Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
RYKER
Sam went with Lana to make dinner. Apparently, Gramps had finished prepping everything already before he’d tripped, so it would be quick. At least that’s what they told me when I tried to help.
They pushed me back into the living room, telling me to keep Gramps and Junior company while they had sibling time.
Sam whispered to me that Lana just wanted him alone to grill him, but he didn’t seem worried about it and smirked as he returned to the kitchen.
I thought things would be awkward with just Gramps and me alone—oh, and Junior, too. But it wasn’t like he could contribute much to the conversation.
“You want to hold him?” Gramps suddenly said from beside me on the couch.
Junior was currently on his hands and knees, rocking back and forth, but not really moving.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t have much experience with kids,” I replied.
The only baby I’d been around was my brother, and as a baby, he used to cry every time he saw me. I always thought it was my big frame that scared him.
“You’ll be fine,” Gramps said, slapping my arm. He then hoisted himself off the couch with a groan.
“Careful,” I said, half standing, too, in case he tripped again.
Gramps waved me off, then straightened and gestured for me to follow. “You might as well put those big arms to good use and pick him up since I can’t right now.”
I did as he said and carefully lifted Junior by the armpits and placed him against my chest. I didn’t think this was going to be a good idea. I half thought Junior would start wailing as soon as I picked him up, especially since I was practically a stranger and so much bigger than the people he was used to.
To my surprise, he didn’t. Junior let out a happy babble. It was an infectious sound, which caused me to smile, too, even through the pain of him trying to tug at my facial hair. I’d kept my beard short, so Junior didn’t have much to grasp onto, but that didn’t stop him from trying.
“He likes you,” Gramps commented with a harumph that sounded like it was tinted with jealousy. “See how miserable my state is now?”
I smiled and bounced Junior in my arms as he continued to wave his short little arms in front of my face.
“You’re not as bad with kids as you think,” Gramps said with a genuine smile this time. He returned to the couch, and I followed him with Junior.
We stayed like that, me holding Junior and gently playing with him. Meanwhile, Gramps sang his great-grandson’s praises, saying how smart he was and how he could roll over when he was three months old when the average baby rolled over at four. He was sure Junior would be walking and talking in no time, too.
I didn’t know if babies could understand while still this young, but Junior laughed and giggled louder each time his great-grandpa praised him.
This was how Sam and Lana found us: Junior bouncing happily in my arms as Gramps continued his monologue of lauds.
When I met Sam’s eyes, they were sparkling like marbles under the sunlight. I was drawn in and didn’t even register that I was moving until I was standing right in front of him.
Sam came closer and gestured for my ear, so I leaned down to hear him whisper, “If I had ovaries, I would have gotten pregnant just from how sexy the sight of you holding a baby is.”
I knew my face was beet red when I pulled back, almost choking on the shock he’d just delivered. Sam merely laughed and took Junior from me to hand to his sister for his meal.
We helped Gramps into the kitchen for dinner. I followed Sam when he went to grab the utensils. Peeking back to see Gramps and Lana focused on feeding Junior, I whispered, “What you said back there…what did you mean?”
Sam grabbed some forks and raised an eyebrow at me. “What did you think I meant?”
“That you like seeing me with kids…maybe you’d want to see me with some of our own one day,” I said, barely choking out the words.
Sam smiled a soft thing, then replied. “You and me and our kids running around…I’d like that.”
I always thought I’d have kids by now, that it was the natural progress of my life, but with one failed relationship after another, the idea of kids seemed fleeting.
Then, when these feelings for Sam started developing into something real, I thought kids might never be in the cards for me, and that was okay.
Now here Sam was, telling me he wanted to have kids with me. Didn’t this also mean that Sam saw me in his future? That he wanted to be with me, too.
He hadn’t replied to my embarrassing confession from last week yet, and this was one hell of an answer if I said so myself. I was so happy I didn’t know how to form words.
Sam laughed when he saw my expression and planted a quick peck on my lips right there in the kitchen, in front of his family.
I spent the rest of dinner trying not to blush every time I met gazes with Sam’s family. Sam peeked at me with knowing eyes, his hand skimming my leg under the table every so often to work me up. Based on the grin he flashed every time he saw me shiver, I knew the action had been intentional, too.
After dinner, I helped Sam clean up while Lana and Gramps changed Junior’s diaper.
“Do you like teasing me?” I grumbled as I took the last clean dish from Sam to dry.
He bumped my hip, turned off the faucet, then pulled me toward him. “I do. I think you’re extra cute when you blush”—he moved his mouth close to my ear—“in and out of the bedroom.”
His hot breath and words had my ears burning by the time he pulled back. Sam took one look at me and chuckled. He stole a kiss before bouncing away with a skip in his step.
“I’ll go check on the others while you cool down,” Sam said, casting me a mischievous glance over his shoulder.
I watched him disappear into the hallway, then finally sucked in a deep lungful of air to dispel the heat that Sam was causing to rise. I had to keep telling myself I would not get a boner in his gramps’ house.
If Sam was serious about seeing me in his future, then that meant I was going to be around a lot more often, and it would be nice if his family didn’t see me as the weirdo hanging out in their kitchen with an erection.
When I finally got my emotions under control, I followed the laughing voices down the hall to a closed door. Before I could knock, a loud yell came from inside that had me bursting through to find Sam on the ground with a broken chair under him.
My mind was blank as I rushed toward him and helped him up. “Sam, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” I frantically asked as I went around him in circles to examine every single inch of him to make sure the wood hadn’t accidentally stabbed him somewhere.
“I’m fine. More shocked than anything,” he said, rubbing his butt.
“Did you bruise yourself there?” I asked and took over rubbing the area for him. “Does it still hurt?”
Sam didn’t reply. In fact, it seemed the entire room went silent save for Junior’s giggling. I glanced around and saw that Gramps and Lana were both watching us, and Lana looked like she was holding back a laugh.
I turned back to Sam to ask him why they were looking at us like that, and it was only then that I realized where my hand was.
On Sam’s ass. Where I was currently full-on rubbing Sam’s butt right in front of his family.
My hand jerked back so fast it created a small gust of wind in the room.
So much for them not thinking I was a weirdo.
I tried to hide the offending hand behind my back and away from view, which only made Sam break the silence by laughing. He snatched the hand I tried to hide, pressed a kiss to it, and then twined our fingers together.
“I’m really okay, honey,” he replied. The twinkle was bright in his eyes. The term of endearment was used to trick Annabelle, and even though we’d now claimed it as ours, it didn’t stop the little flutter in my chest every time he called me that.
“But the rocking chair…I just sat on it and it…” Sam said, sadness filling his voice as he glanced between his gramps and the broken chair. “I’m so sorry, Gramps.”
The damage wasn’t too bad. The core of the chair wasn’t compromised, and neither was the beautiful carving on the backrest. It appeared one of the rolling legs had given out, but the other leg miraculously stayed intact even after the fall.
“The old thing was bound to break at some point. Just glad you’re okay, kiddo,” Gramps said. He slowly stood to inspect the damage. “I have some wood in the workshop that might match it. I’m sure it can be fixed.”
He then made to pick up the chair, but we quickly stopped him.
“Gramps, you know you can’t do any heavy lifting with that back of yours,” Lana chastised as she helped Gramps stand straight.
“Curse this dang old back,” Gramps muttered. He didn’t seem angry or sad, but there was a hint of desperation in his eyes as he gazed at the fallen chair.
Sam caught my questioning look and whispered to me, “Gramps made that rocking chair for my gran when they had my dad.”
A flash of realization shot through me. The Monroe family history wasn’t a secret to the town—secrets weren’t really a thing around these parts. I was fully aware of how Gramps had lost his wife, then his son and daughter-in-law one after another. I couldn’t imagine how strong of a man he was to have to live through that, and now to see a memory of his family broken…
“You said there’s a woodworking shed in the back? Maybe I can fix it?” I offered, stepping up to pick up the rocking chair.
The thing was hefty, and I was even more glad now that they managed to stop Gramps from trying to lift it, lest he injured his back even more.
Sam led me to the shed while Gramps and Lana, who was holding her son, followed.
The shed wasn’t huge, but it was filled to the brim with all sorts of wood and woodworking tools. Dust was gathering in some areas, which told me the place hadn’t been used recently.
“Do you know what you’re doing, boy? Have you ever worked with wood before?” Gramps asked.
He looked at me skeptically, and then the expression turned into concern as he looked at the chair I’d placed on the worktable.
His worry was understandable since this was such an important memory for him.
“I’m not a pro, but I took shop in high school and helped build my friend’s furniture. You can instruct me, too, and I’ll be your hands. I’ll work on it only if it’s okay with you.”
He chewed his bottom lip, his bushy mustache twitching with his concern. Finally, he turned his gaze back to me and said, “I trust you. Take care of her, will ya?”
I nodded, solemnly. “I promise to make her as good as new.”
The first thing I needed to do was carefully remove the broken parts. Taking a closer look at the chair, I could see the love Gramps had put into making it.
The entire chair was sanded until it was buttery smooth, not to mention the intricate carvings on the backrest, legs, and armrests. It wasn’t just a functional piece, but an artwork that displayed the love he had for his family.
While I finished getting the chair ready for repair, Lana returned inside with the baby while Sam helped Gramps find wood with a similar coloring to the original.
After measuring and discussing how to proceed with the repair, we got straight into sawing, hoping to finish it before it got too late that the noise would disturb the baby’s sleep.
Sam left during the sawing since Gramps only had two pairs of safety equipment, but he returned once we finished, bringing a chair with him for Gramps to sit in.
Gramps was stubborn, but when I insisted he could still order me around from his seat, he finally conceded and sighed into the chair. It was clear he was pushing himself, which only made me that much more meticulous with my work.
Sam didn’t stay the entire time and went between the house and the shed. When I’d prepped all the wood pieces I needed and moved on to carving the replacement leg to match the other, Sam returned with drinks in hand.
“Thanks for doing this,” Sam whispered to me when he handed me the drink.
He popped a chaste kiss on my cheek before pulling back to the sound of his gramps’ voice.
“No hanky-panky in the shed,” Gramps grumbled, then took a sip of his drink.
Sam only giggled and ran out of the shed again. My cheeks heated, and I took a sip of the drink to try to hide it. I wasn’t surprised when Gramps’ sweet aloe juice hit my tongue. Knowing him, he probably made a batch of the stuff every week to keep their house stocked full of aloe goodness.
“Not bad,” Gramps said, coming up beside me to watch my movements. “Your technique could use some work, but you got the basics down. Here, if you hold the chisel like this, it’ll glide easier.”
He took the tool from my hand and showed me the proper grip. I copied his movements and found that he was right. The new grip didn’t need as much force either.
Gramps nodded. “You have talent. Are you working on any projects?”
I glanced at the door to make sure Sam hadn’t returned to check up on us before saying, “I was actually thinking about making something for Sam’s birthday. I still have to talk to my friend about using his woodworking shed.”
Though now that Deke had moved in with Jones, it was getting a lot harder to visit him. Deke had always been possessive of Jones’ time.
It would probably be faster to ask Jordan to use his workspace, but I hadn’t seen him since he’d returned from his trip.
“Come here and make it. Might as well put all this wood to good use,” Gramps said.
“It’s fine. I don’t want to be a bother,” I tried to protest but was shut up with a stern look.
“If you’re making something for my grandson, then I better supervise and make sure you don’t fuck up.”
And that was the end of that conversation. I smiled as I continued carving under his direction. His words were harsh, but hidden beneath them was his care.
Sam was very different from his Gramps, but it was easy to see how they were related. They were both affectionate in their own way and always put their family first.
It was hard not to fall in love with their family…and with Sam.