Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
Sam
My morning crawls by while I do everything I can think of to distract myself from the impending landlord visit.
And yes, my landlord happens to be a gorgeous, intense single dad who is never more than a heartbeat from my mind.
Honestly, that’s been the biggest problem. It’s like deciding we’d be friends but knowing he’d like to explore more hardwired him into my brain and now, I can’t stop thinking about what would happen if we weren’t friends.
No, I haven’t let myself fully explore what would happen if I get to a point where I feel like I can be open to something more, but it’s tempting.
It’s… impending.
Especially when I see him loading up the girls into his truck.
He’s so patient with them, even when I can tell they’re running late.
Or when I see him walk by the diner in his uniform looking all kinds of cowboy sheriff dreamy.
Or when he’s on his deck, staring out at the fields and mountains beyond, and I can see a tiny part of his silhouette highlighted in the glow of the moon as I gaze out there, too.
The knock startles me into action, and though I’ve scrubbed the apartment so it’s clean enough to eat off the floors, I still scramble around for a second, swiping a hand over the counter to make sure there’s no dust and straightening a throw pillow on the couch.
Before I open the door, I do give myself one steadying breath. We’re friends. He’s here to do a simple job. I can act completely normal because everything is normal between us.
Except the electric eye contact and the way his palm seared through your clothing and made your heart nearly explode last night.
Yeah, well. Except that.
He is, as usual, heart-poundingly attractive when I open the door. He’s standing in a wide-legged stance staring down at his phone, tapping out a message with a furrow in his brow.
“I’m sorry, I’m just—” He looks up to see me, and his thumbs halt their action. His gaze sweeps over my face and his eyes shut for a long blink. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”
My cheeks flame and a not-small thrill erupts in my chest.
“And I shouldn’t have said that out loud. But that’s how the morning’s going.”
The lopsided, almost boyish smile he gives me is absolutely brain-melting.
This man is so masculine and solid and formidable, seeing this playful side is problematic.
It makes him so human and appealing. He’s supposed to stay an untouchable two-dimensional version of a person so I can’t quite convince myself it’s safe to try anything with him.
But this? This and everything else I learn about him?
It all serves to push him into stark 4K.
“Tough start to the day?”
Oh, thank goodness. For a minute there, I thought he’d robbed me of my power of speech.
“Nothing major, but you could say that. Lil had nightmares, and I apparently forgot to add grounds to the coffee maker, so I had a nice carafe of hot water when I stumbled into the kitchen after waking up on the floor of Lil’s room.
” His eyes widen. “Nothing makes me more aware of my age than waking up and feeling like I’ve been outnumbered in a bar fight, but what actually happened is I slept on the floor with one pillow instead of three. ”
I bite my lip because he’s adorable, and I like him like this.
I really, really like him.
“That sounds pretty miserable. Just the one pillow?” I shake my head.
“Right? It’s a wonder I’m upright now. For a minute, I thought I’d have to call Dec and Finn to come peel me up off the ground.”
He’s ridiculous, but it’s making me all kinds of warm and restless to see him so chatty and relaxed. “You could call me, too. I’ve got the fastest commute.”
He takes this in, seeming to feel the weight of the words I’m offering. “Thank you, Sam. That means a lot.”
It’s not that I wouldn’t have helped a neighbor in LA. But I probably wouldn’t have offered it to a man unless he was a child or someone elderly. Never would I extend a hand to a man close to my age.
“How old are you?” It slips out before I can stop it.
Surprise flashes over his features, but he answers immediately. “Thirty-seven. You?”
“Thirty.”
“So you’re Finn’s age.” He says this like he’s come to a conclusion.
“Am I? How far apart is everyone?”
“I’m thirty-seven, Eirinn and Mac are thirty-six, Dec turns thirty-four in a few weeks, then Finn is thirty, and May’s twenty-eight.” He grins when he sees my eyes widen.
“Eirinn and Mac are twins?” There’s some amount of math involved here that means Mary was pregnant for years. Which is obvious when one discovers she has six biological children. But I’ve never stopped to think about how nonstop that must’ve been.
His lips curve up into a small smile. “Irish twins.”
“Wait, what is that?”
He grins full-out now. My heart flips, and I fold my arms across my body like they might protect me from the attack that is his pretty smile.
“It means they’re less than a year apart.”
My mouth drops open.
“Yeah. I never thought twice about it as a kid, but as an adult…” He shakes his head. “Apparently, it was a big surprise when Mac popped up on the radar. Lots of people joking about whether my parents understood how it had happened and such.” He wrinkles his nose.
There’s something about the gesture that cracks me open. That little gesture, so boyish and human.
“They were certainly busy. And your mom is an absolute hero.”
He’s already nodding. “She is. Even if she’d never had any of us, she would be, though.”
Is this man actually some sort of advanced cyborg species programmed to say the exact right thing?
I love that he honors his parents and appreciates what his mom went through to have all of them.
I love even more that he sees her value simply because of who she is, and not by virtue of the fact that she produced kids.
“I love that.” I have to say it, and he should know it.
Mr. Bingley jumps up on the windowsill and draws our attention. This one’s ready for another prison break.
“Ah, I see it.” He walks right over and grabs Mr. Bingley. “Hold this for me.”
I chuckle at the way he so capably takes my fluffy little beast in hand, and also the humor that flickers in his eyes. I never would’ve imagined he was like this those first few times we talked.
He opens the casement window wide and pulls a measuring tape from his back pocket, drawing the bright yellow across the sills, then tapping the lengths into his phone. In seconds, he’s done.
“Okay, I’m going to run over to the hardware store, get what we need, and if you’re okay with it, I’ll be back this afternoon to get it all fixed up.”
“I’m more than okay with it. Can I ask you, did you happen to change my tire?” I came out one morning to find the donut gone and a perfect new tire in its place. I’d been meaning to get a new one, but I’m still trying to be cautious with expenses and it fell down my list.
“No. I assumed you’d bought one. Did you not?”
His eyes narrow and I can practically see his mind on the hunt.
“I didn’t. Is there a tire fairy in the area?” I chuckle at my own joke, but when his face blanks, an idea takes root. “Wait, do you know who did it?”
He shifts, clearly attempting to avoid telling me what he knows.
“Please, Grant. I want to thank whoever did it.”
He scratches the back of his neck, then lets his arm drop. “If I had to guess, I’d say it was my dad.” He makes a face like he’s embarrassed to admit it.
I shake my head, but there’s a fond smile on my face and a bright spark of warmth in my chest. “That fits based on what I’ve experienced from him.” I’ll make a point to thank him. It’s too generous, but by now I know there’s no point in arguing with a Ryan.
“I’d offer to tell him off for you, but I’m not mad he did it. Plus, he loves dad stuff. I have no doubt this falls under that category for him. Anyone even a few years younger than him is subject to his overstepping.” He shrugs, clearly unbothered.
I suspect if I were upset, he wouldn’t be so cavalier, but I can’t be.
I release a small breath and wonder at the thought that I fall under “dad stuff” for Connor Ryan. It’s overwhelming and more than a little dreamy for some reason.
“Fair enough. After the store, why don’t you bring the girls so they can play with Mr. Bingley while you do it?
It’ll be his compensation for losing his escape hatch.
” Plus he’s been so lonely with me at work.
He’d gotten used to having me around while we traveled and got adjusted here, so I think he’d love a little extra attention, even if he grumbles about it.
“I’m sure they will lose their minds with excitement.”
He’s lost the smile, but his eyes are still that ridiculous Ryan blue, and now that I’ve seen who he is, I’m not sure I’ll ever think of him as grumpy again.
“Great. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
With one more little drop of his chin, he shuts the door behind himself. I can hear his footsteps down the stairs, then the outer garage door shut. A few minutes later, there’s chatter in the driveway as he loads the girls into the car, and they drive away.
And me? I’m standing around smiling to myself, still holding Mr. Bingley.
My phone buzzing finally snaps me out of whatever spell I’ve fallen under. “Oh my gosh, Sam, snap out of it!”
Mr. Bingley skitters away and I answer the call.
“Hey, Evie. What’s up?”
She asks if we can get coffee on her lunch break one day this week. I’m thrilled she asked, and I have Tuesday off, so that’s what I suggest.
“You sound very cheery. What’s going on in your world today?”
I can hear Charlie babbling in the background.
“Grant just came by to fix something. He’s going to bring the girls over to play with the cat while he installs it later today.” And I am looking forward to that more than I should.
My heart sinks at the thought. Am I doing what I did last time? Am I being a total fool by letting myself feel all these fluttery, excited feelings over a man I don’t actually know?
“That sounds fun.” Her tone has a little tease in it.
I sigh. “It does.”
“But?”
The couch summons me, and I heed its call, suddenly completely deflated by my own thoughts. “But I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
She waits a beat. “Because?”
“Because I’m just… I like him. Way too much.
And I can’t be doing this again, can I? I mean, did I learn nothing last time?
And I even told him—myself and him—that I wasn’t ready for anything.
So why am I sitting here practically giddy I get to see him again today?
” I cover my eyes like I might be able to shield myself from my embarrassment.
Evie’s quiet for a moment before she responds.
“I don’t know everything you went through, but this sounds very different from what you’ve described happened with your ex.”
I scowl, but I try to figure out if she’s right.
Truth is, I don’t need to think very hard.
“It is in some ways. I thought Andrew was handsome, but no part of me wanted to date him. It didn’t even occur to me until he hit on me.
And it was all so cliché, I guess, now that I’m out of it.
He wanted to ‘save’ me from my ‘tragic life’ as a maid, and I was so exhausted and worn down, I stupidly let him.
He validated the part of me that was convinced I was trash, and even when it started going bad so early, I was too scared to go—too afraid he was the only kind of person who’d want me. ”
My heart squeezes. Certainly not for what I lost in Andrew, but for ever being in a place to make that choice to begin with.
And now that I’d stood on my own for more than a year, and as I’d worked so hard to get here to Juniper View and make a life here, for the woman I was.
For the girl who’d never seen her own value even as a child, and for the brutal process by which I learned that my worth had nothing to do with my income or the label of clothes I wore or my address.
“But that’s just it. I know you haven’t been here long, but you’re not exhausted and worn down anymore, are you? You like the diner, you’re working on figuring things out, you’re talking about taking classes, you have excellent friends, if I may say, and you like it here.”
With eyes closed, I absorb her words and try to pull them close to me. “But it’s still me. I’m the common denominator.”
She makes a distressed sound. “Trust me when I tell you, I understand feeling like you don’t trust yourself.
But Sam, honey, you’ve made so many good decisions in the last year.
And I bet you, even before that, even though one bad choice hurt you.
Yes, it did, and I’m sorry you’re still dealing with those repercussions.
But what you’ve done since leaving him is extraordinary.
And since arriving here, in a matter of a few months, you’ve built a small life and folded yourself into Juniper View.
That’s amazing, and it means you have resources you didn’t have before. ”
“Yeah.” It’s watery and weak, but not without a spark of hope. There were other developments she didn’t know about, too—I’m going back to school, I’ve decided, working towards a larger goal. I had a vision for my life I’d given up a long time ago.
“Plus, Grant is a good man. I know sometimes people hide it well, but he is someone I believe is who he seems to be. Did you know anyone else who knew Andrew and who could tell you about him? Give you their take?”
With a huff, I admit, “No. My mom is the only person who met him because by then I’d fallen out with most of my friends thanks to my work schedule and the way he worked to have me all to himself and ultimately isolate me. All she saw were the dollar signs attached to him.”
“Exactly. I realize his family is biased, and I probably am, too, because he helped me in a time of need. But I also don’t think so many people would appreciate and admire him the way they do if he weren’t a decent man. Not in a town like this.”
I exhale slowly, wrapping my head around everything she’s just said. “You’re right.”
“I’m pretty sure I am, yeah.”
“I’m so glad my friends are humble,” I say on a laugh.
“And beautiful. That’s another key detail.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up, determined to stop fighting myself about this. It’s not simple, especially with my history, but it’s also okay to let this be something different.
So I putter around the house until the doorbell rings again a few hours later, determined to let this next encounter be new between me and a man I’ve decided to let myself like.