Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
RYKER
Sam and I slept in his new bed later that night since my sheets had been dirtied from my work clothes and boots. So even though his damn bed had arrived, it wasn’t all that bad, since the only change in our morning routine was doing it from his room instead of mine.
I still couldn’t believe we’d fooled around last night. What started off as me trying to prove a point, something that was supposed to be entirely fake, led to me losing the last of my restraints with Sam.
At least there was no doubt we’d done what we set out to do and proved to Annabelle that there was nothing wrong with either of our bodily functions.
Neither Sam nor I spoke about what had transpired that night, but it seemed my random outburst had gotten to him somehow.
Despite his bed having already arrived, we ended up sleeping in the same bed this past week.
I was loving having him back in my bed, so I wasn’t going to question it, but I did want to ask him what it was that was happening between us. I wanted to know if he felt the same sizzle I did when I cuddled him in the mornings when he pretended to be asleep.
Had he pretended to be asleep because he craved the morning hugs as much as I had?
I wished I could talk to him about this, but instead, we talked about everything and anything besides this gigantic elephant in the room.
I couldn’t complain much. I loved my random conversations with Sam sitting on the couch with Gray loafing between us.
Sam would tell me about the cute thing his nephew did that day, the weird new aloe creation his gramps made him try, or the new client he’d signed.
He told me how his best friend, Jay, had been his very first client, and from word of mouth, more people had wanted to work with him.
I thought it was remarkable he was able to create a business all on his own. He claimed a lot of it was due to Jay’s help—and I knew he truly believed that ’cause I’d learned that’s just the kind of person Sam was. He never took anyone in his life for granted and saw the hard work they put in. I wished he could see how hardworking he was himself.
But that was another thing I learned about him. He never liked talking about himself much. The little tidbits I’d learned about him had to be pulled from him: his favorite color was yellow ’cause yellow was the color of love to him. It represented the love his grandparents had, the love his gramps always showered them with, and the faint memories of his parents always bathing him in affection. He’d told me those memories were often outside. The faces of his parents were foggy, covered by the strong yellow sun, but they were always smiling.
I could listen to Sam talk about the little details of his life all day, though he never let the conversation go too long without asking something about me.
I liked how he didn’t get impatient when it took me a second or two to gather my thoughts to answer the question properly. Or how he never got angry when I just didn’t want to talk and would rather listen to him instead. He’d give me that smile of his, the one where one side of his mouth curls up so sweetly, then change the topic to something else.
With each passing day of living with him, I could feel myself liking him even more until I couldn’t ignore the fact that I was possibly falling in love with the man.
It was terrifying. That I could like someone so much in such a short time, never mind the fact that I still hadn’t the faintest clue about how he felt about me.
I knew he found me attractive to some degree, and there was obvious chemistry between us, proven by that singular, blissful night.
If I stopped being a coward and told him how much I’d like a repeat, would he agree?
The thing was, I didn’t just want him to agree. I selfishly wanted him to want me, too, even if it was just a fraction of the need I felt for him.
If only I knew how to charm his pants off. Now that was a funny thought. I imagined Sam’s pants magically disappearing into thin air whenever he was horny for me. Things would be so much easier since I wouldn’t have to second guess the social cues or overthink if he was into me as much as I was into him. The disappearing pants would do all the talking.
“What?”
Sam’s voice had the image of him laying naked on my bed replaced with the real him, who was sitting—entirely clothed—beside me on the couch. He was slowly stroking Gray from back to butt, and the little attention whore was soaking it all up and voicing his pleasure with his loud purrs.
“Ryker?” Sam prompted, making me realize I was glaring at my cat.
I had to flick my gaze away so I’d stop wishing I was in Gray’s place right now.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about something silly,” I replied. I could already feel my cheeks heating. I very well couldn’t tell him I was imagining him naked, then wishing he’d stroke me like he was doing my cat.
Sam mhm ’ed but didn’t comment further. That teasing little smile stretched his lips, attracting my attention.
I wondered what his lips tasted like. I deeply regretted not kissing him that night, but having a jerk off with another man was on a completely different level than kissing. Kissing felt more intimate , and I wanted our first kiss to mean something more than just being caught up in the moment.
It would be intentional. There wouldn’t be a single question of a doubt that I wanted him, and if my little heart got its way, show me that Sam wanted me, too.
Sam opened his mouth, and I realized I was staring again. My ears burned knowing how obvious I was being, but subtlety had never been my strong suit.
Sam closed his mouth, nibbled his bottom lip, and then opened it again to speak. Before he could, his phone rang with his gramps’ ringtone. It was ‘ My Girl ’ by The Temptations, singing about sunshine and May. Apparently, Russell Monroe often had that song playing in the house when Sam was younger.
“Hey, Gramps,” Sam greeted, immediately lighting up with a smile as he answered his phone.
There was no doubt how much he loved his family.
Sam and his gramps chatted for a few minutes, and I liked how he didn’t leave the couch. He stayed sitting beside me, eyes shifting between the TV and me like I was a part of this moment with his gramps.
I couldn’t give a fuck what was playing on the TV. My eyes were glued to Sam as I took in every single one of his smiles and laughs. Which was why I immediately stopped at the minuscule stiffening of his shoulders as his smile dropped.
I sat up, ready to do something, anything , to help him. Sam locked gazes with mine. His marble eyes were cloudy and more gray than anything right now.
He continued nodding as his gramps spoke, probably not even realizing he was doing it. Finally, he said, “Okay, I’ll talk to him. Bye.”
I sat stiffly as I waited for him to speak.
“He knows,” Sam said quietly and with a sloop of his shoulders. “He was chatting with his neighbor, Auntie Mae.”
I winced. I haven’t had many interactions with Mae, but even I knew she was the biggest gossip in town.
“Yeah,” Sam said with a dejected sigh. “I wish I’d told him sooner so that he’d heard it from me instead of the gossip mill, but…”
I didn’t even think about it when I grabbed his hand. Gray, seeing that I’d reached over him, lifted his ass for pets, but I firmly ignored him. He got enough loving already. Sam needed my entire focus now.
“What do you need from me?” I asked.
Sam looked at me, then at my hand, like the action was foreign to him. I fought the awkwardness I was feeling and kept his hand clasped in mine. I knew it was the right thing to do when Sam flipped his palm to face mine and twined our fingers together.
“Gramps wants us—both of us—to go over for dinner tonight. Said it was only right he meet his future grandson-in-law,” Sam said.
He kept a steady eye on my face—watching for my reaction, perhaps?
“Okay,” I said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I still have some cookie ingredients leftover for a batch.”
“You don’t have to make anything,” he said, squeezing back. The action was soft and tickled something inside of me.
“’Course I do. If word got back to my mama, she’d have my ass for being a terrible guest,” I said with a smirk. My mother had made sure to drill manners into me, plus, I wanted to make a good impression on Sam’s gramps.
Sam chuckled, then added, “Fine, but I’m helping you.”
I had absolutely no problem with that and nodded. We made our way to our tiny kitchen, hands clasped, and Gray meowing angrily behind us for abandoning him on the couch.
This wasn’t the first time we’d cooked together. Most nights Sam would have dinner at his Gramps’, but at least twice a week, he came home early.
I liked to think he purposely came home early to eat with me, but I was too chicken to ask. Instead, I enjoyed our moments together.
I learned Sam wasn’t the most creative cook. He was great at following a recipe or directions but got overwhelmed when it was just ingredients lying in front of him.
So, most of the meal planning landed on my shoulders. I didn’t mind, since I’d gotten used to cooking for myself. Plus, I liked that, in a roundabout way, I was looking out for him, the way he had looked out for me all those years ago in school. Sam was always helping those around him, and it gave me a tiny thrill knowing that with me, he could be the one being taken care of.
We worked together to quickly bake up a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Sam whipped through the kitchen, grabbing the tools and ingredients I needed. I didn’t miss the way he’d casually bump his hip with mine or the almost too-natural way his fingers lingered on my hand when he handed me the measuring cup.
When it was time to add the chocolate chips to the cookie batter, Sam volunteered to mix the concoction together. I watched as he focused. His pink tongue peeked through the corner of his lips so cutely in concentration.
By the time the batter was mixed and we’d scooped them into teaspoon-sized balls onto the baking tray, Sam had somehow gotten cookie dough batter on his cheek.
I chuckled to myself, took a step closer, and used my thumb to wipe it off for him. Sam looked up at me, eyes sparkling as he watched me slowly lick the cookie dough from my thumb.
I swore the air inside the kitchen sizzled as our eyes locked on each other. Neither of us moved, and I could see the hitch of Sam’s breath as his eyes moved from mine to my lips.
I wanted to kiss him. Hell, I’d do much more than a simple kiss if he’d let me.
Sam cleared his throat, his voice husky when he broke contact and said, “The cookies.”
I made a noise, indicating I heard him. My mouth was too dry to speak as I loaded the cookie trays into the already-preheated oven.
The heat of the oven couldn’t hold a candle to the fire Sam had lit under my skin.
Lana, Russell, and Junior were already waiting for us by the time we arrived.
The first thing Sam did when he saw his nephew was to pick the baby up and smother him with hugs and affection. I heard him whisper “unckie” to the baby, and by the way Lana rolled her eyes, I feared Sam’s plan of manipulating Junior’s first word hadn’t gone unnoticed by his sister.
“Thank you for having me over, sir. Sam and I made some cookies,” I greeted Russell senior and held out the plastic-wrapped plate for him.
Russell accepted the plate, giving both it and me a hard stare before giving me a grunt.
We made our way to the kitchen and the table that was set off into the corner. It wasn’t a large table, just big enough to fit the four of us, so they had settled the already-prepared food on the counters for us to grab.
As soon as everyone had made a plate for themselves, and Junior was happily sitting in his highchair beside Lana, babbling about one thing or another, Russell turned to me.
“So, you’re the man supposedly engaged to my grandson,” he stated, looking me up and down like he was assessing me.
“Gramps, stop glaring at him like that. I know Lana already filled you in on the situation,” Sam grumbled as he doused his mashed potatoes with enough gravy to make the dish more gravy than anything else.
Russell harrumphed, but his eyes still lingered on me before shifting to his grandson, then back to me.
I wondered what he saw. A conniving man his grandson had brought back and had used to trick a poor little lady? Or did those sharp eyes catch the way I glanced at Sam every few seconds? Could he see I was absolutely crushing hard on his beloved boy?
I had a feeling the hard eyes behind those bushy brows knew more than he was letting on.
We stayed for a couple more hours. Sam apologized for not telling his gramps the truth sooner and that he had to find out this way. They got to talking about the situation, and I stayed silent through most of the conversation with my side pressed against Sam’s on the couch.
The conversation moved on. Lana had brought out a well-loved rocking chair from the bedroom and held Junior as she chatted with the three of us on the couch.
“So, how’s living with this dude?” Lana asked me while nodding her head toward her brother. “Has his nonstop blabbering gotten on your nerves yet?”
“Hey, I don’t blabber! I partake in very nice, equal-opportunity conversations,” Sam muttered with a glare. Lana laughed, and the way Sam’s eyes softened told me this was a normal interaction between them.
“But seriously,” Lana said, turning back to me. “How’s having a roommate?”
“I love it,” I answered honestly, though I didn’t tell them just how much I loved living with Sam.
This wasn’t my first time having a roommate since I’d been living with Jones before the move. But with Jones, we were two people sharing a space and doing our own thing.
With Sam, he included me in his life. He’d sneak me home a dessert on the nights he had dinner with his family, and on the nights he ate with me, he’d greet me with those sparkling eyes when I got home, ready to tell me all about his day and to ask about mine.
Sam didn’t hold back any part of himself from me, and I loved that more than I could express in words.
Lana nodded, a small smile stretching her lips as she peeked at Sam, who was sitting beside me, unusually quiet for once. Gramps harrumphed again, but it didn’t sound disapproving.
After a beat, Sam laughed, kicking off the conversation again as he retold the story of how his nephew tried to steal his banana earlier today. He teased his sister about how Junior took after her gluttonous ways.
The two argued back and forth, but neither had any heat behind their words. All the while, Sam shifted on the couch. The action was almost unnoticeable with the way his body was already moving with his words, but I felt him press closer against me until we shared heat through our thighs.
My heart rate kicked up as I tried to focus on the siblings’ conversation instead of Sam’s delicious heat.
When it was time to leave, Sam went into Lana’s room with her to tuck Junior into bed. Sam’s gramps stayed out in the living room with me.
His bushy eyes followed my every movement, and I wondered if I’d somehow gotten on his bad side. His gaze was hard as I shifted under it, but then he cleared his throat, his voice a little less gruff than earlier as he said, “Take care of him, okay?”
I didn’t need to ask to know who he was asking me to take care of. I relaxed, and a wave of confidence flowed through me, knowing Sam’s gramps had trusted me enough to leave him in my care.
“I will, sir,” I replied solemnly.
Russell nodded, cleared his throat again, and then said, “Just call me ‘ Gramps. ’”
I couldn’t keep the grin off my face as I nodded. I was still grinning by the time Sam returned. He asked me why I was smiling all happily, but I shook my head, staying silent.
He watched me curiously but didn’t push as he said goodnight to his gramps and Lana. I did the same, then followed Sam to the car.
I couldn’t stop smiling in his direction as he drove us home. It felt like I’d won Sam’s gramps over, and that was big considering how much Sam valued his family.
Now all I needed to do was win Sam over, too.