And Samara knew that any hope she’d harbored that Caitlin might give her a chance was nothing more than an illusion.
While Samara was helping Caitlin in her room, Jenny chatted with Steven over a cup of coffee and tried to figure out what was going on. She had the strangest feeling—as if she’d been dropped into the middle of a play without any idea what had transpired up to that point and no clue as to whether her role was that of an observer or a participant.
To say that she’d been surprised to find her best friend at her brother-in-law’s house would be a gross understatement, and though it wasn’t her place to approve or disapprove, she couldn’t deny she was worried.
It was obvious—only to her, she hoped—that Samara and Steven had gotten deeply involved since the night of the dinner party where they’d spoken barely a dozen words to each other. A fact that worried her only because she loved them both so much, and because she knew they were both carrying some pretty heavy baggage as a result of their previous relationships. She didn’t want either of them to end up broken-hearted again, but she feared that was what might happen.
When Samara came into the kitchen with shadows in her eyes and tension in her shoulders, she was convinced of it.
“Caitlin’s room is done,” she said. “So I’m going to head out.”
Steven turned away from the stove, where he was grilling up cheese sandwiches. “I thought you were going to stay for lunch.”
“I, uh, forgot that I have to get back. For a class. A yoga class.”
Steven opened his mouth, then his gaze slid over to Jenny, and he closed it again.
Caitlin, who had followed Samara into the room, smirked just a little.
Tyler, on the other hand, had no qualms about letting his feelings be known. “Aww,” he said to Samara, his disappointment evident in both his tone and his pout. “I wanted to show you the new game I got for my Wii.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, and Jenny knew that she was. “But I can’t stay. Not today.”
“Auntie Jenny?” Steven’s youngest child turned beseeching eyes in her direction. “Will you play with me?”
It had taken Jenny all of thirty seconds to fall in love with Steven’s kids when she’d first met them and it was almost impossible for her to refuse them anything. But in this instance, she had a feeling her best friend needed her far more than her nephew did.
“I’d love to,” she said. “But I promised Uncle Richard I’d meet him at his office so that we could have lunch together.”
“I’ll play with you,” Caitlin offered.
“I don’t want to play with you. You cheat.”
“I don’t cheat, I win,” she retorted haughtily.
“I’ll play with you, Ty,” Steven interjected. “After lunch.”
Then his gaze shifted to Samara. “Are you sure you can’t stay?”
“I’m sure,” she responded quickly, and bent to grab the knapsack that she habitually carried instead of a purse. “But thanks. For the offer.”
Steven just nodded.
“I’m on my way, too,” Jenny said. “I’ll give you a ride.”
Samara looked startled—and maybe a little apprehensive. “You said you had to meet Richard.”
“I have time.”
Jenny kissed each of the kids and her brother-in-law, then hustled Samara out the door and into her car.
“What did I miss?” she asked her friend. “Because obviously I missed something—or a whole lot of somethings.”
“I actually thought you might get out of the driveway before you began your interrogation,” Samara remarked dryly.
Jenny pulled onto the street. “Okay—we’re out of the driveway.”
Samara folded her hands together on top of her knapsack. “You didn’t miss much.”
“That’s not the impression I got.”
“I made a mistake,” her friend admitted softly.
“By sleeping with my brother-in-law?” Jenny guessed.
“Sleeping with employs an ongoing situation.”
“Implies,” Jenny corrected automatically.
Samara shrugged.
“So you’re telling me it only happened once?”
Her friend’s cheeks flushed scarlet. “I’m telling you we spent a couple of nights together without the promise or expectation of anything more.”
Jenny shook her head. “I can’t believe I didn’t have any idea about this before today.”
“It just happened,” Samara pointed out. “And you’ve had more important things on your mind, with the business and the baby.”
“But you’re my best friend.”
“Really, you’re making this into more than it is.”
“Am I?”
Samara nodded decisively, but Jenny wasn’t convinced. And while she was worried that either or both Samara and Steven would get hurt if things didn’t work out, it suddenly occurred to her that maybe things could work out. And she couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than two people she loved falling in love with one another.
“A man doesn’t look at a woman the way Steven was looking at you if he doesn’t have some pretty deep feelings for her,” she pointed out to her friend.
“Neither one of us was looking for a relationship,” Samara told her. “Things just…happened.”
“Which tells me that you have pretty deep feelings for him, too.”
“He has kids,” she pointed out the obvious.
“You love kids,” Jenny reminded her.
“I do. But they don’t—or maybe I should say Caitlin doesn’t—even like me.”
“She just needs a chance to get to know you.”
“She hates me. I don’t think it’s personal,” Samara admitted. “She would hate anyone who isn’t her mother. But that attitude makes it a little difficult to build a relationship with her father.”
“She’ll adjust,” Jenny said confidently.
“Why should she have to adjust?” Samara countered. “The girl has had her whole life turned upside down in the past few years. Maybe it’s not unreasonable for her to want things to stay the way they are right now. And maybe it’s not unreasonable for Steven to indulge that.”
“And maybe you’re using Caitlin’s attitude as an excuse not to go after what you really want because you’re afraid of getting hurt again.”
Samara frowned.
Jenny let her friend mull over that thought the rest of the way home.
Chapter Eleven
As much as Steven enjoyed the time he’d spent alone with Samara over the weekend, he was happy to have his kids home again. He’d have been even happier if he believed Caitlin and Samara had somehow managed to bridge the distance between them, but he knew that was going to take some time yet.
When his daughter had asked Samara to help organize her room, he’d been cautiously optimistic, hopeful it was an indication that she might begin to accept Samara’s presence in their lives. But there had been a strange tension between them when they came back downstairs, and Samara had left almost immediately afterward. Caitlin had typically said nothing about it, and Steven was at a complete loss as to how to make her talk to him or, more importantly, how to make her play nice with the woman who was starting to mean so much to him.
On the other hand, he had absolutely no worries about Tyler’s acceptance of Samara. From the first night they’d bonded over Demon King, Tyler had been smitten—almost as infatuated with Samara as Steven was himself.
He thought infatuation was a good—and safe—description of his feelings for Samara. It was an appropriate and mostly neutral term, hinting at both attraction and affection without any heavy overtones. He wasn’t ready for any heavy overtones, and he was relieved that she didn’t seem in a hurry to put any kind of label on their relationship.
The weekend had been amazing, incredible, mind-boggling and more, but it was definitely too early to be making any long-term plans. Besides, it was the first foray into a new relationship for either of them
in a long time, and they were both understandably cautious.
And while he didn’t want to rush anything, especially where his children were concerned, he was determined to find some creative ways for all of them to spend time together. He wanted Caitlin and Tyler to get used to having Samara around.
He didn’t expect that he would have an opportunity the very next day.
Samara was already in the studio with Joe and Devin and Eric when Steven showed up Monday morning with his kids in tow.
She finished making some adjustments to her camera before she looked up. “Is this some kind of take-your-kids-to-work day?”
“No, it’s an I-forgot-it’s-a-Professional-Development-Day-at-school-and-failed-to-make-alternative-arrangements-for-the-kids-day,” he admitted.
She smiled. “They don’t look like they object to being here.”
“They’re at the age where anything is better than school,” he told her. “And though Caitlin didn’t seem to mind seeing where Dad works, Tyler was thrilled by the prospect.”
“It must be that boy-engine thing that’s programmed into the XY chromosome.”
“Actually, I think it’s a cute-photographer thing.”
“Cute?”
“From his perspective,” Steven explained.
“Well, that’s okay then, because I happen to think he’s pretty cute, too,” she said as Tyler wandered over to them.
“Then maybe you wouldn’t mind too much if he hangs out here with you for a while?” he asked hopefully. “I’ve got a meeting with editorial and I’m not sure that’s an appropriate place for my nine-year-old son.”
“I don’t mind if he stays,” she said. “But there’s no hanging around here. If he’s going to be in the studio, he has to work.”
Tyler’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Really,” she insisted.
Steven was a little more skeptical. “I don’t want him getting in your way.”
“He won’t.”
“I won’t, Dad. I promise.”
“Hey, Ty,” Joe called. “You gotta come take a look at this.”
And that quickly, his son was gone again.
“What about Caitlin?” Samara asked, just a little warily.
He smiled. “Afraid I’m going to dump her on you, too?”
“There’s no problem with her staying, if she wants.”
“Thanks.” He touched his hand to hers, a fleeting contact to let her know how much the offer meant. “But I’ll figure something else out.”
Samara enjoyed having Tyler in the studio. He was energetic and enthusiastic and simply a joy to be around. None of the guys seemed to have a problem with Steven’s son being underfoot, either. In fact, they seemed flattered by his attention and patiently answered the million questions he had about everything.
While they set up for the next series of photos, Samara spent some time showing Tyler how to work the camera. Then, when everything was ready to go, she let him take a few pictures. He had a good eye, she thought, as she watched him work. And a surprisingly intense focus for a kid whose favorite sport seemed to be bouncing off the walls.
He still had the camera in hand when Steven and Caitlin returned to the studio a short while later.
“Dad—” he tore across the room “—you gotta look at this. Samara let me take pictures.”
He scrolled through the images on the memory card, showing his dad which ones Samara had taken and—with a beaming smile on his face—pointing out his own work.
“That’s pretty impressive stuff, Ty,” Steven said, ruffling his son’s hair. “It looks to me like you’ve earned yourself a lunch break.”
“Lunch?” Impossible though it seemed, his smile actually grew wider. “Can Samara come, too?”
Caitlin remained silent, though the look she shot her brother spoke volumes.
“Of course Samara can come, too,” Steven said, staring hard at his daughter. “Just give us a minute.”
So Tyler dragged Caitlin over to the set, talking animatedly as he pointed out boom lights and explained how and why reflectors were used.
“I just wanted to say thanks,” he told her. “Tyler obviously had a really great time with you and it was a relief for me to be able to leave him here and not have to worry.”
“It was my pleasure,” she said. “How was the meeting?”
“Circulation’s up, so everyone’s happy for the moment. Which means that no one will complain if I steal my photographer away for an extra-long lunch hour.”
She glanced at her watch and mentally sorted through her schedule for the rest of the day. “Why don’t you go ahead?” she said. “I’ll meet you after I download the last set of pictures.”
“Frisco’s, on the corner,” he said.
She nodded. “I’ll be five minutes behind you.”
But five minutes later, Samara was dialing Steven’s cell phone number to explain why she couldn’t meet them for lunch, after all. A technical glitch, she told him. The truth was, she was scrambling to take a whole new set of pictures.
She wasn’t sure what had happened—whether Tyler had inadvertently erased the memory card when he was showing the photos to his sister while Samara and Steven were talking, or if Caitlin had done it not so inadvertently. Samara wasn’t going to ask questions or point fingers.
Tyler had tried so hard to be helpful and she knew he’d be devastated if he thought he’d done something wrong. And if Caitlin was responsible—
No, Samara wouldn’t think that. Whatever issues Steven’s daughter had with her, she wouldn’t believe the girl was capable of deliberately sabotaging her work.
But as she struggled with the lighting adjustments on her own, it occurred to her that Caitlin would be quite happy to hear that Samara wouldn’t be eating lunch with them.
Steven decided to cook dinner the next day to make up for Samara missing lunch, but he knew she was a little wary about being at his house when the kids were around. She’d explained to him that it wasn’t fair for her to invade their space, but Steven suspected Caitlin had said or done something the day before to make her feel unwelcome.
Because of that, he knew there was a possibility she might turn down his invitation, so he let Tyler ask her. He knew she wouldn’t say no to his son, and he figured the ends justified the means. Besides, the only way Caitlin would accept that Samara was going to be part of their lives was to see that she was already part of his.
Unfortunately, Samara’s acceptance of Tyler’s invitation was the only thing that went according to plan.
His first mistake had been in trying to work from a recipe that required more than “preheat oven to three hundred fifty degrees.” His second was in thinking that his daughter might actually be able to open her mind with respect to Samara.
“What do you mean she’s coming to dinner?” Caitlin demanded the instant she learned that he’d invited Samara to join them for the meal.
He suspected she would be happy if she never saw Samara again, but Steven wasn’t prepared to give up the woman he’d already started to care deeply about just to appease his daughter. He knew now that was what Caitlin wanted him to do, what she expected him to do. And he realized he was at least partly to blame for that. By giving in to her tantrums and demands in the past, he’d led her to believe that that kind of behavior would always get her what she wanted. He had to correct that misconception and he was going to start now, trusting that this was one situation in which “better late than never” would hold true.
“Which of those words are you having trouble understanding?” Steven asked mildly.
Caitlin glowered at him. “Why is she coming to dinner?”
“Because I thought it would be a nice way to thank her for helping with your room—”
“I said thank you,” she reminded him.
“—and I want you and Tyler to get to know her better.”
“Tyler spent most of yesterday with her.”
“You didn’t,” he said.
“Because I didn’t want to,” she pointed out.
He held back a sigh. “I like her, Cait, and I think you would, too, if you’d give her a chance.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you, like, dating her?”
“We’ve been spending time together,” he said cautiously.
“Are you in love with her?”
“You’re jumping ahead a few steps, Cait.”
“You didn’t say you’re not,” she pointed out.
He blew out a breath. “I’m not sure what my feelings are for Samara. As I said, I enjoy spending time with her, and I’d like to be able to spend time with her and with my kids.”
“Well, I’d like to go to Patti’s house tonight.”
“You already have plans to go to Lauren’s tomorrow night to work on your social studies project,” he reminded her.
“I thought you’d be happy that I’ve finally made some new friends.”
“I am happy, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to relinquish my parental responsibilities.”
She folded her arms across her chest.
“And if you don’t want me to change my mind about letting you go to Lauren’s tomorrow night, you’ll lose that attitude pretty quickly.”
“You already gave me permission to go,” she told him.
“News flash, sweetheart—I’m your father, that means I can rescind my permission, too.”
She opened her mouth, then—obviously unwilling to challenge him on something that mattered so much to her—closed it again without saying a word.
“Wise choice,” he said. “Now why don’t you set the table? I’m sure you can scowl and fold napkins at the same time.”
“It’s Tyler’s job to set the table.”
“He cleared the table for you last night,” Steven pointed out. “And right now he’s downstairs on the phone.”
“Why can’t he set the table when he’s done?”
“Because I’ve asked you to do it now.”
She stomped across the floor, yanked open the drawer so hard that the cutlery inside rattled.
Her attitude didn’t improve significantly over the next hour. She finished setting the table, then asked if she could use the computer. He knew she was IMing her friends, no doubt complaining about what a horrible father he was. It was a normal twelve-year-old-girl thing to do, and yet, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.
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