Shameless (28 page)

He rested a hip against the counter. “You know I’m right.”

“Okay, look. I suppose it
did
affect me a little bit. Happy?” She crossed to the sink and rinsed out the sponge.

“No.”

She turned to look at him. Guilt radiated from his eyes. “John,” she said softly, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Don’t do this to yourself,” she said, touching his forearm. “Don’t accept all the blame, okay? I made bad choices, too.” A thought dawned on her and her eyes widened. “Be honest with me about something.” His guilt-ridden expression just about broke her heart. “Did you decide to help me get pregnant because you wanted to make it up to me, because you still felt bad about that night?”

When he didn’t immediately respond, she said under her breath, “Wow.” She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and gazed off into space, wondering at the magnitude of this man’s grief and guilt over that long ago night. The effects on her had certainly been awful, but she’d gotten over them. Sure, maybe she’d held onto a trace of wariness about men because of that night, but her attitude was due more to her cheating father and ex-husband. But poor John. He’d carried the guilt all these years, and had hired someone to find her, to see how she was faring. He’d decided to become her donor father because of that guilt.
Wow, wow, wow
.

Another thought hit her. “John?” She was almost afraid to ask this, realizing she would be treading on thin ice. But she had to. She had to know. “You don’t want children because of that night. You feel you don’t deserve them, as if this is your punishment, right?”

His eyes closed and his jaw clenched. “Sam. Don’t.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You don’t have to answer. I can see it in your eyes.” She moved in front of this enigmatic man and slid her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. Her heart ached for the pain he’d gone through all these years, how he’d punished himself. How he continued to punish himself. “Stop blaming yourself,” she murmured against his shirt.

His body was tense, but slowly he relaxed.  His arms wrapped around her and he held her almost as tightly as she held him. Maybe tighter.

John reveled in the glorious comfort of her forgiveness as he held her close. If she could forgive him for that night, then maybe…
maybe
he could start forgiving himself.

It was at that precise moment he realized he was falling in love with her.

Chapter 15

Being forgiven by Sam was heavenly, but being in love with her really sucked, John thought as he lay in bed after she’d left.

He should be on Cloud Nine, on top of the world, smiling from ear to ear and all the other happy clichés that went along with being in love, but he was miserable. Sam was the perfect woman for him except for two little problems. One, she didn’t want to marry, especially to a man with two divorces under his belt, and he didn’t blame her for that. And two, she might be pregnant.

That alone was enough to make him want to sprint the other way. Although he’d sworn off marriage because of his disastrous marital history, he could actually picture Sam as his wife. The thought was more than mildly pleasant. She was vinyl and stilettos or jeans and ponytails. Sharp-tongued and bossy, or sweet and sexy. But always,
always
fascinating. This multi-faceted woman had unexpectedly and unintentionally wrapped herself around his heart and it scared him to death. Because the moment he added a child to the equation, he broke into a cold sweat and ran to the bathroom with dry heaves.

He laid awake the rest of the night with a dark shadow of foreboding over him, just as it had after he’d learned his ex-wife Kate was pregnant. His dad’s words, “an eye for an eye,” drummed through his head like a primitive chant. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be a father.

Thus, he wouldn’t have a future with Sam, unless she gave up the idea of being a mother. And that wouldn’t happen. She wanted a baby with the desperation of a thirsty man searching for water in the middle of the Sahara. It wouldn’t be fair to ask her to give up that dream. He’d never even suggest it. Because of those reasons, she’d never know he loved her. It would be his little secret.

Metal plates rattled against barbells. Dumbbells clanged. Grunts of effort and occasional laughter sounded throughout the weight room at SCHS. Aerosmith blared from the CD player in the corner, muffling any and all conversation.

At one end of the room, away from the other exercisers, Sam sat on a weight bench with Tanya. The pretty 16-year-old twirled a narrow black braid around and around her index finger, an I’m-oh-so-bored expression on her face.

Sam’s editor had been hounding her for a human interest story, so she’d thought of John and Alex’s work with these kids. She knew they needed to raise money for the youth center, and fundraising was all about publicity, so she’d convinced John to let her talk to the kids.

He’d warned her these kids might be tight-lipped. Those she’d spoken with so far had warmed up to her right away, but Tanya wasn’t being at all cooperative. Her next and last interview, Brian — the boy John was so concerned about — would probably be even worse.

She’d hoped to draw Tanya out of her shell with small talk. It hadn’t worked. She decided to cut to the chase. “Why did you join this program, Tanya?”

The girl shrugged a shoulder, let go of the braid and studied her flame-red fingernails as if they were the most interesting thing on earth. “You’re not gonna use my name, are ya?”

“The other kids don’t mind. Why do you?”

“My mom don’t know I’m in this program and I don’t want her to know.”

“I can’t imagine she’d be mad,” Sam said. “I’d think she’d be proud of you.”

Tanya raised her head and met Sam’s gaze. Her clear blue eyes were emotionless. “You don’t know my mom. Trust me. She’d be pissed.”

“Why?”

“She just would, okay?”

Sam nodded once. “Okay. How about I just use your first name?”

Tanya shrugged again. “Whatever.”

Sam hid her frustration. “Mr. Everest and Mr. Drake tell me you haven’t missed a session, but you never seem to participate. Why’s that, Tanya?”

The girl picked at her nails. Sam sighed. She’d had uncooperative interviews before, but once she’d worked them a bit, they’d always come around. She tapped her yellow pencil against her pad and glanced around the room in her frustration. She met John’s gaze from where he was assisting one of the boys. He’d been keeping close tabs on her since she arrived. Her protector. She smiled.

Tanya followed her gaze. “Are you and Mr. E an item?”

Sam turned back to the girl. “Uh, for the moment, yes.” The proverbial light bulb clicked on. Duh. Girl talk. She nudged Tanya’s knee and nodded her head in John’s direction. “He’s kind of cute, don’t you think?”

Tanya shrugged. “He’s okay for an old white dude.” Her glance drifted across the room. “Now Mr. D… he’s fine.” Her voice was dreamy.

John had filled Sam in about each of the kids. He’d mentioned his suspicion about Tanya having a crush on Alex. From the starry look in the girl’s eyes right now, Sam would say he was right. Alex was far too big and muscular for
her
taste, but she said, “Yes, he is. But you know, I have this rule about never dating a guy whose boobs are bigger than mine.”

Tanya’s eyes widened in surprise and she slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. After a moment, her eyes still sparkling with humor, she cleared her throat and said, “Um—” She picked at her nail polish. “Do you know if he has a girlfriend?”

“Alex?” Sam asked, glancing toward him. “Well, I haven’t heard that he does, but I don’t know for sure.” She turned to see a tiny grin tug on Tanya’s mouth. Sam stood. “Let’s go ask him.”

The look on the girl’s face was one of complete and utter horror and she tugged on Sam’s arm, pulling her back down. “No!”

Sam giggled. “I was just kidding. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Tanya sighed her relief, then smirked. Before long, the two were having a “deep” discussion about whether guys’ butts looked better in Levi’s or sweat pants. At a break in the conversation, Sam asked, “Speaking of guys, do you know Brian well?”

“That Brian?” Tanya pointed across the room. Sam nodded. “Not really. Why?”

“I need to talk to him next, but John — uh, Mr. Everest — told me that Brian isn’t very, um, talkative.”

“Don’t talk to no one. Won’t talk to you either I bet.”

Hmm
. John had made the same prediction. Sam glanced over to the far corner of the room where Brian exercised by himself, a surly expression on his pale face. John had described him as bottom of the bucket. It was either turn to gangs and/or drugs, or turn his life around. He sure looked mean: shaved head, tattoo on his biceps, a jagged scar on his left cheek. And that hard, don’t-mess-with-me expression surely intimidated just about everybody he came in contact with.

For some reason, she wasn’t intimidated but fascinated. She knew her interest was due in part to John’s own interest. He’d said he felt a bond to this boy because he saw his younger self in Brian. But the other reason was the challenge. Two people had now told her Brian wouldn’t talk.

A little grin pulled at the corners of her mouth. “We’ll just see about that,” she muttered to herself as she marched over to him.

John saw where she was headed and cursed under his breath. Alex grabbed his arm before he could waylay her. “Relax, John-boy,” he said under his breath. “She’ll be fine. Maybe she’ll have more luck at getting him to talk than we did. I’d certainly rather talk to her than to our ugly mugs, you know?”

John’s heart pounded a million miles an hour as he watched Sam approach Brian. She said something to him and he shrugged, not really looking at her. She sat on a nearby bench to watch him finish his repetitions of biceps curls. She tightened her ponytail, and the movement pulled the material of her T-shirt taut across her breasts. He knew it wasn’t deliberate on her part — at least he hoped it wasn’t — but it sure got Brian’s attention.

John swore under his breath. He should have told her to wear a sweater. This room was always chilly and Sam’s nipples were erect to prove it. He himself had had a hard time not staring, and
he
was an adult. These boys were at the age of hormonal frenzy — he’d caught every one of them staring at Sam’s gorgeous chest. They’d probably have wet dreams of her tonight. The thought really pissed him off.

It wasn’t her fault. She’d dressed in a Seattle Sharks T-shirt tucked into a pair of faded blue jeans torn at one knee. Simple. Understated. Normal. But it didn’t matter what she wore. She could dress from head to toe in a burlap sack and she’d still be a walking advertisement for lust. She was sex incarnate, whatever her attire.

He scowled. She picked that moment to glance up. Something passed between their eyes and smile curved her lips. His insides constricted, then turned to mush. For at least one more night, that sexy firecracker would be his. Her period was due in just a few days. And beyond that? He didn’t think about it.

Alex’s high-pitched chuckle caught John’s attention. “What?”

Alex just shook his head. “You, man. You’re a lost cause.” He punched John’s arm and walked away, still chuckling.

John frowned and glanced back at Sam. She and Brian were having some sort of discussion. The boy barely looked at her, but she was focused on him. John wished the music blasting from the CD player wasn’t so loud so he could hear what they were saying.

Sam glanced up and met his gaze again. She gave a small jerk of her head as if to tell him to mind his own business. Her lips twitched though, and he knew she wasn’t angry. He nodded at her, then looked around for something to do. Everyone was occupied. Alex spotted LaMarcus and Damian on the squat rack. Ahmad and Pete spotted each other on the bench press. Kevin used the pulldown machine. Robyn stretched in front of the mirrors. Tanya danced near the stereo, tuning everyone out as usual, and Howie and Virgil checked her out from a nearby mat. John couldn’t really blame the boys — he’d probably have found her hot when he was their age, too. With a smirk, he headed in their direction, deciding their time could be put to better use.