Pas de Deux: Part Two (A Cross and Pointe Novel Book 2) (8 page)

“Have a good one, ma'am,” he called, looking over her shoulder. Sammi followed his gaze, seeing Carmela smiling at them from behind the barista counter. He squeezed Sammi's hand, then jogged toward his truck.

Sammi turned around and walked toward Carmela as she leaned against the counter with her arms folded. She was still smiling.

“Ma.” Sammi tried not to grin. “Please.”

“I like that boy. So sweet. Such a gentleman. So good-looking, too.”

“He is. All of those things.”

“Your father likes him, too.” Carmela wrapped an arm around her as they walked back to the kitchen. “Don't let him fool you.”

“I do like him,” Joe insisted. “But if he fucks up, he's still a dead man.
Capisce
?”

Later that evening, Sammi relaxed on the sofa, Rocky curled up at her side, watching a marathon of
Friends
. After work at the café, she'd gone to the rec center to rehearse for a couple of hours, and after grabbing some takeout, had come home and crashed.

Her cell phone jingled and she reached for it.

CILLIAN:
Hope you're still in one piece...?

SAMMI:
Touch and go there for a while. What are you up to?

CILLIAN:
Taking a little break from sparring. Matthews came down to the gym and demanded a rematch from last time. He's a sore loser.

SAMMI:
I'll be sure to bring that up next time I see him.

CILLIAN:
And make me get my ass kicked again? No thanks. Anyway...I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, even though I gotta share you with my family.

SAMMI:
You miss me. I understand.

CILLIAN:
You don't miss me?

Sammi sent a picture of an emoji sticking out its tongue.

CILLIAN:
Saving face, I get it. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I'm NOT thinking of you, and I DON'T miss you, and I CAN wait to see you.

SAMMI:
Back at you. What time should I be ready?

CILLIAN:
I'll be there at 3.

SAMMI:
I'll be ready...have a good night, you.

CILLIAN:
Sweet dreams.

At a quarter to three the next day, Sammi pulled open the door just as Cillian lifted his fist to knock. His brows lifted with mild surprise.

“Clearly, you weren't expecting me,” he said.

“I know by now that you're early for everything.” Sammi leaned up on tiptoe for a kiss. “Which, you've gotta knock that off.”

“To be early is to be on time. Besides, don't women hate it when men are late?”

“Key word being
late.
”

She grinned widely at Cillian, surprising herself with the surge of happiness she felt at the sight of him, and he answered with a wide, slow smile of his own. His gaze swept over her, an approving gleam in his eye.

“Well, doesn't look like you were too rushed, beautiful.”

She'd spent most of the morning fretting over what to wear before finally settling on cream wool shorts, a ruffled pink top, and a navy blazer. Flats and a touch of gold jewelry completed the outfit. Her hair and makeup were fuss-free—a ponytail, a swipe of mascara, a hint of bronzer, and some lip gloss.

“Thanks.”
I will never get tired of him calling me that.
“And back atcha. You look great—did you get a haircut?”

Her eyes drank in the sight of him, from his tidied hair—longish on top, buzzed close on the sides—and his slightly heavier-than-five-o'clock shadow. She loved the way he looked clean-shaven, but the dusting of scruff mixed with his tattoos on display beneath a casual T-shirt gave him a dangerous edge that released a net of butterflies in her stomach. Neatly pressed jeans and fresh white sneakers topped off his look, and he was so casually gorgeous she couldn't help staring.

“Thanks. And, yeah. Was starting to get outside Army regs.” He swiped a lazy hand over the top of his head, then reached out for her, pulling her close and kissing her firmly on the lips. “Needed another one. I missed you.”

“Thought you said last night you didn't.” Sammi was slightly out of breath and dizzy, her arms still around him.

“Guess I'm a liar.” He kissed her again. “Ready?”

“Almost.” She turned and hurried into the kitchen to retrieve the cardboard box from her counter.

“What's that?”

“Cookies. Ma insisted. She said, 'If you're gonna abandon your mother for Sunday dinner, the least you could do is not show up empty-handed like an ungrateful animal.'“

He chuckled. “I'll be sure to thank your mom next time I see her.”

The day was cheerfully bright and warmer than it had been for days, and Sammi tilted her face toward the sun, letting her eyes shut. More cool and wet weather was headed their way, but nothing could dampen her high, bright spirits.

“Perfect day. And I usually prefer the rain.” She slid into the truck, and even the leather seats were warm against the backs of her legs. Cillian shut her door for her and walked around the vehicle to his own side.

“Yeah.” He sighed as he settled in behind the wheel. “I suppose so.”

Sammi didn't miss his melancholic tone. “What's the matter? You sound so...sad.”

He shrugged. “Nah. I'm fine.”

Sammi reached for his hand. “You can talk to me, Cillian.”

Cillian cleared his throat and offered her a half-smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes. “I'm all right. Don't worry, okay?” He lifted her hand to his lips.

Yeah, right.

She wanted to press, to make him talk, but the tactful part of her made her bite her tongue.
Don't push. That never works with you, so why would it work with anyone else?

“Okay.” She leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek. “I'm here...whenever you're ready.”

He rested his cheek against the top of her head for just a moment, then patted her knee. “Better get going.”

The thirty-minute drive to Belmont felt better; he was still quieter than usual, but his smile didn't look forced anymore. They held hands the whole time.

They arrived at a pretty, sprawling ranch-style home, with trimmed hedges and meticulously babied flowers. He knocked on the front door, and a petite woman with dark auburn hair and big, wide-set blue eyes opened the door.

“Hey, you,” she said to Cillian, giving him a hug.

“Hey, baby sis.” Cillian reached for Sammi's hand. “Sammi, this is my little sister, Melody. Mel, this is Sammi.”

Melody smiled. “Hi,” she said warmly. “It's really nice to meet you. I've heard so many wonderful things about you.” She held out her hand.

Sammi took it and gave it a shake, returning her smile. “It's nice to meet you too,” she replied. “Thanks for having me.”

“Of course! Come on in here.”

She led them inside and through a short hallway that opened to a spacious living room; beyond that, Sammi could see the kitchen, and the opened back door where she could hear lots of little kid-laughter.

“By the way,” Melody added, turning to look at Sammi over her shoulder, “my daughter is already obsessed with you. She found out you're a ballerina so, be prepared to answer a million questions and look at everything she owns that's ballet-related. She's been in lessons for a couple years now.”

Sammi smiled and nudged Cillian. “You never told me your niece was into ballet.” She looked at Melody. “By the way, my mother baked these cookies for your family.” She held out the box.

“Oh, thank you! Killy told me your family owns a bakery. They smell amazing.”

Melody led them into the kitchen, where an older woman stood at the counter, stirring something in a bowl. She had the same dark auburn hair as Melody, hers glinting with silver, and she had Cillian's smoky pewter eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled.

Cillian slid an arm around her. “Hey, Ma.”

“My favorite boy.” She kissed his cheek. “Now, introduce me to this young lady immediately, son.”

“Ma, this is Samantha Carnevale. Sammi, this is my mom, Esther Ronan.”

Cillian's mother extended her hand with a smile, and Sammi hurried to take it. “Samantha Carnevale. What a pretty name.”

“Thank you. And, please, call me Sammi.” She offered a shy smile in return, immediately won over by Esther's magnetic warmth.

“It's so lovely to meet you, finally. Welcome.” She patted Sammi's shoulder. “Can I get you anything to drink, Sammi? There's iced tea, lemonade, soda.”

“I'd love some lemonade.”

“Cillian, it's in the fridge—make yourself useful. Murphy and the kids are all out back. Let me show you out, dear.”

Sammi glanced over her shoulder as Cillian pulled two tall glasses from the cupboard. He smirked at her, but there was something soft behind it; his eyes lit up at the way his mother gently took her arm, as if she'd known Sammi forever.

A tall, stout man in a Red Sox shirt, jeans, and sneakers captained the grill, a spatula in one hand and a beer in the other. His face was lined, but his bright blue eyes were so youthful, his hair a vibrant dark mahogany, that his age was hard to guess.

“Murphy,” Esther called to him. “Come meet Killy's girlfriend. This is Sammi Carnevale.”

Girlfriend.

He hadn't actually called her that yet. In fact, it was a subject neither of them had broached. The thought of having that conversation made her nervous. But hearing it from his mother's mouth was...indescribably nice. A warm little tingle blossomed across her skin and her stomach did a tiny cartwheel at the thought of belonging to Cillian in that way.

Murphy Ronan looked up from the grill and smiled, taking a few steps across the patio to shake her hand. “Well, hello, there. Very nice to meet you, young lady. Heard a lot about you.”

“It's really nice to meet you too, Mr. Ronan.”

“Call me Murphy. And that lazy bum is Max.” Murphy gestured toward a rocking sofa against the side of a house where a golden retriever snoozed. The dog blinked and lifted his head at the sound of his name, wagging his tail.

“Hi, Max.” Sammi reached out to stroke the dog's head. He panted a happy doggy smile, his tail thumping against the cushion.

“He's a little tired from chasing those two around.” Murphy nodded to the yard where a little boy and a little girl were playing on a small jungle gym set that looked about as old as Sammi was. “Those are Mel's kids, Jenny and Christopher.”

Cillian and Melody joined them on the patio, and Cillian handed Sammi a tall glass of lemonade.

“Don't believe anything they told you about me,” he said to her, smiling at his father.

“Oh, I told her the good lies, son. Don't worry.”

Sammi laughed and took a sip of lemonade. She almost spat it out in the next instant when an ear-splitting shriek met her ears.

“
Uncle Killy!
”

The two children in the yard rushed toward him and he managed to scoop them both up into his arms. Sammi couldn't help grinning, but the warm flush on her skin intensified.

Something about a sexy guy with two adorable little kids in his arms...

“Hey, you two.” Cillian kissed them each on the cheek in turn before setting them down and ruffling the little boy's hair. “You been good for your mom?”

“Yes,” Jenny said.

“No,” Christopher said.

Cillian gestured toward Sammi. “This is my friend, Sammi. Can you guys say hi?”

“Hi.” Both the children ducked their heads shyly, but kept glancing up at her from beneath their lashes.

“Hey.” Sammi smiled at them. “Let's see. You're Jenny.” She pointed at Christopher. “And you're Christopher.” She pointed at Jenny. “Right?”

“No!” They both giggled.

“Aren't you the ballerina?” Jenny demanded.

“Used to be. I heard you're the ballerina around here.”

“Ballerinas are icky,” Christopher announced.

“Chris,” Melody said. “That wasn't very nice.”

“I like karate.” Christopher went on as if his mother hadn't said anything. “Hai-yah!” He pretended to karate chop Cillian's knee, and Cillian pretended to make it buckle.

“You better run,” he growled at his nephew, and the little boy ran screaming into the yard, his uncle and Max hot on his heels.