Sam choked on a bark of laughter. He strode around the truck, slipped Jennifer’s arm through his, and sauntered toward the side entrance. “I tell you what. If Steven is intelligent enough to say yes, I will fly you and your mother toNew York on Tidewater’s private jet and take you shopping for a dress for the dance.”
“Deal!” she said with delight. She batted her eyelashes at him. “But I should warn you, I’ve been accused of having expensive tastes.”
“No problem,” Sam drawled. “I’ve managed to tuck away some of my paychecks over the years. And if that’s not enough, I’m sure my brothers won’t mind kicking in a few bucks.”
Sam sat at the small, battered table, in the exact same chair his grandfather had sat in to record his good-bye video. The cottage was dark except for the moonlight coming through the windows, it washalf past eleven , and he was waiting for Willa to get home from her date with Barry Cobb.
Tonight’s dinner conversation in the old Kent homestead had ranged from Cody’s decision to try out for next year’s Odyssey of the Mind, to Emmett’s new keel design he was working on, to whether Sam though the Red Sox would play the Yankees in the World Series again this season. The only thing not discussed was Willa’s blaring absence.
Sam still couldn’t believe that Barry Cobb had had the audacity to drive up to her home that afternoon and boldly ask her out to dinner. Even more surprising, Willa didn’t seem to mind being seen in public not only with the enemy but with a very eligible bachelor.
The enemy part didn’t worry Sam; he figured Willa had agreed to dinner out of sheer curiosity. He smiled. And maybe also to piss him off. But what if she was seen by one of the marriage posse? The last thing he needed was for those damn busybodies to decide that Cobb was the perfect match for her. Headlights suddenly slashed through the darkness, briefly illuminating the interior of the cottage before they swung around to the beachfront and stopped. Sam smiled again when he heard a car door immediately open and shut and footsteps scampering onto the cottage porch. The poor bastard wasn’t even getting a good-night kiss for his troubles. The headlights repeated their arcing display in reverse as the cottage door opened. The interior lights came on, and Willa let out a scream loud enough to wake the dead. Sam stood up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What are you doing here?” She clutched her jacket to her chest.
“Waiting for you.”
Her expression instantly became indignant. “Are you checking up on me?”
“Hmm?” he asked, studying her. “No, of course not. Is that dirt on your forehead?” He walked over, brushed back her hair, then dropped his gaze to hers with a sigh. “Did Cobb make you nervous tonight, or did you run into the marriage posse?”
She headed to the sink, tossing her jacket over a chair on her way by. “Barry was a perfect gentleman.”
“I would have expected no less.”
She frowned at him, then turned on the water, grabbed a towel hanging next to the window, and held a corner of it under the faucet. “And nobody from town saw us, because we drove thirty miles to Ellsworth to go to dinner.”
He took the towel from her and gently wiped away the mud. “That was smart. There, all clean.” He led her over to the table and sat her down. “How did you get mud on your forehead and knee?” he asked, squatting down to examine her knee through the large hole in her stocking. She pulled the hem of her wrinkled dress down. “Barry already checked me out and declared I’d live,”
she said, her expression daring him to comment.
He stood up. “Then I shall take the gentleman’s word.” He went to the fridge, got out the large piece of dark chocolate cake he’d brought from the house, and placed it on the table in front of her. “Did he buy
you dessert?”
“Warm apple pie,” she snapped, swiping her finger through the frosting and popping it into her mouth. Sam opened several drawers and came back with a fork. He sat down across from her, pulled the plate over to his side of the table, and dug in. “You still haven’t told me how you got mud on your face.”
“Go home, Sam. I want to be alone.”
He stopped eating, studied her for several seconds, then quietly set down his fork, stood up, and went to the door. “Will you go to the movies with me this Friday night?”
She blinked at him, though Sam didn’t know if she was surprised by his leaving or his asking her out. He took his jacket off the peg and slipped it on. “Or if you prefer, we can rent a movie and stay in.”
“I want to be alone Friday night, too.”
“Saturday?”
“I have to wash my hair Saturday night.”
“I’ll check in with you next week, then,” he said, stepping onto the porch and closing the door behind him.
He pulled up his collar outside but stopped under a low-hanging tree several feet away from the cottage. Through the window, he saw Willa pull the cake over to her side of the table and put a large bite into her mouth.
A few things Jennifer had said that afternoon made Sam wonder if the secret to winning Willa’s heart might not be a swift kick in the butt after all.
Fanning that little spark back to life would be fun, considering how easy it was to rile her. He’d have to take things a lot further, though, if he wanted to rid Willa of the habit of being responsible for everyone’s happiness. But then, mirrors were wonderful instruments for reflecting the naked truth right back at a person.
Chapter Seventeen
Willa had spent mostof the last two weeks locked in her office, trying to lose herself in her new line of pet caskets but more often staring into space as she tried to figure a way out of her dilemma. And, she admitted with a sigh as she tossed her pencil down on her sketch pad, she had also been hiding from Sam.
But mostly, she’d been forced into exile by the killer glares she’d been getting from her workers. Jennifer and Shelby and Peg weren’t talking to her, either, and last Monday, Cody had announced that being around a bunch of silent women was creepy and had gone to stay with his dad. The only person who didn’t appear angry at her for going to dinner with Barry Cobb four more times was Sam. Which was confounding—shouldn’t he be worried that she was cavorting with the enemy?
After all, it was his inheritance Cobb was interested in, under the guise of being interested in her.
But Sam hadn’t made any attempts to see her in the last twelve days. She’d heard he’d shortened his hours at Kent Caskets to two days a week, apparently to devote more time to hunting down every last seafood restaurant within fifty miles. He obviously loved to eat a lot more than he loved her. She’d also heard he’d gained more than ten pounds.
And the diabolical jerk had stolen her thunder by flying Shelby and Jennifer and Cody toNew York City on Tidewater’s private jet. He’d treated them to two days of heavy shopping and even a helicopter tour ofManhattan . What good was having a big fat bank account if she couldn’t use it to impress her family?
She had wanted to buy Jennifer’s dress for the dance. Willa turned off her desk lamp, plunging her office into darkness. She hadn’t even gotten to take Jennifer driving again, since her niece had decided that Sam was a wonderful instructor. Well, if the girl wanted to get all gaga over the man, that was her problem. Willa had been there and done that. Samuel Sinclair was just another typical male with an agenda, and if Shelby and Jennifer and Emmett couldn’t see that, then…then that was also their problem. She was getting sick and tired of always watching out for them, anyway. Maybe they could all use a good lesson in getting themselves out of their own messes.
She snapped the light back on, picked up the phone, and dialed Emmett’s house.