heat.
“I wanted to ask you, you know.”
The timbre of his voice beckoned her attention. “Why didn’t you?”
The corners of his mouth tucked in. “You’d been my best friend all my life, and suddenly I was thinking of you in a different way. I was afraid of what you’d think.” He lifted a shoulder. “Afraid you didn’t feel the same way.”
What would she have said if he’d asked her? She remembered the dance they shared in this very room all those years ago. Her own feelings were changing then; she just hadn’t wanted to admit it.
“I did finally outgrow my two left feet.” He reached over and turned the volume up. All-4-One belted out the chorus.
Sam knew what was coming next. It was time to leave. Before she turned to pick up her purse, he spoke.
“Let me prove it.” He held his hands out to her, palms up.
All she had to do was step into his arms. Put one foot in front of the other and slip her hand into his. She could lay her head on his shoulder and lose herself in the strength of his embrace. She could forget about her pile of debts and the stress of raising a child alone. She could just follow someone else’s lead for a change.
Sam remembered the way she felt when she first danced with him for those brief moments. She remembered that night out on the ocean when he told her he loved her. She remembered the fear that sprang up from deep inside.
“I should be going.” Sam retrieved her purse. “I have to get an early start in the morning.” She turned toward the door, seeing his hands drop to his sides.
“Thanks again for your help today,” she said, opening the door. Max was sprinting up the porch steps ahead of Caden, and Sam let him pass. “Time to go, Caden.” She crossed the lawn, hearing her daughter’s footsteps behind her, swishing through the grass as Sam fled into the darkness.
Seven
S am was prying the lid from the paint bucket the next day when Max darted into the yard, his owner following.
“Max!” Caden called from the end of the pier. “Come ’ere, boy!” Max ran, his paws clattering across the boards. He stopped just short of jumping on Caden, and she rewarded him with a hug.
“’Morning,” Landon said.
Sam stripped the lid from the bucket and set it in the grass next to the Adirondack chairs. “Good morning.” He looked good in the dusty blue T-shirt and jean shorts. Too good. She’d thought about him until past midnight. The scene in his living room had replayed in her head, and because she tossed and turned, she slept in and was getting a late start.
She wiped down one chair with a wet rag to prepare it for the paint.
Landon put his hands on his hips and eyed the extra brush she’d brought out for Caden.
“I don’t expect you to help, Landon. I know you have a life.” She turned the chair over and wiped the underside.
“I want to.”
And I want you to keep your distance. Yesterday had shown her how vulnerable she was still. After all these years, they picked up right where they’d left off. As much as the friendship pulled her, the deeper feelings he evoked made her want to hightail it back to Boston.
When she dropped the rag and reached for the brush, Landon picked up the discarded cloth and began cleaning the second chair. She filled her brush and slathered paint on the wood.
A few minutes later Landon dropped the rag and picked up Caden’s brush.
“Have you considered keeping the house?”
“No.”
He swiped the paint neatly along the wooden slats. “Why not?”
Sam shrugged. “My life is in Boston.”
“Doesn’t have to be.”
Keeping the house had never even occurred to Sam, and she didn’t plan on considering it now. Besides, it wasn’t as if she could afford living here. “I never wanted to stay here. You know that.”
He took his time trimming the edge of the chair’s arm, his tongue caught between his lips. “Emmett’s gone.”
“The memories aren’t.” If she was honest, they were with her even in
“I wanted to ask you, you know.”
The timbre of his voice beckoned her attention. “Why didn’t you?”
The corners of his mouth tucked in. “You’d been my best friend all my life, and suddenly I was thinking of you in a different way. I was afraid of what you’d think.” He lifted a shoulder. “Afraid you didn’t feel the same way.”
What would she have said if he’d asked her? She remembered the dance they shared in this very room all those years ago. Her own feelings were changing then; she just hadn’t wanted to admit it.
“I did finally outgrow my two left feet.” He reached over and turned the volume up. All-4-One belted out the chorus.
Sam knew what was coming next. It was time to leave. Before she turned to pick up her purse, he spoke.
“Let me prove it.” He held his hands out to her, palms up.
All she had to do was step into his arms. Put one foot in front of the other and slip her hand into his. She could lay her head on his shoulder and lose herself in the strength of his embrace. She could forget about her pile of debts and the stress of raising a child alone. She could just follow someone else’s lead for a change.
Sam remembered the way she felt when she first danced with him for those brief moments. She remembered that night out on the ocean when he told her he loved her. She remembered the fear that sprang up from deep inside.
“I should be going.” Sam retrieved her purse. “I have to get an early start in the morning.” She turned toward the door, seeing his hands drop to his sides.
“Thanks again for your help today,” she said, opening the door. Max was sprinting up the porch steps ahead of Caden, and Sam let him pass. “Time to go, Caden.” She crossed the lawn, hearing her daughter’s footsteps behind her, swishing through the grass as Sam fled into the darkness.
Seven
S am was prying the lid from the paint bucket the next day when Max darted into the yard, his owner following.
“Max!” Caden called from the end of the pier. “Come ’ere, boy!” Max ran, his paws clattering across the boards. He stopped just short of jumping on Caden, and she rewarded him with a hug.
“’Morning,” Landon said.
Sam stripped the lid from the bucket and set it in the grass next to the Adirondack chairs. “Good morning.” He looked good in the dusty blue T-shirt and jean shorts. Too good. She’d thought about him until past midnight. The scene in his living room had replayed in her head, and because she tossed and turned, she slept in and was getting a late start.
She wiped down one chair with a wet rag to prepare it for the paint.
Landon put his hands on his hips and eyed the extra brush she’d brought out for Caden.
“I don’t expect you to help, Landon. I know you have a life.” She turned the chair over and wiped the underside.
“I want to.”
And I want you to keep your distance. Yesterday had shown her how vulnerable she was still. After all these years, they picked up right where they’d left off. As much as the friendship pulled her, the deeper feelings he evoked made her want to hightail it back to Boston.
When she dropped the rag and reached for the brush, Landon picked up the discarded cloth and began cleaning the second chair. She filled her brush and slathered paint on the wood.
A few minutes later Landon dropped the rag and picked up Caden’s brush.
“Have you considered keeping the house?”
“No.”
He swiped the paint neatly along the wooden slats. “Why not?”
Sam shrugged. “My life is in Boston.”
“Doesn’t have to be.”
Keeping the house had never even occurred to Sam, and she didn’t plan on considering it now. Besides, it wasn’t as if she could afford living here. “I never wanted to stay here. You know that.”
He took his time trimming the edge of the chair’s arm, his tongue caught between his lips. “Emmett’s gone.”
“The memories aren’t.” If she was honest, they were with her even in
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