Read By Proxy Online

Authors: Katy Regnery

Tags: #Romance, #Adult

By Proxy (14 page)

BOOK: By Proxy
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The lady of the moment returned with their sandwiches and asked if she could bring them anything else. Four sets of eyes turned to Nils, but he stammered out that they had everything they needed.

“Thanks, Mags,” said Jenny and grinned at her. The way Maggie smiled back at Jenny, Sam got the feeling the two women were pretty good friends.

Erik pushed the salt and pepper to the center of the table. “Salt, pepper, Sam?”

“Sam’s had enough pepper for today.” Jenny looked at Sam beside her and winked.

Erik nodded in understanding. “Allergic?”

Sam smiled and felt Jenny’s shoulders shaking with mirth beside him. “Something like that.”
Man, she sure could hold her own with four men. She was something different.
“My ex-girlfriend’s name was Pepper.”

Erik nodded again, but furrowed his brows in the Lindstrom family trademark way. “Pepper’s a condiment.”

Already giddy, Jenny lost it then, choking on her sandwich from laughing so hard. Sam clapped her on the back until she stopped coughing, but she had tears spilling down her face by the time she stopped laughing, and three sets of sympathetic eyes regarded Sam from across the table.

“Long weekend for you, Sam,” offered Erik with feeling, gesturing toward Jenny by jerking his head and cringing. Lars and Nils nodded earnestly, clearly feeling sorry for Sam. “He broke the mold after He made Jenny.”

Yes, He did,
thought Sam, looking at her, feeling his heart fill.
Indeed He did.

Chapter 7

What a day.
Jenny flopped down on the old loveseat, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

Lars and Erik would pick up the booth pieces and assemble them on Main Street at their designated spot in front of the Tackle Shop, and Sam left Jenny at her apartment with a promise to pick her up at five that afternoon. She glanced at her watch; she had a few hours.

Her head ached from all of the developments of the day: so much to think about and process. Sam, Pepper, Paul. She turned her mind to Paul first and thought about writing him a quick e-mail to clear the air but then thought better of it. His feelings were bound to be tender, and she didn’t want to pour salt on the wound. She was still flustered by his near-declaration; Jenny had spent much of her life in the company of men, but she still didn’t understand them.

Paul had been like a brother to her for years, for as long as she had known him, comforting her after her mother’s passing, joining her family for Sunday supper more times than she could count, leading the PTA meetings that she attended faithfully. For heaven’s sake, how long had he harbored romantic feelings for her?

She pictured him in her mind. He was handsome, yes, but not her type at all.
Kissing Paul would be like kissing my brothers. Now, kissing Sam would be a different thing—

Whoa, Jenny!
Her eyes flew opened as she halted her thoughts mid-stream.
Where did that come from?
Kissing
Sam? That is
not
something that should be on your mind.

She walked into her bedroom, determined to distract herself from such bold ideas. She wanted to find something to wear to the Stroll, but rummaging through her closet, she couldn’t banish the fantasy of Sam’s mouth lightly touching hers, feather soft, searching. Her pulse sped up and she gave up the fight, sitting on her bed, touching her lips softly with her fingers, succumbing to the dream in her head. What would it feel like?

The boy she had kissed in college was eager but impatient. He had pressed his lips to hers gently several times on their third and fourth dates, which felt exciting and interesting. Suddenly, on their fifth date, out of nowhere, he had shoved his tongue between her lips and snatched one of her breasts in an aggressive way that had frightened her. She had pushed him away roughly and when he moved in to touch her again, she had placed her hands firmly on his shoulders and brought her knee up sharply to his groin with a swift, incapacitating thrust. He had fallen to the floor, clutching at his man-parts, cursing her every which way from last Sunday.

That had been quite enough for Jenny. She was only too glad not to pursue another romance and had kept men at a careful distance ever since.

Yet here was Sam. Sam, who cheerfully stayed the weekend in Gardiner and treated her so gently, so teasing and merry. Forgiving of her impetuous fit of pique this morning and assuring her he wasn’t committed to anyone. Hadn’t she done the same when she found him moping on the bench by the football field? Assured him she had no interest in Paul. Assured him she was free.

The heart wants what the heart wants.
Beyond common sense. Beyond higher reason. Beyond all material and emotional considerations that should make the heart give up its longing. The heart still wants what the heart wants, in spite of everything and in spite of the distance between Chicago and Gardiner. In miles, in opportunity, in lifestyle, in every area of life that Jenny could imagine, in spite of everything, Jenny’s heart wanted Sam.

***

Jenny was ready.

Sam said he needed a “date” for the Stroll and that’s exactly what Jenny intended to deliver. Not a companion or a tour guide, but a date. She decided to leave her regular jeans and boots at home and took out her black velvet jeans, a luxury she had purchased once at the mall in Great Falls and barely ever had the chance to wear. She paired these pants with a cream silk blouse she had worn on her job interviews three years ago and a cream-colored angora cardigan sweater with tiny cubic zirconia buttons, another purchase from her Great Falls days. She dug through her closet until she found a pair of black velvet ballet flats she had purchased to wear with the pants. Dusty from years of neglect, she swatted them against each other until the dust settled elsewhere. She knew they were a silly choice for cold, possibly icy, streets. But the sidewalks should be clear and anyway…it was one night. She wanted it to be special.

In her modest jewelry box she found her mother’s crystal earbobs, her father’s twenty-fifth anniversary gift to her mother, and decided to wear them. She had never worn them before, but the crystal in the earrings would catch the crystal in the sweater. It was Christmastime, after all. Why not sparkle a little?

She laid her clothes out on her bed, smiling at them with anticipation and took a long, hot shower. She washed and blow-dried her hair until it was straight and shiny, then she searched her bathroom vanity for her tiny make-up case. Once she had blown off at least two years of dust from the zipper, she opened it up and applied a bit of mascara, a hint of eye shadow, and some pale pink lip-gloss. She put on her clothes, brushed her hair and added the earrings last. Then she looked in the mirror.

She beamed.

The jeans had always looked good, but she had lost a few pounds between the years she spent in college and the years she lived in Gardiner, so the waist fit perfectly now. The cream of the blouse and sweater matched her hair, and she was right about the crystals—the buttons on the sweater caught her eye, and she followed them all the way up to her ears.

Her reflection was a revelation. She still looked like herself, only better, sleeker, more sophisticated. She could definitely pass for a girl from Great Falls tonight, if not somewhere even more cosmopolitan. She blushed at her conceited thoughts and remembered Pepper in her gowns and designer labels.

No need for a swollen head, Jen. You look good. Good, and that’s it.

She was holding Casey at the kitchen table when he knocked on the door. Her tummy leapt, and she couldn’t stop the spreading smile on her face. She put Casey back in her playpen and took one last look at her face in the hallway mirror before she answered the door.

He had his hands braced on the doorframe looking down when she opened the door and he looked up slowly, from her little shoes, to her velvet pants, to her soft cream sweater. His eyes lingered on her body and Jenny stood frozen, waiting. She swallowed nervously and bit the inside of her lower lip, waiting for his eyes to meet hers. And then they did.

Surprise on Sam’s face was nothing new to Jenny. She’d even seen admiration before now, but this expression was entirely different. Inexperience notwithstanding, she knew instinctively the first thing she saw was
want.
Focused. Carnal. Want.

He swallowed, his body tense and almost completely motionless except for his eyes, which lowered again in languid approval from her eyes to her toes. She kept her body still as her heart pounded mercilessly in her chest. His breath exited his lungs until they were empty and the end sound was ragged, labored. As he breathed in deeply, he raised his eyes again and his gaze shifted then, tenderness phasing out want. He searched her face, and she recognized hope dawn in his softening eyes, vulnerable and unguarded. His lips, closed only lightly, yielding, finally turned up in a slight, impish smile, which suddenly made him seem very much himself again—the Sam she recognized.

Watching these feelings play out on his face, Jenny’s smile got wider, and she cocked her head to the side. When he smiled at her, an awesome joy exploded like fireworks in her head. She started laughing softly with satisfaction and pleasure.

I’ve never felt like this before in all my life.

“Hi,” she offered shyly, still smiling and chuckling gently.

“I can’t speak.”

“You just did,” she teased, flicking her own eyes up and down to check him out, too.

Was it effortless for him to look as good as he did?

Casually handsome, he was what Jenny would special order if she wanted her heart to skip a beat and her throat to go dry with wanting. He still had on his jeans from earlier, but he had swapped out his flannel shirt and sweatshirt for the crisp white shirt he had been wearing with his suit yesterday, and he belted his jeans with a black belt. His black coat was long and sleek, and she knew it would be soft if she ran her fingers over the sleeve or along the collar; soft, and maybe warm from his skin. She noticed the pulse in his neck, beating like a beacon.

Warm, for sure.

Her eyes fluttered at the direction of her thoughts and she felt her hand move from her side to reach out and touch him, but quickly redirected it to push her hair behind her ear, wondering if he could see the awareness she felt in her eyes.

Sam cleared his throat, staring at her, watching her face carefully with a quiet intensity. “I’ve never seen anything as pretty as you.”

A flush of heat colored her cheeks, and she looked down, overwhelmed by such flattery. She looked up at Sam, feeling unsure and exposed. “Even in the big city?”

“Nowhere. Never.” He put his hands down from where they had been braced on either side of the door and took a step gingerly toward her. She backed up so he could come in but felt suddenly nervous to be alone in her apartment with him. The attraction between them was like a tight guitar string attached from his heart to hers; it was as though someone had just plucked it, and it hummed and vibrated between them like a current, like something alive. It was too much, too intimate, something irrevocable and life-changing at her heels.

“I have to get my bag. Give me a sec.” She turned and headed for her room, shutting the door quietly behind her and sitting on her bed to collect herself for a moment.

His reaction was everything she had hoped for and from the look on his face, she was sure he was falling for her as hard as she was falling for him. The comfort in knowing her longing for him was mutual wasn’t exactly comfortable. It frightened her, too. This wasn’t a man who lived in Gardiner, to whom she could willingly and safely give her heart. While Sam might be
technically
available, the differences in their lives also made him
unavailable,
and if she wanted to protect her heart, she needed to remember that.

Be careful, Jenny. You’re playing with fire here. Be careful of your heart.

She crossed her arms and wished she could talk to her mother. Ask her how she knew she was falling in love with Pappa. How it made her feel and if she was frightened and unsure and excited all at once. She closed her eyes, breathing in, and opened them, breathing out.

Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er velsignet
.

Like an answer to her prayer, she heard her mother’s loving voice in her head.
You make a memory tonight, Jenny-girl. Be sure it’s a memory you want to keep.


Ja, Mamma
,” she whispered, holding herself tightly and smiling.

She went into her bathroom and washed her hands, the cold water a good jolt back to reality. She looked at her face in the mirror.

For now. Not forever.

***

He hadn’t moved since she left the room.

He was trying to breathe normally.

He was trying to assuage the effect she had on his body
before
she came back.

He was trying to remember he was leaving on Monday.

He was losing the first two battles. His pulse was so fast and his blood was rushing so hard to one specific place, he was feeling light-headed. Finally sitting down on the little loveseat, he put his head between his knees. He concentrated on slowing down his heart, breathing in then out. In, then out. His head started to clear, and he felt other areas of his body relaxing too, thank God. He sat back, shaking his head, at a loss.

The women he knew in Chicago spent thousands of dollars a year on their hair and make-up and wore cutting-edge fashion, but he was telling the truth when he said he’d never seen anything as pretty as her. Just as he had expected a chubby Brunhilde at the Courthouse, tonight he had expected the same Jenny from today in her old jeans and beat-up boots. The most he had hoped for was that she might leave her hair down especially for an evening out. The Jenny that had materialized at her apartment door was a revelation. She was a stunner, a knockout, a beauty in any context, in any city, in any town, anywhere.

And she offered this gift to him.

BOOK: By Proxy
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