Page 17 of A Family Affair: The Plan
“You bet it is. Everybody’s got a story, don’t you think so?”
He eyed her a second too long, as though he knewshehad a story, even if she didn’t want to admit it. “I guess they do.”
A nod, a grin. “So, you and Sam… How about the two of you come here for dinner one night soon? My treat.”
“Thank you, Mr. Blacksworth, but I can’t accept your offer.”
“It’s Harry and why not? This is my restaurant and I can give away as many meals as I want. Besides, if you really want to learn about what makes this town special, you have to experience it, and Harry’s Folly is part of that experience.”
Hope wasn’t sure that was exactly true but she didn’t think she’d be able to wriggle out of the invitation. She doubted Sam had any interest in coming here with her, especially since he’d been very careful to avoid her since their night of “too much sharing”. And if they did dine together, Harry Blacksworth might think he was right… There was an attraction… There was a possibility… There was achanceshe and Sam belonged together…
“Hope?”
She darted a glance at the man people called the Godfather of Magdalena, worked up an almost smile. “Yes?”
“Enjoy dinner. The mushroom ravioli is a favorite, but I still lean toward the penne with garbanzos and spinach. Save room for dessert. I’ll let Sam know I’m expecting to hear from him this weekend.” One more long look and then, “Destiny is a tricky bugger. Sometimes you just can’t fight it.”
Hope left Harry’s Folly mulling what to do about Harry Blacksworth. When she worked on a hotel project, she studied data,visited the site, and had meetings with the decision makers. The meetings were goal driven, precise, data oriented, and while there might be talk of family, vacations,and the tenderness of the veal saltimbocca, everyone knew the comments were filler for getting the deal done. Yes, the conversations flowed with ease and apparent interest, but deep down, did anyone really care if the VP’s son got admitted to his “college of choice” or what the pregnant CEO named her baby? Did anyone follow up if the events occurred after the deal closed?
She’d thought about it a few times, had actually considered setting reminders in her calendar, but that’s as far as it got. It wasn’t that she didn’t wish these people well or hope they got what they wanted. It was just…too personal… If she started inquiring, sending congratulatory notes and gifts, then it would imply a “relationship” that might require reciprocity. What if these people wanted to know more abouther?Tell us about your family. Is there a special someone? There must be a special someone…
Boundaries were about protection and while she might share a meal or two with clients, she was not going to discuss her lifeoutsideof work. Not that there was much of one, but that washerbusiness.
But the people of Magdalena didn’t seem to understand this. In fact, they appeared to think it was their job to make Hope “feel at home” by asking all sorts of personal questions and not accepting a nonanswer. Sam had tried to warn her, but it hadn’t mattered. She and Sam were going to have to find a way to stop everyone from the questions and the presumptions…but how?
When Sam finishedat the clinic, he headed straight to the Heart Sent to find answers. Hope wasn’t in the sitting room, the dining room, or the kitchen. He even checked the outside garden area.Nope, she wasn’t there either. It was only nine fifteen and he’d spotted her car when he pulled in, so she must be here. The only place he hadn’t checked was her bedroom. Maybe he should call her…she’d given him her number and… He cursed under his breath, annoyed with his indecision, and bounded up the steps, knocked on her door before he could talk himself out of it.
“Come in.”
Sam opened the door and stepped inside. Hope sat cross-legged on the bed in shorts and a T-shirt exposing way too much skin. Why wasn’t she sitting in a chair like a normal person? His gaze landed on the low-cut T-shirt, inched to her?—
“Sam? What’s wrong?”
He yanked his gaze from the opening of her T-shirt and focused on his mission. “I hear you met my father.”
Hope closed the notebook she’d been studying—no doubt about Magdalena and the people who lived there—uncrossed her legs and eased toward the edge of the bed. “I did meet him. Nice man.”
No missing the coolness in her voice or the expression that said ticked. His ex-wife had an affinity for that toneandexpression and used them whenever she didn’t like what he did. Too bad. Hope Newland had no business butting into his personal life or those in it. “Why did you contact him and why didn’tIknow about it?”
She slid off the bed, voice shifting to ice, shoulders squared, hands fisted at her hips. “Obviously, youdidknow about it.” Pause, then a, “I might have told you, but that would mean I’d have to actually see you, right?” She didn’t wait for a response before she burned him with, “But you’ve been in hiding. I guess you shared a bit too much the other night?”
Had her voice wobbled just now? If so, was that due to anger or hurt? Maybe both? Sam had never been good at the touchy-feely part or figuring out another person’s emotions, so hewaited for her to say more, but the stone-cold stare and pinched lips said he could wait all night. Fine. She wanted to know if he’d been avoiding her? Sure, he’d tell her the truth. “I shouldn’t have shared so much.”
“I didn’t exactly plan to spit out that much personal information either, but it happened. Do I wish it hadn’t?” Those hazel eyes scorched him. “Yes, but at the time, I didn’t think about it because we were just talking, no expectations, no pretense. It felt natural, and I don’t know if that’s because I was away from everything that was familiar to me, or if it was because of you.”
Okay, he’d been wondering the same about her or tryingnotto wonder about it, which created its own set of problems. Avoidance, denial, take your pick. Of course, the woman saw through all of it, not a good place to be. “Look, I’m not looking for a relationship?—”
“And you think I am?” She moved closer, pointed a finger at him. “You think I came searching for a wounded soul who’s hiding from his life? Well, Ididn’tand I’mnot, but I’m not going to deny something happened in that kitchen the other night, even if you are.” She took another step closer, scowled. “I’m not any happier about it than you are. I don’t like being in a situation I can’t figure out, and don’t know where it’s heading.”
What to say to that? What todoabout it? Hell, if he knew, but there was something about her, and she might not realize it, or hadn’t figured it out but whatever happened in that kitchen—the sharing, the sizzle, the connection—wasgoing to happen again and it was going to escalate into something physical unless they avoided each other for the rest of her stay. Sam dragged a hand through his hair, stared at her. “Neither do I.”
He didn’t miss the frustration or the annoyance in her next words. “Like I said, I’m not used to finding myself in a situation I didn’t see coming.”
She was not going to let it go. “Look, there is nosituation.It’s not like we were having sex on the kitchen table.” Visions of Hope lying on the table, long legs wrapped around his waist burst through his brain, made him wonder for a second how?—
“Really?That’syour response?” A small huff followed by, “I waited for you the next day, anxious to continue our conversation, but you were gone. Not just gone but erased. Fine, you want to avoid me? Go ahead, but I’m not going away.”
“Is that why you contacted my father?” He crossed his arms over his chest, tried to control his breathing. “Were you trying to get to me?”
