Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle (15 page)

Sam jumped up from her seat, and Scott looked up at her, startled. “I’m—uh—I’m going to get something to eat.”

“Want me to go?”

She tried for a casual smile. “That’s okay.” The blanket fell back onto the bleacher.

Sam squeezed down the row, stepping over feet and nearly tripping over a handbag. When she reached the aisle, she jogged down the steps and onto the grass, walking the short distance to the concession stand.

She remembered the way she felt the night before, when Scott kissed her good night. His lips left a warm path running all the way to the pit of her stomach. When he touched her, she felt it everywhere. He’d cradled her cheek like she was precious.

Now he was gawking at Elizabeth.

She crossed her arms, hugging herself against the coolness of the night. Her feelings for him were real, and they left her raw and vulnerable. She wondered how smart it was to hold her heart out to him so he could throw it down and stomp on it.

Fear sucked the moisture from her mouth, and her breathing became shallow. She tore away from the line, wanting to hide until this panic passed. People were everywhere, classmates talking and laughing like they hadn’t a care in the world.

She spied a gap between the concession stand and the tall chain-link fence and darted around the corner into the shadows. The wood was hard and stable against her back. She caught her breath, closing her eyes against the night. What was wrong with her? What was she going to do?

“You okay?”

Sam gasped, her eyes popping open. Aaron Stevenson stood three feet away.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

She straightened and tried to erase the emotions that must’ve been on her face. “It’s okay.”

He put his hand on the chain-link fence, wrapping his fingers around the wires. “I saw you run back here. You okay?” he asked again.

Aaron had only spoken to her once, in the seventh grade to borrow a pencil. He was quiet for a jock but didn’t want for girlfriends. Looking at him now, she noticed he had the longest black eyelashes she’d ever seen on a boy. A contrast to his tall, masculine frame.

“I’m fine.”

He leaned against the fence, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. “Scott’s a jerk, you know.”

She looked at him, wondering why he’d say that. Everyone liked Scott.

“For staring at other girls.” He nudged her foot with his. “You deserve better.”

His words massaged her ache, releasing its knotted fist. Scott, and her feelings for him, seemed far away, and with the detachment came relief.

“You’re twice the girl Elizabeth Wittington is.” He leaned in toward her. “If you were my girl, I wouldn’t need to look anywhere else.”

His fingers ran down her cheek, leaving a warm trail. His eyes looked almost black in the shadows. He planted his other hand against the building, just above her shoulder. She wondered how he’d gotten so close.

Instead of feeling threatened, she felt liberated.
See, Sam, Scottdoesn’t have your heart. You don’t need him. You don’t need anyone.

His warm breath fanned her face. His lips closed over hers. She felt the softness of his lips on hers, the warmth of his hand on her neck. But his touch didn’t reach into the core of her, and she relished that fact.
This is how it should be, Sam. Don’t let them get tooclose. You’ll only get hurt.

Her hand settled on his waist, thoughts of Scott far away. Sam pulled him closer, confident and empowered. Aaron Stevenson wanted her. She could handle that. She could handle him.

He leaned fully against her. His hand slipped inside her jacket and up her side, his palm brushing the side of her breast.

A curse split the shadows.

Aaron jumped back, banging into the fence with a clatter.

Scott reached into the space and grabbed Aaron by the sleeve of his coat, dragging him out. Before he could take a swing, Aaron pushed him away. Scott’s fists tightened, his upper body leaning forward. He was no fool. Aaron was a head taller and a lot bulkier.

Scott turned to her then, his nostrils flaring. But she saw through the anger. She clasped her elbows and looked away. A whistle pierced the night, and the band struck up the fight song.

It seemed like an eternity before she saw Scott, in her peripheral vision, walk away. She didn’t have the nerve to go back up into the stands. Later, Landon returned her purse. Scott didn’t speak to her after that, and Aaron and the rest of the popular kids went back to ignoring her.

Now, Sam shifted on the sofa, letting her head lay against the cushion. She knew Scott had told Landon everything, but Landon never asked why she did such a foolish thing. Which was good, because she had no rational explanation for her behavior.

Sam peeked out the curtain and watched them. Scott stood with his arms crossed, and Landon looked away from him. Scott was probably warning him away from her, telling him he was too good for her. Well, as far as Sam was concerned, he could save his breath. Because no one knew that better than she did.

Eighteen

“S
orry about Scott yesterday.” Landon finished screwing the new strike plate into the shed’s doorjamb. He shut the door, and the new doorknob latched perfectly.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Sam picked up the rock they’d used to prop open the door and tossed it down to the edge of the water.

Amber was visiting today, having made up with Caden. She sat on the pier, her corn-silk copper hair whipping in the wind, but Caden had waded out beyond the end of the pier, chin deep. Only her head, covered in her fluorescent orange swim cap, was visible. Sam had warned her about undertows. “Caden, come back this way,” she called.

Landon took the key from the lock and handed it to her. “He’s my friend, and he was a jerk. I feel responsible.”

Sam sighed, remembering the way she cheated on Scott. “I was the jerk, remember?”

Landon picked up the empty doorknob container and instruction sheet, wadding it up. “Still. There must be a statute of limitations on that kind of thing.” He grinned.

She shrugged, still focused on the bay. Caden hadn’t moved an inch. “That girl.” She opened her mouth to call again, but Landon set his hand on her arm.

“Caden.” He waited until she turned toward him, then gestured for her to come in.

Without hesitation, her daughter broke into a breaststroke. Sam was grateful and annoyed at the same time.

Miss Biddle crossed the lawn, holding two glasses of lemonade. “Anyone thirsty?”

They thanked her for the drinks, speaking loudly so she could hear.

“I remember the way you two were always stopping in for my lemonade and just couldn’t help myself. Samantha, the cottage is looking spiffy.”

“Thanks.” She stared at the house with a fresh eye. “It should fetch a good price.”

Miss Biddle wiped her plump hands on the tails of her bright floral shirt. “I wish you’d reconsider and stay, dear.”

Landon’s eyes met Sam’s as if to say,
See, I’m not the only one whothinks so.

“It would be nice to have a child in the backyard again. Just like old times.” Miss Biddle fingered the large silver pendant on her necklace.

Caden had swum in, and she hoisted herself onto the pier beside Amber. Max ran down the length of it and lay beside them.

Sam took a sip of her lemonade, letting the sweet and sour blend on her tongue. The sale of the house was the ticket to Caden’s future. Sam had no other way to pay for her college, and she was going to give her daughter a better start in life than she’d had. Caden wouldn’t scrub toilets and floors for a living. If she wanted to be an anthropologist or attorney, Sam wanted to give her that opportunity.

Landon made conversation with Miss Biddle. When Sam drained the rest of her lemonade, she handed over the glass and thanked her neighbor.

“Well, I’m off to a croquet tournament. See you kids later.”

Sam hadn’t been called a kid in years and hadn’t felt like one since she was five.

“The house looks very charming, Sam,” Melanie said when she arrived to take Amber and Caden for a sleepover at her house. “When do you think it’ll be ready to list?”

“About a week, I think.” Sam glanced at Landon, but he looked away.

Caden and Amber squeezed past Melanie and out the front door, loaded down with Caden’s overnight bag and Amber’s case of sidewalk chalk.

“Caden,” Sam called.

She stopped and looked back.

“I was thinking I’d take the day off tomorrow, okay? We can go to the beach or something.”

“Cool.” Caden trotted down the porch steps.

“Have fun,” Sam called.

When they left, Sam decided it was time to tackle Emmett’s room. She shut the door that first day and hadn’t gone back in except to close the window. His was the only room not needing a coat of paint. Now that she’d sorted through the rest of the house, it was the only room left.

She opened the door and flipped on the light switch, bracing herself for the smell of cigarettes and Old Spice. Holding her breath like a silly child, she strode to the window and opened it. The evening air was warm and still. When she turned, Landon stood in the doorway watching her.

“Are you okay?”

When had she become so transparent? “I’m fine.” She brushed her hands and looked around. Where should she start? Melanie had advised her to leave the furniture until the house sold, so the bedding needed to stay. Hopefully the house would sell furnished, and she wouldn’t have to worry about the contents.

In Emmett’s room, only drawers and the closet needed to be cleaned out. She looked at the white five-panel door, then turned away.

“Let’s start with the drawers.” They could shove the clothes into bags and give them to charity.
It’ll be done and over with before Iknow it.

She pulled a bag from the cardboard container and snapped it open. The first drawer contained long white socks. She shoved them into the bag, suppressing the shudder that rose in her. Just touching his things made her long for a shower. He’d worn those white socks with everything: shorts, jeans, dress pants. White socks and those brown leather boat shoes. She hadn’t seen those lying around, but then, he’d probably been buried in them.

A drawer on the chest squawked as Landon pulled it open. She opened the next drawer and grabbed the stack of clothes, dumping them into the sack. Something in the pile caught on her fingers. She lifted her hands and saw a dainty gold chain dangling from her fingers. At the end was a locket. Her mom’s.

Her dad had given it to her one Christmas. It became like an extra limb, tucked inside her mom’s winter sweater, swinging from her neck as she leaned over the garden, lying cockeyed on her pillow first thing in the morning.

Sam never knew she hadn’t taken it with her. The oval pendant’s gold plating was faded on the side she’d worn against her skin. On the front, tiny swirls were etched into the brushed gold. Sam remembered running her little fingers over the designs when her mom held her as a child. She’d open the locket and show Sam the pictures. Sam had forgotten that until now.

She slid her stubby thumbnail into the groove and pried it open. On the left side was a picture of her around the age of eight. Her mom had updated it at some point. Sam had never seen the photo before and didn’t remember the occasion.

On the right side, where her dad’s photo used to be, a picture of Emmett stared back, mocking her. She didn’t know why she expected her dad’s picture to be there still, but the fact that it wasn’t angered her.

Her mom left the locket behind, just like she’d left Sam. Had it been so easy for her to discard them from her life?

“What’d you find?” Landon set the garbage bag on the bed and looked over her shoulder.

Sam snapped the locket shut, opened the bag, and tossed it in. “Nothing.”
I can throw things away too, Mom.
Her mouth felt like sandpaper, and where was the stinking breeze? It was like breathing in an ashtray around here.

She hauled open the next drawer and shoved clothes in the bag as fast as she could. She wasn’t stopping to look at anything else. She didn’t care anymore. It was all going out the door.

When she filled the bag, she grabbed another and continued. There were cards and junk in the bottom of some of the drawers. She gathered and tossed them without looking.

When they finished the chest, Landon carried the full bags out to the front room to give them space to work in the confined quarters. She slid the last empty drawer of the dresser shut and moved on to the nightstand on her mom’s old side of the bed. With any luck, it would be empty.

Landon knelt on the other side of the bed and opened the nightstand drawer. “There’s a lot of junk in here. Do you want to go through it?”

Sam opened the top drawer and sighed. Emmett hadn’t bothered to get rid of her mom’s things. On top of the pile was an old copy of
Ladies’ Home Journal
with Nancy Reagan on the cover. “Just pitch everything.”

She snatched a fresh bag and started grabbing things. The magazine, an old Harlequin novel, its pages yellowed by time.
Don’t look,Sam; just throw it all away.