Finding Home (Montana Born Homecoming Book 2) (10 page)

Samara returned, stepping over the intoxicated men with an opened box of saltines and three soda cans in her hands. As she walked between house and truck, her flaming face tight and hard, she’d been more alone than anyone he’d ever seen. His friends adjusted their smiles, tucking her into the not-our-kind-but-we’ll-be-nice-for-Logan’s-sake category.

An almost-forgotten guilt twisted hotly in his gut. He should have leapt off the back of the truck and walked beside her, proudly, to the truck full of shallow, immature, self-absorbed people he’d thought were his friends.

He’d loved her then, or thought he did, but he’d been a shallow, immature, self-absorbed boy, himself.

A boy with a boy’s love.

All Sam had wanted was to be included. To fit in.

No wonder her daughter’s uniqueness triggered such fear. By definition, unique meant alone.

“I have to go,” said Samara, stuffing the phone back into her purse. “Jade’s tired. She needs me.”

Logan held out his hand. “Can I read the text?”

It was from Eliza.

Jade said Bob needed to go to bed. Figured it meant she was tired herself. :) Aunt Mabel just tucked her in. All fine. No need to rush back.

“No need to rush back?” He raised his eyebrows at Samara. “I’m not sure what subtext you read into it, but to me, it sounds like there’s no need to rush back.”

“You don’t understand-,” she began.

“Here you go,” said Mardie, writing up their check.

“False alarm,” said Logan. “In fact, can we see a dessert menu?”

“Logan,” said Sam, getting to her feet, “this isn’t your decision. I need to go and thanks to the beer, you need to drive me. No dessert, thank you, Mardie.”

The waitress looked between them.

“Give us a minute, will you?” he said gently. Mardie left, shaking her head.

Their interaction had drawn a few eyes, which wasn’t helping calm her.

Logan touched her arm and she grew still. “Samara.”

Tension like steel wires ran just beneath her skin. He remembered sixteen-year-old Sam’s determination to stay with him at that party, despite the thinly-veiled pity from the other girls, the special voice they spoke to her with, different from how they spoke to each other. How the boys followed her with a bit more familiarity, winking at Logan as if the fact that she was a pretty girl from the wrong side of the tracks, poor as dirt, automatically made her an easy lay.

He tugged her back into her seat, gently.

“If Eliza says Jade is fine, then Jade is fine. Hell, Mabel tucking her in is the headline here.”

That tendon in her neck was jumping again, and she didn’t return his smile. But now she looked torn.

“I think the only one who’s not fine, who hasn’t been fine in a very long time,” he said softly, “is you. But if you need to go, we’ll go.”

He kept his hand on hers, stroking lightly.

“I’m enjoying getting acquainted with you all over again. How about you?”

Her head dropped forward then, just slightly, and Logan knew he’d won.

“A half-hour longer,” she said. “That’s it.”

He grinned and stuck his hand up in the air. “There’s a chocolate volcano cake here that will make you think you’ve died and gone to heaven. And I, for one, don’t share dessert, so you’ll have to order your own.”

“You don’t play fair, do you?” she said.

“I do whatever it takes, honey.”

*

Sam beheld the
empty plate in front of her with disbelief, marvelling that somehow, she’d managed to put away that entire, huge, luscious chocolate volcano cake. And after everything she’d already eaten.

“I think I just gained five pounds,” she said, putting her hand on her stomach. She felt sated, as if a long-term deficiency had been filled.

But it wasn’t just the food; it was Logan. Who else could make her leave her daughter with near-strangers just so she could spend an hour or two with him?

“Five pounds? Then we’ll have to do this at least four more times,” said Logan. He’d had the cheesecake and it was fantastic too. She knew because he’d insisted on giving her a taste.

“Twenty pounds?” She tossed a paper napkin at him.

“At least.” He stood up. “Half-hour’s up. Time to go.”

“Right. Of course.” She shook her head. It was as if she became someone else in his presence. Someone who was more than a mother.

She took out a couple of twenties. “Here, this should cover my portion.”

“When you ask me out,” he said, pushing them back into her bag, “you can pay. When I ask, I pay.”

He lifted her sweater off the back of her chair and held it out for her. “Besides, I never got to treat you the way I wanted to, way back when. Let me do this now.”

He looked regretful, she thought, though for what she couldn’t imagine. He’d been such a wonderful boyfriend. Her first, which may have colored her memory, of course. But still. He’d been sweet, funny, courteous… and the chemistry between them.

Well.

It had been ferocious. The kind of heat you look back on years later with fondness, knowing it was wrapped up in hormones and youth, nothing that could last.

Nothing real.

He unlocked the passenger door of his truck and held out his hand.

She needed his help like ducks need a map to the lake, but she couldn’t resist the chance to touch him again. She’d always loved his big hands, his long fingers, the elegant curve of his thumb. Even though he spent his days working with wood, there was nothing rough or crude about his hands. If anything, he had the touch of an artist.

The solid warmth flowed from his skin to hers and it felt… right. Familiar. Comfortable.

Hands didn’t change, she thought.

Logan walked her to the door. For a moment, they stood on the porch, the last golden streaks from the dying sun slanting through the trees.

“Thank you,” she said. “For making me have dinner with you.”

He laughed. “Next time maybe I’ll really torture you and take you to a movie.”

Next time.

Then he took a step closer to her. She backed up but the rough stone façade stopped her.

“Goodnight, Sam,” he murmured. Then he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. Her hands went to his chest, as if to push him away, but when he deepened the kiss, they crept up, up to his neck until she was clinging to him, dragging him closer, unaware of anything but the need to be touching, every bit of them, with no stopping, no barriers.

Logan chuckled, breaking the kiss. He leaned his forehead against hers. They were both breathing hard.

“Wow,” she said. Her voice shook. And she thought the kiss this morning had been crazy.

“Yeah.” His eyes met hers and a current charged between them, sizzling and dangerous, jolting, binding and unbreakable.

“I guess,” he said, “some things never change.”

‡

O
n Tuesday morning,
as Sam walked up to the house, nerves tightened all her movements. But for once, it wasn’t because she was worried about Jade, or moving, or her house.

This jumpiness was entirely due to that mind-bending kiss they’d shared yesterday. It was amazing how her lips recognized his, how his chest and shoulders and back were still familiar to her fingers, even though he was broader and thicker everywhere now.

What did it mean? Did he still have feelings for her?

Did she still have feelings for him?

In truth, she’d locked her memories of him down so tight, that she didn’t even know.

Though it appeared her body had no such reservations.

Her face burned at the memory of her response. She’d responded like a cat in heat, rubbing against him as she had. Only later had she remembered she hadn’t yet addressed the granny-panties situation, so first thing this morning she and Jade had driven into Livingston and found a department store. She smoothed her hand over her hip. Jade had enthusiastically approved of the “pretty, pretty panties” and she had to admit, it was fun to dress like it mattered again.

She wasn’t doing this for Logan, she told herself.

She was doing this because it was time to stop mourning. That phase of her life was over. Time to start anew.

And if it so happened that Logan ended up seeing them, well, hopefully he’d approve as well.

Samara!
She heard her mother’s voice.
Have you no shame?

It appeared she did not. At least, it wasn’t slowing her feet. She pushed open the door, her heart skipping a beat as Logan’s eyes met hers.

“Good morning,” she said, feeling a grin spread across her cheeks.

The answering smile didn’t last long, though.

“Small glitch,” he said, brushing his gloves on his jeans.

“A glitch?”

It took her a moment to change gears. There was no time for glitches, of any size.

“We had to open up a couple of walls upstairs, around the outlets, to check the electrical. There’s no problem, the wiring is great,” he hastened to assure her. “And the holes are small. We could even fix them after move-in. But if it was me-”

“It is you. You’re the project manager.” Sam swallowed. It wouldn’t do any good to snap at him.

“If Jade was my daughter,” he corrected, “I’d want it done.”

And with those words, her annoyance slipped away. He knew exactly where her priorities lay and he was working to make sure her daughter was cared for, even when she didn’t realize it.

“My guys have already been evaluated on drywall,” he continued. “I need them with the plumber now, to finish the sink and dishwasher install. But there’s no reason you and I can’t fix the holes.”

The two of them, working upstairs again, just like yesterday. With the painting. And the kissing.

The kissing, which had led to dinner and dessert and more kissing.

Which had led to a sleepless night.

“I know nothing about drywall,” she said.

“Prepare yourself, then, sweetheart.” Logan slung an arm over her shoulder. “Do I know how to show a girl a good time, or what?”

*

No point bemoaning
the set-back, thought Logan. But when your high-school sweetheart comes home and kisses him the way Sam did, and you give her bad news in return, a guy can’t help but want to punch something.

Her house was supposed to be ready. He was supposed to have made that happen. She had every right to be upset with him.

And she had been upset, he’d seen it. But then she shuffled it off and threw herself into the tasks he gave her. You had to admire that.

“What do you think?” she asked, snapping him out of his reverie. “How am I doing?”

She was crouched on her knees in front of the outlet, focusing intently on smoothing just the right amount of plaster onto the seam patching the sheetrock. Her bottom lip caught in her teeth, making it impossible for him to look at anything else.

“Logan?” She raised her eyebrows innocently.

He squatted down beside her. “You did a good job.”

Their knees touched but instead of pulling away, Sam held her position, pressing ever so slightly against him.

“Really.” Her voice took on a teasing tone. “Or are you just saying that because I’m a drywall virgin and you want me to have good memories about my first time?”