ALLIE FELT SAM stiffen at Nicole’s innocent question.
Kathy must have felt something, too. “Sleepovers!” she exclaimed. “I’m afraid they are all the rage among the six-year-old set.”
“What exactly is a sleepover?” Sam asked.
“Oh, they’re soooo good,” Nicole said. “You watch movies, and dance to music, and talk soooo much. We might make popcorn or have another fire. Cody would love it!”
Cody looked up from his pizza.
“Wouldn’t you love it, Cody?” Nicole asked.
Cody nodded, uncertainly at first, and then with enthusiasm.
“It’s really Sam’s decision,” Kathy said firmly. “Nicole, it’s been a long day.”
“You want to go, buddy?” Sam asked.
Cody nodded. Though the truth was he seemed in shock as his things were packed up and he headed out the door.
At the last minute, he sat down furiously, shaking his head. He’d changed his mind. Allie shot Sam a look.
Did he look relieved?
“He wants the doggie,” Nicole decided, and sure enough as soon as Popsy was included in the invitation, Cody got up off the floor, put his hand in Nicole’s and trundled out the door.
“I’ll call you,” Kathy told Sam quietly, laying her hand on his shoulder. “If he changes his mind, or there are any kinds of problems, I’ll call.”
She obviously knew something momentous was happening. Then they were gone, and the house fell into sudden silence.
Allie knew, after a day like today, and a day like yesterday, there was a kind of danger in being alone together.
And yet how could you possibly leave a man with that look on his face to struggle through his challenges alone?
“What is it with Nicole?” he asked. “How does she know what Cody wants?”
“I’m afraid my early childhood education program didn’t cover psychic abilities between children. Should we go sit on the deck for a bit?” she asked.
He looked as if he was going to say no, as if he knew she had detected a weakness in him, and as if his very survival depended on denying that weakness.
But he surrendered.
“Sure,” he said, “let’s go sit on the deck for a bit.”
They sat, and then said, almost together, “It’s so quiet.”
“Quiet,” Allie said, “but not empty somehow. It’s as if the day, the laughter, has soaked into the walls and floorboards.”
She had a sudden sense that when it was all over, when her life had gone back to normal, she was going to feel bereft.
“These were the kind of days you were made for,” he proclaimed softly. “I knew it as soon as I saw you.”
“After you got over thinking I was a wacko who killed old ladies, that is.”
He rewarded her by laughing.
“And what about you?” she asked. “What about you and rainy days, and houses that are full of noise, and smell of wet dogs?”
“I don’t know about made for it,” he said. “Thrust into it.”
“Nonsense. A man pushed into something against his own will would never build a fort that enthusiastically. Or draw such a stupendous purple unicorn.”
“Is he going to be okay over there?” he asked softly.
She knew she could pull out her early childhood information and tell him how important it was for Cody to differentiate, to begin to see himself as separate from others, and that was probably particularly true in light of his loss, but that wasn’t the real question. Not at all.
The real question was, was Sam going to be okay?
Somehow, even with the danger sizzling in the air between them, she needed to know the answer to that.
Or maybe, she had to be part of the answer to that.
The thought that was forming in her mind was terrifying. She sought refuge in her guitar. The notes flew out of it, snapping, floating, dancing like those sparks from the fire finding the night air.
“I should be working on Phil’s Steakhouse,” she said.
“That tune could sell a lot of steak,” he said.
“Unfortunately, this tune is not Phil’s Steakhouse. My guitar appears to be on strike when it comes to Phil.”
“What is it then?”
She sang a rollicking little tune about mud puddles and blanket forts and the sound of rainy days on the roof.
“You’ve found yourself, haven’t you?” he asked quietly.
Had she? If she’d really found herself, didn’t that have to extend to others? To him? Didn’t she have to help him find himself, too? She could tell that the idea of Cody being away from him had left him feeling uneasy. He had given her this amazing gift of inviting her to experience family. What could she give him?
She set down the guitar. “We have the whole evening to ourselves. Let’s be grown-ups,” she suggested.
His eyes widened and he lifted an eyebrow wickedly at her.
She was not sure when she had become quite so comfortable with him, with his teasing, but she gave his arm a light punch.
“I mean, we’re free. We don’t even have the dog.”
“Aren’t you always free?” he asked her.
“I guess,” she admitted, “though after that period where everyone recognized me, I got into a bit of a hermit habit. And I don’t think I ever got back out.” She could see the suggestion they do some grown-up things appealed to him much more once he determined it was also about her.
“Let’s go to a movie,” she said. “And maybe go for dinner after. We could be really wild. We could finish off the night with a drink.”
Allie was aware she was holding her breath. It felt as if something important was being decided here. Earth-shattering. Because, really, no matter what she cloaked it in, her helping him, or him helping her, wasn’t she asking him to go on a date?
“What movie?” he said, after a moment.
She felt the relief of his answer. “Anything but Rugrats.”
“You don’t even have a television. How can you be sick of Rugrats?”
“I can hear it when you play it on the computer. You know the walls in that cottage.” In fact, she could hear everything, even the sound of him breathing.
He threw back his head and laughed, that beautiful, beautiful sound. “Agreed,” he said.
Several minutes later, as she tried to decide what to wear, her nerve faltered. But then she threw on a sleeveless white top that showed off her tan and the arms toned from daily swimming, and a short, colorful, summery skirt that swished around her legs. She put on a light dusting of makeup, even though it was strictly against the cottage rules. She hadn’t put on makeup since American Singing Star. She put a straw fedora on. It covered the worst of her hair.
She looked in the mirror for a moment. She looked cute. There were little pink spots on her cheeks. Her eyes were shining.
What was she getting herself into? Too late. She was already in.
She deliberately brushed the thoughts away. It had been such a perfect few days. She was making new friends and moving out into the world again. She didn’t need to analyze that endlessly. Wasn’t there a whole philosophy about being in the moment? Couldn’t she just do that?
There was no need to project into the future. Sam and Cody were here for a limited time, and it was counting down fast. There was no future.
Couldn’t she just have fun? Couldn’t she just be carefree, like those people who poured onto the beach in front of her house every day?
When she saw Sam’s eyes widen with a certain male appreciation, Allie was glad for both the choice of makeup and the fun, flirty skirt. She might have even given it a little extra swish as they walked downtown to the theater together.
Still, it wasn’t a date! It felt as if they scrupulously avoided it becoming a date, by avoiding holding hands.
Sugar Cone only had one theater, and it was playing an action thriller. There was a brief verbal scuffle at the wicket, when she talked about paying and Sam gave her an incredulous look. Then there was something lovely—and normal—about sitting in a darkened theater together. They didn’t hold hands, but they shared a bucket of popcorn. Who knew fingers brushing over buttered popcorn could be so sexy?
“I’m starving,” Sam said as they came out of the theater. They stood on the sidewalk together.
Allie was aware of an admiring glance he got from a woman passing by walking her dog. The woman smiled at him. Why did it melt something in Allie that Sam didn’t even seem to notice?
“How can you be starving?” she teased him. “You ate a whole bucket of popcorn.”
“I didn’t eat a whole bucket. I wanted to, but you suggested sharing.”
It was a tiny thing, really, going back and forth like this. And yet it felt unreasonably good to be with him. Maybe she had taken the whole hermit-hiding-out thing just a little too far.
“Phil’s Steakhouse?” he deadpanned.
And then they were laughing together.
“I think a hamburger at Marty’s Milkshakes is more in my price range.”
“Your price range? You aren’t paying.”
“Well, I suggested this outing. So—”
“Is this why you suggested sharing popcorn? Because you were being frugal?”
“Why else?” she asked.
“I thought you were being romantic.”
He was obviously teasing. She blushed.
“I’m your landlady. I think it’s against the rules to be romantic with you.”
He rocked back on his heels, and looked very much like a rebel who wanted to challenge the rules, but instead, he sighed. “Okay, now that you’ve established the rules, could we eat?”
“Someplace cheap,” she said. “Dutch treat.”
“Oh, be quiet,” he said, and put his arm around her shoulder. “That place across the street looks good.”
“That’s the swankiest restaurant in town,” she sputtered. She touched the brim of her fedora self-consciously. “I’m not dressed to go in there.”
“It’s a beach town,” he said, unperturbed. “The dress code everywhere is casual. You impose a lot of rules on yourself, don’t you?”
It occurred to her she did, her legacy from her mother. She decided, just for a little while, to leave the rules behind. Her Gram would approve of that!
“Just own it,” Sam whispered in her ear, and gave the brim of her hat a little tug that made it feel like just possibly it could be seen as jaunty and stylish instead of a quick cover for a bad hair day.
The maître d’ did not act as if there was anything wrong, at all, with what they were wearing. In fact, he gave them the best table in the house: a beautiful corner table on the patio, overlooking the sea.
“See?” Sam said. “I told you to own it. Look where it got us.”
“That wasn’t me. You’re sending out the tycoon vibe,” she whispered to him. “That’s why we got the good table.”
“Ha. Let me tell you how men think.” He pretended his fingers were a meter. “Tycoon vibe, gorgeous legs, tycoon vibe, gorgeous legs.” His finger meter went off the scale every time he said “gorgeous legs.”
He thought she had gorgeous legs! That meant he’d looked. She could feel her confidence growing by the second.
That’s what being with a man like him did. His confidence just rubbed off.
“Let’s start with some calamari.”
She looked at the price of it, and hid a gulp.
When the waiter came he ordered a grotesquely expensive imported beer, and steak and lobster, the most expensive thing on the menu.
Was he showing off?
She cast him a look, and saw that he had not given his order a second thought. He’d simply ordered what he wanted.
“What are you having?” he asked her.
Old habits died hard. She could feel herself looking through the appetizers trying to find something inexpensive. He was paying, he’d already made that clear, but she couldn’t make it feel as if she was taking advantage of him.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” he said as the waiter hovered. He took her menu from her and gave it back to the waiter. “Bring her the same.”
“That’s very controlling of you,” she said, glaring at him.
“Think of it as masterful,” he said with a wink.
“I can’t eat that much,” she protested. “And I think I’ve had enough butter for one evening.”
He grinned at her. “There’s no such thing as enough butter. And I’m hoping you can’t finish, because then I’ll get more.”
His grin was so open and so mischievous—unconsciously charming—and she remembered her original goal. It was to keep his mind off Cody.
And it seemed to be working! What an unexpected bonus to see him looking happy and at ease.
And just like that, the moment of self-consciousness, of feeling somehow like she wasn’t good enough for a place like this—or a guy like him—evaporated.
And they were just two people, doing what two people did. Getting to know each other.
What two people on their first date do, her mind insisted on telling her.
She took a sip of the beer that had arrived. “I had no idea beer could taste this good.”
“Stick with the tycoons,” he told her and lifted his glass to her. He came away with a deliberate foam moustache over his upper lip. It made her laugh.
She was not sure if anything had ever felt quite so wonderful as laughing with Sam Walker.