Second Chance (Cold Springs Series Book 1) (9 page)

“Oh.”  Sam jumped behind the wheel.  Cautiously, she slid to the passenger side, ever mindful of her skirt wanting to catch on the interior fabric and slide up. Ian’s gaze was on her legs, she noticed, as heat rose to her cheeks. His expression was focused, dangerous, hot as hell. She quickly slid over to the passenger seat and he got in beside her. 

He turned the ignition.  Nothing.

“C’mon,” he muttered under his breath and tried again.  Nothing.  “Dammit!”

He got out, popped the hood and did something underneath.  He jumped in, turned the key, and the engine roared to life.

“We could have taken my car.”  Sam should have offered to begin with.  It had been her idea to come, after all.

“My truck not good enough for you?”

“No, I—” His sarcasm both shocked and hurt her, and she had nothing to say.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, no it’s not.  I’m sorry.”  He gave a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

The ride to Buster’s was long and silent.  Sam tried to make small talk first about weather then about his work, but she was only met with short, clipped responses so she gave up and went silent.

When they pulled into the dirt parking lot, she was surprised to see that it hadn’t changed in years.  Just a hole in the wall with a bar, occasional live music by some local band, and a limited menu with burgers and fries.

The place was packed.  Getting out of the truck, Sam immediately recognized faces she hadn’t seen in years.  The same insecurities of a teenager came back tenfold.  Around these people, she still felt like the same nerd.  What else had she expected? 

Sam suddenly hated herself.  She’d come here just to prove something to herself, and that was pathetic.  A level even the teenage Sam would never have stooped to.

“Maybe we should go.” 

Ian’s expression was concerned.  “You feeling okay?”

“Fine, but maybe this was a mistake.  I was never the popular one—”

“Samantha Stone!”

Sam turned to see Cara Thompson.  Cara hadn’t changed a bit.  She’d been the head cheerleader, still had the perfect curves, and was dressed in tight jeans and a casual sweater.

Sam pulled her shawl tightly around herself.  Man, was she overdressed!

“Hi, Cara.  How are you?”

Cara caught her in an embrace.  “Stone, right?  I mean
was
Stone. You’re probably married now.”

“Still Stone.”  Sam hugged her back.

Cara stepped back.  “Oh, I’m so sorry.  You never married?”

“It’s quite all right.”  Sam shook her head.  She knew Cara hadn’t meant anything by her comment, yet it still stung.  High school in Cold Springs, probably in any small town for that matter, had a way of staying with you.  “Cara, you must remember Ian Woods.”

Cara smiled, nodded slightly.  She took a step back. “Well, I better get inside.  Good seeing you, Sam.”

Odd.  And awkward.  She turned to Ian.  He didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned.  “Wanna go in?”

“If you do.”

He touched the small of her back. 

It happened so suddenly Sam wondered if she’d imagined it.  However, his touch lingered there just a few seconds longer, verifying that it was not her imagination. A small act but something so intimate she felt as if he’d taken ownership of her.  Strangely not an unpleasant feeling.

They climbed the three wooden steps that led inside the bar.  Classic rock blared, making everyone shout their conversations.  Sam had never been comfortable in crowds, or in bars, or around loud music, and she cautiously shrunk back against Ian.  His body was lean and hard and somehow comforted her. 

All too soon, Ian disappeared toward the bar and came back with two sodas.  “I didn’t get you diet because you don’t need it.”  He grinned.

“Thank you.” Sam smiled.  She remembered him looking at her can of diet soda the night they’d shared pizza.  The fact that he remembered was impressive.  She doubted Ian had ever remembered anything about her back in high school.

Various people came up and started conversations with her.  Sarah Parker spoke to her for a good half hour.  Sam briefly told her about her life in New York City and about opening the diner.  She’d brought a few flyers she’d made for the new business and passed those out to everyone who spoke to her.  Ian stayed at the bar, not really saying anything to anyone.

Strange, the captain of the football team should be talking to everyone.  Nerd girl shouldn’t be more outgoing than Ian Woods. But she was and it was weird.  He sat at the bar gripping his drink, clearly uncomfortable.  Ian was no longer popular in this town, and from the looks people were giving him, he certainly wasn’t wanted here.

Sam approached him.  His smile was slow, gentle, and it seemed grateful for her presence.  She felt a connection grow between them just then.  It was unexpected and surprising, and Sam didn’t know what to make of it.  “I’m ready to call it a night. How about you?”

“Are you sure?”

“Most definitely.”

They started to leave when two men blocked their path.  The first one was huge, rock solid like a bull in a china shop.  “Well, if it isn’t book girl and the jock turned murderer.”

It was Frank Rogers.  Star football player.  He and Ian had been inseparable in school. 

“You into ex-cons, Sam?” Brad Smith looked her up and down, his gaze landing on her breasts. 

Frank nudged Ian with the neck of his beer bottle.  “You didn’t tell her, Woods?”

Ian took Sam’s hand and without speaking, pushed by them, all the while pulling Sam with him. 

Frank was quick on their heels. 

“I never knew you were so into trash, nerd girl.”

Sam would have stopped, but Ian kept pulling her. 

This wasn’t high school anymore, but of course a small town like this bred immaturity, especially from people who never had the guts to leave.

Why did she even think coming here would be a good idea?

Ian had already made his way to the truck.  “Get in.”  He nearly shoved her inside. 

The engine growled to life on the first try, and they didn’t say a word to each other the entire way home.  She couldn’t help but wonder what it was like for him to be on the other end of the popularity spectrum, to start life in the perfect clique of people and then in the blink of an eye have friends and family hate you.  Sam had often felt misunderstood by many but never despised. 

He pulled into his secluded driveway, threw the truck in park and slammed the wheel with both fists, making her jump. 

“I’m sorry.” He gave a long sigh.  “Do you want to come in for a drink?”

Sam hadn’t expected this.  She knew she should refuse, but she was curious.  She wondered where he lived.  Well, she knew where, but she had no idea how he lived.  Neat freak or slob?  Cat or dog? Pictures of children? 

She had no idea if he had children.  

“Have you ever had kids?”

“Excuse me?”

“I asked you if you have any children.”

“None that I’m aware of.”

Sam didn’t know why she felt relieved.  Children were something Sam never considered in her life.  Perhaps someday, should she meet the right person, but someday seemed so far off, so why even think about it?  Besides, she was always too busy.  Now she was busier than ever before.

So he had no baggage.  Well…unless you counted prison.

Sam saw a light on in the ranch-style house on the property and could make out the form of Burt slumped over in one of the reclining chairs with a book open across his chest and the television playing across from him.

“I live out here.”  Ian pulled his keys from the ignition and hopped out. 

A flight of stairs led to the second story of the garage.  There was a small wooden deck in the front which wrapped around the side.  Flower boxes had been constructed along the top railing and contained bright orange marigolds, still untouched by frost. 

Sam followed him to the side of the garage and up the stairs to the little apartment above.  Ian slid a key in the door and switched on the light.  He held the door for her to enter first.  “Burt rents the place to me pretty cheap. I figure I’ll rent from him at least until I get back on my feet then find a real place so Burt can rent this out to someone who will pay him more.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t allow you to pay more if you wanted to,” Sam said, knowing how highly Burt regarded Ian. 

“I tried, believe me, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”

“I can imagine.”

Sam glanced around the place.  It was a simple, one-room apartment with a door leading off to a small bathroom.  His furniture was sparse, some looking secondhand and nothing matching, but it was cozy and comfortable, just the same. 

Ian grabbed two sodas from the refrigerator and handed one to her. 

“Thanks.”

Gesturing toward the sofa, he sat down.  Sam sat at the other end.  A kitten immediately greeted her by walking across her lap and settling in.  He was the same orange color as Chance.  “I see you couldn’t resist either.”

“Burt feeds every stray in the neighborhood then wonders why he’s overrun with kittens.”

The kitten batted her hands.  Sam smiled, the stress of the evening gradually fading.  Silence slowly filled the room.  The evening was exceptionally warm for fall.  Ian had left the door open, and frogs from the nearby pond sung in the distance.  It was nice and lulling, definitely relaxing and something she needed after the shambles that the night turned out to be.

“I supposed you heard everything about my past tonight.”

She was surprised to hear him talk about it.  “It’s none of my business.”

He took a long swig of soda.  He hadn’t drunk alcohol.  Some people never drank for various reasons, but Sam couldn’t help but wonder if Ian had a problem with it.  “No, I think I should tell you. You gave me a chance hiring me after your mother warned you about me.  Not many people would have done that, and I appreciate it.”

“I needed cheap labor.”  She tried to make light of the situation, but Ian wasn’t laughing.

“Still, you didn’t have to do it.”

He was silent for a long while.  Maybe he had changed his mind about telling her.  It didn’t matter. Ian had his demons.  Sam surmised he had a lot of them, and it simply was what it was, but it was definitely not her business.  She didn’t feel in danger around him, and as long as he was not a threat, what was in his past didn’t matter.

“You know I have a sister, Roxanne.”  He finally spoke.

Sam recalled a dark-haired girl from school.  “She’s younger than you.”

Ian nodded.  “By three years.”

“Mike, her boyfriend, beat her pretty bad.  Knocked her up, even hit her while she was pregnant.  She lost the kid but got pregnant again. She had this one, a little boy.  They call him Theodore…Teddy.   God, he’ll be a teenager pretty soon.” 

“You haven’t gone to see him?”

Ian glanced at Sam.  Blue eyes full of uncertainty.  That uncertainty made him suddenly appear younger and vulnerable.  Gone was the arrogant confidence of years past. 

He shook his head.  “I’d be the last person Roxy would want to see.  Anyway, I had gone over to Roxy’s place.  She was living with Mike in a trailer park.  A real dump, but what else could you expect from that scumbag?  I was in the back room at the time.  Mike didn’t know I was there.  He was drunk again and started in on my sister, beating on her.  Mike started shoving her around, and I came out and hit him.  I’d listened to Roxy brag this guy up for over six years.  I’d seen the bruises, seen the way she’d lie to our parents about how she got them.  It was ridiculous.”