Temporary Home (18 page)

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Authors: Aliyah Burke

BOOK: Temporary Home
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“Then why tell me?”

He pushed her back to a seated position. “Because it happened out in the lobby and I know the tellers saw it. I didn’t want you to hear it from them and think I, or we, were keeping something from you.”

Laila leant back and stretched her legs out. “You like her.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” He wasn’t about to lie to her.

“Has anything happened between you two?”

“Anything happened between you and Ritchie?”

She flushed and looked away, which gave him his answer.

“It’s not my business, Laila, so long as he treats you right.”

She got up and walked to stand before him. “Same goes for me, Sam. Just keep in mind that Roxi is my friend, my
best
friend. Don’t hurt her.”

He drew her close and held her. “I love you, Laila.”

“Love you, too, Sam. Please don’t tell Roxi about me and Ritchie. She’s still mad at me and I think this will only make it worse.”

He chuckled and she pulled back to peer up at him.

“What’s so funny?”

“Sweetie, she already knows. She’s the one who told Ritchie to come over here.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yes, really. But you two do need to talk and fix this thing between you. She’s part of you and you her. This isn’t doing either of you any good.”

“So you’re going to let her in?”

He stiffened and frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”

Laila led him to the couch and pushed him down. Once he was seated, she held his hand and sat cross-legged facing him. “Sam, I’ve known you for most of our lives. I know how you operate. You keep people at a distance. Not myself and not Dean. Other than that, you have this barrier erected to keep others out.”

He didn’t like the direction of this conversation. No, sir, he didn’t.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but listen to me. Not everyone will abandon you. I look at you and I burst with pride. All you’ve accomplished, in the Corps and just in being who you are. But I still see the boy in there who was thrown away.”

He clenched his jaw but forced himself to listen. “Is there a point to this?”

She sighed and squeezed his hand. “Yes. Roxi. She’s the point to this. You’re going to have to let her in if you want to keep her, Sam.”

“Things are fine now.”

“Not for Roxi. I know her. She won’t push you into anything but there will come a time when she begins to withdraw from you, Sam. With Roxi it’s kind of an all-or-nothing thing. When she loves, she does so with every fibre of her being. If she doesn’t feel love from you in return she will pull back to protect herself.”

“You think she could love me?”

“Of course.” Laila actually sounded indignant. His expression must have shown his confusion. “You’re my brother, she’d be a fool not to see how awesome you are.” She kissed his cheek. “And my Roxi is no fool.”

He thought about her words and sobered. He’d tried giving his heart before. And that had just got him stomped on some more.

“I don’t know if I can, Laila.”

“She’s not like Tracey.”

He skimmed his teeth with his tongue. “I know that, logically.”

“Look, Tracey was a bitch. Is a bitch. But she’s not every woman out there.” She nudged closer. “If you want, I’ll tell Roxi about her and we can go kick her ass.”

Laila sounded so hopeful he couldn’t help but smile. “No. Roxi doesn’t need to know and you two definitely don’t need to be beating people up.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t be me. It’d be Roxi. She’s good at things like that. We both know I can’t fight my way out of a wet paper bag.”

That was true. Laila was like a kid who closed her eyes and swung wildly.

“You’re okay with me and Roxi?”

She rose up on her knees and captured his face in her hands. “I love you, Sam, and I love Roxi. So of course I’m good with the two of you together.” Her expression demonstrated her worry. “But please don’t forget what I said.”

“I’m not looking for forever, Laila.” The words didn’t so much ring true when he spoke them.

“You may not be, Sam. But you’re not the only one in the relationship.” She jumped off the couch. “Come help me move the bed for Dean.”

He followed more slowly, mulling over what Laila had said. Roxi. Even the thought of her made him think in long-term. And it scared the hell out of him. He’d been doing pretty damn good at being and remaining alone until he’d met the enigmatic Roxi Mammon.

After helping Laila he went to Roxi’s with his things and put them back in the spare room. He wasn’t sure he’d be staying in that room but he didn’t want to force himself into her space. Then he went to Second Chances and worked there, finishing up some more small projects.

“Sam, good to see you again,” Father O’Toole said.

“Hello, Father.”

“Do you have time to see if the Santa Claus suit fits?”

“Sure.” He put down his hammer and climbed off the ladder from where he’d been fixing a loose frame.

After taking the offered clothing, he pulled it on. The woman who’d done the sewing, Reba, walked around him making small noncommittal noises as she checked the fit. “I think it’ll be just fine. I need your boot size so we can get some that fit you. Then all will be set. We’ll stuff you with padding so you fill it out but at least the sleeves and pants legs are the correct size.”

He met Father O’Toole’s amused gaze.

“You sure you’re going to be okay doing this, son? You look a bit piqued.”

“I’ll be fine, sir. Just not used to dressing up like Santa Claus, is all.” He glanced down at his red-clad body. “Anything special I’ll have to do?”

“No. The kids will just want to see you and talk to you. Mrs Claus will be near as well, along with some elves.”

“Gifts? Do I need to bring any gifts?”

“No, we have it all under control. If you want to make a donation we won’t say no to that. But there’s no need to buy gifts for everyone. We have more kids than are here for it. This is the gathering hall for them. It’s a lot of fun and noise.”

Fun and noise. Things he didn’t do most of the time. But he wouldn’t back out. “Very well. When is it?” He stripped off the costume and Reba took it from him.

“Christmas Eve. Is that a problem for you? Or rather, will it be one?”

They walked out to where the kids played and he’d been working.

“Not at all. I think Dean will be up for coming too, so he can see the kids.”

A relieved smile filled Father O’Toole’s face. “How wonderful.” The man stepped forward and touched his arm. “Dean is so lucky to have you in his life.”

“No, Father,” Sam said. “I’m the lucky one. I was blessed the day Dean entered my life.”

Father O’Toole nodded, his eyes full of wisdom.

“Were you like me?” a voice questioned from beside him.

Sam glanced down to find a child about seven standing there. His black face was open and trusting, unlike his own had been at that age.

“Hi, Derek,” the priest said.

“I’m Derek,” the boy added, which caused Father O’Toole to laugh.

“Yes, you are, son. I have some things to do, so I’ll leave you here with Sam.”

Sam didn’t move as he walked away. The light touch on his hand had him looking back down. The boy still stood there, watching him with big brown eyes.

“Yes,” he said. “I lived in places like this.” Not really but he didn’t see the need to tell that to the child.

“Did your parents not want you either?”

Christ. What did one say to a question like that? He crouched down by Derek and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t look at it like that, Derek. Look at it like Father O’Toole wanted you with him. And now you have all these brothers and sisters.”

A childlike sigh. “I guess so. So you have lots of brothers and sisters?”

He thought about how lonely he’d been growing up in the different places. Licking his lips, he nodded. “I do.” The Corps was his family now. And that was one large family.

“Will you be here later?”

“I’ll be around for a while yet, yes. I’m here until Christmas.”

His eyes sparkled. “I love Mr Dean. I miss him when he’s not here.”

He understood the feeling. “He’ll be back soon, Derek. Go play.”

“Okay, bye.” The lad scampered off.

Watching him, Sam sighed again and headed back to the ladder. Once he finished there, he left and went home.
There’s that word again that doesn’t sound so bad when I say it thinking about Roxi.
He parked and went over to Laila’s to check on Dean.

“He’s fine,” Laila said beside him as he peered in on the sleeping man. “Made the trip home with no problem.”

“Call me if you need me, Laila.”

“I will.”

He kissed her cheek and walked the short distance to Roxi’s house and, using the key, he let himself in the front door. The Christmas lights were on and the house smelt like Brunswick stew.

“Hey.”

He glanced up from closing the door in time to see Roxi leaving the hallway towards the kitchen.

“Hey, back.”

She had changed out of her suit and now wore sweat pants and a T-shirt. Her hair was loose around her face, just how he liked it. He much preferred this laid-back Roxi to the other one. Not to say he’d not indulged in a few fantasies about her other style but this just hit him harder. She came across all soft and rumpled.

“How was Second Chances?”

“Good. Father O’Toole and I are going to get a tree for them tomorrow.” He moved towards her. “Same place as we went, I guess there is a tree waiting for him.”

She nodded. “Food is ready whenever you are.” Then she walked away to enter the kitchen without a single look back.

He frowned. Not quite what he’d expected. He’d expected kisses, loss of clothing. But not this cold shoulder. Laila’s words flashed again and he shoved them away with a scowl. He went to his room and put down his keys before making a stop in the bathroom to wash up, then he joined her.

She stood at the counter beside the crockpot. Two bowls and spoons were there as well as a basket with piping-hot cornbread muffins. He hesitated before he figured ‘the hell with it’ and strode to her, grabbed her around the waist and kissed her.

Roxi went stiff for a moment and he kept up the pressure of his kiss, coaxing her to let him in. His cock throbbed when she opened and a little moan escaped. Sweeping his tongue through her mouth was heaven. He was addicted to her taste, her scent. The feel of her body against his. Reluctantly, he set her away from him and stared down at her smoky eyes.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered before setting her away from him.

She seemed like she wanted to say something back but the warmth faded from her eyes and she gave him a wobbly smile. “Grab some food.” She turned from him and dished up some for herself.

He frowned and scooped up some for himself then joined her at the table. Her head was down and she focused on eating. He didn’t like it. Yes, he didn’t talk much but damn it, he liked hearing her talk to him.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

Her head popped up. “Why shouldn’t it be?” She took a deep breath. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“Just an offer at work.”

“Promotion?” He ate some of the rich stew and followed it with a bite of the muffin. So good.

“Yes. They want me to head up security.”

“Wonderful.” He gazed at her face and leant forward. “Is it not something you want?”

“I do, but there are others who’ve been there longer.”

He understood that. “Obviously your boss thinks you are the one for the job. If it’s something you want, take it. I’m sure you going in and handling the issue after Thanksgiving helped solidify his decision.”

She worried her lower lip and he shoved back the desire to kiss that lip and focused on her dilemma.

“Does this have something to do with Laila?”

“A bit. I just…she’s worked there longer than I have.”

“But not in security. She’s a teller. Her progression up has nothing to do with you.” He watched her weigh his words before nodding.

“True.” He expected her to say something else, but she didn’t. Never spoke again through the rest of the meal.

When it was over, she got to her feet and took her dishes to the sink.

“I have some cookies, or I believe there is a bit of pie left over if you’d like that.”

His gaze locked on her figure as she stood by the sink. He could stare at her all day every day and never get tired of looking at her.

“Maybe later,” he replied.

A nod was her only answer. He got up while she dug for a container and began to put in the extra stew. The table had been wiped off by the time she’d finished and had thrown away the bag which had lined the crockpot. Leaning against the counter, he watched her make a pot of coffee. Roxi was still distracted for she walked out only to return with a packet in her hand. He knew it was for her job when she spread it out before her and sank down with her lower lip in her teeth.

Although he didn’t want to, he left her alone and went to the living room to remove his boots. The ring of a phone had him sitting up. Roxi answered it and he heard her soft voice but couldn’t make out the words.

“Sam,” she called out.

He hurried to the kitchen. “Yes?”

“Laila.” She handed him the phone and went back to her papers.

“Hang on a sec, Laila.” Sam reached for Roxi’s face and tipped her head up to him. Before she could say anything one way or the other, he kissed her. A fast, hard kiss. Then he walked out of the room. “Go ahead, Laila.”

 

Roxi exhaled sharply as Sam sauntered his fine ass out of the kitchen. Twice now he’d kissed her since he had got home. She didn’t quite know what to make of it. Shaking her head, she got up then poured herself some coffee before retaking her seat. Pushing Sam from her mind, she read over all the papers Jules King had sent home with her.

When she’d finished, she rubbed her eyes and groaned. It had been a long day and she really just wanted to sleep. Looking up, she found Sam sitting across from her. His long fingers were curled around one of her Marine mugs and the pie was before him, a piece on each of the two plates.

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