Foolish Notions Page 8
“It basically means that they are using some intense drugs to destroy the cancer. Most likely she will have some side effects from them.”
“A reaction to them?”
She nodded. “That’s right.”
“Like what?”
“It all depends on how her body responds to the drugs.” She paused for a moment. “Let’s not worry over the inevitable. We’ll take it as it comes.”
He gave an irritated laugh as he looked at her. “Worry? My mom has cancer and you’re telling me not to worry.” He stood up in one swift movement. “Well, please, excuse me if I do, but it’s kind of hard not to.” Without another word he went into the house.
Samantha looked at her feet. It took every ounce of will not to get up and run after him. She wanted to take him in her arms, hold him against her breast, and gently stroke his hair as she spoke soft endearments that soothed his pain away. A voice echoed in her ears—she was here to take care of Marie, not James. He could take care of himself. This would be hard on him, it might even test him, but he would survive. He would handle this misfortune just like he handled any hardship that was thrown his way. He would fight his way through it. He was resilient.
She raised her knees and dropped her head on them in frustration. But this was his mom and he was hurting. She cursed her softer side as she looked up at the last rays of the setting sun. She sat in the dusk contemplating whether she should go comfort him or go get her shoes and take that walk.
What kind of person was she if she let him go on feeling this way without even trying to help him through it? The least she could do was let him vent the agony he must be going through. No one should have to suffer alone through the pain of having a sick loved one. She got up and went into the house. James was in the living room, slouched on a black leather sofa with a fresh beer in his hand.
“James, I’m sorry for how that might have sounded. I’m not saying ‘don’t care.’ Of course you care.” She stood before him and consoled, “I understand what you are going through.”
“Do you?” He looked at her questioningly.
“Yes, I see it almost every day. I see children who are so sick they can’t hold their heads up. I see parents who would give anything to take that sickness away. I see husbands worried about their wives and vice versa. And I see children who are hurt and concerned about their parents.”
She sat down. “Your mom is starting out with more of an advantage than most. For starters, she’s going into this with a good outlook. If you want my opinion, that’s half the battle.” She tallied on each finger as she spoke. “Plus, she’s strong and healthy, and mentally, she is ready for this. She has a son who will move mountains for her. And she’s got one hell of a good nurse to take care of her.”
He lifted his beer but didn’t drink. “Then why do I feel so helpless?”
“You’re not going to evade that feeling no matter what you do. No one is. All we can do is be there to support her. Be there when she needs us.” She touched him on his leg, because she simply couldn’t refrain any longer. “She’s going to be fine.”
* * * * *
He looked at her slowly, thoughtfully. It wasn’t her business what he was feeling, how he was reacting to his mom’s sickness, yet she was reaching out to him anyway. Her compassion and concern left him speechless. She was an amazing woman. And she had been his.
“What is it? You can tell me.”
He cleared his throat and shook his head. “I’m sorry for getting so angry. And I’m sorry about the other morning, too. I haven’t been myself lately,” he said.
“Understandably. These next couple of months are going to be long and hard.”
He nodded in agreement.
“I want us to be friends,” she explained further. “We need to work with each other, not against each other.”
“We used to work well together.” As he looked into her eyes, she didn’t move; she only stared back at him. Was it just her unique kindness that prompted her to move into his home and take care of his mom or was there another reason? He needed to know. And there was only one way to find out.
His gaze dropped to her mouth and he focused on her lips, which were parted slightly. They were an amazing soft pink; slightly damp from her running her tongue along them, and staring at them caused his mind to wander. They had always kissed like it was the first time. The faraway hunger that he’d felt when he’d come home and found her there, stirred and spread as he remembered how her mouth tasted, how it felt pressed against his. Her lips were dewy and yielding and her bottom lip fit perfectly between his teeth. They had an exceptional flavor reminiscent of a mysterious exotic fruit. When he leaned toward her and she didn’t move, he took it as a sign, and cupped the side of her face to guide her to him. His mouth melted against hers.
Using his tongue, James subtly, gently, teased her lips until they parted. The lingering little nibbles were so he could taste her well-known warmth. He hadn’t tasted her in so long he wanted to savor every drop.
He was consumed by the sensation of her hair in his fingers, the softness of her cheek against his palm, the sweet taste of her in his mouth. Her lips were warm satin, inviting to the point of madness.
He wanted her more than he had ever wanted her before. The need to touch every part of her body shot through him with unexpected force. The intensity was astonishing, even to him. He was desperate to reacquaint himself with every square inch of that body, which he had known so well.
Samantha’s nails slid along his scalp as her fingers ran through his hair, down to his neck. A moan of pleasure escaped from her lips as her hands pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. She leaned into him, pressing deeper into the sofa.
“Oh God, Samantha,” he said. He wanted her and his voice was saturated with that want. He couldn’t get closer even if he tried. This was how he remembered it, captivating and sensual.
Instantly Samantha broke the kiss and abruptly moved to the other side of the sofa. Her hand flew to her mouth, touching her swollen lips as her trance-like gaze remain fixed on the cushion in front of her.
“Samantha? What’s the matter?” James sputtered as he tried to figure out how she had moved from his arms so quickly. He looked down the sofa at her. She looked as if she had just been slapped, not kissed.
She took a deep breath and commanded, “Don’t ever do that again.”
James’s eyebrows shot up. He was totally unprepared for the demand she hurled at him with poignant intensity. “Excuse me?”
Her words came out slowly as she carefully punctuated every last one. “Don’t you ever touch me again.”
He scoffed at her statement, turning her threat into nothing more than a hollow retort. “That wasn’t just me. You were enjoying it just as much as I was.” He looked into her eyes. “Or was that moan I heard a moan of protest?”
She jumped up from the sofa and raked her hair behind her ears in an agitated manner. It took her a few seconds to recover her composure. “I don’t enjoy being manhandled.”
James’s laugh echoed throughout the room when he stood up. He moved toward her and in a low, taunting voice said, “I’ve touched and loved every inch of your body.” He moved a step closer. “And I don’t ever recall you accusing me of manhandling you.”
She closed her eyes as he brushed his thumb over her lower lip.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to deny it.”
She turned her head to the side, breaking all physical contact with him. “Y-yes. I am. This might come as a shock to you but I no longer want your caresses.” She squared her shoulders. “I don’t want you to ever touch me again.”
He raised a single brow. “Ever is a long time, Samantha.”
“I don’t have to stand here and listen to this.”
James followed her around the room as she paced about uneasily. “Listen to what? The truth? You wanted me just as badly as I wanted you.”
“Nonsense.”
He cocked his head to the side. “I
’ve never known you to lie, Samantha.”
She stopped suddenly, held a level gaze, and replied, “I never have.”
The doorbell chimed and both sets of eyes shot in the direction of the front door. James started forward but stopped when Samantha raised her hand and said, “It’s for me.” She turned and left.
“Hi, Paul,” Samantha said as she held the door open. She wore a smile that looked pasted on.
Paul leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek, then looked at his watch. “Sorry, I’m late. It took me a while to find it.” He laughed as he looked around the enormous foyer. “I’m not used to these fancy neighborhoods with private driveways.”
Samantha touched the guy’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. Your timing is perfect. All I need to do is get my bag and I’ll be ready.” She called over her shoulder as she left the room, “I’ll be just a minute.”
James stood in the foyer sizing up the man as Samantha went upstairs. Paul appeared to be around their age, perhaps a little older. His hair was a deep brown and slightly thinning at the top. He was wearing gray sweatpants, a white T-shirt, and the athletic sneakers were spotless white. He stood about an inch shorter than James and had a good, strong build.
“Hi, you must be James.” Paul stepped forward and extended his hand in a friendly greeting.
“I must be.” James instinctively reached out and shook the man’s hand. His stomach turned not only at Paul’s wide smile but also at the way he surveyed his home. Would throwing him out be too rude? What did he care—after all, it was his house. He tossed the idea around for a moment before deciding against it.
“Love the house,” Paul said after looking at the wrought iron on the sweeping staircase.
James could care less what he loved. “And who might you be?”
“I’m Paul.”
James puckered his lips in agitation. He didn’t like him. And what was with that stupid smile? “Yes, I heard your name.” He was way too chipper. What was Samantha doing with this guy? He wasn’t her style.
Samantha came down the stairs quickly, holding a gym bag. She raised it in the air. “Got it. I’m ready.”
Paul moved in front of her and took her by the shoulders when she came to stand by him. “Sammy, I haven’t seen tension like this in you for a long time.” He worked the muscles that stretched across her shoulders.
“I need this so desperately tonight.”
“Relax,” Paul said softly as his hands moved down her arms and then back up to her shoulders and neck.
“That’s easier said than done.” Samantha rolled her neck from side to side as Paul’s fingers manipulated her muscles. “Oooh.”
Paul smiled at her heartfelt groan. “It’s going to be torture, but we’ll have a good time tonight.”
Did he just wink at her, James wondered. If Paul touched her again James would throw him out, and he would enjoy every minute of it. He felt a hint of satisfaction as he pictured hurling the nuisance over the perfectly trimmed hedge by the front door, past his mom’s roses, and into the driveway.
“Told you I needed it,” Samantha said.
“Sammy, you look flush.” Paul pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. “Are you feeling well?”
James shifted his position. Of course she’s flushed, she just got done kissing me, you idiot.
“I’m fine. Really.” She raised her shoulders and then let them fall again. “Things have just been a little busy lately.”
“That’s all?”
She smiled. “That’s all.”
Paul’s thumb brushed her chin. “If you say so.”
James raised a brow when his gaze met Samantha’s. “Forget I’m here?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Good.”
Samantha took a step away from Paul as she made introductions. “Paul, this is my boss, James Taylor. James, this is Paul—”
“Yes, we’ve met.” James’s tone turned hard, and he never took his eyes off Samantha.
“Well, then . . .” she said awkwardly.
“Sammy, we better get going,” Paul said.
“Yes, we better.” She turned her attention back to James.
“Good night, James.”
Paul raised his hand in a friendly wave. “It was nice meeting you, James. Your home is very impressive.”
James followed Samantha to the door and reached for her arm. As she was about to exit, he spoke, “Will you excuse us, Paul?” He pulled her back into the house. “Samantha,” he put great emphasis on her full name, “and I will be just a minute.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Samantha managed to get out as James hauled her through the foyer, past his office, and into the living room.
He didn’t release her arm as he whipped her around and stopped. “I could ask you that same question.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Just where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Samantha yanked her arm from his grip. “Wherever the hell I want to.”
“Samantha, I’m in no mood for your sarcasm,” he all but growled.
“You are completely out of your mind if you think you can intimidate me.” Her eyes narrowed. “You can inflict your rude, appalling, and extremely nauseating manner on me, but how dare you do it to Paul? He’s an innocent bystander.”
“Innocent my ass.”
“Excuse me?” she shot out furiously.
James’s hands were planted on his hips, his eyes glistening like daggers as he stared at her. “What’s this Sammy crap?” He made a sour face at the nickname. “Who the hell does he think he is, calling you Sammy?”
“I don’t have to answer to you. Where I go on my time is my business. Whom I choose to spend that time with is also my business.” She looked at her watch. “Look at that, it appears to be my time.”
Oh, Jesus, he couldn’t even say the word. He wanted to ask her if Paul was her boyfriend but his mouth wouldn’t form the words. He hadn’t even considered her having a boyfriend. He swallowed hard, opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “I don’t like the way he touches you.”
Her gaze leveled, her eyes narrowed. “And that’s my problem how?”
“He touches you like he knows you.” His jaw clenched as his eyes moved over her. “Like he knows your body.” Swallowing, he finished. “I don’t like the thought of anyone knowing your body but me.”
“I’m leaving.” She turned. “Like I said before, good night, James.”
“Stop,” James demanded. “Tell me who he is.”
She stopped and then turned. “He’s a friend,” she said after a moment.
“He doesn’t look at you like he’s just your friend.”
She shifted the gym bag to her other hand. “I’m sorry you don’t like the way he touches me or looks at me. There’s nothing I can do about that.” Lifting her shoulders, she added, “Not that I would.”
He sucked in a long breath, trying to control his annoyance. “I don’t recall you ever being this sassy before.” If it wasn’t for the hint of jealousy he was feeling, he knew that he would be enjoying her brazen ways. “I guess I’m going to have to start calling you my sassy angel.”
“I’m not your angel anymore.”
“Are you Paul’s?” Irritation crept through him. He didn’t like feeling this way. When Samantha had been with him there had never been any reason for jealousy. She had been his, without a doubt. No one else mattered.
“I don’t understand what your problem is.” She lifted her shoulders, and then dropped them. “You don’t want me; you never did.”
“I was devoted to you.”
“That’s bullshit,” she snapped angrily.
He pushed the words through his teeth. “Answer the question, Samantha. Who the hell is he?”
She, too, gritted her teeth when she spoke. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business. And I don’t believe I have to answer any of your questi
ons.”
“Perhaps Paul would like to know that only moments ago you were passionately kissing—”
“I told you, he’s a friend. And you’re mistaken if you think there was passion in that kiss.”
His gaze fell to the floor as he tried to control his emotions. “How good of a friend?”
She hesitated and adjusted her bag in her hand again. She looked over her shoulder toward the door before she spoke. “Good enough to be my yoga instructor.”
He looked up swiftly. “Yoga instructor?”
“Yes. He also happens to be my chiropractor.”
“Chiropractor?” James puckered his lips as he said the word. “That’s all? He’s nothing more than a friend, instructor, and chiropractor?”
“Why, are you going to beat him up if he is?”
“I’ve thought about it.”
“Will you grow up?” she snapped, shaking her bag in irritation. “There is nothing between us.”
“At least not on your part.”
“On his part either.”
“I saw the way he was looking at you.” The muscle in his jaw flexed again. “I’m a man. I know what’s going through his mind.”
“I promise that’s not what was going through his mind. We are friends. That’s all we’ve ever been that’s all we’ll ever be.” She looked down at her watch. “Are you satisfied now?”
A smile slowly pulled at the corner of his lips. “Not nearly as satisfied if the kiss—”
“I don’t have time for this. Good night, James.” As she walked out of the room she said, “And that’s the last good night you’re going to hear tonight. I’m going to be late for class.”
“There is one more thing.” He didn’t respond to her twisted frown as he stepped behind her. “Don’t ever introduce me as your boss again.”
“You’re paying me, so that makes you my—”
James just shook his head. “I’m not, nor will I ever be your boss.” That was the last thing he wanted to be in her life. He reached his hand out and touched her face lightly. His fingers glided over the arch of her cheekbone and down the length of her jaw. The blond bun that had gold wisps of hair shooting in different directions begged to be freed. The gold hoops in her ears were as delicate as her facial features. When Samantha raised her arm indicating the time, he nodded and leaned into her ear. He lingered for a moment before he spoke softly. “Have a good class, Angel.”