Falling for Mr. December (12 page)

And she pushed away the fact that she still hadn't told him the truth.

They went to a fried chicken place for lunch on the way home. Nick turned to Sammy when the boys were out of earshot. ‘Thank you—you found a nice way to make Xander rest and not feel that he was missing out. And I apologise. I thought at first you were pushing him too hard.'

She nodded grimly. ‘A word to the wise—don't wrap him in cotton wool, because he'll resent it later. You need to find a way of keeping him right in the middle of things and yet resting at the same time.'

‘That sounds like experience talking.'

‘Uh-huh.' She certainly couldn't tell him what Xander had confided in her, as she'd promised to keep it to herself.

‘Would this be your sister who was wrapped in cotton wool?' Nick asked softly.

No, it had been her, for the first week. But, after that huge fight, Sammy's family had learned to support her instead of smothering her. Most of the time. She knew they still panicked, which was why she didn't always tell them if she felt any kind of twinge in her leg. ‘I'd rather not talk about it,' she said.

‘Your sister's not...?' He stopped and winced. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rip the top off your scars.'

‘My sister's fine. Now let's change the subject. I'm sorry for soaking you.'

‘I got my own back.'

‘Yeah, and your car's a bit soggy.'

‘It'll dry,' he said. ‘Thank you. You're good with the boys.'

‘I'm an aunt of four,' she reminded him, ‘so I jolly well ought to be good with kids by now.' She pushed back the surge of longing. She had to be realistic and recognise that she might have to content herself with being an aunt or a godmother. But she'd deal with it when she had to.

‘My ex wasn't good with kids,' he said. ‘She never really enjoyed spending time with the boys.'

Because she wanted kids of her own and his attention had been focused on them? Sammy wondered. ‘That's a shame,' she said.

He gave her a thin smile. ‘Yeah. There wasn't a maternal bone in Naomi's body.'

Ah. So she'd got it wrong and Nick's ex hadn't wanted kids. And it sounded as if it had been an issue between them. Maybe one of the issues that had led to their divorce.

Did Nick want children? Sammy wasn't brave enough to ask—because she knew this might be the deal-breaker for their relationship. If he wanted kids and she couldn't give them to him, what then?

Sammy was still damp by the time they got back to his sister's house.

‘I can't make you sit around in wet clothes,' Nick said. ‘Look, you're about the same size as Mandy. I can go and get something for you to change into. She won't mind.'

Sammy went cold—supposing he brought down a skirt? Something that would show him her scar? That wasn't the way she wanted to tell him. And she wished she'd been brave enough to tell him before. ‘No, it's fine,' she said with a smile. ‘I'll soon dry out in the back garden.' She indicated the patio table and chairs. ‘Do you have a pack of cards?'

‘We do,' Xander said, and went to fetch them while Nick organised drinks.

Sammy shuffled the cards. ‘This was my favourite card game when I was your age. It's called Cheat—you go round in turn and put down the next named card. So if I start with an ace, Xander would put down a two, Nick would put down a three, and Ned would put down a four.'

Ned frowned. ‘But that doesn't sound like fun.'

‘Oh, yes, it is,' she said. ‘Because you put the cards face down on the table, and nobody knows if I've put down say four aces, or four completely different cards.'

‘So if you put down three fives and I don't have any sixes, I put down a card and pretend it's a six?' Xander asked.

‘Exactly. And if I've got four sixes, I know you haven't put down a six, so I'd say Cheat and you'd have to pick up all the cards on the table. But if I've got three sixes and someone else has got one six, we won't know if you're cheating or not...unless you giggle and give yourself away.' She smiled. ‘Uncle Nick should be good at this. He'll be able to see if people aren't telling the truth.'

He did. And Sammy let him win the first round.

And then she played the way she had with her family, half a lifetime ago. As a total card sharp. With a grin, she put down her last cards, saying, ‘Three fours.'

Nick frowned. ‘Hang on, you laid down three fours last time it was fours—and there aren't seven fours in a pack of cards.' He pointed a finger at her. ‘Cheat!'

She turned over the last three cards, one by one. The four of diamonds, the four of clubs and the four of hearts.

‘But—how?' Nick asked plaintively.

She laughed. ‘Because I cheated massively last time and you didn't spot it.'

‘You're really good at this,' Xander said admiringly.

She winked at him. ‘My dad taught me how to play when I was Ned's age—and I have two big brothers and a big sister, so I had to learn to be really good at this or they'd sit on me.'

‘Really sit on you?' Ned's eyes went wide.

She laughed. ‘No, not
really
, but when you're the littlest it's hard to come last all the time, and I always knew if they were being kind and let me win.'

‘I don't like it when Xander lets me win,' Ned confided in a whisper.

She ruffled his hair. ‘Then, young Spiderman, let me give you some tips...'

* * *

Mandy came back just before tea time.

‘Thank you so much,' she said to Sammy, shaking her hand. ‘I feel so guilty about dumping my parental responsibilities on Nick and on you, especially as I hadn't even met you!'

‘Not at all,' Sammy said firmly. ‘Apart from the fact that it's your birthday weekend, I had a really good afternoon and your boys are lovely. And it's tough being a single mum. Having a break means you're refreshed and can enjoy the kids more.'

Mandy blinked. ‘Wow, that's... I'm not used to people being that understanding.'

Sammy smiled. ‘Remember, I'm a photographer. I've met an awful lot of people and heard an awful lot of life stories over the years.' She blew on her nails and polished them against her T-shirt. ‘Very wise that makes me, young Padawan.'

Mandy laughed. ‘If you're Yoda, then how old does that make me?'

Sammy laughed back. ‘About the same age as my oldest brother, I'd guess. Which is—ooh—
ancient
.'

Mandy grinned. ‘I like you. Would you stay and have dinner with us?' She wrinkled her nose. ‘Though I guess you'd want to spend some time alone with Nick.'

‘If you're offering me just about anything followed by birthday cake that isn't chocolate,' Sammy said, ‘I'm all yours.
And
I'll do the washing up.'

‘Deal, even though I'd always pick chocolate cake first,' Mandy said with another grin. ‘I take back what I said. I
really
like you.'

Sammy smiled. ‘If you're like your brother and your sons, then I like you, too.'

‘I like your hair—it's a pretty radical cut, but you've got the bone structure to get away with it.'

‘Thank you,' Sammy said, ‘but I don't have it cut this short for fashion.'

‘What, then?'

‘Didn't Nick tell you? I grow my hair and donate it every two years, when it's long enough to make a child's wig,' Sammy explained.

‘A kid who's had chemo?' Mandy swallowed hard. ‘Xander lost his hair when he had chemo.'

‘That's the downside of chemo—but he's doing just fine,' Sammy said softly. ‘Thanks to you, he's really well adjusted.'

‘I hope so.'

Sammy saw the sheen of tears in Mandy's eyes and hugged her. ‘Sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry.'

‘It's not you—it just catches me unawares sometimes. I never met anyone who donated hair before. Maybe that's something I can do in the future,' Mandy said thoughtfully.

‘My sister's a teacher. She makes everyone in the staff room sponsor her before we have our hair cut,' Sammy said.

Mandy nodded. ‘I could do that, too.'

‘And if you don't want to do it on your own, join us—except it's going to be another two years before our hair's long enough to do it again.'

‘I'll do it next week,' Mandy said. ‘And then I'll join you in two years.'

‘It's a deal,' Sammy said.

She enjoyed sharing pizza, garlic bread and birthday cake with Nick's family. Later that evening, Nick took her home. ‘Thank you,' he said as they sat in the car outside her flat. ‘You've been brilliant.'

‘I had a great day,' she said. ‘I loved the zip-wire. And the water fight.'

His eyes went hot. ‘Yeah. Me, too.'

She kissed him. ‘You have no idea how many of the mums were ogling you.'

‘You have no idea how many of the dads were ogling
you
,' he countered. ‘You're a natural with kids.' He paused. ‘I probably shouldn't ask you this, but would you think about having your own, some day?'

‘Maybe,' she said carefully. And this really was the crunch question, as far as she was concerned. Now he'd brought it up, she'd have to be brave and ask him. ‘What about you?'

‘Some day.' He looked sad. ‘I wanted them about five years ago, but my ex wasn't keen.'

‘Is that why you broke up with her?' She realised how bad that sounded and clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘Sorry. I was being intrusive. You don't have to answer that.'

‘No, that's fine. And no, it isn't why we broke up. You could say that my job got in the way.'

From the look on his face, Sammy was pretty sure there was more to it than that, but now wasn't the time to pry. ‘I'm sorry,' she said again.

‘It wasn't your fault, so there's no need to apologise.' He leaned forward and stole a kiss. ‘But every cloud has a silver lining. It means that you and I got to meet.'

‘There is that to it.' But he definitely wanted kids, and she might not be able to do that. She needed time to think. Time to work out how to tell him the truth about herself. She kissed him lingeringly. ‘I would invite you in, but—'

‘—you've got an early start tomorrow?' he guessed. ‘Even on a Sunday?'

‘That's the thing about being a freelance—you never really know what hours you're going to work from week to week,' she said lightly.

‘Yeah. Call me later,' he said softly, ‘and maybe we can do something when we're both free.'

‘Great idea.' She stroked his face. ‘Thank you for letting me share today with you.'

‘My pleasure.'

* * *

Mandy called Nick later that evening. ‘I really like her, and so do the boys. They haven't stopped talking about her since she left.'

‘Uh-huh,' Nick said, knowing that there was going to be more.

‘She's a million miles away from Naomi—that one would never have had a water fight with the boys.'

No. Naomi had never really taken to them. ‘Or ganged up on me so blatantly,' he said. ‘You know the three of them soaked me in the park?'

‘Suck it up and deal with it, you big baby,' Mandy said, laughing. ‘But, seriously, Nick, Xander thinks she's amazing. She had a chat with him in the park—he wouldn't tell me what she said, but his attitude's changed. He said he wasn't going to let cancer define him.'

‘Sammy's sister had cancer,' he said.

‘The one who donates her hair for wigs, too?'

‘Yes,' he said.

‘And I bet Sammy was there for her every step of the way.' She paused. ‘Nick, I know how you feel about relationships, but I'm telling you now that Sammy's different. She's a keeper.'

Yeah, he knew.

But sometimes he thought he could see something in Sammy's eyes—something she was holding back. He really wasn't sure if she felt the same way about him that he was starting to feel about her.

Did he have the spirit to risk his heart again?

And, knowing that relationships weren't his strong point, was it fair to her?

CHAPTER NINE

L
ATER
IN
THE
WEEK
,
Sammy had a girly pizza night with Claire, Ashleigh and her sister Jenny. She ended up telling them about the interview she'd given Ben. And admitting that she'd met Nick's family.

‘Have you told Nick about your leg, yet?' Claire asked.

‘I've tried telling him a few times,' Sammy said miserably. ‘But I keep chickening out at the last minute. And what if he reacts badly when he realises I've kept it from him all this time—especially as I've had loads of chances to tell him the truth?'

‘He might be a bit upset at first that you kept it from him,' Jenny said, ‘but then he'll think about it and realise that it's a hell of a thing to tell someone. And then it will be fine.'

‘Hmm.' Sammy wasn't so sure.

‘Give him a chance, Sammy,' Ashleigh urged. ‘Tell him.'

‘I'll do it when I get back from New York next week, I promise,' Sammy said.

And she really meant to do it.

Except, when she got back to the airport, Nick was waiting for her right by the arrivals gate. Seeing him so unexpectedly totally threw her.

He took her suitcase and the heaviest of her photographic boxes from her. ‘How was your flight?'

‘Fine.' She frowned. ‘Hang on, what are you doing here?'

‘The trial finished at lunchtime and I had some time to kill. I thought you might like a lift home.'

She knew part of that was a fib—following one trial, Nick would be in the middle of doing prep work for the next one, so he'd clearly taken time off just to meet her here—but it was so good to see him.

‘Did you eat on the plane?' he asked.

‘I had a sandwich, so I'm fine.'

He gave her a sidelong look. ‘I've never seen you in a business suit before.'

‘I'm not always a complete scruff,' she said. And she was very glad that she was wearing thick opaque tights, to hide her scars and avoid any awkward questions.

‘No, I didn't mean that,' he said. ‘I'm just used to you wearing black trousers. Smart ones.' He stopped and kissed her. ‘You look fabulous. And I've missed you.'

‘I've missed you, too,' she admitted, kissing him back.

He loaded her luggage into his car and drove her back to her flat.

‘Do you want to come in for a coffee?' she asked.

‘I'd love to.'

Her heart hammered. She was going to tell him now. Give him the choice to walk away, the way Bryn and the others had, or to accept her for who she was.

She slid her jacket off and hung it over the back of a chair, switched the kettle on and practised the words in her head.
There's something I need to tell you. Nothing to worry about. Just so you know, nearly half a lifetime ago I had osteosarcoma, but I'm absolutely fine now.

But when Nick had put the visitor parking permit inside his windscreen, he walked back into her kitchen and kissed her stupid, and all the words flew out of her head.

She kissed him back, loving the way his mouth teased hers, warm and coaxing and sexy as hell.

‘You make me feel light-headed,' she whispered.

‘That's how you make me feel, too.' He drew her closer. ‘Sammy. I know this is soon, I know it's crazy, but I've never felt a connection like this before. Not even with...' He shook his head, clearly not wanting to talk about his ex. ‘This is ridiculous. In court, I'm articulate and I'm never stuck for what to say. Right here, right now, I'm making a total mess of this.' He brushed his mouth over hers. ‘What I'm trying to say is, I want you. I really,
really
want you. And right now there's nothing more I'd like than to carry you to your bed.'

The smouldering heat in his eyes knocked every bit of common sense out of her brain. She'd never been looked at with such desire before. The feeling was heady, and she gave in to her body's urging. How could she possibly resist? She couldn't think about anything else other than what he'd just said and how much she wanted that to happen, too. ‘Then what are you waiting for?' she asked, sounding a little hoarse.

He gave her the most sensual smile she'd ever seen, scooped her up and carried her to her bedroom.

When he set Sammy down on her feet next to the bed, her heart felt as if it were hammering so hard against her ribs that the whole world could hear it.

‘Curtains,' she whispered. She switched on her bedside lamp, closed the curtains and walked back to him.

‘I'm all yours,' he said softly. ‘Do what you will with me.'

Need throbbed through her. She'd never wanted anyone so badly in her entire life. With shaking hands, she removed his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his collar. And then she dealt with each button on his shirt in turn.

He really was beautiful. And she couldn't resist skimming her fingertips over his pectorals and down to his abs.

‘When I was photographing you for the calendar,' she said, ‘I really wanted to photograph you for myself.'

‘Oh?' He looked interested.

‘In a green glade somewhere,' she continued.

‘Wearing what?' he asked.

She grinned. ‘The same as any other Greek statue.'

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Just a fig leaf?'

She laughed. ‘No fig leaf. You have beautiful musculature.'

He frowned. ‘Are you telling me you're seeing me as a life model?'

‘Right now, no.' Her voice went husky. ‘I'm seeing you as my lover.'

‘Good.' He stole a kiss. ‘I'm looking forward to learning what you like. What makes you smile. What makes you see stars.'

‘I like the sound of that,' she said.

He kissed her, then undid her own white shirt, exploring and touching and teasing as he uncovered her skin. He traced the lacy edge of her bra. ‘I like this,' he whispered.

‘Good.' She unbuckled his belt, her hands shaking as she undid the button of his trousers; she slid the zip down and helped him ease his trousers off.

He kicked off his shoes and got rid of his socks, then kissed her again. ‘I think we're a little mismatched here, Ms Thompson.'

Sammy spread her hands in invitation. ‘All yours.' She smiled. ‘What's the phrase you used? “Do what you will with me.”'

The heat in his eyes took her breath away.

He unzipped her lined skirt and let it fall to the floor next to his trousers.

And then, as he started to roll the waistband of her tights downwards, her common sense came back.

It felt as if someone had tipped a whole bucket of ice-cold water over her.

She couldn't do this.

Not now.

Maybe not ever.

Memories echoed in her head. The disgust in her last boyfriend's eyes when he'd seen her leg. The way Bryn had always insisted on having the light off, as if he couldn't bear to see her skin. He'd said it was because he hadn't been able to bear to think about her being in pain, but she'd known the truth. Her scar had repulsed him.

She knew Nick wasn't Bryn. In her head, she knew he was a good man. That he'd understand.

But the fear was too strong. She really, really couldn't do this.

‘Sammy?' Nick stopped, clearly seeing that she was upset.

She shook her head. ‘I can't do this. I'm sorry. I thought I could. But I can't.'

‘What's wrong?' He curled his fingers round hers. ‘Tell me.'

That was the point. She couldn't. Every single time she tried, her throat felt as if it had filled with sand. And she sure as hell wasn't going to show him. Apart from being unfair to him—it would come as a total shock—she couldn't bear to see the disgust or the pity in his face when he saw her leg.

Right now, she felt totally inadequate. She'd so wanted to do this. She'd so wanted to be
normal
and to make love with the most gorgeous man she'd ever met. But she wasn't normal, she never would be, and she knew she could never have the uncomplicated relationship she'd longed for.

And the panic flooding through her was far, far stronger than the voice of reason.

‘I can't do this, Nick.' Her breath hitched. ‘You have to go.'

He shook his head, his dark eyes filled with concern. ‘Sammy, I can't just leave you on your own when you're upset.'

‘Please, Nick. Just go.' She dropped her gaze. ‘It's not you. Nothing you've done. It's me.' She was too scared to face the fear, too pathetic and weak and snivelling. She pulled her hand away from his and crossed her arms over her breasts.

‘Sammy?'

‘Please, just go,' she repeated.

She couldn't look at him. But she could hear the puzzlement in his voice, the concern. ‘Sammy, you're clearly upset and I'm really not happy about leaving you on your own like this when something's obviously badly wrong. Can I ring someone for you? Your sister? Your friend who made you the dress?'

Why did he have to be so nice about it? Why couldn't he just lose his temper and storm out? Why couldn't he be one of those horrible men she'd dated before?

Holding the tears back took so much effort. ‘I can't do this, Nick. I just can't. I can't be with you.' She'd been stupid and selfish to think that this would work. ‘This thing between us isn't going to work. It's not you, it's me.'

‘But why?'

‘It just
is
. I'm sorry. I really wish it could be different.' That at least was true. ‘But we can't be together any more. It's over.'

‘But—I thought we were getting closer.' His voice was full of hurt. ‘You met my family. We...' He stopped.

Yeah. They had been getting closer. She really liked his family. And they'd just been about to make love.

But this wasn't fair of her. Even if he could cope with her being a cancer survivor, there were the complications. The fertility issues. She knew he wanted kids of his own, and she might not be able to offer him that. She'd been unfair and selfish to let things go this far. She should've stuck to her rules and ended it at the third date. Before either of them got hurt.

‘I'm sorry,' she said. ‘Please go, Nick.'

* * *

Nick dragged his clothes on in silence, too stunned to say any more.

Sammy had ended their relationship.

Just when he thought they were moving closer to the next stage. To making more of a commitment to each other.

They'd almost made love, for pity's sake.

There was clearly something very badly wrong, something that had upset her, but she obviously didn't trust him enough to tell him what it was. Which made him feel like something that had just crawled out from under a stone.

Pain lanced through him. It looked as if he'd made the same mistake all over again. He was pretty sure that, unlike Naomi, Sammy wasn't having an affair and using his workaholic tendencies as an excuse to make him the one at fault for the break-up. But, just as he had last time, he'd invested more of himself in the relationship than his partner had. Sammy had made it clear that she didn't feel the same way about him that he felt about her.

Right now she couldn't even bear to look at him.

Feeling horrible, he left in silence and drove back to his flat. It was an effort to concentrate, and a couple of taxis beeped their horns at him for not driving on the second that the traffic lights had turned green. And he was none the wiser by the time he got home. Why something that had felt so special had just dissolved into nothingness. But he'd just have to suck it up and deal with it. He'd done it before and survived.

He tried calling her the next day. If nothing else, just to be sure that she was OK—because he was pretty sure that he'd seen fear in her face. Something was wrong, he was sure.

But she didn't answer her phone or return his messages.

Just silence.

And he wasn't pathetic enough to keep trying to talk to her when his attentions weren't welcome.

Over the next week and a half, Nick buried himself in work—that, at least, would never let him down. And he stonewalled any questions until people finally stopped asking him if everything was OK.

It wasn't OK.

But it would be.

Eventually.

* * *

Sammy's eyes felt three times the size of normal—she'd cried for so long. But she knew from experience that the best way to deal with heartache was to concentrate on her work and not leave even the tiniest moment free for the pain to make itself felt.

Though she had to tell a white lie at her photo shoot, the morning after she'd broken up with Nick. ‘I've got conjunctivitis,' she said, ‘so I need to wear dark glasses.'

Her eyes were sore and puffy, all right. But from crying, not from an eye infection.

It felt as if she'd made the biggest mistake of her life.

But she knew she'd done the right thing in the long run.

She just hoped it would stop hurting soon.

* * *

‘I know something's wrong,' Mandy said. ‘I'm your big sister. You can't fob me off with any more excuses. And Danica next door is babysitting the boys, so I can stay here until you finally tell me what's wrong.'

Nick sighed. ‘OK. Sammy and I have split up.'

‘What? But why did you dump her? Sammy was lovely,' Mandy said.

‘I didn't dump her. She dumped me.' Nick shrugged.

‘No
way
,' Mandy said, sounding shocked. ‘The way she was with you—I could see how much she thought of you. You must've got it wrong.'

‘She said it wasn't working for her. And you can't force someone to feel something they don't.' He looked away. ‘At least I didn't make a total fool out of myself and tell her how I felt about her before she dumped me.'

‘Oh, Nick.' Mandy hugged him. ‘Are you sure you're not just being a typical bloke and totally misreading things?'