All-American Girl (11 page)

Lance tried not to laugh. “No. Sam is staying in Dorothy’s house. She’s from out of town.”

“Oh.” Jax pushed his bottom lip out and scrunched the left side of his face. “Is she from somewhere else in Vermont?”

“No, she’s from New York. One state over from us.”

“Oh, so she’s not that far away.”

“Well, she’s from New York, New York which is way down south by the ocean.”

“New York, New York? How can she be from the two different places that have the same name?”

Lance pulled into the driveway and turned off the truck. The mind of a six-year-old never ceased to amaze him. “You know how we live in Burlington, Vermont? Our city and state?” Jax nodded. “Well, New York, New York is her city and state.”

“How can New York be both a city
and
a state?”

Lance couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t quite know how to make Jax understand without pulling out the map in the glove compartment, and since he didn’t want the pizza to get cold, he would save that lesson for another time.

“I’ll explain it later, okay? Let’s get inside.”

“Okay. But can I go over and see Doug after we eat? I want to show him my T-Rex.”

“We’ll see.”

With a pizza box in one hand and Jax’s small fingers wrapped around his other, Lance walked up the sidewalk lined with azalea bushes to Dorothy’s front porch. The wood creaked under his weight and the thud of his boots on the planks echoed in the silent night. The porch light was out and no lights flickered inside, but her car was parked out front. She was home.

“Dad.” Jax tugged on Lance’s hand. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s here.”

His lips twitched as he thought about his confrontation with Sam earlier that day. He knew she didn’t have anywhere to go, and he had purposely driven by the antique shop after they got the pizza to make sure she hadn’t snuck away there.

“Don’t worry, she’s here.” With that, he balled his hand into a tight fist and rapped on the solid wood door.

“Angry people are not always wise.”
~Jane Austen

S
AMANTHA
F
LIPPED
O
FF
T
HE
L
IGHTS
downstairs and tightened the knot on her robe as she headed toward the staircase. She needed a long bath and a massage. The muscles in her neck were cramped from hunching over her laptop for the past four hours. Not that the time was worth it—she’d only written four pages. If that wasn’t the most ridiculous thing ever, she didn’t know what was. She couldn’t figure out the problem with the main character in her story, and couldn’t move the story forward.

Her main character wasn’t the only one giving her problems. The story’s hero had decided to run off, and he hadn’t returned, giving Samantha’s muse fits. What the hell happened to her bright idea and wonderful story? It was crumbling, and she didn’t know how to fix it.

She rounded the corner at the end of the hall and stepped into the bathroom. Coming back to Burlington had only added stress. Maybe that’s what was wrong with her story.

No
. She slipped out of her robe and dropped it to the floor. The manuscript had run into problems long before she’d ever made it to Burlington. Maybe it would help if she talked to someone. She frowned as she ran a bath; Dr. Wade didn’t do phone sessions. If she could hold out another day, Jenny would swoop in. That made her smile. She missed her friend.

Missed?
Now that was a first. Aside from Ava and Gram, Samantha hadn’t ever really missed anyone. An odd ache throbbed in her chest. She hoped she wasn’t turning into an emotional fruit-loop now that she was away from the city. She shook her head, slipping off her cotton pants and tank top.

She wasn’t emotional. The past week had been stressful, and she was relieved she would finally have someone to talk to about it.

A loud bang erupted from downstairs. Samantha twisted around and clutched her hands to her chest. After catching her breath, she glanced at the clock. Six.

Lance.

She didn’t want to face him, so she ignored his knocking. But every few seconds it started again, and each time it got louder. She would never be able to relax in the tub with that continual pounding. Not that she would actually be able to relax after the day she’d had. Guilt still ate at her for slapping him; the crawlies in her stomach still hadn’t subsided. Each time she thought about it—especially the shock in Lance’s eyes—the feeling nauseated her. She didn’t want to see him, but she had to face her problems sometime. Might as well start now.

The thumping continued.

“I’m coming! I’m coming.”

He was persistent; she had to give him that. She yanked on her clothes, slipped her robe on, and stomped out of the bathroom.

She reached the door and swung it open. Lance stood with a sinful smile on his face, holding out a pizza. Geez, she hated that she actually liked to look at him. She would be blind not to notice how attractive he was. Hell, who was she kidding? The man was gorgeous. Drop dead, in-your-face, your-friends-would-be-so-jealous gorgeous. Looks didn’t mean everything, though.

“Lance,” she said coolly. His eyes combed over her face before they slid down to her almost bare chest. The robe hung open, and her tank top was translucent. She might as well have been standing there naked. She ignored the spike of heat when she saw the corner of his mouth stretch into an even bigger smile. She pulled together the front of her robe, tied a nice tight knot, and smoothed the hair out of her face. There they were again, those butterflies in her stomach.

Jax popped out from behind Lance. “Hey, Samantha!”

Samantha’s thoughts were scattered as Jax came full force, arms stretched out toward her. Instinctively she bent down and caught him as he crashed into her. She’d enjoyed the short time she’d spent with the energetic boy at the diner, though it’d made her think about Ava. The memories—and the black hole in her chest—made it difficult to sleep at night. A tear formed in her eye as the light squeeze from Jax’s arms warmed her. Crap, she
was
getting emotional.

She shifted away, unsure of the sensation floating through her. “What are you doing here, Jax?”

A big toothy grin made Samantha’s heart skip. This kid was a charmer, and he looked just like—

“Me and Dad came over to have pizza with you!”

So, it was true. Samantha rose and rubbed her clammy hands over the front of her white cotton robe. She smiled down at Jax before focusing her attention on Lance.

“Is there a Mrs. Lance Cummings?” she asked. If there was, she was going to dump a bucket of ice water on his head and push him right off her porch. He didn’t belong to her or anything, but she sure wished that was something he’d shared sooner.

Lance cocked his head and examined her. “No.”

“Fiancée? Girlfriend?” She didn’t know why she cared, but the questions flew out before she could stop them.

His eyes flickered. It was as though he was scrutinizing her every facial expression. She felt like a damned lab rat.

“No and no. Can we come in?” he asked.

Samantha glanced down at Jax. She couldn’t say no to that cute face. Plus, she hadn’t eaten dinner. Frankly, she was surprised Lance wanted to be within ten feet of her after the way she’d treated him. Well, it wasn’t like he’d always treated her perfectly. He’d taken her virginity and then said she didn’t mean two licks to him. That thought made her feel a smidge better about her own misbehavior.

“Sure.” Samantha stepped back and waved her hand toward the living room. Jax ran straight down the hallway. “Wait…Jax!”

“Relax.” Lance strode in, his scent wafting into her nose. “He’s just going to the bathroom.”

“He’s been here before?”

“Yes, many times. Where do you want the pizza?”

Many times? What on earth for?

“Coffee table is fine. I’m not much for eating in the kitchen.” It reminded her too much of family dinners with Ryan and Ava. Those days were long gone, and she couldn’t really stomach eating alone at the table anymore.

When Lance bent over the table to set down the pizza, Samantha tried to pull her eyes off of his firm backside, attempting to convince herself that she shouldn’t swoon over him after what he did to her.

“Drinks?” he asked as he turned around and caught her gawking at him. The smile that played at the corner of his mouth made Samantha curse the day someone created hormonal urges.

“Kitchen. I’ll get them.” She spun around and scurried away, a flash of heat covering every inch of skin. How was it she could be turned on and upset with Lance at the same time? He’d proven he didn’t care about her feelings, and she could do without her body going into a teenage frenzy just from looking at him.

Get yourself together, Samantha.
She could handle a simple dinner with Lance and Jax. She’d learned a long time ago how to have a respectable dinner with a man who made her feel less than human. She and Ryan had plenty of those when Ava was around. She grabbed two sodas and an apple juice from the fridge and headed back to the living room.

“Here we go.” Samantha set the drinks on the table and took a seat next to Jax on the floor. Jax shoved a piece of pizza into his mouth, and Samantha suppressed a laugh, wiping the mounds of sauce from his cheeks. “Do you always make such a splash at dinner time?”

Jax nodded, his cheeks full like a chipmunk’s, and Samantha’s heart warmed. It’d been a long time since she’d been able to care for a child. She’d always wanted children of her own, but since
it hadn’t
seemed to be in the cards, she’d focused on Ava. Losing her had almost killed Samantha, and watching Jax munch on his pizza was almost too much. It brought back memories she’d tucked away to protect her heart.

She sighed, and out of habit, reached out and stroked the side of Jax’s puffed cheek, just like she used to do to Ava.
Cute as button and dangerous as a firecracker
, she mused. Tucking a stray hair from her ponytail behind her ear, she turned her gaze to Lance. He studied her, eyes squinted and lips in a tight line. She didn’t understand the flicker of emotion that crossed his face before he broke eye contact and focused on his own meal.

After Jax swallowed, and before he could shove more food into his mouth, Samantha asked him, “Other than pizza, what brings you by?”

“Dad said we’re doing some work on Grammy’s house.”

Grammy’s house?
Lance had even more explaining to do. Of course, and she hated to admit this, he owed her an explanation
after
she profusely apologized to him for smacking him. She’d save that conversation for later.

“So, Jax. Tell me, what does your mommy do?” As soon as the question left her lips, Lance coughed, sounding like he was choking.

Jax’s face paled, lip trembling like she’d just kicked his puppy. He slowly swallowed his last bite. “I don’t have a mommy.”

She couldn’t breathe around the foot shoved down her throat.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Samantha tugged Jax in for a hug. “I didn’t know.”

When Jax pulled away, the sadness was erased from his face, though his eyes glistened. “That’s okay. Daddy says that not everyone needs a mommy when they have a daddy like him.”

She almost laughed. Of course Lance would say something like that.

She tapped a finger on the end of his nose and smiled. “You know, you’re right. You have the best daddy in the world.” God, it almost killed her to say those words, but the smile it put on Jax’s face made all the difference.

“Yup! And he bought me a new dinosaur today, too.”

“Did he? Can I see?”

Jax’s eyes lit up. “Sure! I’ll be right back.” He jumped up and flew out the front door. Samantha kept her head down, willing herself not to look at Lance. In seconds, Jax was back, T-Rex in hand. “Here it is!” He shoved it into Samantha’s outstretched hand. “Isn’t it great? I named him Spike ’cause he’s got sharp teeth and claws. See?”

“Yes, he’s quite scary looking.”

Jax giggled. “He’s not scary. Daddy says he was at the top of the food chain ’cause he was so big and smart.” He plopped down onto Samantha’s lap, making her tense up. A child hadn’t sat on her lap in a while. The warm, cozy feeling made her smile. “And he had sharp teeth and claws to eat. Daddy says he was a predator.” Jax sounded out the last words as if he wasn’t sure of the pronunciation.

“Your daddy is also very smart.”

What harm would a little white lie do if it was to please a child? Samantha was sure Lance was a good father, make no mistake, but she didn’t like having to admit it front of him. She spared him a glance, and the snicker he was trying to hide made her fingers itch to drop her half-empty soda in his lap.

“Yup.” Jax stood up and ran over to Lance. “Can I go over to Doug’s now and show him? Can I please?”

“Sure, but just until I help Samantha clean up and then I’ll come over to get you, okay?”

“All right.”

“What do you say to Samantha before you go?”

Jax turned around and gave Samantha another heart-melting smile. “Bye, Samantha. Thanks for letting us come over and eat pizza.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for bringing the pizza.” She gave him a quick hug and pat on the head before he ran out the door. When the door clicked shut behind him, Samantha realized she and Lance were alone.

Lance came up behind her and placed his hand on her back. She went rigid.

“I guess I should say thanks, too,” he said. The deep baritone of his voice trickled along her bare neck. He was close to her. Too close for comfort.

“Don’t bother.” She whirled away from him and headed toward the kitchen. His boots thudded on the floor right behind her.

“Now, that’s not very nice, Sam.”

She threw the pizza box into the trash, placed the dishes in the sink, and turned toward him.

“You want to talk about nice? All right. It wasn’t nice of you to stride in here tonight after I told you not to.” She blew out a ragged breath. “Okay, first…you have no idea how bad I feel about slapping you. I shouldn’t have done that. However, there’s this part of me that thinks you deserve it for what happened between us when we were younger.”

His mouth dropped open. “What?”

“That’s beside the point tonight, though. One, you should’ve told me you had a son. And, two, you should’ve told me he didn’t have a mother. Did you see that look on his face when I asked him?”

He nodded and leaned on the counter. His thick arms and ruffled hair had her mind wandering to places it shouldn’t have gone.

“I didn’t hide anything from you. If you’d ever done this thing called
talk
with me, I would’ve told you. But you’ve been pretty good at avoiding any and all conversation with me.”

“Yes, but—”

“Why do you avoid talking to me?”

She ignored him and wiped down the counter for the third time. He took hold of her wrist and turned her around. It felt like fire ants ate away at her skin where they touched.

“Why is it every time we talk, I feel like I’ve committed some terrible crime?” he asked.

Because I hate what you did to me twelve years ago. I hate the fact that my body responds every time you are around. I hate that you think you can use your off-kilter charm to get to me.
She shook her head. She couldn’t say any of those things out loud. Not that he would care. Then again…maybe he would? Time can change a person; she was living proof of that.

“And while you’re at it,” he continued, “can you please tell me why exactly you smacked me today?”

“I said I was sorry.”

He shrugged. “You’re forgiven. But I still want to know why. Do you think I deserve that?”

No.
Oh hell…yes. But she wasn’t ready to go there. She was just learning to take baby steps, not gigantic leaps. She didn’t know if she could handle talking about why he’d done what he’d done to her. Why he had held her so tightly, loved her so tenderly, so completely, and then said those nasty things.

“Why did you bring Jax over tonight?” she asked.

The grip on her wrist loosened. “Fine, I get it. You don’t want to talk about it. Believe me, one day we will talk about it—whether you want to or not.”