Crossing Lines (18 page)

Callie cleared her throat and backed toward the door. “Okay, well, just give me a call when you’re ready for me. Sam, it was nice to meet you.”

He pushed to his feet and said, “I’ll give you a call Tuesday or Wednesday and let you know where things stand.”

As Callie disappeared into the house, he sat back down in his chair and faced Sam. “Sorry to chick out on you, I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ve been such a pleasant surprise in my life.”

He rested his forearms on the table and opened his hands in an I-don’t-know-what-to-say spread. “I still can’t believe you worked through all of this in your free time. And I can tell by the way you talk that you’re as passionate about this business as I am.” He took a breath and looked at the kids. “It’s nice to have someone who understands and can help me work through this stuff. Marianne is as committed to the business as I am, but she’s the business wiz. She doesn’t understand the physical details of the job.”

He seemed so genuinely touched by her simple act, and amazed she would take the time to do something like this, she had to wonder if random acts of kindness didn’t happen much in his life. It seemed odd, given how kind and giving he was, but his gratitude and wonder was obvious.

She’d enjoyed the work—which hadn’t felt like work at all, more like the joy and satisfaction that came from working a jigsaw puzzle—and was glad she’d taken the time to do it. Happiness at doing something she loved, while helping him work through a troubling situation, filled her soul and made her feel as light as a helium balloon.

“I’m happy to help, anytime. All you have to do is call.”

His eyebrows lifted playfully. “I like the sound of that.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Seriously, will you come to the office Tuesday morning and talk to Marianne?”

Sam didn’t know what else Marianne would need. Kevin had all the information before him to make a decision and move forward. But if it would make him happy, she’d go.

“Sure. Any particular time?”

His grin turned mischievous. “After I feed you breakfast.”

A faucet turned on in her mouth and she had to swallow a couple of times so she didn’t drown in her own drool. Her gaze dropped to his swimming trunks, then took a leisurely stroll up the center of his abs to his chest to his chin and settled on his mouth.

“Yum.”

K
evin gathered Sam’s hand in his as he listened to the kids giggle and play in the backseat. He was reminded of riding with Marianne in their parents’ car, watching Papà hold Mamma’s hand as he smiled across the seat at her… much the way Kevin felt compelled to do with Sam.

Even as a child, when he didn’t have a clue what relationships were all about, he recognized the significance of that smile and the love flowing between them as their eyes met and held each other captive. He’d been blessed to grow up in a close-knit family with terrific parental role models who taught him
famiglia
always comes first—that no matter what, you take care of your own.

Back then, he wanted a relationship like his parents shared. But the beauty and innocence of childhood segued into young adulthood, complete with a wild, often reckless bachelor lifestyle that left no room for marriage and family.

Fortunately, the Wildman matured and started to think he might want something more significant than work, endless parties, and a revolving door of one-night stands. The idea continued to blossom and take shape within him, until the day Kat arrived on the scene. That day, the idea erupted through the surface and became a living, breathing, constant force.

He watched her and Erik wrestle their way through hell, more than once. But rather than being ripped apart, they grew even closer because of their challenges. They served as each other’s rock, crutch, or glass of bubbly. Whatever the situation demanded, the other was there to fulfill the necessary role.

The real megaphone blast that drove the message home loud and clear, in a way he couldn’t miss or forget, was the announcement Kat was expecting. His friends’ shared joy at creating a life erased all lingering doubts from his mind. He no longer wondered. He
knew
he was missing out on something precious.

As he glanced in the rearview mirror at the kids, a tight fist squeezed his heart, then twisted a few times, making sure he got the point. This… riding in his truck right now… was the future he wanted so badly it sometimes hurt. A mini-me and a mini-her, playing in the back like he and Marianne, while he and his wife traveled life’s highways side-by-side.

“Thanks,” he said, glancing at Sam from the corner of his eye as he squeezed her hand.

She lifted her head from the headrest, opened her eyes, and gave him a soft, sweet smile that registered as the final you-better-not-fuck-this-up twist to his thumper. “For what?”

“For a great day. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

Hadn’t he thought the same thing yesterday? Did this mean every day with Sam and Michaela would be better than the last?

“You’re forgetting you’re the one who provided the pool, drinks, chips… pizza for dinner.”

He kissed her palm. “Yeah, but you provided the entertainment.”

Her eyebrow shot up and her chin dropped. “I don’t remember dancing on the tables or singing karaoke.”

“See…” He checked the mirrors and merged into traffic on 501, headed toward Conway. “You and Michaela make me laugh. Being with you makes me happy.” He glanced at the kids in his mirror. “Like I said yesterday, I’m sorry about your ankle, but I’m so glad Spencer and I got to spend the weekend with you guys.”

“Me too.” She glanced over her shoulder and laughed at something Spencer said to Michaela. “She’s had a great time…
We’ve
had a great time.” Her gaze skimmed over his torso before landing on his crotch. She bit down on her lip and lifted her heavy-lidded gaze. “It’s all been good, but some parts have been unforgettable.”

His chest puffed up with pride at having made
his girls’
weekend special. It wasn’t over yet, though. He still had plans for a few of those toys he hadn’t gotten to last night. Bouncing the sexy vibe back, he said, “There’s still more in store for you.”

Her mouth formed an “oh” as interest darkened her eyes and shortened her breath. She glanced at the clock and smiled. “Bedtime for Michaela comes early on school nights.”

He grinned and stroked her palm before linking their fingers together. Leaning toward her, he said, “It comes early for her mamma, too.”

She swallowed hard and nodded, then shifted in her seat, apparently unsure of the best response.

After allowing her to run the possibilities through her mind for a few minutes, he said, “Thanks, again, for helping me with the Vanguard project and for brainstorming with me on the Bellamy job, too. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get around the drainage field for weeks, but kept getting tripped up by the retention pond. I used to be able to run things by Papà, but he’s been in Italy for almost a month, and I don’t have anyone else I can trust.”

On Friday, all lingering doubts about his future with Lizbeth had vanished. However, had he still questioned whether they might, under miraculous circumstances, be able to work things out, they would’ve been eviscerated this weekend.

Not only was Sam willing to listen to him, she listened with interest and replied with enthusiasm. She got it. She got him. She understood the job and shared his passion for building something from nothing. Smart as hell, she possessed a tremendous understanding of the business and offered useful feedback on everything he threw at her. He’d already considered some of her suggestions; others were brilliant ideas he never would’ve come up with on his own.

He didn’t know what the future held for him and Sam, but he needed someone who would care enough to listen when he talked. Their understanding of the intricacies of his job wasn’t as important as their willingness to allow him to share this part of his life.

“Was your husband a builder, too?”

The left-field question caught her flat-footed and she jerked in response. “Uh… no. He’s a lawyer.” Based on her tone and the way her lip curled, she believed lawyers were equal to vermin… or maybe a step below. “He didn’t understand anything about my job, nor did he care.” Her jaw set defiantly and her spine stiffened. “He didn’t like his wife being a construction worker to begin with, so when Daddy died and my brothers wanted to sell, he was only too happy to jump in and help.” She made quotation marks again, as she had earlier when she used the word
help.

Jesus, not one person had supported her. Having grown up in a family-first environment, he couldn’t imagine how wounded she must be from the betrayal. “How long were you married?”

“Five years.” She glanced into the back and lowered her voice. “Well, legally five years. I have no idea how long he was faithfully married… you know, before he moved on but forgot to tell me.”

Kevin stiffened and his heart kerthunked erratically. “You mean he had an affair?”

“According to him, our marriage had been over for a while. I was just too stupid to realize it, and he failed to tell me. At least until I caught him with his secretary bent over his desk.”

Kevin’s breath caught in his throat as Sam’s words floated out and settled over the situation with him and Lizbeth as easily as when she laid the tracing paper over the site plan. If Lizbeth were to find him with Sam right now, he’d be saying the exact same thing.

Their relationship was over and had been for a while. But, like Sam’s ex, he hadn’t had a conversation with Lizbeth about it. While he hadn’t planned on meeting Sam, he did. And he most definitely moved on with someone else, while Lizbeth remained clueless.

Dammit, it wasn’t that black and white, though. There were shades of gray with variances of shadows, as well as pockets of light.

Even though Lizbeth nor Sam realized he was as big a scumbag as Sam’s ex… Okay, wait, he wasn’t quite that bad, because he and Lizbeth weren’t married. They’d never even discussed marriage, and they didn’t have kids…

Shit, am I really debating degrees of scumbagness?

He blew out a breath and squared up in the seat, preparing to defend his position. “Sometimes,” he said, going slow, carefully choosing his words, “it’s not always black and white. Sometimes things happen, even when we don’t set out to hurt those we care about.”

She jerked her hand from his as her eyes flashed with fury. “Are you defending him? Are you telling me what he did was okay?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Fuck, so much for carefully choosing his words. While trying to defend his own—thus far unknown—actions, he made a major tactical error. He reached for her hand again, but she snatched it out of reach. “I’m sorry, Sam. That was stupid and insensitive and didn’t come out the way I intended.” He should probably stop now, before he further sunk his ship, but that mother-fucking filter misfired again. “All I meant was I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Her expression indicated he’d fallen into a bottomless pit of idiocy. “How could it possibly have gone any other way?”

He flipped on his turn signal and pulled into Marianne’s neighborhood, grateful for the forced stop to this conversation. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Believe me; that’s the last thing I want.”

One thing this conversation accomplished was to make Sam’s position crystal clear. No matter what explanation he gave, she would never understand why he got involved with her before ending his relationship with Lizbeth. And he couldn’t blame her. The only thing he could do at this point was hightail his ass to Riverside first thing in the morning and pray Sam never found out.

* * *

After the slightly contentious conversation in the car, when Kevin had the audacity to imply Michael’s actions were somehow justified, the ride from Marianne’s to Sam’s was quiet. She had the distinct impression Kevin didn’t want to say anything else for fear of getting himself into an even deeper hole… a real possibility given her sour mood.

As he held open the front door and helped her into the house, Sam thought about the paddle and strap in the bottom drawer.
Wonder if he would be interested in role-playing. Him as the bad boy, me as the disciplinarian.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and chunked the idea like a hot coal. He’d never go for that and would probably paddle her for having the thought.

He followed her movements as she hop-limped to the fridge for a bottle of water. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the doctor first thing in the morning?”

She was getting around much better, but he was still concerned about her managing by herself on Monday. She agreed to let him drive her to work so she didn’t need to mess with the clutch. Then she would drive her work car, which was automatic, the rest of the day. The difficulty of maneuvering jobsites, however, still bothered him.

“I’ll be fine by morning.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Look how much better I am.” To prove her point she settled additional weight on her leg, only to snatch her foot up and hiss at the searing pain. She cut her eyes to him and grimaced. “If you don’t mind giving me a ride to work, I’ll figure it out from there.”