Page 23 of Stay this Christmas
“You don’t have to forgive me, you don’t even have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”
He’d said I didn’t have to say anything back, but he watched me with a sort of cautious hope, as if he expected something, anyway.
“Okay.” I had nothing else. Not a single thing.
“I was an idiot at seventeen,” he said, his low voice strained, his mischievous eyes gone somber for a change. “I wouldn’t make the same mistake at twenty-eight.”
My mouth dropped open like a gulping fish, my brain twisting and tangling over that weighty remark. I tried to swallow, but my heart had lodged somewhere in my throat. He couldn’t mean what this sounded like.He couldn’t.He was Heartless Sam, Selfish Sam, Traveling the World Sam—I’d never expected him to be Apologizing Sam.I’d cast him as the bad guy for so long, I didn’t know how to deal with him rewriting his role.
And I sure didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity right now to deal with the hint he might want me back.
He opened Homegrown’s door for me. “Should we get a table or a booth?”
Choosing a table or a booth seemed like a huge decision when I no longer knew which direction was up.
I walked through the door and into the sounds of the other diners on numb legs, my heart still flickering on and off trying to restart itself, my brain on lockdown.Looking around Homegrown as if I might find the answer to all the questions crowding my mind, I spotted June’s brother, Jed, sitting alone in a booth. I sighed in relief.
U.S. Army to the rescue.
“I’m having lunch with my cousin.” I didn’t quite look Sam in the eye. Couldn’t.
His gaze moved from me to Jed and back again. I spotted the moment when his carefree persona switched back on, his smile widening without any heart to it, his head ticking down in a nod of acceptance he didn’t seem to actually feel.
But if I stood here any longer contemplating Sam’s reaction, I risked saying more to him, and right now, I didn’t have any clue what I might wind up saying. That sounded like a sure recipe for regret. Needing time to process, I left his side and clumsily barreled toward my cousin.
“Jed!” Hopefully, it came out more of a greeting and less of a cry for help. “Thanks for meeting me here.”
He looked up from his menu to see who’d called his name, clearly not expecting me. I opened my eyes wide, begging him to play along. My little ruse would either soothe my embarrassment or double it, wasn’t sure which yet.
Without missing a beat, Jed stood up and threw his arms out. “Harper! You made it!”
He wrapped me in a big hug, the wonderful man, engulfing me in flannel.
“Can I have lunch with you?” I whispered.
He pulled back, scanning over my shoulder. I could tell when he zeroed in on Sam because his whole expression seemed to go to battle stations. The usual friendliness in his eyes hardened as he assessed the situation.
“You want me to get rid of this guy?”
He sounded casual, almost joking, and yet I had every confidence he’d escort Sam outside if I asked him to. More, if it came down to it.
“No, it’s fine, but can I please sit with you?”
He waved me into the seat across from him. “I’d be honored.”
“You sweet talker.” I scooted into the booth, but stopped cold. Jedwasa sweet talker. I looked on either side of me as if I’d somehow sat on his date. “Oh, crap, you aren’t here with someone, are you?”
His easy laugh rang out, his wide mouth showing off his teeth. “Not today.”
I clasped my hands in front of me on the table, watching Jed size up Sam. He didn’t hide it, either. After twelve years in the Army, he didn’t seem to have much concern about taking Sam in a fight. Sam was in great shape, but if worst came to worst, my money would be on my cousin. Six-three, lean muscles beneath his long-sleeve shirt, dark scruff along his jaw—Jed was the epitome of fighting shape, even if now, he mostly used that to wrangle fruit boxes in his family’s orchards.
“What’s he doing?” I asked softly.
“Watching you.”
Oh, everything inside me wanted to turn and catch him at it, but I wouldn’t.
That couldn’t possibly lead to anything good.
