His Small-Town Sweetheart. Amanda Berry
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Two
Nicole straightened her shirt, tucked her hair behind her ear and shifted the six-pack from one hand to the other. She stood in front of Sam’s screen door, which he could walk by any minute and see her standing out here in the dark like a ninny. This was Sam. Her friend, her confidant.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. She could hear some shuffling from the other room, and then he was walking toward her. Holy crap, it hadn’t just been her imagination. He was tall, dark and handsome. Not at all the kid she’d left behind.
Earlier today, his blue eyes had been amazing close-up, sparkling in the sunlight with flecks of dark blue mingled with light blue and even hints of gold. Not that she’d been staring earlier. It had taken most of her willpower not to check him out the way he’d done to her. Farming had definitely been good for his development. His chest was broad. His arms were muscular, but not overly so. And she’d bet money that he was packing his own six-pack under that AC/DC T-shirt.
As he drew closer, he ran his hand through his thick, shaggy hair and she wanted to do the same, except, in her fantasy, when she wove her fingers in his hair, she would jerk his full lips down to hers. When he stopped at the door, she held up the six-pack and smiled.
She needed to stop thinking of Sam as eye candy. Their meeting today had caught her off guard. She hadn’t thought, just reacted. And it had felt good.
With everything that had happened in her life recently, she could really use a friend. Maybe Sam could use a friend, too. She’d kept his friendship close to her heart when she’d moved to California. Sam, who’d always known the right thing to do. She’d written him letters as she maneuvered through a new school and social situations she never would have experienced in Tawnee Valley. She’d never sent the letters that shared all her secrets and fears. Just a few when she’d first moved away. Right now, she needed a friend more than sex... At least, that’s what she reminded herself of when he stood on the other side of the door looking like sex on a stick.
He opened the screen door, and she slid through the opening under his arm, into the kitchen, before he could tell her not to.
“How’s it going? I brought beer.” She moved around him, catching hints of the crispness of his soap and that distinct, manly scent that was all Sam. Raw, powerful.
“You aren’t going to hug me again, are you?” He eyed her suspiciously.
She shrugged and set the beer on the table. “Probably.”
She pulled out two beers and handed him one. He took it from her, almost as if he were afraid to touch her. He hadn’t returned her hugs earlier. Of course, he hadn’t been touchy-feely when he was a fourteen-year-old, either.
Twisting off the cap to her beer, she glanced around the kitchen. It looked the same. Her dad had mentioned that Mr. and Mrs. Ward had died years ago. Other than that, her father hadn’t talked much about the Wards, except to say Sam was a hard worker.
“Cheers,” she said and clinked her bottle against his. They both took a swig and then stood there awkwardly with their beers. “So...does the rest of the house look the same? The kitchen definitely hasn’t changed.”
He shrugged. His gaze dipped down to her bare legs. She’d changed into shorts and had managed to find her one pair of sneakers that she didn’t use for running.
“This is ridiculous,” she said.
He lifted his gaze to hers and raised his eyebrow.
“We were once best friends, Sam. I used to sleep in your bed. We used to run around in bathing suits and sneakers. I showed you mine and you showed me yours...in a perfectly scientific discovery sense. We should be able to have a beer together and catch up like normal people.”
He shifted his weight on his feet, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward, about as much of a smile as he could make, apparently. “Sure. You want to see the house?”
“I’d love to.” That had been what she was angling for, after all.
Sam had a house, a job, a couple of dogs that had greeted her when she walked up, while she was adrift in life. She didn’t have a job and could end up anywhere in the United States with her search. She’d just left a long-term relationship and wasn’t in the right frame of mind to start anything. Even with her old best friend who was now hot but completely anchored to this town.
He led the way, and she noted how he filled out his carpenter jeans with a very nicely shaped butt. As he stopped abruptly, she ran into him. He looked over his shoulder at her with that disgruntled expression of his.
“Do you ever smile?” She returned his look before she stepped back and glanced around the dining room. “Nothing’s changed. How do you manage that? I’m constantly changing things. Moving furniture, painting walls, buying lamps. Jeremy used to complain that I couldn’t leave anything for longer than a minute.”
“Who’s Jeremy?” he said in that gruff voice of his. Definitely lower toned, it made her spine tingle in response. Could she get him to read her a book or even the dictionary? Maybe the ingredients off a cereal box? Whole grain oats, sugar, calcium carbonate...
“My ex-boyfriend.” She wished she could say “my dog” or maybe “my snake,” but he was her ex. “We lived together in LA. He got the apartment. I lost my job and came back here.”
“That sucks.” He led her into the living room. There was a nice flat-screen and a game console, along with a few recliners and a couch that had seen better days. He gestured to one of the chairs and sat in the one with the best view of the TV. His chair looked like the most lived-in one.
“It did suck, but it was probably for the best.” Jeremy had actually had the gall to blame her parents’ divorce as one of the reasons she wouldn’t connect with him. It was ridiculous. “I don’t want to think about it. I want to find out what you’ve been doing since I last saw you. You obviously didn’t complete our tree house.”
He shrugged. “Didn’t have time.”
Getting him to talk was like pulling teeth. They used to talk over each other. They’d had so much to say and share. “I heard about your mom and dad. I was sorry I couldn’t be here for you.”
He nodded and looked at the label on his beer. The way his shoulders hunched told her he wasn’t over the pain of losing them. She wanted to let him know that he could cry on her shoulder if he wanted. She wished she could have been there. As she’d been there for him when his dog died when they were eleven.
“You had to take care of Luke and Brady and the farm? That must have been tough. I couldn’t imagine being responsible for another person at eighteen. I was barely responsible for myself. We won’t discuss my poor goldfish burial ground. How did you date or go out?”
“I didn’t.”
She opened her mouth and snapped it shut. Someone as handsome as Sam didn’t stay single without effort. He was gorgeous and tall, and she really wanted to see the solid body she’d hugged earlier. “Didn’t you have a girlfriend in high school? I tried to date in high school, but the guys were always after one thing.”
She looked at him, expecting his answer to her question. He was still looking at his beer label, lost in his own world.
“What?” He finally raised his gaze to hers.
“High school girlfriend?”
“Yeah, I had a few of those.”
She took a drink of beer. “What about after high school? Anyone special?”
“No.”
She felt compelled to fill the empty space around them. “Jeremy and I met in college. I think that’s why we stayed together so long. I’m surprised you didn’t have anyone like that. I mean, I realize you were busy with your brothers and the farm, but it’s really hard to go for a long period without...well, you know. I