“Which they can’t afford,” Sam reminded him.
“And Bethany needs a cheap place to live. If the Flynns are willing to exchange free room and board, I’m sure Bethany would help take care of Mrs. Flynn at night so Ryan could live a normal teenager’s life.”
“That’s a good idea, Nick. But are you sure you want to give up your roomie? Because I’m not letting you sweet-talk your way back into my bed.”
“Damn it, Sam! For the last time, Bethany and I are not and never have been lovers. I hired her to walk Chewie during the day, and I let her move in with me temporarily because her boyfriend was beating the crap out of her. He’s still stalking her, so that’s why I suggested she leave L.A. and move here. She’s taking the red-eye tonight, and I’m picking her up at the airport at six a.m. tomorrow.” When Sam stared up at him, evidently speechless, he asked, “Why can’t you believe me?”
“Oh, I believe you all right.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s exactly like you to try to fix everyone’s life. What I can’t believe is your arrogance in thinking everything is your responsibility. You’re not God.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
“If that’s the case, when are you going to let someone carry a few of
your
burdens? You’re so afraid of being compared to the deadbeat sperm donor who left your mother you think you have to keep the world turning all on your own.” She held up her hand. “Wait! Maybe if you spin around counterclockwise really fast, you’ll be able to slow down the earth’s orbit.”
“Ha-ha. I didn’t come up here for a damn lecture.” He pointed at her sewing machine and the velour spread over her cutting table. “Look at you. You’re working two jobs while taking care of the house and Dani, all so you won’t have to accept financial help from me. Don’t you think the least I can do while I’m on vacation is pitch in so you don’t burn yourself out?”
She gnawed on her lip for several moments before she finally said, “I’m sorry. I really don’t want to fight with you.” She glanced at the shelf full of completed stock. “There is something you could do for me.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“I have deliveries that need to be made at the various hospital gift shops.” She opened the top filing cabinet drawer. “I have invoices for you to give—” She froze.
Crap. He should’ve taken the time to leave the drawer as neat as he’d found it.
“You were snooping through my files, weren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it—”
She glared at him.
“Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. “To you it’s snooping. To me it’s helping. I was only trying to get an idea of your production costs so I could find a less expensive way to manufacture—”
“Nobody asked for your
help
. How can you not see how controlling you are?”
“What happened to
you really don’t want to fight with me
?”
“I’m not arguing. I’m simply stating a fact. This is
my
business. I don’t need you butting in and trying to run everything the way you always do.”
“Shoot me for trying to make things easier for you. I hate to see you struggle when I can—”
“—do it so much better than I can? I guess you think I’m so incompetent I didn’t bother finding the cheapest price for my materials?”
“I don’t consider you incompetent. I’m damn proud of what you’ve accomplished.” Although he doubted she’d figured in her labor as part of her production cost or worked up a comparison to the price of outsourcing. “But I do believe you’re foolish not to take advantage of my business expertise. For example, have you looked into applying for a design patent and registering your trademark?”
“I’m not making enough to afford to do that.”
“Sometimes you have to spend a little to make a lot, Sammy. You may need to take out a small business loan or look for an investor. You claim you want to buy me out of this house, and yet you refuse to let me show you how you could accomplish that.”
“When I want your help, I’ll ask for it. Now if you’d still like to make those deliveries after you talk to Ryan’s sister, I’ll be thrilled to let you do
that
.”
He couldn’t believe what a hardhead she could be.
“Fine,” he conceded. “I understand this is scary for you. If you want to knock yourself out selling a few hundred units each year, be my guest. But in my opinion, you could be moving ten thousand times that volume and making some real money. If you’re too proud to take my free advice, do yourself a favor and hire a business consultant.”
~*~
Sam was still searching for some pithy comeback long after Nick left to make her deliveries. Why did she constantly let him get her goat and allow him to make her feel like an ingrate whenever he butted into her business? If his objective really was to assist her, where was his so-called
help
when she wanted another baby? He was a total hypocrite.
She flopped back into the chair at her sewing machine, grinding her teeth. When her bare feet bumped into something hairy, her heart jumped into her throat. She shoved her chair back from the machine and discovered two brown eyes peering up at her from under the table.
“When did you sneak in here?” she asked the dog, who must have followed Nick upstairs and crept in while she was distracted by his master.
The animal rose abruptly and laid his big head in her lap, obviously hoping to be petted. She stiffened and winced as she tentatively stroked his head and found his fur surprisingly soft. “Nice puppy.”
Chewie licked her trembling hand, making a soft, high-pitched sound in the back of his throat. As a young child she’d been chased and knocked over by a neighbor’s boxer. The animal had pinned her to the ground and drooled in her face until its master intervened. Ever since, she’d been extremely nervous around dogs.
She dipped her head to look Nick’s pet in the eye. “You really aren’t at all ferocious, are you?”
The dog’s response was to lick her face.
“Yuck!” She swiped his doggie saliva from her cheek. “Just because we’re making friends with each other doesn’t mean I like you slobbering on me. Your breath smells like a trash can.”
The dog lapped at her face again.
“At least he wasn’t sleeping with Bethany,” she said, ruffling Chewie’s fur. Unfortunately, her immense relief over Nick’s revelation scared the bejeebers out of her.
Why would she care unless....
Was she stupidly falling for him again? Assuming she’d ever really stopped loving him—which she’d begun to doubt.
For over a year, her pride had insisted he’d killed her feelings with his mistrust and autocratic attitude about her getting pregnant again. But in only the few days since he’d come back, he’d managed to reignite her hope that he would one day love her.
Nonetheless, his snooping through her files proved he was still the same exasperating, call-all-the-shots idiot he’d been when she divorced him. If Nick really wanted to reconcile with her as he claimed, why would he do something guaranteed to make her angry? And how would it benefit his cause if he assisted in making her independent?
Was it possible he’d been sincerely trying to help her? Or was he simply attempting to sabotage her effort to become self-supporting?
“No.” She shook her head, absently stroking Chewie’s fur. “Your master might be pushy and controlling, but he would never deliberately do anything that would hurt me.”
So if she was sure about the strength of Nick’s character and integrity, why was she resistant to letting him help her earn the most profit from her business?
Could he be right about her? Maybe she really was so determined to prove she didn’t need him that she’d made preserving her pride more important than her business’s success. If she truly hoped to pay the mortgage on her own, she needed to accept good advice and help from wherever it came—even from Nick.
Although she hated admitting it, their dispute that morning had been somewhat productive. But regardless of the fact they’d both driven home a few unwelcome truths, there was one thing Nick had been dead wrong about. She didn’t resent his ability to arouse her.
What she resented was that he really did seem to be the only man who could.
In reality, the key emotion incited by her lust and Nick’s ability to strip her of her inhibitions was shame. Deep, mortifying shame that, with only a few kisses and seductive caresses, he could make her beg like a wanton tramp.
It was a biological imperative for men to mate indiscriminately without regard for their feelings. Whereas she’d been taught nice girls waited for love and commitment. Every time she’d surrendered her self-respect and settled for physical pleasure in her marriage, rather than Nick’s love, she’d heard her pious aunt screaming, “
Slut
!”
The only thing that saved Sam from acknowledging that Scarlett Letter brand was, if she were truly easy, she would’ve slept with Adam by now. Except, he didn’t spark any more passion in her than Justin had.
For as long as she could remember, she’d loved Nick. Sadly, as a teenage mother with only a high school education, she hadn’t had enough self-esteem to expect her husband to love her back. Her guilt over destroying Nick’s dreams had compelled her to swallow her pride and accept however little he was capable of offering.
She smiled down at the dog and patted him. “But no longer, pal. I deserve better.”
CHAPTER 9
Ryan and his sister waved good-bye from the porch as Nick drove away, giving himself an imaginary high-five. When he’d proposed his idea for Bethany to move in and help them care for their mother, Cindy had hugged him as tightly as if he’d told her they’d won the lottery. As it turned out, Cindy was only a year older than Bethany, so he suspected they might become good friends.
Since the Flynn’s house only had three bedrooms, the arrangement would involve Ryan moving into the basement, but the boy seemed more than happy to give up his room for some extra free time and uninterrupted sleep.
While driving to make Sam’s first delivery, her earlier accusations replayed in his head. “
When are you going to let someone carry a few of your burdens? You’re so afraid of being compared to the deadbeat sperm donor who left your mother you believe you have to control everything
.”
Was she right? Sam had always been able to see him more clearly than he could see himself.
She could have a point about the link between his nightmare and the stress he constantly placed himself under. But what Sam didn’t know was his dreams were more about his fear of losing her and Dani than his feelings of being overwhelmed.
He parked in the hospital’s lot and removed the carton containing a dozen of Sam’s critters from the back of the vehicle. By the time he finally found the hospital’s tiny gift and flower shop, his arms ached from carrying the light but bulky box.
“Thank goodness you brought these,” said the manager of the shop, immediately unloading the carton onto a set of empty shelves. “I just sold the last one. Tell Sam we’ll probably need another carton next week if she can manage it.”
“They’re really that popular?” Nick helped her place the boxes of Magic Worry Pals onto the display.
“You can’t imagine,” the woman told him. “I even have customers buying them to take to their elderly mothers and fathers. When I started writing down my daughter’s worries for her before bed, she finally started sleeping through the night.”
Too bad he didn’t have some gimmick to help him cope that easily. If he had, maybe his fears wouldn’t have destroyed his marriage.
While making deliveries to three more hospitals in the county, he heard similar rave reviews. Consequently, at his last stop, he tucked the signed delivery slip in his shirt pocket with the others and plucked one of the boxes off the shelf. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to buy one.”
The clerk did a double take. “But I’m sure Samantha would sell you one cheaper than—”
“That’s okay.” He fished his wallet out of his jeans. “The hospital needs to make something, too.”
“Well, thanks.” The woman smiled and rang up his sale.
Nick carried the box with the stuffed animal out to the SUV and hid it in the back. There was no way Sam could single-handedly continue to supply the demand she’d created. So whether she liked it or not, first thing Monday morning, he was setting up a few videoconferences with toy manufacturers to discuss outsourcing her production.
On his way home, he stopped at the pet store to pick up dog food. When he finally pulled back into his driveway, a navy BMW convertible was parked behind Sam’s Prius. Apparently his wife had company who could afford a lot nicer car than his.
Hoisting the large bag of dog food onto his shoulder, he opened the house’s back door and stalled on the threshold. The last person on earth he wanted to see sat at his kitchen table, eating his leftovers.
He nodded to his rival and closed the door. “Dr. Chase.”
“Please, call me Adam. This isn’t a professional visit.”
“Adam stopped by to ask me to lunch,” Sam explained. “I’m so backed up on my orders, and there was a lot of chili left, so I suggested we eat here instead of going out.”
Nick dropped the oversized bag next to the door with a thump. “What a nice surprise.”
“For me too,” Adam said with equal sarcasm in his voice. “Samantha told me you’d moved back to Pennsylvania, but I didn’t realize—”
“—that I’ve moved back in with my wife and daughter?” Nick supplied for him.
The look on the doctor’s face suggested that wasn’t exactly what he’d been about to say. Samantha had no doubt neglected to mention Nick was sleeping in her room—or that she’d crawled into bed with him the other night.
“Ex-wife,” Sam corrected.
Ignoring her amendment, Nick handed the signed delivery slips to her. “Where’s Dani?”
“She just rode her bike to Haley’s. She probably thought I’d like some
privacy for my date
,” Sam said, emphasizing her last words, no doubt hoping he’d take the hint and leave, too.
“That was silly.” He filled a bowl with hot chili and sank into a seat at the table. “If you wanted to be alone, you would’ve gone out. Right, Doc?”