Exposed to Passion (Five Senses series Book 3) Page 16

She was on a real date—with Sam, meeting his family for the first time. The evening, a success so far, rapidly disintegrated into what Gunnar would call a clusterfuck.

  By the time Sam returned to the table, Rikki and the rest of his family had recovered from the shock of Sherry’s vulgar gesture as she’d stormed out of the pub.

  “What the hell was that about, Sam?” Bruce demanded.

  All eyes trained on him expectantly. Rikki knew he was troubled. His posture, normally fluid and graceful, radiated tension. Sam’s expression stayed blank, and he didn’t answer his dad’s question.

  “Did you see what she did, Sam?” Eileen asked, her tone incredulous. When it became apparent Sam wouldn’t speak, she frowned. “No wonder kids these days don’t show any respect. If all parents acted like her, it’s clear they won’t learn it at home.

  Jem shook her head, her pretty curls bouncing. “I think you can say that about some kids, but not all of them. Look at Avery. He’s a great kid and I’ve enjoyed getting to know his friends. Along the way, they must have had some positive guidance.”

  Sam remained quiet while conversation about teenagers flowed around him. Rikki’s awareness of his discomfort ratcheted up a new level. Leaning closer, she dropped her hand to his thigh and whispered, “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She flinched at the anger in his voice. He was far from okay, but obviously unwilling to talk about it. Even though Sam had ragged on Marguerite earlier, and jealousy had flared when Sherry had dug her talons into Sam’s arm and rubbed her body suggestively against him, concern for him trumped her feelings. She searched his face, mentally urging him to open up, but his features remained shuttered. “Sam, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Really, I’m fine, so quit asking.” His brusque tone startled her. His brows drew together in a tight line over snapping eyes. “Mom, you don’t mind if we go play pool, do you?”

  He’d deflected her concern, making it clear whatever had his boxers in a twist wasn’t a topic they’d be discussing. Not now. And certainly not in the presence of his parents. Steam rose in a slow simmer through her chest. A feeling she did her best to disregard, knowing whatever Sherry had said to Sam wasn’t any of her business.

  Covering her hand, Sam tightened his fingers around hers and stood, pulling her with him. He gave her a thin-lipped smile, then looked at Jack. “You and Jem want to join us for a game?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he walked toward an open table in the game area. Trailing after him, she mentally shrugged her shoulders. His behavior was typical of a man whose thoughts were troubled, rendering him too busy sorting out his volatile feelings to have any concern for others around him.

  * * * *

  She’d teamed up with Jem in a girls-against-boys match. After the women had blown the men away in two games, Jack propped his cue against the table, crossed his arms over his broad chest, and scowled at his brother.

  “Okay, Sam. Who pissed in your Corn Flakes today?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” There was a distinct warning in the glance Sam shot back across the table.

  Rikki paused from lifting the full beer Molly had delivered to the pub table in the corner of the game room. She didn’t bother to hide her interest in the brothers’ conversation. Sam had loosened up a bit during the games, but his grin hadn’t returned to the quick, sexy one she’d gotten used to. And the light never reached his eyes. Even though they’d known each other less than a month, she’d noticed.

  “It’s clear to everyone standing here that something is bugging the shit out of you. It started after you spoke with Sherry Hillman. Either talk about it or let it go. ’Cause you need to get your head in the game, bro. You’re making the Kerrigan men look bad.”

  Good for Jack, trying to take the sting out of his words by making a joke of it.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t have the effect Jack intended. Sam’s shoulders tightened visibly and he stopped racking the balls for the next game, fixing him with a baleful glare. “It’s not me, dude. You’re the guy who scratched. Twice. In both games.”

  Pursing his lips into a tight seam, he went back to swapping balls around in the wooden triangle. His anger cracked across the table, punctuated by the sound of the balls clacking together.

  Opening his mouth to retort, Jack stopped when Jem laid her hand on his arm and shook her head, almost imperceptibly. He snapped his lips back together and squinted through the glare of the Tiffany-style lamp suspended over the table. Jem swept her hand down Jack’s arm, laced their fingers together, and forced a laugh. “Jack, Sam’s right. The way you played was embarrassing.”

  Jack had clearly gotten the message to leave the topic alone. Rikki had gotten Jem’s message from across the room.

  “It doesn’t hurt that Rikki is better at pool than you are at darts.” Jack turned to grin at Rikki, displaying the irresistible dimples that had been missing on Sam’s face since his chat with Sherry. “Where’d you learn to play?”

  “My grandfather’s basement. My brother, Gunnar, and I would spend the summers with him in Maine while my parents traveled. Grandfather’s summer estate was a long way from civilization. There wasn’t much else to do to entertain ourselves after the sun went down.”

  Jem had turned her head sharply toward Rikki when she mentioned Gunnar. She looked toward Rikki, her expression puzzled. “That’s so odd.”

  “What is, sugar?” Jack draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

  “I met a guy named Gunnar who spent summers with his grandparents in Maine. I met him at one of Margo Tremont’s dinner parties. Margo was my boss in New York,” she explained to Rikki.

  Anxiety teased the top of Rikki’s stomach, flitting around like butterflies on crack. This wasn’t the time or place to reveal her true identity to Sam. Given his current mood, knowing her brother’s last name was Sims could make him fracture like the pixels of a digital photo.

  Jem canted her head to the side and laughed. “He made sure my wine glass was never empty, even though I was working. I know he told me his last name, but I don’t think it was Salerno. God knows he doesn’t look anything like you. He was a big, blond Swedish guy, the exact opposite of you. What was his name? It was…” She paused and then laughed again, sharing a glance with Jack in what Rikki was certain was an inside joke. “Like I said—he made sure my wine glass stayed full. He could have told me his last name was Bloomberg and I might not remember.”

  Her elation at the reprieve tamed the raucous wings fluttering in her stomach. Releasing a pent-up breath, she forced her fingers to relax around the beer bottle she’d clutched in a death grip.

  She grinned. “I get that way with wine myself. It’s why I stick to beer.” She saluted Jack and Jem with her bottle and took a long slug. Picking up the other bottle on the table, she walked to Sam’s side and offered it to him.

  Hummingbirds replaced the butterflies in her gut when Sam’s half-smile reached his eyes, warming the wary cold that had resided there for the past hour. That he was still troubled was evident, but for the sake of present company, he’d put it aside. Rikki longed to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him, to remove the last cool vestige of annoyance, to transform his chilly look to the hot desire she’d seen last night when she’d peeled off his clothes.

  He mouthed something to her and it took a moment to connect that he’d asked her a question. She blinked to clear the reverie she’d fallen into.

  His words sank in…was she ready to leave? Even though it was early, she nodded.

  Picking up their cue sticks, she carried them to the holder mounted on the wall and replaced them. When she turned around, Sam had moved around the table and was speaking quietly to Jack and Jem, the three of them huddled together, a united force. The space behind her eyes stung, the ache of exclusion wrapping around her heart. The brothers’ dark heads bent toward Jem’s honey-colored one, the intensity of their low conversation left her shut out, a sen
sation she abhorred.

  Sam’s face was grim when he lifted troubled eyes to her as she approached. Jack lifted one finger, as if to say, give us a minute, nodded, and returned his attention to Sam, while Jem listened to her fiancé with rapt attention.

  Rikki batted her hurt away, reminding herself she’d only known his family for an hour. She couldn’t expect to be included in their private conversation. Hell, she’d only just met Sam for that matter. And since their relationship had been mostly physical, until tonight’s date, she didn’t have the right to expect more from him, either. Feet dragging, she walked back to the table where they’d left their belongings and snagged her coat off the back of the chair. Bruce and Eileen had left earlier, so she stood next to the table by herself. As she was slipping into her sleeves, the weight of the coat lifted. Sam stood behind her, the collar of her canvas jacket clutched in his fists.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, his voice low. “Jack couldn’t leave it alone. Do you mind leaving early?”

  “Not at all.” Her abrupt tone drew Sam’s eyes up to meet hers. She attempted to hide the hurt resonating in her voice with a tight smile. “It was a busy day today, and we were up late. It’s probably best to go.”

  “Rikki, I—”

  She laid her fingers over his lips, cutting his words off. “It’s okay. Really.”

  The way he searched her face made her unexplainably nervous. So did the huge sigh he heaved as he pulled the lapels of her jacket together and started buttoning it. He paused as he reached the top button. His warm breath brushed her cheek a split second before his lips did. He bent past her to grab his flannel-lined Windbreaker and pulled it over his head, leaving her gaping in surprise.

  He’d kissed her cheek the way her brother might. Warm, but dispassionate, distracted…distanced. Not the sort of kisses she’d become accustomed to.

  She barely had time to process the experience when Sam lifted his hand toward Jack and Jem, who’d remained in discussion by the pool table. Jack nodded curtly and Jem smiled and waved goodbye to Rikki, who summoned her good manners long enough to return the wave. She shoved both hands into the deep pockets of her coat as Sam gently steered her toward the exit.

  He leaned past her to pull the door to the tavern open. His clean, masculine scent wafted over the smell of fried food. Normally, Sam’s fresh essence was both comforting and alluring, leaving her eager to melt in his arms. Tonight, the smell only intensified her loneliness.

  Hunching her shoulders against a chill she wasn’t sure was real or imagined, she began to walk toward her home. Sam reached for her arm but she half-twisted away, walking resolutely forward.

  Silence, heavy, uncomfortable…unusual…stretched between them. Lost in her hurt, Rikki recognized that Sam was equally focused on his thoughts. The evening had begun so well. Until Sherry Hillman interfered.

  Seething, dark anger over the woman’s meddling spurted through Rikki. Irritation made her speed up her pace. Whatever the Momzilla had said still bothered Sam, even though he’d denied it.

  And it had ruined their evening.

  Halfway home, they passed under an archway across the sidewalk. Woven with skeletal-looking wisteria vines, the sudden shade hid the full moon that had lit their path. Sam’s fingers dug into her shoulders, halting her forward momentum. Her back bounced against his chest, and he slid his arms around her from behind, holding her close in the relative privacy of the arbor. She squeezed her eyes shut and savored the contact.

  The scent of buds about to burst teased Rikki’s nose and she inhaled deeply, relishing the hint of spring. Some of her discomfort eased, replaced by a shadow of the connection they’d shared this morning. A connection based on chemistry, she reminded herself. Great chemistry and a mutual interest in photography. But nothing more.

  And wasn’t that the saddest thought she’d ever had?

  Sam pressed his lips to her temple, then put them close to her ear to whisper, “How did we get here? To this cold, silent place? I thought we were having fun.”

  He spun her around to face him, gripping her shoulders when she would have moved away. “Come on, baby. Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

  His despairing tone tore a small hole in her heart, and the unhappiness reflected in his eyes ripped the tear wide enough to drive a Mack truck through.

  She stilled under his gaze and met his eyes steadily. “You really want to know?” At his vigorous nod, she dropped her gaze and drew a deep breath. “I wish you hadn’t shut me out.”

  Chucking a finger under her chin, he lifted until she looked him in the eyes again. “What are you talking about, Rikki? You’re the one who quit talking.”

  The floodgate opened and she lost the ability to keep her words behind her teeth.

  “Yes, I did. But you did first. I asked what was troubling you and you dismissed my concern. Even when Jack tried to get you to talk, you only glared back at him. That’s no way to treat your brother, or the woman you’re sleeping with. Even if I am only a friend with benefits, I’m still a friend. If something is bothering you, you should talk about it. If not to me, than with your family.”

  “That’s never been easy for me. To open up when something is troubling me. I’d rather work it out for myself.”

  “I don’t understand. I’ve never sensed that you’ve ever held anything back. Not from me.”

  Guilt from her own secret ripped through her, but she shoved it roughly aside. This wasn’t about her. “What in the world did that woman say to you?”

  Sam grunted, then slid his hand down her arm until he snaked it into her pocket, grabbing her fingers. He tugged until he’d freed her hand from the coat. He began to walk, pulling her along with him. In an oak tree across the street, a night bird began to warble a sweet melody. Other than that, and the sound of their footfalls, silence reigned between them.

  Sam drew a breath and Rikki held hers expectantly, willing him to talk. He forcefully expelled the breath, remaining silent. He sucked in another lungful of air and began. “Sherry was concerned about what happened last night. Not about Katie, mind you, but on Suzannah’s behalf. She actually suggested that Katie was merely acting higher than a kite.” He snorted derisively.

  “Well, blood tests prove something different.”

  “That’s not all. What really bothered me was she intimated she had evidence of gross misconduct. My gross misconduct. She kept talking about my scandalous behavior. She intimated it could be grounds for firing me.” He shook his head, as if he’d been tasked with completing a puzzle with missing pieces.

  “Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?”

  “Not a clue. And believe me, I’ve been wracking my brain for anything that could be considered inappropriate. That’s why I quit talking. I’ve been over everything I’ve done for the past three weeks, and I’ve got nothing.”

  “What do you think she’ll do?”

  “I guess I’ll find out Monday morning. She said she’d see me in Mr. Edward’s office.” He grunted softly under his breath. “I’ve only been called to the principal’s office one other time, and I was a student then. That was a nightmare. I think that’s what bugs me most.”

  “You want to tell me about it?”

  “Yeah, thanks for asking.” Sam glanced sideways at her and she saw relief in his eyes. He drew a huge breath and continued. “When I was a senior I knew this guy, Rob. I thought he was my best buddy.”

  When she nodded, he continued. “Rob found out one of the other kids in our class, Curtis, was gay and took it upon himself to haze the poor guy. It started out with just small stuff. Knocking his books off his desk, stealing his towel after gym class. Making fun of his physique. Stupid shit like that. The same kind of crap that Katie’s dealing with now. A couple of us told Rob to knock it off, but he wouldn’t stop. The pranks got steadily worse. Rob was an asshat to all of us when we wouldn’t go along with his stunts. He started rumors that a couple of us were the masterminds. And then he started tr
eating Curtis like they were bosom buddies.

  “One day during a bad rainstorm, Rob offered the kid a ride home. I was in the car, too, but I could see Rob was planning something heinous. I forced him to let me out. I tried to convince Curtis to get out of the car, but he wouldn’t. I think he was afraid to jeopardize his new-found friendship with Rob. I’d already stepped out of the car and was standing in the pouring rain arguing with Curtis when Rob drove away.” Sam shivered as if reliving the moment from years ago. “Five hours later, they found Curtis beaten, delirious, and tied up under the bleachers. The temperature had dropped drastically and the rain had turned to sleet. Poor guy was a Curtis popsicle.”

  He tightened his grip on her hand, the anguish of his past translating itself in the action. She squeezed back, silently encouraging him to finish his story. His steps slowed and with a faraway look on his face, he continued.

  “After I learned Curtis was in the hospital, I told my parents how I’d been involved. They went with me to the school office the next day. The principal called Rob in and the bastard lied out of both sides of his mouth. Saying it was all my idea to grab Curtis and that I’d landed the first punch. Poor Curtis was in a coma and couldn’t tell anyone what had actually happened. So it came down to my word against Rob’s.”

  “God, Sam. That must have been horrible.”

  He scoffed, like horrible was the understatement of the century. “Both of us were suspended. My scholarship was in danger of being revoked because of it.”

  “What happened?”

  “Curtis regained consciousness a week later and cleared me of any wrong doing. I still got my scholarship. Rob was charged with hate crimes, kidnapping, and assault. He was expelled. I heard he finally earned his GED in prison. Rob’s parents moved to Boston after the incident, and I never saw him again. Curtis and I ended up being good friends. In fact, I was best man in his wedding when Massachusetts approved same-sex marriage.”

  “I’m glad it worked out for you. And for Curtis. I can see why you hate the idea of being called to the school office, though.”