to work on the screws. But she couldn’t believe he was doing this to her again.
Sam had gone out of his way to stop her from ending their fake engagement at the Water Gardens. Why had he suddenly changed his mind? “What do you mean we’re ending our engagement? You’re the one who insisted that we keep the whole charade going.”
“I know. But I realized that it isn’t fair to keep messing with everyone’s heads. It would be better to just end things now before we get in too deep.”
Get in too deep? Then maybe he should have thought about that last night. Because she couldn’t imagine him getting any deeper than that. What kind of sick game was this man playing with her?
She should have known better than to think Sam would get over his aversion to serious relationships. As if. He held on to so much baggage from his past that he’d probably never be able to commit to any woman. Or maybe it was just her that he didn’t want to commit to.
He clearly liked her enough to have sex with her, but that wasn’t saying much since two complete strangers could just as easily have gone home together. That happened all the time in bars. But she’d thought—or maybe she’d hoped—that she had meant more to him than that.
Apparently not. The devastating weight of that realization sat on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. “You know what, Sam? You’re a real jerk.”
She let go of the door, forcing Sam to shove his shoulder into it to keep it from falling. “Leah, wait—”
But she didn’t. In a fit of rage, she cut around the side of the house and kept on walking until she made it to her car, where she climbed inside and slammed the door. After starting the engine, she pointed her car in the direction of the bakery and peeled out of the driveway. She’d barely pulled into the alley behind her store when her cell phone buzzed. She parked in her usual spot and glanced at the screen. It was a text from Sam.
I’ll be at your place around 7 pm.
Her fingers hovered over the keys, itching to type something derogatory back to him, but she didn’t do it. Maybe some of this had been her own fault. Was it possible she had talked herself into believing that Sam wanted something more from her? She didn’t think so though, because when Sam looked at her, when he said things to her…it all felt real.
The phone vibrated in her hand, and her gaze fell onto a second text.
We need to talk about last night.
So that was it. Sam wanted to break things off with her. Leah threw the cell phone onto the floorboard and shook her head.
No, this wasn’t her fault. It was all on Sam.
He knew she liked him. Standing in her bakery last night, she’d all but told him that she had feelings for him. He could have left. He could have called a halt to all of it then. But he hadn’t. Instead, he had chosen to take advantage of her by having his cake and eating it too.
Literally.
But he didn’t look at her that way. Or in any way, if she was being honest with herself. And she finally was. She’d meant nothing to him. Nothing at all. She closed her eyes as sharp pains tore through her chest, stabbing at her heart. It hurt to know how little he thought of her.
But she wasn’t going to crawl into bed and eat another pint of Ben & Jerry’s over losing a guy she never had to begin with. No fucking way. She wiped at her cheeks then took a deep, cleansing breath. She was done with feeling sorry for herself. She hadn’t done anything to deserve the way he’d treated her, and she wasn’t about to apologize for a damn thing.
When things had come to an end with Gavin, it had sent her into a tailspin, and she’d become a hermit, locking herself away for days at a time while her waist thickened from all the snacks she mindlessly reached for to soothe her broken heart.
Well, not this time.
She wasn’t going to drive herself bat-shit crazy over what Sam thought of her or waste another minute of her time on a douchebag that couldn’t see past her size or his own commitment issues. She was a good person, and no matter how big or small she was, she deserved better than that.
He could show up if he wanted, but she wouldn’t be sitting at home waiting around for Sam Cooper. Leah was going to go out and have a good time…and forget all about the fucking jerk.
Chapter Twenty-one
The silence was killing him.
Not only had Leah ignored and avoided him for the past twenty-four hours, but she wouldn’t even look at him since he’d picked her up to go to dinner with her family. When he’d arrived at the bakery, she had climbed into the cab and then spent the rest of the drive staring out the passenger window. Even the humid Texas climate couldn’t defrost the solid block of ice sitting next to him in the passenger’s seat.
She hadn’t answered his texts or his phone calls yesterday, and when he had gone by the bakery after work, she either hadn’t been home or had ignored him pounding on her door. So he’d been more than a little surprised to receive a text from her this afternoon asking him to pick her up at six thirty. Either way, he was glad dinner was still on with her folks. All of this had to come to an end now or he was going to lose Leah from his life. And he couldn’t let that happen.
She was clearly still upset with him for agreeing to have dinner with her family in the first place. If only she’d just say so. That way they would clear the air before going inside and having her parents notice the standoffish vibes flickering between them.
“Are you still mad?” Sam asked, trying to get her to speak to him.
“Yep,” she answered flatly.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
He sighed. “Are you only going to keep giving me one-word answers?”
“Possibly.”
“Well, it’s going to seem really strange that you aren’t talking to your fiancé. You know you’re going to have to at least have a conversation with me at some point tonight.”
“Nope.”
&
nbsp; “Oh, come on. I already apologized. I didn’t mean to thrust myself into an awkward situation with your family.”
She pushed her hair off her shoulder, crossed her arms, and glared at him.
“Okay. I didn’t mean to do it again. Happy now?”
“Hardly.”
Sam sighed. At least she was talking to him. Even if she still resembled a statue with her tight-lipped mouth and stiff posture. The only thing relaxed on her were the faded Levi’s she wore. Then he realized something. “Do you know you wear a lot of black?”
“Yep.” A wry grin cradled her cheeks.
He gritted his teeth, then finally asked, “Why?” Ha! Let’s see her give me a one-word answer for that.
“Because they don’t make anything darker.”
Anger swept through him, and his eyes narrowed. “Bullshit. That’s your mother talking, not you.”
Her gaze lifted to his, and her cheeks flashed with heat. “Maybe so, but she’s right, ya know? Black is slimming.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean moms always know best…even when they think they do.”
She snorted. “My mother would disagree with that statement.”
This wasn’t his idea of good conversation, but at least Leah was talking to him again in complete sentences. “That’s because your mother disagrees with everything when it comes to you. Why don’t you stand up to her already?”
“Why? What good would it do? It won’t change anything. She’s been like this for years. Besides, I’d rather my mom comment on my weight than to put her nose into my business matters, which is the fun new thing she’s been doing all week,” she said, a hint of sarcasm tainting her tone. “You know, ever since you went on your tangent about how hard her daughter works.”
He had unknowingly sicced her mother on her by telling Nancy she didn’t know a damn thing about what Leah did at the bakery. He didn’t doubt what he’d said about her was 100 percent true, but he hadn’t meant to cause Leah any grief over it. “Surely your mother knows what a smart, savvy businesswoman you are by now.”
She groaned. “Yeah, right.”
“No, I’m serious, Leah. You run your own company at twenty-seven years old, and from what I hear from my crew, everyone in town loves the new bakery. Hell, almost every one of my guys stops in your store each morning before coming to work.”
Leah’s chest visibly swelled with pride. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Some of them have even been late because the lines have been so long. You’re slammed every morning, and I’m constantly threatening to fire my guys unless they bring me a chocolate-topped doughnut.”
“Oh, stop it.” She rolled her eyes. “Even you wouldn’t do something that sadistic for sweets.”
“Wanna bet? I had three of them just this morning, and it wasn’t because I paid for a single one.” He grinned, quite proud of himself for coming up with the strategy.
She glared at him. “Oh, hell. Now I’m feeding you without even realizing it?”
“Well, I had to do something to satisfy my sweet tooth. I would have raided your walk-in cooler last night, but someone wouldn’t open the door or answer their phone.”
Leah shrugged lightly. “I was busy.”
Busy being pissed maybe. “What about today? I went by the bakery three times.”
“Sorry you missed me. I had some errands to run.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, eyeing her. “Well, I’m pretty sure Valerie thinks I’m a stalker now. And since I fixed a loose cabinet door for her while I was there, you owe me another dessert.”
“What? You can’t make me pay up for things you fix when I’m not even there. You’ll have to collect from Valerie.”
“Nope. You’re the bakery owner so that makes it your responsibility. I expect you to pay your debt…in chocolate. And unlike your father, I do break knee caps. So you might want to think twice about your refusal to cooperate.” He grinned at her, hoping she would loosen up a little.
A vague smile flitted across her lips. “We’ll see.”
Sam slowed, then veered onto her parents’ paved circle drive. He followed it until he rolled to a stop in front of their white stucco home. The freshly manicured lawn and meticulously groomed hedges resembled consecrated burial grounds and would have inspired jealousy in any cemetery’s landscaper.
Shutting off the engine, he glanced over at Leah, who was reaching into the backseat for the bakery box she’d brought with her. “What’s in the box?”
“A pie.”
His brow rose. “Chocolate?”
“No, it’s cherry.” A coy little smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth as she opened the door.
Sam shrugged, his mouth still salivating at the thought of tasting another one of her desserts…even if it wasn’t chocolate. “It’ll do.” They climbed out of the truck’s cab and started up the sidewalk. “So you’re done being mad at me, right?”
“No, I’m not,” she said as they reached the front door. “But right now, I just want to go inside and get this over with. And I’m warning you, if you back out—”
“I won’t. Trust me. By the end of tonight, this will all be over, I promise.” He thought that would make her happy, but something very different flashed in her eyes then dissipated. Something that closely resembled…sadness? “Leah, maybe we should talk before we go in—”
The front door flung open, and Nancy stood there in a fancy red dress. “Right on time,” she said, smiling. “Come on in. Dinner is almost ready.”
Since he’d parked around back when he’d been there installing the new French doors, Sam hadn’t seen much beyond the kitchen. So as they stepped inside, he gazed around the open space of the pristine living room, noting the oriental rugs, polished antique furniture, and expensive-looking paintings decorating the wall. On the mantel above the fireplace, a wooden stand cradled an old revolver and a glass case held an elaborately designed golden egg.
Let the games begin, he thought with a grin.
Sam turned to Nancy as she shut the door behind Leah. “Nice collection,” he told her, making Nancy’s face beam with pride. Then he added, “Looks like a thrift store in here.”
Her hand flew to her chest as she gasped in horror at the insult. But before she could say anything, a deep chuckle resonated from somewhere behind him. He spun on his heel as Bill entered the room, wearing pressed black slacks and a white dress shirt. “I’ve been telling Nancy that for years,” he said, stretching out his hand. “Good to see you again, Sam.”
“Same to you, old man.”
Bill firmed his grip around Sam’s hand and pulled him forward. For a second, Sam considered that he might get punched in the face. But instead, Leah’s father leaned in close. “I just want you to know I had nothing to do with it,” he said, before releasing Sam’s hand.
Sam wasn’t sure what any of that meant, but he didn’t get the chance to ask before Ethan came down the stairs. “Hey, kid. Still rocking that shirt, I see.”
Ethan looked down at his yellow shirt in confusion and then glanced back to Sam. “This isn’t the same one.”
“Oh, really? My bad. Still a good color on you though.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me!” He glared at his mom and then quickly exited the room…probably to go change his clothes.
Leah stood off to the side, biting her bottom lip, as if she was trying to keep from laughing.
“My goodness,” Nancy exclaimed. “What in the world was that all about?”
Bill shook his head. “We should probably get that boy tested for drugs.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s just normal teen angst,” Leah told him, defending her poor brother. “His hormones will level out…eventually. Do you want me to go up and get him to come back down for dinner?”
“Uh, no. That’s okay, honey,” Nancy said. “I’ll take him up a plate later. We don’t want to hold up dinner waiting for him.” She motioned with her hand. “Bill, I’ve already place
d the wine and crystal on the table. Would you pour each of us a glass, please?”
“No problem,” Bill said, then shuffled toward the dining room.
The women headed for the kitchen so Sam followed them. Leah’s mother checked on dinner while Leah set the pie box down on the counter and leaned against it.
Nancy turned her gaze onto Sam. “I hope you brought your appetite with you, Sam. We’re having herb roasted chicken, steamed asparagus, baby carrots, and a mixed green salad.”
After a few moments, Nancy lifted and proudly held out a silver platter of food that looked like it had been plated and arranged by Martha Stewart herself. Then she shifted her eyes onto Leah. “I made this meal special for you, honey, keeping your dietary restrictions in mind, of course.”
Leah sighed. “Mom, I don’t have any dietary restrictions.”
“Ah, well, that seems to be the problem, doesn’t it?” Nancy stated as she carried the platter toward the dining room.
Sam mentally cringed at Nancy’s irritating insult. The only problem he could see was an unsupportive mother badgering her grown daughter about her weight. Diet-friendly menu, my ass. We’ll stop for a cheeseburger on the way home.
But when he glanced over at Leah and saw her looking back at him with heated cheeks, Sam gritted his teeth. He was damn tired of Nancy humiliating her daughter and getting away with it. Enough was enough.
Leah apparently noticed the way his jaw tightened because she wasted no time in grabbing the salad bowl and stack of white plates and making a beeline for the dining room, as if she was trying to head her mother off at the pass.
But it was too late. Nancy was already returning through the doorway.
“I grabbed the salad and the plates already,” Leah informed her.
“Thank you, dear. But I still need to grab the silverware. I know you’re used to grabbing take-out and eating fast food with your fingers, but we don’t do that here. We aren’t cavemen.”
Sam’s lips pressed together as he bit his tongue, but his narrowed eyes zeroed in on Nancy. Like a pissed-off bull, he was definitely seeing red…but it had nothing to do with the color of her dress.