For the Longest Time (21 page)

It was said innocently enough, but when he spoke something in her hardened, cocooning protectively around her secret. The art she created was one of the most personal things she could share, and so far, what she'd done here was raw emotion. Maybe that was to be expected, a
cathartic release after months of nothing. But the fact was that Jake, and her feelings about him, were all wrapped up in what she was creating. She couldn't bare that to him. Not yet. Not when she still worried that he might look between her and someone who fit more cleanly into the life he'd built here, and walk away.

She'd removed much of the armor she'd worn. But not all. Not yet. And the fact that he was hedging about yesterday told her that it wasn't safe to cast off the rest just yet. There was enough of her exposed as it was.

“She would,” Sam said. “I just told her what I told you. I'm not painting right now. Maybe someday. We'll see.”

She reached up to stroke Loki's head and scratch absently behind his ears, enjoying his ridiculously loud purr. “Anyway . . .”

“There they are! Good morning, Jake,” said Andi as she hurried toward the carrier. She'd braided her hair again and wrapped it into a bun, though wavy pieces of hair were already escaping. Her long, bright blue sweater matched her eyes. She looked damn good for her age, Sam thought as she watched her, whether she was in full-on hippie mode or going for relatively normal, like today. Her mom still had curves in the right places without having collected any in the wrong ones. All she could do was hope she'd inherited those genes. It was weird that she never dated. Then again, maybe she did and was sneaky about it. Then
again
, this was Harvest Cove. Sam tried to imagine who her mother might hook up with, shuddered at the possibilities, and put it out of her mind.

“Hey,” Andi said, giving Jake a look as she extracted her kitten from the cage. “I said one, not
all
. I would, Jake, but I think two is enough. Loki and Peaches will keep us busy.”

“No, Mom, I—Peaches?” Sam wrinkled her nose. “You're naming her Peaches? Like the song? Billions of peaches, peaches for me . . .”

“Like the color she has in her fur,” her mother replied, happily stroking her kitten. “You named yours after a supervillain in a stupid hat. It's not like you can talk.”

Sam narrowed her eyes, but Jake stepped in. “Actually, I brought them because Sam has some nefarious plan involving your other daughter. I didn't get the details.” He smirked. “Plausible deniability.”

Andi's eyebrows shot up. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” Sam said, picking up the carrier. She tried to lift Loki from her shoulder, but he hung on stubbornly and meowed. Bemused, she left him there, feeling a little like some sort of twisted pirate. She lugged the carrier to the bottom of the stairs, then turned to look back at Jake and her mother. For just a moment, she was struck by how right they looked there, just sitting in her mother's kitchen enjoying coffee, waiting for her. Because they were hers.

She pushed it aside quickly. Getting attached to the idea of some cozy little vignette of life with Jake was a bad idea. It was too soon. But even as she forced her mind back to the present, she couldn't shake the warmth the picture had left her with. Or the feeling that even now, she was in way too deep.

“If you hear shouting, just ignore it,” she told them, putting away her fears for now. Then she grinned and headed up the stairs.

H
e had no idea how she managed it, but by the time he left, he was down another kitten. It was especially mysterious because the one thing he very clearly heard from upstairs was Emma's desolate wail of “No!”

Still, when Sam had waltzed back down the stairs with Loki draped over her shoulder like an eccentric accessory, the carrier was just a little lighter, and her grin was mercenary.

“What did you do to your sister, Samantha Jane Henry?” Andi had asked, and it had taken all the willpower he had to keep from laughing. Especially considering the disgruntled look Sam had given her. With her hair piled on top of her head that way and the silly pajama pants, she looked messy and adorable, much as she had when she'd rolled out of his bed yesterday morning. But this was more than just sex appeal. There was a sweetness and a playfulness to Sam that she tended not to let the outside world see.

Here, though, she was in her element. This was as relaxed as he'd seen her. In pajamas with her family and sporting a kitten seemed to be her ideal state, a far cry from the edgy, black-clad artist she played outside the confines of this house. This part of her was one he'd only
had glimpses of years ago. Now it was the one he wished she'd let everyone see. Whether she did or not, though, he had no interest in hiding away the fact that they were together.

If yesterday was any indication, he had some work to do before some of his friends even acknowledged that he was dating anyone. Until she was right in front of them, Sam was just an idea. But he wanted to make her a part of his reality. All of it.

As he walked to the door, Jake could feel his stress levels rising back to where they'd been when he'd woken up. At least he'd had a break for a little while. It surprised him how easy it was, fitting into the rhythm of the Henrys' big house, drinking coffee in the huge but surprisingly cozy kitchen and watching Sam and Andi's affectionate verbal fencing. He hated to go, but Sam had work, and he needed to drop the last two kittens at home and let Tucker out for a bit before heading back to the hospital. It was a comfort knowing Greg was right there by his mom's side, but he needed to be there, too. She'd always been the anchor, the rock, in his family. The thought that anything could hurt her was an ugly shock to the system.

Emma emerged from the far reaches of the house just as he was getting ready to go. This time, she was dressed, long brown hair back in a ponytail. She was in jeans and a sweatshirt, and her feet were bare. It was more casual than he'd ever seen her around town, and she didn't look particularly pleased about the fact that he was seeing her now.

It seemed like both she and Sam wore their own sorts of armor in public. This was their territory, though. And from the look on Emma's face, he was an invader. The
only thing soft-looking about her was the little brown tabby in her arms. She'd picked the only medium-haired kitten of the bunch, a lazy little bundle of fur that already liked belly rubs . . . unlike Loki, who seemed to regard a hand anywhere near that part of his body as a declaration of war.

“This is all your fault,” she said by way of greeting.

“Nice to see you too, Emma,” he replied. “It wasn't my idea. I was just transportation.”

“I don't need a cat,” she replied, rubbing little circles on the kitten's back while he lolled in her arms. “I'm busy.”

Jake shrugged. “Then I can take him back. The tech who took one of the others has a friend who's interested. I think they'll all have homes by next week.”

Emma pressed her lips together and glared at him. Her eyes were very big, and a brilliant blue. He'd never actually noticed before. She was usually moving too fast to get a look, and he'd always considered her slightly terrifying besides. He knew she'd built Occasions by Emma into quite an operation, but she seemed like the sort of person who had an unhealthy attachment to spreadsheets. He never knew what to do with people like that.

Since Emma had ignored him for years, that had never really been an issue until now.

“Yeah, give the kitty back, Em,” Sam teased her, prodding her sister with her foot. “Go ahead. Hand him back. Say good-bye.”

Emma turned her glare on her sister, though he noticed it wasn't quite as harsh as the look she'd given him. “You suck,” she said. “This wasn't part of the deal. I came for popcorn and movies, not to get a bunch of kittens dumped on my head first thing in the morning.”

“You were already awake,” Sam replied. “And your house needs something fun in it.”

“Even if I agreed with you—which I don't—there are lots of things that fit into that category that aren't
alive
.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “So give him back. Even though he climbed right under the covers with you. And would love to warm your cold, cold bed.”

Emma made a disgusted noise, then returned her gaze to Jake. “When do I bring him in for more whatever-he-needs?”

“A couple of weeks,” Jake said, biting back his grin.

“Fine.”

“You're going to want to watch him. He's a little food fixated, and he's the biggest in the litter anyway.”

“Maybe I'll take him to the gym. I hear they have a new trainer,” Emma said, her voice deceptively light. It was a solid punch in the gut, though. And those pretty blue eyes were as cold as ice. Sam may have forgiven him for what had gone on years ago—at least, he hoped she was heading in that direction—but Emma, it seemed, hadn't. That was a warning shot. She knew about Cici, who'd been excitedly chattering about her new job at the gym yesterday. And Sam, who merely rolled her eyes, obviously didn't. But he bet she would after he left.

Shit
. Why hadn't he just told her?

Because he didn't want her to worry. Because he didn't want the fallout.

Because he didn't know what the hell to say that would make Sam feel any better about it. For better or worse, Cici was part of his old circle of friends. She'd come back and picked up where she'd left off. Avoiding her would be impossible.

And, yeah, it might have been better if he'd just said
that instead of ducking the issue, but all he'd wanted this morning was a respite from yesterday's stress. So much for that.

“Just some toys would work,” he finally said.

“Uh-huh. I'm sure I'll manage. We'll see you.” Her smile was cool as she turned away, bumping her sister's hip on the way by as she tossed Sam an insult that was a lot more affectionate than the good-bye he'd just been given.

“Butthead,” Emma said.

“Takes one to know one,” Sam replied. Then she turned her attention to Jake as Emma headed back into the recesses of the house along with Andi, who offered a friendly smile and wave. Then it was just the two of them at the door. Well, three. He wasn't sure Loki was ever going to get down.

“So,” he said.

“So,” she replied, and he was reminded of the first night he'd picked her up here. Most of the awkwardness had gone, but he still couldn't shake the impression that she was holding him at a distance. The barriers between them had vanished in bed, but here and now, he could see that a few had gone back up. They were smaller, maybe, and fewer in number, but he could feel her tension. Alone, she still didn't know quite what to do with him.

Lucky for her he had plenty of ideas. Enough for them both.

“Did you want to get together later?” he asked. “After work, I mean.”

“I promised Zoe I'd go over to her place for a while,” Sam replied. “Something about chocolate and tea. And bonding. She was pretty adamant.” When she smiled, he
could see it in her eyes. She was settling in here, he realized. But in her own way. One that didn't, so far, appear to include many of the things and people who had lived here when she was growing up in the Cove.

They'd existed in very different worlds back then. It was going to happen again, he suddenly realized, if he didn't start trying to bridge the gap.

“I can come by afterward,” Sam said, looking at him closely. He must have had an odd expression on his face. It wouldn't surprise him. The thought had been fleeting, but powerful—that instead of coming together again, the two of them would find that their lives didn't mesh and drift apart. He would see her around town occasionally, a flash of black, maybe a smile. But not often. She would still be walking a path outside of his comfort zone, here but not in a way he could touch.

At its heart, it would be just like before.

“Are you okay?” she asked, frowning.

“Yeah, just tired. Sorry,” Jake replied. He reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, silk through his fingers. “After would be great.” Loki swatted at his hand as he traced his fingers down her cheek, and she laughed.

“Bad kitty.”

“Hey, I got you here,” he informed the kitten, who glared back at him. This one was always going to be a one person cat, probably either disdainful of or ornery toward everyone else. He'd picked his person, and Jake could go pound salt.

“I'll leave him home,” Sam said. “Promise.”

“Good, because I'd really like to touch you without bleeding out.”

She laughed, and it pushed him to ask her something
he'd tabled for a few days, hoping for the right time. It was a strange twist of fate, that now he'd be the one concerned that Sam would refuse to go somewhere with him, but he supposed it was karmic justice.

“There's a Halloween party next weekend. Just the usual costume thing at the Tavern, but everybody goes. I wanted to ask if maybe you'd want to come with me.”

He saw the hesitation immediately, and knew this was exactly the kind of situation she'd had no intention of putting herself in when she'd come back to Harvest Cove. Silently, he willed her to say yes.

“I don't know, Jake. I don't have a costume or anything. . . .”

“Sam, you could probably throw together something amazing in about five minutes. It's going to be all pirate hookers and guys dressed as pregnant nuns anyway.”

“You're going to be a pregnant nun?” she asked, eyeing him.

“Not if you come with me,” he replied. “I really want you to meet everybody, Sam.”

“We've met.”

“Not the right way. It's fun, Sam. I think you might be surprised.” He moved closer, keeping a wary eye on the kitten and his suddenly twitchy tail. “Please?”

He saw her struggle with it, and he saw the moment she relented. He released a breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding. It mattered that she'd give this a shot for him. And he'd do everything he could to make sure she enjoyed herself, replacing ugly memories with good ones.

“I guess. All right.” She took a deep breath, exhaled, and then nodded. “I'll figure out some kind of costume. Just . . . what you heard about me punching Thea? That
was true. And I haven't actually seen her since then, so don't expect too much, Jake.”

Hell, he'd forgotten about that. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” he asked.

Sam pressed her lips together, looked into the distance while she thought. Finally, she said, “It was about you. Well, me and you. Beyond that it doesn't much matter. I know I was quiet and weird, but even I had my limits, and she crossed them that day. Not that punching someone in the face is ever a very good answer, but I wasn't great at snappy comebacks.”

“You weren't weird.”

She tilted her chin down and lifted her eyebrows. “Are you kidding? Don't insult me, Jake. I purposely cultivated the weird.”

“Well,” he replied, “you were beautiful under the weird.”

“Hmm,” was all she said, and he saw the flicker of hurt in her expression. It was an old hurt, and one that apparently ran deep. She was never going to forget that he'd thrown her stubborn individuality in her face when he'd walked away. So he would just have to keep showing her that he hadn't meant it. That it was one of the most attractive things about her.

On impulse, Jake braved Loki's claws and leaned down to press his mouth to Sam's—a gentle brush of lips, then a longer, lingering kiss, melting into each other. His hand came up to cup her jaw, angling her head so that he could tease her, taste her. He could feel her body rise, and felt his heart quickening in response. They had this, he thought. This need for each other. That it had remained so long, after ten years apart, had to mean something.

And so did the fact that already, the thought of being without her was accompanied by a vague but increasing sense of panic. Maybe because before, women had come and gone, and he'd never had to worry about how one fit into his life. Usually, they worked until they didn't, and it hadn't bothered him. He hadn't been looking for more.

Sam was a puzzle piece with edges that would give the most dedicated puzzle hobbyist fits. He thought some perverse part of her might even like it that way. She seemed to be managing to wedge herself into a spot anyway, but would she stay? He had no idea.

He didn't know what it was like not to fit. All he knew was that she seemed to fit with him.

Jake pulled back, stroking her cheek and enjoying the pink flush, the hazy look in her eyes.

“Give me a ring at the house when you're coming,” he said. “I'll have food. Real food. Okay?”

Sam nodded. Then she surprised him by lifting up on her tiptoes and pressing another, fleeting kiss to his lips. There was a look in her eyes he couldn't decipher, a flash of determination or desperation or something in between. He didn't know why. All he could do was appreciate that whatever her thoughts were, he seemed to be heavily involved.

He thought again of yesterday, and of how it seemed like all the old patterns were trying to reassert themselves. Cici had stuck to his side without invitation, and the others acted as though it was a given that the two of them would function as a pair. Darts? He hadn't even had a chance to pick a partner. Seating? Thea had cleared out so that Cici could assume the spot beside him. The worst of it was, he'd hardly noticed at first. She was the same old Cici, flirty and chatty and as beautiful as ever,
and it had felt perfectly familiar that she was there. But after an hour or so, he'd begun to notice the little things—her hand on his shoulder felt off, the way she leaned in close to talk to him that had him pulling back. The approving smirks between the others.