Chapter Twenty-One

Kate

New Year’s Eve continued

 

Sam and I returned to the hotel after our tour of all things Country & Western. I hadn’t visited the Hall of Fame in all my years in Nashville, so it was good to check it off the list of life experiences. Really could go anywhere with him and have a good time.

The rest of the day was ours until I picked up Chinese takeout for dinner like I promised.

We took the elevator up to Sam’s room and he went to his laptop on the desk.

“What are you doing?”

“Making notes.” He brought up a screen and typed.

“Seriously?”

“About scheduling, Kate.”

Oh. Lawyerly thoroughness at it again. I wandered into the bathroom while he tapped the keys. Picked up a hand towel that slid off the counter and hung it on the rack.

“You should’ve had maid service come in while we were gone.”

“I don’t let maids in my room. If I need something, I ask,” he replied, eyes still on the screen.

“Why not?” I smoothed the white comforter and sat on the bed.

“Would you trust a stranger with a $2000 computer?” He shut the laptop and spun in the chair.

“I’m sure a high-dollar hotel like this background checks their employees.”

“Probably. I also don’t like to be disturbed.”

I smiled. “You don’t like to see things moved in your absence.”

One side of his jaw ticked. “No.”

“I knew there had to be a control quirk somewhere.”

His eyes narrowed. “I seem to remember you wouldn’t let your dad do your laundry with everyone else’s.”

I laughed. “Because it’s really awkward to have your father handling your bras and underwear when you hit puberty.”

Sam winced. “Noted.”

“Enjoy the innocent years while you can.”

He leaned forward in the chair, forearms on his legs. “Can we promise now to stay on good enough terms that Candace can ask you questions when the time comes? I mean, maybe it won’t—”

“Yes. I mean, if she reaches a certain age and there isn’t a closer woman she can turn to, yeah.”

“Thanks.”

“I get it,” I said softly. “I had to give Pete the safe sex talk.”

His eyes went wide. “That poor kid.”

“Yeah.” I chuckled. “It wasn’t easy for either of us, but I couldn’t leave it to his peers.”

“Of course not. So, he…”

“Is functional? Yeah. He actually didn’t lose full feeling in his lower body. He just doesn’t have enough sensory input to walk, to make the muscles fire like they should.”

He wore his empathy plainly. “Is that…better?”

I see-sawed my hand. “He gets pain sometimes. Cramping. Less than he used to. I used to have to rub his legs. He still grew, you know. He didn’t stay the height he was at the time of the accident. Is he better off than being fully paralyzed? Probably. If he had no feeling, he wouldn’t know there was a wound unless he saw it. He has bladder function. He can have kids if he wants one day.” At least one of us might. “But it was hard, too. Having some feeling initially gave him hope that he might walk again with therapy.”

“Geeze.”

“Yeah. He tried it and there wasn’t enough improvement. He got depressed for a while and saw a therapist when he was fourteen.”

Those months were the hardest for us, more difficult than initially after the accident when we were grieving and coming to terms with this new life. I spent those months afraid to leave him alone for more than a second; afraid I’d find a dead little brother.

Pete never said outright he was suicidal, but the air of defeat hung so heavily around him until things started to turn around, I knew.

Sam drawing me into a hug brought me back to the present. My brother was safe, healthy, and happy. In love with my best friend. There was less to worry about now than any other time since the day Dad died.

Sam smoothed my hair behind my ears, his eyes searching my face. I tilted my chin up and kissed him. He moaned softly. Encouraged, I tilted my head to deepen contact.

We fell to the bed.

He broke the kiss. “Kate, how do you feel about kids?”

“Your kids are adorable.”

“You know what I mean, babe.”

I blinked away the daze of hormones. “We’re a long way from my potential stepmommy-ness, aren’t we?”

“Yes. But that’s not all I’m asking.”

Oh. A biological child. “Sam, I’m thirty-eight.”

“So.”

“So?”

“I asked how you feel, Kate.”

I rolled away and sat up. “I gave up any thoughts of a traditional family the moment I became a guardian for my disabled little brother.”

“I understand that when you were twenty, but Pete’s been out on his own for several years.”

“I was with Davis for a long time.” Who vehemently did not want to reproduce. Ever.

“Did you talk about kids?”

“Of course. He wasn’t interested.”

“Were you?”

I glared at him for pushing this. “Are you looking for more children, Sam?”

He didn’t blink. “I’m open to it.”

“Easy for you to say.” I stood. “Men in their eighties have fathered children.”

He came around the bed. “Forget about what’s practical or possible. What’s in here?” His hand landed on my breastbone.

My stomach trembled, then melted. Traitor. “Why are you pushing me?”

“Because you set yourself aside so long in the service of others and I’m here to say that’s not how it’ll be with me. I want you to dream again, Kate.”

Once again, Sam stripped me raw, exposing more than submission ever did.

I stared at his hand because I couldn’t meet his eyes, eyes that had seen too much since that damn reunion. Felt his body heat as he bent his elbow and moved closer.

I shut my eyes.

His hand slid over my collarbone and under my hair to cradle my nape. I couldn’t easily break away now. “Kate,” he said softly. I tried to keep my breaths from reaching a panic rate. “I don’t know what the future holds for you or me. But you are too extraordinary to limit yourself to anything you think should be or is supposed to be right now. No more settling for ‘okay’.”

Meet his gaze.

“You think you can come here and take charge of my life?”

But there was only softness. “Only if you let me.”

My lips parted in surprise.

When this whole crazy whatever-we-were started, he fought when I fought, met my challenges with confrontation. At some point since he called me to Mama Jane’s bedside, he’d figured out the secret to disarming me and brought me further than alpha bossiness ever could.

It was terrifying.

I didn’t want to lose all my barriers, shatter all my walls. It took too long to become this resilient in the first place. I’d never get them back when I needed them again.

“Why do you have to want everything?” I whispered.

“I know no other way.” He caressed my cheek with his other hand. “I love you.”

“You barely know me.” A feeble defense, but I was grasping for anything.

A tiny shake of his head. “That’s not true. Is it?”

My gaze dropped to his collarbone.

Sam lightly grasped my chin. “No more hiding, Kate.”

Then our lips were a breath apart but he didn’t kiss me. He stayed there until I figured out he wanted me to cross the tiny distance.

To choose to be open.

Vulnerable.

Seen.

If I sent him home without taking a risk, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see him again. I’d given him nothing but memories so far. A man would only wait so long, especially when other women were ready to fill in. Could I live with letting him go?

“Sam?”

“Yes?”

“I need a pen.”

I felt a grin against my lips as he tackled me with a growl.

After a few seconds of clothed groping, we signed two copies of the relationship contract.

Then I inputted my hours on the schedule he gave me, he edited the file, and printed that, too. I put my copies in my purse.

“Hungry for lunch?” Sam asked. It was nearly two o’ clock now.

“Not really.”

“Coffee and muffins downstairs?”

“Okay.”

He kissed me, then grabbed his wallet from his coat. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Left alone in the room, I neatened the bed, then turned on the TV. Flipping channels produced nothing interesting, so I went over to the record player and the short stack of albums.

Let’s see…a Memphis blues compilation, Chris Stapleford, that guy from Hootie and the Blowfish, Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard…ooo, Johnny Cash. That’ll do. It was one of the best-ofs, which didn’t narrow it down from an artist with a fifty-to-sixty-year career.

Mmm, vinyl…so much more real than digital productions. Unless I was listening to a symphony in a state-of-the-art concert hall, I didn’t need audio perfection. Records made you feel like you were in the room with the artist or band.

It was the one love I shared with my mother. She played vinyl while she cleaned when I was a little girl and I learned to sing.

With my eyes closed, listening to Johnny’s soulful rumble, I didn’t catch the door opening and Sam’s return until he tugged on my sock.

I’d removed my shoes to lie on the bed.

“Sorry.” I sat up.

He smiled and went over to turn the volume down a little. “Reminds me of high school.” He handed me a cup. Then set the other on the nightstand while he opened pastry bags. “Croissant, milady?”

“Ooo.” Who can turn that down? I scooted up to the padded headboard and adjusted a pillow at my low back. “Coffee and flaky pastries on white bedding. You travel dangerously, Cord.”

He plopped down next to me. The high-end mattress absorbed the energy so I wasn’t jostled into wearing hot coffee. “What have you got playing? The voice is familiar.”

“Johnny Cash.”

“Ah. He covered that Nine Inch Nails song.”

“That’s what you know?”

“Everybody and their brother was talking about the video. I think it was even on the local news.”

I groaned. “You mother is not impressed with you right now.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I need to broaden my musical tastes. Heard it my whole life. I just never had the draw to it you two did.”

“Sigh.”

“Dad only turned on music when Mom was home or in the car. He preferred sports radio.”

“So it’s genetic.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad.” He gestured with a hunk of croissant. “I appreciate stuff.”

My brow arched. “Like what?”

“Like your voice.”

That warm feeling spread through me again. “We weren’t talking about me.”

“But it’s true. You were just another piano student of Mom’s until I heard you sing.”

A line from Phantom came to mind: He was bound to love you when he heard you sing.

Such a romantic notion to my tween self.

“Do you still sing at all?” he asked.

“Sure I do, like everybody—in the car, along with a jingle, in the shower—”

“I mean in public.”

“Sometimes along with the grocery store radio—”

“Kate.”

I stuffed the last of my croissant in my mouth. “Karaoke.”

“What?”

I washed it down with coffee. “Karaoke. Once, for a bachelorette party.”

He grinned. “I would’ve liked to see that. Were you all drunk? Was it horrible?”

“No. Slightly tipsy. And Sonya picked the song.”

“When was this?”

“Um…four years ago? No, six or seven. Friend of a friend type thing. I didn’t even know the bride.” One of those times when Sonya wouldn’t let me be content on the couch.

“Well, now we’re an item, Jordan will be happy to hear your CD again.”

“Huh?”

Sam leaned on a pile of pillows, his long body stretched out. “I had to switch him to something else after you left the reunion and wouldn’t talk to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He rubbed my leg. “Forgiven.”

“Did you put it away for his sake or yours?”

“Both.” His eyes echoed the truth. It hurt to hear my voice after I rejected him.

I set my empty cup aside and mirrored his position. “I still want to be careful about the kids getting attached to me. In case…”

“I know. I get it. But I don’t want to hide you.”

“I’ll remain Auntie Kate, Grandma and Daddy’s really good friend. That’s the least confusing considering how young they are.”

“True.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Candace barely has a handle on the difference between boys and girls, yet.”

“Does she understand anything about the divorce?”

“Well, she heard us fight a few times, so I referenced that when I explained that we wouldn’t be living in the same house anymore. I said sometimes when grown-ups don’t agree on things they can’t be happy living together, but it had nothing to do with her or anything she did.”

“Did that work?”

“She knew something wasn’t normal around the house. Mandy and I only spoke when we had to after she told me about the affair, so Candace felt the tension even though she didn’t know the cause. And then that tension left the house when Mandy moved out.”

“And home felt like home again.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “They just want to feel safe. She never bonded with Jordan so he doesn’t miss her, I don’t think. Candace already gets that Mommy takes her for fun at the mall and Daddy is there every day.”

“Fun Aunt Mom.”

A snort. An eye-roll of disgust. “Yeah. My kids deserve more.”

“They do.” I linked our fingers. “Don’t put that hope on me, yet, though, okay?”

“I—”

“Sam, I saw how you looked at me when I met them, and all the times since. I know part of you has always hoped I can be what your ex isn’t capable of. But it’s too soon. One thing that’s not in the contract is if I feel in my gut our relationship is hurting your kids, I’ll end it.”

“Kate—”

I tightened my grip. “I just want to be clear. I’m entering this for you and me, not to become their new mom.”

“I understand.”

I sat up. “Do you? You’re grinding your teeth. Listen.” He sighed and met my eyes. “If the natural progression of us leads to living with you and your kids at the right time, that’s fine. Okay? But we’re not remotely there, yet. You’re going to have to be patient.”

“I know.”

I kissed the knuckles of the hand I held. “I know you’re used to getting your way.”

“Ha! Not where you’re involved.”

“Excuse me? You’re going home with boyfriend status!”

He tugged and I fell on top of him. “Because you finally stopped running away from me.”

Then wrapped his arms around my body.

“What was I supposed to do? You came on really strong.”

His hands slid down to fondle my ass. “You kissed me back. You wore a dress you hoped I’d admire. You even told me to make love to you.”

I traced the features of his handsome face. “Guys make me stupid.”

He grinned. “Brat.”

Our mouths met and danced again.