Crazy Ever After (18 page)

“Busy?” he asked.

She couldn’t read his face.

“Yes,” she said. “But...” She bit her lip.

One corner of his mouth kicked up, and he moved into the office, closing the door behind him. “You okay this morning?”

“Yes. Of course.” She held his gaze, but heat swept from her hairline to her toes. “You?”

“Great.” He kept coming toward the desk, and she blinked when he moved around behind it, bent and kissed her mouth.

She leaned into the kiss, loving the warmth of his mouth, the brush of his tongue on her bottom lip as he drew back. She stared up at him. “You shouldn’t do that here,” she said, her voice a little breathless.

“The door is closed.”

She nodded. “But seriously, Travis. I don’t know...” She got lost. Godfrey, she was usually so confident, so assertive, and she wasn’t sure what to say or how to deal with this mind-blowing situation. She licked her lips. “I want you to know that this...” She waved a hand between them. “What happened between us doesn’t change anything here at work.”

He arched an eyebrow, the warmth in his eyes cooling. “Really.”

She gave a sharp nod. “Yes. I still think I’m the best one to take over the company. I’m still going to get caught up and prepared for that meeting next week. This won’t change anything.”

He straightened and folded his arms across his chest, his face once again impassive. “Of course.”

She squinted at him. “You don’t think I...that I slept with you to...” Her words trailed off. “Oh my damn, Travis.”

His mouth tightened, and his eyes grew flinty. “You didn’t?”

He thought she’d slept with him to try to soften him up or something when it came to deciding the new leader of the company! “Of course not!” She jumped to her feet and reached for him. She slid her hands around the back of his neck. “That’s not what last night was about! Not at all.”

He gave a short nod, his mouth softening a little. “Then what was it about?”

She dropped her gaze, a flustered feeling overtaking her. She wasn’t about to tell him she was falling in love with him all over again. Or that maybe she’d been in love with him all along. Not yet anyway. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again. She swallowed, her throat tight and dry. “You know there’s always been something between us.”

“Yeah.” His hands settled on her hips, and she screwed up her courage and looked up to meet his eyes.

“I...I...want to explore that.” There, that sounded good.

His eyes darkened. “Oh, Sam. It’s such a bad idea.”

“Yeah. I know it is.” In all honesty she had to agree with him. “But I really think we can keep things separate. Here, it’s just business.”

“And at home it’s just...”

“Hot sex?” she said hopefully.

His lips twitched. “No doubt about that.” Then he looked up at the ceiling. “I’d like to be the responsible, mature one here and say that should never happen again. The truth is I seriously don’t think I can keep my hands off you. God knows I’ve tried.”

She kissed his chin. “It’s okay, Travis. I’m all grown up now. Remember?”

He groaned. “Oh man, are you ever.”

She grinned, feminine satisfaction swelling inside her. She gave him a fast, hard hug then stepped away. “Did you come here on business? Or just to talk?”

He sighed and rubbed his face. “Mostly just to talk. To see how you’re doing. To see if you have any questions.”

“Not so far,” she said cheerfully, returning to her chair. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Uh-huh. Okay, let me know if you need anything.”

She couldn’t resist, a new flirtatiousness unfurling inside her. “Oh, I will,” she said, catching his gaze and winking. “But it won’t be until later when we’re at home.”

She saw him trying to repress his smile. “I’ll be late getting home,” he said. “I have an appointment with Wade Burnell this afternoon.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “What about?”

“I’m the executor of your father’s will,” he reminded her. “Apparently I have to sign some documents to get started on probating the will.”

“Oh. Of course.” Her mood dipped a little at that.

“I’ll see you when I get home.”

“Okay.”

He left with a smile, and it took a few minutes of floaty distraction before she could refocus on work. But she had to. Business. Focus.

It was less than an hour later that she was puzzling over the company’s traceability system. She knew how important it was for a company who offered fair trade products to be able to verify their fair trade status, but the system they were using was sadly lacking. She had to be missing something.

It was Daniel she needed to talk to but when she went to his office, he was out. She had no idea who else to ask about that, so she traced her way back to Travis’s office. Damn, she hated to have to ask him questions, but he was the one who knew the most about the company.

More than her? Maybe.

She knocked on his open door and poked her head in. “Hi. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.” He leaned back in his chair, his hair tousled, his shirt sleeves rolled up on his strong forearms. She gulped. Business. She took a few more steps into the room, and he waved at a chair.

Perched on the chair, she said, “I was just looking at our traceability system.” She grimaced. “Such as it is.”

“Traceability?” He lifted one eyebrow. “Why?”

“Why what? Why am I looking at it? I’m looking for ways to cut costs.”

His eyebrows drew together. “Traceability?”

“Yes.” Impatience edged her tone.

“I thought you were looking at the financials I gave you.”

“I already did.” She shrugged. “I get it. Now I’m looking for ways to cut costs.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I think we have bigger things to worry about than our traceability system, Sam.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m well aware there are problems,” she said tersely. “Our system seems sadly inadequate. Is that really all we use?”

“Yes.” He shrugged.

“It’s so important these days,” she said. “And not just for process credence attributes. Yes, many buyers now require their suppliers to prove credence, including restaurants and some grocery stores. But there are other reasons for having a solid traceability system.” She asked him a few other technical questions, which he answered but only confirmed to her that what they were using was outdated and inadequate. She took it in then rose from her chair and said, “Okay, thanks.”

Back in her office, she leaned her head back against her chair and stared at the white paneled ceiling. She wished she hadn’t asked him about that because now he thought she was focusing on the wrong things. Was she?

He was the one who knew most about the business. She had to admit it. But she could show him she knew things too. The best way to do that was with a well thought-out business case. Numbers talked, for most people.

She glanced at her watch. She’d get right on that, but first she was going to call Duane Scanlon back and invite him for lunch.

Chapter Fourteen

All through dinner with her mother, Samara kept trying to find the words to broach the subject of her epic screw-up, but the moment never seemed quite right. Her mother chatted on about all kinds of things and asked questions about work, and there never was quite the right lead in. Samara could barely swallow food, her stomach was so tight.

After they’d eaten, Mom said, “I guess I should start going through Parker’s clothes.” Her gaze lowered to the plate she carried to the kitchen. “I don’t know what to do with it all.”

“Um. I guess you could donate it.”

“Yes. That’s better than throwing it all out.”

Oh Godfrey, that wasn’t going to be a fun task. Samara’s stomach tightened even more. “I’ll help you,” she said, then almost covered her mouth with her hand. Where the hell had that come from? The last thing she wanted to do was haul all her father’s belongings out of the house. Because never mind the funeral, when they got rid of all his things, that really meant he was never coming back. Her throat constricted.

“Oh, thank you.” The relief in her mother’s voice made her sigh inwardly. Too late now to back out of her impulsive offer. “I’m not even sure where to start.”

Upstairs, in the big walk-in closet, Samara wasn’t sure where to start either. She stood there taking inventory, nibbling on her bottom lip. Mom reached for some shirts and pulled them down, and then, to Samara’s horror, with a small choked noise she sank to the floor, holding an arm full of shirts. Tears streamed down her face.

Good Godfrey, Samara wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her mother cry. She might not be the most independent woman in the world, but she’d always had a certain inner strength, and Samara stared at her open-mouthed, her own stomach doing flip flops. “Mom,” she whispered, dropping to her knees beside her mother. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” her mother sobbed. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, but it’s not okay.”

Her heart squeezing so hard she could barely breathe, Samara wrapped her arms around her mom and hugged her. Past hurts and stupid mistakes fell away and all she knew at that moment was that this was her mother, and she loved her, and she couldn’t frickin’ stand to see her like this.

“I’m here, Mom,” she whispered, rocking her mom a little, both of them sitting there on the closet floor. “I’m here.” Her own tears dampened her mother’s hair where she pressed her face and they sat there for long moments, just holding each other. “It’ll be okay.”

After a while, Mom drew back. “I am so sorry,” she whispered, wiping her face with her hands. “I didn’t mean to lose it like that.”

“It’s okay, Mom. It’s understandable. You’ve been holding it together for days.”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t we do this some other time?” Samara suggested, rising and holding out a hand to her mom. Mom took it and stood too. “There’s no rush to do this.”

“I guess there isn’t.” Mom let out a soft exhalation. “I’m so tired.”

“Go lie down. Come on.” Samara led her mom to the bed and pulled back the duvet. While her mom slid into bed, she hurried to the en suite bathroom and filled a glass full of cold water. “Here.”

Her mom drank some of the water, set the glass on the bedside table and leaned back into the pillows, eyes closed. Her skin was so pale and thin, Samara could see the blue veins at her temples. She reached out and stroked her mom’s hair back. “Just rest, Mom.”

“Thank you, Sam. I’m glad you’re here.”

Samara sucked briefly on her quivering bottom lip before letting herself out of her mom’s bedroom and returning to her own with a heavy, aching heart.

* * *

Travis got home late, starving and hoping he could find something to eat. He went up to his room to change first, passing by Samara’s closed bedroom door. His gut tightened.

Yeah, he’d slept with her.

Christ. He rubbed his eyes and entered his room. He’d had a helluva time concentrating on work all day, thinking about being with her last night. Also thinking about what a fuckup it was that she’d thought all these years that he and Dayna had had an affair. Good god, that was preposterous.

He knew what she’d overheard that day. He remembered that conversation with painful clarity and how confused and conflicted he’d been about what he’d discovered. And the mess he’d made of it. But there was no way he could tell Samara the truth. Luckily, she seemed to believe him that he and Dayna had never been involved that way. He groaned out loud as he stripped off his dress shirt and dropped it onto the chair in the corner of the room.

She had to talk to her mother. That wasn’t going to be easy for her. Stubborn, proud Samara who never liked to be wrong. Holy crap, had she been wrong. He went from being so pissed off at her for being that stupid he wanted to turn her over his lap and spank her pretty little ass, to aching for the hurt she and her mother had both experienced.

He found a pair of baggy shorts and a T-shirt. His wardrobe was severely limited. He hadn’t actually anticipated staying this long in Portland. He was going to have get back to Los Angeles and take care of things there if he was going to make this move permanent. Dammit, he had a lot on his plate just then.

Including a hot and sexy woman who’d reappeared in his life. Or maybe she’d always been there.

He paused at her door and knocked.

“Come in.”

He opened the door and slid in, closing the door behind him. She sat on her bed with a laptop open on her legs. Her eyes widened and she snapped the computer closed, then smiled. “Hey. You’re home.”

“I am. Did you eat already?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to find something too. Want to come down and sit with me?”

Her face lit up with a subtle glow, and a small smile that pleased him. “Sure.” She set the laptop on the bed then slid her legs over the side and stood. She too wore shorts, short ones that showed her gorgeous legs, and a tiny T-shirt. She’d pulled her hair back loosely and had it fastened in some kind of knot on the back of her head, but auburn pieces fell out all around her face and the soft nape of her neck in a sexy mess.

In the kitchen, when he opened the fridge, he found a plate covered with plastic wrap and a sticky note on it that said, Travis – microwave for three minutes. He grinned. “Ava is a goddess.”

Samara sat on a stool at the counter while he heated his meal, then he joined her there to eat, and they talked, about work and his appointment with Wade. “Even though your dad had a will,” he said, “it’s going to be a long complicated process. Mostly because of the size of the estate.”

“Great.” She sighed. “That’s just depressing.”

“You want those shares, don’t you?” He was sort of teasing but regretted it when he saw the shadow that passed over her face.

“I’d rather have my dad back,” she said quietly, looking down at her fingers linked together on the granite counter.

He reached out and rubbed her back. He had to remember what she’d just been through, was still going through. Both of them actually, grieving for the man who’d been so important to both of them.