Shameless (35 page)

John’s hand grazed her cheek and stopped her laughter like a cork in the mouth. “This is hard on you, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.

“What?” She maneuvered away from his gentle touch, not liking how good it felt. “What are you talking about?”

He took off his sunglasses. His blue eyes were intense. “The only time you ramble on like that is when you’re angry or nervous about something. It bothers you that I have a date.”

John was too perceptive for his own good, his voice too gentle for
her
own good. She was glad for the cover her sunglasses provided because tears welled in her eyes. He reached for her glasses and plucked them from her face. Sam was mortified when a fat tear fell onto her cheek.

She swiped it away. “I’m just hormonal, John. I get emotional at the littlest thing these days.” She stepped backward. “The other day I went to Nordstrom to buy shoes. When the salesclerk told me they didn’t have my size, I started crying. Isn’t that silly? The poor woman even offered to order my size from another store. It ruined my whole afternoon.” She sniffled and rooted through her purse for a tissue. Finding one, she blew her nose. She looked up at John. “Honestly, it’s just these hormones.”

“You’re sure?” He stepped closer. He looked like he wanted to touch her. And Lord how she wanted him to touch her.

She took another step backward, away from him, nodding stiltedly, pretty sure she had her emotions back under control. But without warning, another batch of tears cascaded onto her cheeks. “God, what is wrong with me?”

John pulled her into his arms. She was aware they attracted considerable attention — a pregnant woman bawling in the arms of a gorgeous hunk. But she didn’t care. It felt so good to be held again. It felt so good to be held again by
him
. She leaned into him, his arms solid bands around her, until this silly episode passed. Finally, she giggled. “I’m sorry,” she murmured into his shirt that bore the dark stains from her tears.

The rumblings of a deep chuckle inside his chest vibrated against her ear. “Hey, what are friends for?”

Stepping out of his embrace, she reached for her package of tissue again. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Wordlessly, he handed her sunglasses over. She didn’t immediately put them on.

She stared at the ground, focusing on a crack in the pavement, watching an ant stagger across it carrying a crumb three times its size. John inadvertently crushed the insect with his left foot as he shifted position. For one ridiculous moment, Sam thought she would cry again. Over an ant.

She squinted her eyes in the bright sunlight. “Do you ever wish our situations were different, that we’d met long before I decided to get pregnant?”

The question caught John off guard. He didn’t quite know how to answer it. She spoke again before he could figure it out. “I mean, I think we might have been good together, you know?”

“Even had we met earlier, you’d still have hated me on sight and would’ve refused to go out with me. The only reason you agreed this time was because you had an ulterior motive.”

She blushed and giggled. “True. Although you’d have pestered me until I caved in.”

“True.” He chuckled. “But to answer your question — yes, I’ve wished that and yes, I think we would’ve been great together.” He paused. “I
know
we would have.”

He didn’t tell her how at times he resented that little life inside her for putting a stop to their relationship. But seeing Sam’s radiance, her obvious joy at being pregnant — besides the occasional hormonal outburst as just witnessed — erased his selfish resentment. He’d never seen her so full of life. On one hand, that made him happy, but on the other hand…

Sam sighed. “But I guess it wouldn’t have worked in the long run. Because I’ve always wanted kids and you…” She glanced away.

John didn’t deny her statement. She was right. But as if to contradict his thoughts, a vivid image of him holding Sam’s baby —
his
baby — in his arms, flooded his mind. Unlike other times he’d inadvertently conjured up this mental picture, this time he didn’t get all nervous and light-headed. The feeling he had right now was more like the warmth in your gut after downing a slug of hard liquor. Not an unpleasant feeling. Before he could begin to interpret what this might mean, she spoke again.

“I guess I just miss you, John. I’ve lost a friend. You and I shared some special times and I—”

“Sam. We had to part company. We both knew it. We… were getting too close, too emotional.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “But it’s been nearly five months. I know it would be foolish to begin a
romantic
relationship again, but…”  She met his eyes. “It’s just so good to see you, and I can’t imagine going another five months—” Her voice caught.

John couldn’t imagine it either. But could he stand to see her on a regular or somewhat regular basis knowing a platonic friendship was as far as their relationship would go? Probably not. Then again, not seeing her at all…

He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, and she closed her eyes. “Play with fire and you’re going to get burned,” he murmured, and dropped his hand.

Her eyes drifted open. “Not if we’re smart about it,” she said. “I’m not saying we see each other every day or anything, or even every week — that would be too hard.” She glanced away a moment and cleared her throat. “But we’re adults. I think we can handle it, don’t you?”

No, he thought. “Sure,” he said.

Sam put on her sunglasses. “If we feel like seeing each other, we should see each other.”

But he felt like seeing her every day. Every night. But he didn’t think that’s what she had in mind, he thought. “You’re right,” he said.

“Our offices are so close. It would be easy for us to meet for coffee or something every now and then.”

Easy for her.
She
wasn’t the one crazy in love, he thought. “Very easy,” he said.

It wasn’t long before their occasional lunch dates became a weekly habit. During their time together, they talked about everything under the sun — the youth center, politics, their families, movies, books. Anything and everything. And sometimes they talked about the baby. Whenever the subject came up, Sam would get a dreamy, goofy expression on her face and she’d look nothing like the sexy siren she’d been when he first met her. Of course, he still thought she was sexy. He wished he didn’t think so. It would make seeing her easier on his heart. Because every time he saw her, she looked even more beautiful and he loved her a little bit more.

If he was smart, he’d stop seeing her altogether. They could both get on with their lives as planned.

Apparently he wasn’t smart.

Except for talk of the baby, they never spoke of the future. Ever. It was like neither wanted to admit they were being stupid, that they couldn’t go on like this forever. She didn’t want a serious relationship, he didn’t want a child. And, oh yeah, he didn’t want to marry again. It was fairly simple when you thought about it.

So he tried not to think about it.

Something else he avoided thinking about was his growing preoccupation with Sam’s unborn child. Her excitement about the baby was contagious and he actually found himself looking forward to its birth. He and Sam never talked about what would happen to their friendship once the baby was born. Would they continue to see each other on occasion, or would it be smarter to cut things off? Again, it was easier not to think about. So, he didn’t. Much.

It was an unseasonably hot Thursday in late September as John drove through downtown Seattle, the air-conditioning going full blast. Sam waited for him in front of Cavanaugh Brothers Coffee, holding two iced drinks. She looked great as usual, making pregnancy look fashionable with her pretty, sheared top that hugged her belly and showed off her chest, over knee-length leggings and low-heeled sandals.

“Whew! It’s an oven out there,” she said as she slid onto the leather seat, her hair swirling and settling into place on her shoulders. She handed him his drink then took a long sip of her own.

She was positively glowing, and it wasn’t from the heat. Pregnancy was good to her. Not only did she look more beautiful, but she was also more relaxed, more serene. A sense of pride welled up inside him. He was the cause of that. Well, the baby inside her was, but
he’d
put it there.

“John?” Sam peered at him curiously. “You have a weird smile on your face. Did I get you the wrong drink? Iced coffee, black with—”

He shook his head in a jerky motion, snapping himself back to reality. “Sorry, I— No. The drink is perfect.” He searched his mind for an explanation. He settled on the truth. “Pregnancy agrees with you. You just—” He cleared his throat. “You look great.”

She smiled and blushed.

As he pulled into the thick lunchtime traffic, his cell phone rang. Answering, he listened a moment and frowned. “Okay. I’m on my way.”

Hanging up, he turned to Sam. “That was Alex. He was supposed to meet with one of the contractors out at the center, but got tied up. So I need to run by there. Shouldn’t take me long if you want to come with.”

She smiled. “Sure. I’d love to see how it’s coming along. But you still owe me a lunch.” As if to affirm her words, her stomach growled. They both laughed.

Fifteen minutes later, John left her to wander the first floor of the center while he went upstairs to consult with the plumbing contractor.

The air in the building was stifling, what with the ninety degree temperature outside combined with the lack of air conditioning inside, not to mention all the concentrated smells that went along with construction: paint, plaster, sawdust, glue and a bunch of other unhealthy inhalants.

Sam fanned herself with her hand. She stood in the middle of a huge room that looked to become a basketball court. The center was progressing quickly. John had told her they were ahead of schedule with the construction. He and Alex were hoping to open sometime in December. Right about the time the baby is born, she couldn’t help thinking. She rubbed her belly and felt a resounding kick.

“Hey there, little one,” she whispered, having gotten into the habit of talking to the baby when she was alone. Somehow it seemed to be aware when she spoke to it. If it was active, it would suddenly cease when she spoke. If it was still, it would suddenly kick or turn over. It did the same thing whenever John—

She immediately intercepted that thought. She’d heard that babies sometimes recognize voices they hear in the womb. But there was no way it would recognize
John’s
voice. It wasn’t like they spent that much time together, once a week at most.

Thrusting out her lower lip, she blew upward onto her face while wiping away sweaty wisps of hair from her forehead. She knew what it was. The few times she’d managed to squeeze in an exercise routine in the past few months, the baby had reacted similarly. It was probably responding to her accelerated heart rate.

The thought made her feel better only momentarily. Because she’d just admitted to herself that her heart danced faster whenever she was with John. When she was by herself at night, lying in her bed, she thought of him often. Sometimes in erotic ways that left her too wired to sleep, but mostly just in loving ways.

Loving ways?
Don’t go there
.

She frowned and searched through her purse for something to use as a fan, almost tripping over a two by four. The closest thing she found was an ATM receipt. She stuffed it back inside and continued to fan with her hand. Her stomach growled again. She needed food and hoped John would be done soon.

Sam was glad they were friends again. Being with him just felt so comfortable, so right.

Loving thoughts
.

Good God!

Feeling lightheaded — from the heat and hunger, obviously — she headed for the exit, needing fresh air. She passed a scaffolding with two men working near the ceiling. She nodded to them before pushing through the swinging glass doors encrusted with a fine white dust and splatters of paint. A blast of hot air radiated from the sidewalk. Humidity formed beads of perspiration along her upper lip and nose. Glancing across the street, she saw the sidewalk over there was shaded.