by Jo Leigh
Oh, shit.
He wasn’t allowed to masturbate to thoughts of Sam. Nohow, noway. He focused on other images. Like Sam in running— No. Even his tried-and-true go-to for nights when all he really wanted was to go to sleep wasn’t cutting it. At last, after he turned the temperature on the jets way down, his libido calmed down, and he finished showering as quickly as he could.
By the time he got his towel, he was cold and angry that he didn’t have better control over his thoughts. This was Sam. Jesus.
The only thing that might explain his traitorous brain was the contrast between the teenage Sam he’d known and the Sam he’d met today.
Regardless, he had to get a grip on his impulses. He shaved at the sink and tried out the Armani aftershave. After putting on his running gear, he had time to search Yelp for takeout by the Fens, in case she didn’t want to come back to the apartment. They could just eat at Bravo if they finished running by seven thirty, but that didn’t sound likely. Or they could grab a pizza or some burgers at one of the nearby take-out joints. Whatever was the quickest. He didn’t want her forced to work half the night in order to squeeze in a meal with him. But it was just so damn good to see her that he’d selfishly snatch whatever time she’d make for him.
A quick look at his watch told him he had a half hour to kill before he left. So he called and ordered a taxi, then watched her awesome smart TV, where some nice person had left a recorded Manchester United game from earlier in the year. Another thing his travels had addicted him to: football. The soccer kind.
When his phone alarm went off, he flicked off the TV with a voice command, checked his wallet and key, got a bottle of water from the store that was Sam’s kitchen, and went outside to wait for his cab. His heart was beating a little too quickly for a man his age. He should probably look into that.
4
ON THE BEAUTIFUL autumn evening, the Fens had a completely different vibe than the last time he’d been there. Plenty of runners were already in motion. Matt had arrived right on time, but Sam wasn’t there yet. At least, not that he could spot. The thought of her made him smile. He remembered the feel of her hand on his chest, his arm around her trim waist. He’d been about to kiss her, but her soft gasp and shocked look had snapped him out of it.
His own shock had come later. He’d almost kissed Sam. Sammy. What the hell? He was her friend. Not even her close friend after all these years.
Didn’t matter. He couldn’t keep thinking of her as anything but a pal. He’d have to be careful, though. Reading the moods and needs of the girl had been relatively simple, but reading the woman? The thing was, he believed a lot of that girl was still in her. Far more than his college-age self was in him.
Marriage had helped change that, along with his career. Being the heir apparent made everyone think he didn’t have to work hard, when it was just the opposite. The last thing he wanted was to get into a leadership role via nepotism. The idea was abhorrent.
The London job would go a long way toward his proving his worth, assuming he made a success of it. He would.
He would.
The UK office had been sliding for over a year, and while Fairchild, the current manager, had been given a second chance, he hadn’t brought it up to expectations.
Matt had been thinking about the changes he would’ve made for a while now. Not because he’d hoped the guy would fail. Matt simply had a clear vision of how he’d use the office to tap into the Scandinavian markets where Wilkinson Holdings had yet to find a stronghold.
He wondered if he’d ever convince Sam to visit London. It was one of his favorite cities and he could show her so many things. And if she’d come for a stay, he’d take her to Scotland and Ireland, too. It would be terrific.
That was if she’d leave her work for even a week. Which he couldn’t see her doing. She seemed conjoined to her computer. Any real time away and she got antsy, just like back in school. Logan had mentioned he’d hardly seen Sam during his stay in Boston. Hell, Matt didn’t even have the job yet, so there was no use thinking that far ahead.
Where was she, anyway? She was the one who’d set the time and place. Then again, the only time Sam cared about being punctual was when it was work related, and sometimes not even then. She’d once missed a deadline on her final paper in computer science, but after she turned it in, it had been so great the professor had given her an A regardless. When it concerned someone like Sam, rules became obstacles, and obstacles could be breached. He’d used that philosophy many times since his studies at MIT and Harvard.
Not that he could be much of a rule breaker. He was a Wilkinson, after all. He had a responsibility to uphold the family name. A shrink would probably tell him that was the reason for the reckless hobby he’d picked up back in school. His parents would’ve both had heart attacks had they known about the illegal street/mixed-martial-arts fights Matt had become involved in. Logan had been the one who’d figured out that Matt hadn’t got buff by being on the rowing team.
Matt shook his head. Logan hadn’t exactly been the voice of reason back then, and even he’d thought Matt had lost his mind. Matt did a bit of jumping and a few stretches while he kept an eye on the crowd, the street, hell, the sky, in case she dropped in by helicopter.
Finally, seven minutes after their meet-up time, Sam arrived, breathless and wearing shorts. Tight Lycra shorts that hugged her hips and butt, made extra visible by the short snug top she wore. He tried to look up from that inch of pale flesh that peeked out between her clothes, but it took a minute. “It’s about time,” he said.
“I’m sorry, but it’s your fault.”
“Mine?”
“Come on—let’s start,” she said, leading him onto the running path. Starting at a jog, warming up. He ran beside her for the most part. Except when someone else wanted to share the path, and he had to do the gentlemanly thing and fall back behind Sam.
It was pure luck he didn’t trip and fall flat on his face when he got a view of her from behind. She was every bit as gorgeous as from the front. God bless the weather. It usually didn’t get cold until Halloween, which was still two weeks away.
Once the path was clear again, he moved up beside her. “So why was it my fault you were late?”
“I had to rearrange my schedule for the next month.”
“What? For a run?”
“Not exactly, but because I’m going to be late with the current project—which is really cool nano work, by the way—it set off a chain reaction. Let me tell you, Clark was not happy.”
“I imagine he wasn’t. But thank you.”
“Why?”
“I’m hoping this new schedule will allow you to spend more time with me.”
“It might. A little. If I don’t get stuck on a problem.”
“Understood.” Evidently, that was the signal she’d been waiting for to kick their speed up a notch. Maybe two. He was up for it, though. Maybe he could work out some of the tension her shorts had caused.
“It must be really different since you were here last.”
“What?” He hadn’t noticed much besides the woman next to him.
“The Fens. I mean, it’s all cleaned up. The track. They have so many activities on the green. I come here almost daily, either early morning or at dusk, like now.”
He spared a glance at the park. It was pretty awesome. The waning twilight was turning the leaves into jewels, the grass a solemn green, and the pond, the part he could see, was crystalline.
“I actually have a recorder to take down any ideas that pop up while I’m running,” Sam said, snagging his attention again. “And they usually do. It’s supersmall and hidable and very good at focusing on the speaker and not the atmospheric noises.”
“You’re carrying a recorder?”
“It’s under my top. I’ll show you.”
“Um...the recorder?”
She blinked at him. “Of course the recorder. What did you think?”
Matt smiled. “Are you recording now?”
They parted for a moment to let a small woman with two Irish wolfhounds pass. It was quite a sight. They were nearly bigger than their owner.
The moment he and Sam were back in sync, he looked at her confused expression. “I don’t know, Sammy. You’re really good at keeping my ego in check. It’s the first time in years we’re together and you can’t just be present here and now?”
Her shock came as something of a surprise.
“No, wait. It’s fine. I get it. I work a lot, too, and downtime is more of an idea than a practice. I sprang myself on you, and I’m sorry I caused you to change your schedule.” He lightly bumped her elbow. “Tell you what. How about we at least grab a drink before I have to leave?”
Her pace slowed, and she was looking down instead of at the path ahead.
“I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty,” he said. “I honestly understand what it’s like to be buried in work.”
He hoped she believed him. Not spending time with her would be a disappointment, more than he’d imagined before he’d seen her again. But now, when he realized the attraction thing wasn’t going away, he needed to be careful. Her legs in those shorts? Her hair in a goddamn ponytail? Jesus. Yes, he’d do them both a favor by backing off.
She still hadn’t said anything, which was worrisome, but he recalled that back in school she’d get quiet like this when she was trying to absorb new information or solve a problem. It gave him time to notice that almost every guy they passed was staring at her.
After an uncomfortable few minutes he saw they were checking her out both coming and going. One asshole was being a particular jerk and Matt gave him a warning look. The guy ignored him.
Matt shook his head with a wry grin. “You’re going to get me in trouble again, aren’t you,” he muttered under his breath.
“What? What are you talking about?”
He hadn’t meant for her to hear. “Uh, the guys who are ogling you as if they’ve never seen a woman before?”
“What guys?”
“All of them?”
A short bark of laughter sent her head back and her ponytail swinging. “You’re imagining things. If anything, they’re probably staring at you. And what did you mean by getting you in trouble again?”
“You know, that time I got the shiner. Back in the day?”
“I remember, but that had nothing to do with me.”
“Are you joking? Of course it did.”
“I wasn’t even there. You were at a soccer game and some fans got rowdy. You also had a split lip and a good-size bruise on your chin. I think Logan got hurt, too. Rick was the only smart one and stayed out of it.”
The hell he had. Matt snorted a laugh. Rick had jumped in neck deep right along with him and Logan. The bastard had just got lucky and come out of the fight without a scratch.
It dawned on Matt that they’d lied to her about that night. A group of jocks had said some pretty nasty things about Sam, so the three of them had taken care of the problem, then made up the soccer story. Those guys had never bothered her again.
She’d got awfully quiet.
Matt looked over at her. She wasn’t at his side.
He looked back. She hadn’t just slowed down; she’d come to a dead stop in the middle of the path.
And she looked pissed. “Tell me what happened.”
“It was nothing.”
“Matt. Tell me. I can see it was no soccer game.”
He walked back to her and pulled her to the side of the path so others could run through. “Look, none of us wanted you to know. That group, Kenny and his crowd, the jocks that used to come by? They said some stuff we didn’t like. I admit I threw the first punch. But that was Logan’s fault.”
Sam’s brows turned downward and she started walking toward the exit. He just had room to be at her side.
“What did Logan do?” she asked.
“He told me to stand back so I wouldn’t get my ‘pretty face’ messed up. Of course I had to take the first shot. I got the shiner when I turned to flip Logan off and Kenny sucker punched me.”
Sam stopped again and stared at him, her expression completely neutral. Until she burst out laughing.
“Why is that funny?”
“I didn’t give a crap what those idiots said. I knew Kenny and his buddy Mark, and between them they couldn’t come up with a grammatically correct sentence. How they got into MIT is anyone’s guess.”
She shook her head. Then her red-tinged eyebrows came together again. “Although I might have been hurt if they’d said really ugly things. I was pretty naive at the time. So thank you for defending my honor. And quite literally taking it on the chin.”
He smiled, warmed by her thanks, her blush. The way the sun’s last rays made her hair shiny like copper and her face golden. He couldn’t help brushing a few strands of hair away from her eyes. “Anytime, Sammy.” He nodded to the exit, just a few feet away. They’d clocked only about four miles, which meant they had some time. “So, what do you say about dinner?”
“Later,” Sam said, not looking pleased. “Maybe.”
“Come on, Sammy. We can get some takeout on the next street. We could eat it in a cab to your place, and then I’ll take the cab back to the apartment.”
“Eat in the back of a cab? No, thank you.”
“Okay, we won’t eat it until we’re at your place.”
She sighed and led him out into the bustle of downtown Boston, where she didn’t stop until she hit the curb and raised her hand for a taxi.
“So,” he said. “You leave me no choice. I’ll have to call Clark to make sure you’re getting the kind of nutrition that’ll put a little meat on those bones.”
She brought her hand down and faced him. “Matthew. When I was a kid, you and the other guys were the best thing I could have asked for. What you three did for my annoying self was beyond wonderful. And you’re right. Back then I needed the nudge now and again. Okay, a lot. But I’m a grown woman now. I don’t need you or Clark or anyone telling me when I should eat. If I’m hungry, I get food. Yes, sometimes I forget or skip a meal—everyone does. But I’m healthy, I assure you. I can take care of myself. No one needs to tell me what to do. Understand?”
She turned and threw her right hand into the air again, and a cab pulled up within seconds.
“Yes. I understand. I’m sorry. I hadn’t meant any disrespect.”
“I know that, you idiot.” She went to the taxi door but didn’t open it. Yet.
“Old habit—you got me there,” he said. “That won’t happen again.”
“Thanks. But I really do have to work. I’ll grab something on the way—”
“Yeah, but—”
“What did I just tell you about me being a grown woman?” She opened the passenger door. “Tomorrow. We’ll have dinner tomorrow.” Then she grabbed his shirt, pulled him down a few inches and kissed him square on the mouth. It wasn’t a long kiss, and there was no tongue involved, but it shocked the shit out of him, and by the look on her face as she pulled back, her, too.
After clearing her throat, she darted into the taxi. But before the door slammed, she said, “Thank you for caring.”
Matt put his hand on the edge of the passenger door. He stared at her for a few seconds. “Now you’ve done it, kiddo. I will find a way to know this new, beautiful grown-up woman. You can count on it.” Then he stepped back to the curb and watched her taxi drive away until it became a blur among other yellow blurs.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, then remembered he needed a ride home, too.
* * *
THE PICTURE ON Sam’s computer s
howed a 3-D bridge being built by a Swedish company she followed on Facebook. Their printer was several levels above her new baby. The bridge had thrilled her when she’d first set eyes on it yesterday, and she’d immediately thought of seven different things she could build. She’d have to get a different kind of 3-D printer, but that was okay. When it came to work, she had no hesitation in buying the latest and best equipment. It was also the time she was most grateful about her success. Well, buying fancy printers could never compete with the day she’d bought a house in Cape Cod for her parents. That had been sweet, especially because she’d been able to keep it a secret until the paperwork went through. Talk about a great surprise.
Kind of like the surprise on Matt’s face after she’d kissed him.
She’d kissed him.
Kissed Matt.
With her own lips. It wasn’t anything epic. Not a Titanic kiss or a Mr. Darcy kiss, but she’d kissed him!
What the hell had she been thinking?
It wasn’t even the kiss that was going to do her in, although she’d often thought that if she ever got the opportunity, she would literally die and go to heaven. But no. She was still here. Clark wasn’t, which was good. All she needed was to have Clark come back for something or other he’d forgotten. Pity he didn’t live farther away. When he caught her working late, he scolded her until she quit. Speaking of being scolded...
She’d said she was a grown-up. A woman to be reckoned with. That last part was implied. But it was all out there now.
A stand. That was what she’d taken. A STAND.
Which meant she had to start acting like a grown-up. Not just with Matt, either. She needed to dive into the role with her whole heart. Until even Clark understood he had no right to scold her for anything.
Oh, God.
It wasn’t just taking the stand or kissing Matt on the mouth that was going to cause havoc. She’d changed the ground rules. She’d never—