Sam stared at him, slowly allowing the idea to enter her mind. He could almost see the wheels turning.
“Talk about a booster,” he continued. “If she sells one or two quilts, or those arty pieces she does so well, don’t you think that’ll go a long way to her own acceptance of being in the wheelchair? You can’t think she can’t do it, not with where you work and how you enable disabled people to find all kinds of jobs.”
“Of course she can do it,” Sam said fiercely. “I’m afraid of her being hurt.”
“Being hurt is part of life. It’s what we do when setbacks happen that makes us grow. I don’t think Monica would say one word to hurt your sister. I think she’d be as delighted with the pieces as you and I are.”
“Why would you do this?” Sam asked, still studying him as if he were some new, exotic species.
“You’re helping us out by putting us up while our pipes are repaired. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Oh, yes, it is,” she said, coming over and reaching up to pull his head down for another kiss. Her palms on his cheeks were warm. Her lips moist and hot. He was drowning in sensation from her kiss. What would it be like to make love to Sam? To sweep her into his arms and carry her upstairs and close a bedroom door behind them?
Mac groaned with the image and pulled back. There was only so much a man could stand. There’d be no taking her into some bedroom while Tommy was sleeping nearby, or her sister was in the house. What was he thinking?
“Are you okay?” she asked when he broke their embrace.
Mac paced to the opposite end of the small room and nodded. It was obvious—he hadn’t been thinking—only feeling. And wishing.
“When is Monica coming?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the large old desk.
“She’s going to try tomorrow or the next day. I figured she’ll pop in, check out the merchandise and then take any she can sell—even if she only takes one to make sure Charlene’s feelings aren’t hurt. She was a friend of my wife’s. She’s not going to hurt your sister, I’m sure of it. I’m hoping she can help.”
Sam swung her legs slightly, banging them softly into the side of the desk. “So do we tell Charlene beforehand or not?”
“Your call—you know her better. I’d say I have a friend stopping by to see her quilts. Let it go from there.”
“Okay. She and Alice Horton sure enjoyed talking quilts today. I’ve never seen your housekeeper so animated.”
He tilted his head slightly, a puzzled frown marring his features. “Alice Horton animated? I thought that was mutually exclusive.”
Sam giggled and then frowned at him. “Don’t be mean. She’s not warm and friendly, but I think she’s a really nice woman.”
“She has excellent references.”
“Is that how you judge everyone, by their references?” she asked.
“No.” He stepped closer. “You didn’t have any, as I recall.”
Her eyes danced in amusement as he drew near. Like a moth to flame—he couldn’t resist. She was flirting with him, and he loved it.
“Shall I provide you with some now?” she asked, the look in her eyes making his heart skip a beat.
“Too late, I already spoke with your boss, Timothy Parsons. He raves about you.”
Another step and he could reach out and touch her. But he held back, extending the anticipation. She looked him up and down. She was deliberately provoking him.
“It’s too bad bosses don’t come with references, then I could read up on you,” she said.
When he reached for her she spun away, almost falling off the desk, laughter ringing out. “Maybe I don’t have references on you, but I could see that coming a mile away,” she teased, dancing out of reach.
With a mock growl, he cornered her and put a hand on the wall on either side of her head. “Now what?” he asked.
“Your call,” she said, touching his chest, rubbing her fingers over the sweater he wore. When she looked up at him, he was lost.
The kiss went on forever—or was that merely wishful thinking on his part?
CHAPTER SEVEN
OKAY, she was in dangerous territory, Sam thought a moment later. The kiss had been wild and wanton, stopping just short of indecent when she pushed gently against him.
“I have a sister who could come in at any minute,” she said. Sorry to put the brakes on things, Sam was nothing if not conscientious.
This man was her boss—kind of. At least while she was hired to watch his son.
“I think I’ll go tell Charlene your friend Monica will be coming by.” Sam couldn’t meet Mac’s eyes. She felt flustered and uncertain.
She couldn’t have a crush on her new boss! The job was only temporary—until she had enough money to finish the repairs on the house. And nothing good ever came from wishing for the unattainable.
He let her escape without any protest and Sam ducked into the downstairs bathroom to splash cool water on her face and try to erase that just-kissed look. Her sister would spot it in a heartbeat. It would take a while for her eyes to lose the dazed expression, she thought. She wanted to hug herself with the delight but didn’t want to intrigue Charlene too much.
Sam finally went to find Charlene and let her know about the expected visitor, then fled to bed. Sleep was hard to come, however. Reliving the kiss kept her in a high state of longing for more. Mac was the most dynamic man she knew and falling for him would be pure folly. He was still hung up on his wife. Hadn’t he said Monica was a friend of his wife’s? He obviously still thought of Chris as in the present.
Besides, she thought as she turned on her side, just able to see the rim of the Grand Canyon poster with the streetlights, she had her own future and it did not include becoming involved with a man and his child and staying in Atlanta. She had wide-open spaces to visit, ecosystems to learn about.
But when she fell asleep, it was with the thought of Mac McAlheny and his kisses.
Mac had already left the house the next morning before Sam went downstairs. She wasn’t late, despite the lateness of the hour when she fell asleep. Taking a deep drink of hot coffee, she willed the caffeine to take effect and make her alert. She wondered if he felt awkward this morning and that’s why he’d left early. She wasn’t sure how she would have met him, so was glad for the reprieve.
“Want breakfast?” Charlene asked as she glided into the kitchen.
“No time. We’re having a staff meeting at ten and I have a bunch of charts to finish up,” Sam said. She welcomed the distraction at work. Maybe she could get through the day without thinking of Mac.
No such luck. He called at nine.
“Would you have dinner with me on Friday?” he asked.
“Dinner?” she repeated.
“Did I get you at a bad time?”
“No. Wouldn’t we eat dinner at my house?”
“If the water pipes aren’t repaired by then the City of Atlanta needs a new work crew. We’ll be at our place and I thought a thank-you dinner would be in order.”
“For me and Charlene?” Of course he would include her sister. They were both his hostesses at the house.
“If she’d like to come.”
“She probably won’t,” Sam said. “She doesn’t like going around in public if she can avoid it.”
“Then just you and me.”
“You don’t need to do this,” she said slowly, already anticipating a quiet dinner for two at some elegant restaurant where perhaps there’d be dancing?
“It’s the least I can do to thank you for your hospitality. I was going to ask last night, but got—sidetracked.”
She smiled, thinking about how they’d gotten sidetracked. “Very well, then, I accept.”
“We can work out details tonight when I get home,” he said.
“Okay.” When she replaced the receiver, she wondered why he had to call this morning. He could have waited until this evening to ask her. Unless he didn’t want to wait that long to hear her voice—like she was glad s
he hadn’t had to wait that long to hear his.
The charts awaited, but Sam wished she didn’t have to work this morning. She wished instead that she could have had a leisurely breakfast with Mac, with Tommy being miraculously watched by her sister and Alice and no one to interrupt.
When the fantasy grew out of control, she glanced around to make sure no one was around and then plunged back into the work that needed to be completed prior to the meeting. She could end up wasting the entire day thinking about her temporary houseguest.
There was a strange car in the driveway when Sam returned home that evening. She recognized Alice Horton’s vehicle. Mac wasn’t back yet. Who was visiting? One of Charlene’s quilting guild members?
Entering the home a moment later, Sam heard voices in the dining room. She hung up her coat and then walked to the dining room, amazed at the sight in front of her. It looked as if Charlene had every item she’d ever made spread out on every available surface. Patterns were pinned to each one, except the two that were spread out over the old dining table. Alice and a woman Sam didn’t know were studying the designs as Charlene explained them. Tommy was sitting beneath the table, quietly playing with some small trucks.
“Hello?” Sam said.
Tommy scrambled from under the table and ran to her. She picked him up and hugged him, smiling at the others.
“Oh my gosh, is it that late?” Charlene asked.
“Where did the time go?” Alice said, standing up and looking around as if just remembering where she was.
The sleek, sophisticated woman leaning on the table looked up and smiled at Sam.
“You must be Samantha,” she said. “I’m Monica Shaw, Mac’s friend. I owe him big-time. These are fantastic.”
Sam glanced around. “The quilts.”
“Of course the quilts. And the clothing and the artwork and best of all are the patterns. Your sister is sitting on a gold mine, and I plan to tap it for all it’s worth.”
Charlene’s smile was the biggest Sam had ever seen. “She thinks they’ll sell,” she said shyly.
Alice laughed. “That’s an understatement. Monica thinks they’ll sell for big bucks and wants all Charlene can do—an exclusive. The details still have to be worked out.”
“Fantastic!” Sam was thrilled by the news, and suddenly grateful for Mac’s call to his friend. She knew her sister’s work was good and now the entire city of Atlanta would know it, too.
Monica checked her watch. “I guess I need to get going. My store manager will think I died or something. But I’ll be back in the morning, around nine?”
“Fine,” Charlene said with a bemused air. “I’ll be here.”
“I need to get going, too,” Alice said.
“Stay for dinner. There’s so much to talk about,” Charlene said.
“Oh. Well, I guess I could.” Alice looked uncertain.
“There’s nothing waiting for you at home. You said they cancelled the class due to the weather. Please stay.”
Sam walked Monica to the door, thanking her for coming by.
“I should thank you and Mac. The work is amazing. I’m so excited. To have an exclusive line everyone will lust after is what shopkeepers dream about. Your sister is very talented.”
She gave a wave and headed out, just as Mac turned into the driveway. Sam closed the door against the cold, wishing she could have kept it open to see how they greeted each other. Just as casual friends—or something more? After all, Monica had known Chris.
“Forget it, Sam, he’s out of your league,” she murmured.
Tommy jabbered something. Sam nuzzled him as she walked back to the dining room where Alice and Charlene were. “I want to hear all about it, but Mac just came home. Maybe you should just tell us both at once, so you don’t have to repeat yourself,” she said.
“I wouldn’t mind repeating myself a dozen times, but I’ll wait until dinner,” Charlene said. “I’m thrilled with everything right now.”
“I’ll change quickly and fix something fast,” Sam said.
Sam carried Tommy upstairs. “Come with me while I change and you can help me fix dinner.”
The suggestion met with Tommy’s complete approval.
Sam changed into warm slacks and another sweater and took Tommy’s hand as they began to descend the stairs. He jumped from step to step. He loved the game.
Mac entered and looked up the stairs at them. He’d been talking that long with Monica? Not that Sam was timing him.
“You two look happy,” he said as he watched Tommy jump again, demanding that Mac watch him.
“I am watching,” his dad said as he took off his coat and tossed it over the railing.
When Tommy was a couple of steps from the bottom he launched himself forward, pulling out of Sam’s grip. Mac caught him and spun him around.
“Good grief, I thought he was going to fall,” she said, leaning against the banister and watching them.
“He thinks he can fly. I hope I’m always there to catch him,” Mac said, placing Tommy on the floor and watching as he ran into the dining room.
“I spoke with Monica,” he said as Sam descended the last few steps. “It’s good news, isn’t it?”
“Thank you so much for calling her. It seems unreal she likes Charlene’s quilts so much. My sister said she’d give us the entire story at dinner. Which I’m off to make right now.”
“Need some help?” He looked at her mouth and Sam felt as if he’d caressed her. Instantly she felt the need to feel him against her again.
She looked away before she did something extraordinarily stupid.
“If you’d like.” At least in the kitchen, she’d have something to keep her hands occupied and her mind busy.
He nodded. “I’ll change and be right there,” he said, taking the steps two at a time.
He hadn’t touched her, but Sam felt as if he had. She watched until he was out of sight, then grinned off into space for a couple of moments before shaking her head and heading for the kitchen. She couldn’t wait to hear Charlene’s story.
“That was truly amazing. I’ll never be able to thank you enough,” Sam said to Mac a couple of hours later.
Sam had hunted Mac down and found him in their office after she’d washed the dishes and he’d gone to put Tommy to bed. She shut the door and beamed at him.
“I told you Monica would be a good choice,” he said, rising from the desk chair and coming around to her. He brushed back her hair, placed his palm against her neck and brought her closer for a kiss.
“I could get to like meeting with you after dinner,” he said huskily when she stepped in as naturally as if they’d been following this routine for years.
“Me, too,” she whispered as she kissed him.
A few moments later, he gently released her and went to lean against the desk. “Where do you want to go to dinner on Friday?”
“You choose,” she said, walking to the desk and fiddling with one of the pencils there.
“Dancing?”
“Yes, please,” she said with a quick smile.
“Then we’ll eat at a seafood restaurant I like and move to one of the clubs.”
He reached out, as if unable to keep from touching her, capturing her hand in his, his thumb gently rubbing it. “I’m glad Monica liked Charlene’s patterns. That’s the most likely source of a continuing income.”
“That was the most amazing part. The quilts will bring in a lot, but she thinks she can get the patterns published and have ongoing revenue for years. And Alice is going to be a big help. Who would have thought it?”
“Her references were great,” he said again.
She laughed. “But not in quilting or in knowing someone in the textile industry who might jump-start the process.”
“It’s always who you know,” Mac said. “Looks like your sister is poised for the big time.”
Sam nodded, her smile wide. “I’m so happy for her. One of our New Year’s resolutions was to try to sell some o
f her work. Wow, this is it in spades.”
“What was another resolution?”
“Get the house repaired.”
“Carson stopped by this morning, the contractor I told you about. He’ll have some estimates before the end of the week. He seems to think it would be better if he handled the repairs. I don’t know why he doubts my ability.”
She laughed. “He probably thinks you are too high-tech. Charlene didn’t tell me that he’d been by.”
“He called me after he left. I guess her later news drove it out of her mind. He says it could be done in a week or so, once the appliances had been ordered and arrive. With Charlene’s sales to Monica, you’ll have the money to get started right away.”
That had also been mentioned at dinner. It was the only downside that Sam could see. If they had money for repairs, she had no reason to continue as a nanny for Tommy. The thought came unbidden.
“What?” he asked, picking up on her change of expression.
“Nothing. Let’s wait until everything is signed, sealed and delivered. You know the saying about a bird in the hand.”
“Miracles take a little getting used to, is that it?” he asked, swinging their hands back and forth.
“Yes. Did Tommy go to bed all right?”
“He did. Sam, I also got a call from City Works today. The water pipe repairs will be complete tomorrow. Tommy and I can move back home then. I asked Mrs. Horton if she could watch him on Friday evening and she said yes.”
“For my thank-you-for-your-hospitality dinner,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. Things were spinning out of control. They were leaving. Soon she wouldn’t need to have a second job where she saw Tommy or Mac every day.
Which meant she could get on with her schooling and get her degree sooner than expected.
Somehow, the thought didn’t excite her as it usually did.
And, if the action plan Monica outlined for her sister came into being, Charlene would start earning money on a regular basis for patterns with extras here and there when one of her quilts sold. That, with her transcription job, would assure plenty of money for repairs.
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