A Fine Romance (9 page)

“Easy choice.” Gib’s low tone soothed as much as his thumb rhythmically brushing across her knuckles. “You don’t leave a lady waiting for five minutes, let alone all night. His behavior is inexcusable.”

The validation was a bit of a salve to her wounded ego, but Mira needed more. “Oh, it gets worse. Want to hear his reason? Sam needed to help his mother with her bunko night.” In perfect synchronization, they leaned back on their heels and stood. Ben looked at Gib. Gib looked at the ground and shrugged. Then they crossed and sat down, one on either side of her. What was going on? What happened to the righteous sympathy?

“There’s...more to Sam than meets the eye,” Ben said.

Gib chimed in right on top of him. “You shouldn’t judge him too harshly.”

“Wait. What?” They’d pulled a U-turn on their sympathy so fast she could almost smell the burning rubber. “Why? Why does he suddenly get a free pass as soon as I mention his mother? He’s thirty-one, not three.”

“It’s a long story. I’m not even sure if it’s our story to tell,” Ben said.

“Well, it certainly isn’t for
you
to tell. You’ve known Sam less than six months. Just because Ivy talks your ear off incessantly doesn’t mean you know all the nuances of Sam’s story and can do it justice.” Gib scooted into the corner of the bench to face Mira on an angle. “
I’ll
fill her in.”

They hadn’t begun the story, and she’d already had enough of this pussyfooting around. Mira wanted to pout, to lick her wounds and have them soothingly agree that Sam’s behavior was crappy. “This is ridiculous. Unless this tale ranks up there with Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, I’d say you two are overhyping whatever chapter of Sam’s life you’re about to recap.”

Ben pushed sun-streaked bangs off his face. “Sorry. We’re very protective of Sam and his mother. At least one of us pops in every day, and not just for the doughnuts. Kathleen’s a wonderful woman. Somehow she makes us feel mothered without feeling smothered.”

Mira had never experienced either end of that spectrum. Distant neglect and disapproval was a more apt description of her mom’s parenting style. What would it be like to have that sort of connection? Pretty darn awesome, she assumed. So now, in addition to being miffed with Sam, a certain green-eyed monster had also shown up at the pity party.

Solemnity darkened Gib’s startlingly light blue eyes. “After college, Sam worked full-time at the bakery. Then he got this notion that he wanted to make chocolate. Drove his father nuts for months and months, asking to go train with a master. Mr. Lyons didn’t see the point, and didn’t want to go back to the workload he had before Sam came on board. But finally, Kathleen talked him into it.”

“I’ve recently learned it is impossible to say no to the woman you love,” Ben said with a small, private smile. Mira wondered if a man would ever think about her and smile like that.

“Huh. Well, I’ve recently learned you are one whipped puppy,” Gib retorted. “As I was saying, Sam flew off to Europe to study with the best chocolatiers in the world. He bopped from France to Belgium to Switzerland.”

“You don’t say.” When Sam heard about her sailing in the Mediterranean, the man had shut down faster than a bar at closing time. And now she learned he had the money to roam from country to country at will? Where did he get off judging her? Sure, he’d apologized at the time, but this put a whole different spin on his reaction.

“Three months turned into six, turned into almost two years. That’s when Mr. Lyons had his heart attack. Do you remember that huge storm a few years ago? The one that shut down every airport in Europe for a couple of days? Sam got stuck. He rushed right to the airport after the first frantic call when they loaded his dad into the ambulance. All through the quadruple-bypass surgery, Sam wore a hole in the linoleum of the Belgium airport.”

“How awful. He must’ve felt so helpless.” Mira’s simmering resentment disappeared. What a horrible situation. If she knew one thing about Sam already, it was how much he valued his family. She couldn’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to do nothing but wait. Mira shoved to her feet and walked down the path. It was impossible to sit still and listen. The guys flanked her as Gib continued.

“When he got the call that his dad survived the surgery, he started to hope things would be okay. Spent the night on the floor with hundreds of other stranded travelers. By noon, everyone said no flights would be able to get out for at least another day. That’s right about when Sam got the next phone call. He knew from the number it was his mother, but she didn’t say a word. Just sobbed into the phone for an entire half hour. Sam was out of his mind. He didn’t know how to comfort his mother, and he especially didn’t know how to do it from another freaking continent. It was the worst day of his life.”

Mira walked faster, on the verge of jogging. She didn’t want to hear any more. Experiencing his pain even through a third party was almost unbearable. Desperate for a distraction, she focused on the surroundings. On her left was a hulking marble building that must be the Art Institute. Clustered in its shadow were students carrying sketchbooks and oversized watercolor pads. Pierced and tattooed on every visible inch of skin and all about twenty pounds underweight, they looked like the epitome of modern artists.

Relentlessly, Gib pressed on. “Sam never got to say goodbye to his father. In fact, the last time they spoke, they’d had a huge fight. Yet in the hospital, Mr. Lyons wouldn’t stop asking for Sam. Said he couldn’t go until he’d made things right with his boy. Mrs. Lyons felt horrible. He never would’ve gone to Europe if it wasn’t for her. She took on all this guilt about Sam and his father not being together at the end. Figured it was her fault Sam couldn’t say goodbye, and that her husband couldn’t be at peace when he died.”

“The woman’s got a heart as big as Lake Michigan. Too bad sometimes, that comes around and bites her in the ass,” Ben said.

With a hand at the small of her back, Gib steered Mira across the busy intersection toward the museum. “By the time he made it back to Chicago, it was the morning of the funeral. Kathleen had locked herself in her room and hadn’t spoken to anyone or eaten in two days. Sam’s little sister, Diana, pulled the whole funeral together by herself. When Sam got there, they both fell apart on him. He never got to properly grieve himself, he was so busy holding the two of them together.”

The heat pressed inexorably against Mira like a smothering velvet fist. Her head ached, whether from the sun or the oppressive pain of the unfolding story or the blare of car horns. This casual morning jog had taken one heck of a dark twist. She wanted to break away, run to Sam and hug him until they were both breathless. Instead, all three stood on the curb, waiting to cross again as taxi after taxi sped past. Gib raised his voice to be heard against the din.

“Diana was young and resilient, and bounced back in a few months. But Kathleen was a mess. She wouldn’t eat. She wouldn’t work. She wouldn’t leave the house, except for the twice-weekly therapist visits Sam bullied her into. Sam had to keep the bakery going all by himself. He worked crazy hours, doing the work of three people. Some of us tried to pitch in when we could, by manning the register during the early morning rush a few times a week. After a month, Kathleen admitted herself to the hospital. Well, Sam gave her no choice. He was so worried she’d just fade away. Paying off the bills from his father’s surgery, and then her hospital stay on top of it—well, money was super tight for a while.”

Finally Ben took up the story, words gushing out now that he could share what he knew. “Without telling Sam, his parents had taken out a second mortgage to help finance his trip to Europe. If the payments didn’t get made, his mom would lose her house—all because of him. He had to find a way to bring in more money. That’s when Sam upscaled the wedding cake side of the business. Lyons Bakery was known for delicious cakes, but the works of art he turned out almost looked too good to eat. He could charge triple their going rate, and still have customers offering huge tips just to get on his books.” Ben smacked his lips. “When you get the chance, take it from me and don’t just stare at a Sam Lyons cake. Eat every crumb of that deliciousness.”

“Watch out, mate. I know that look in your eye. If you nip over to Lyons for a slice this afternoon, I’ll make you pay for it with an extra twenty sets when we hit the weight machines tomorrow,” Gib warned.

Ben grabbed his ankle and twisted it behind him for a deep thigh stretch. “Why don’t I just join a real gym and get a trainer who doesn’t bully me?”

“Because I let you use the gym at the Cavendish for free?”

“Yeah, that’s the kicker.” Ben leaned behind Mira and gave him a playful punch in the arm. “I’ll do the weights, as long as we finish with a stint in the pool. What was it I beat you by last time—a lap and a half? Can’t wait to see if I can better that record.”

Gib ignored him as they crossed the street. “Things turned around for Sam after a while. His father’s life insurance finally made it through probate and fixed the cash-flow problem. Kathleen came back to work, only making outpatient therapy visits. But she was still so fragile. Sam’s entire life dwindled to taking care of her and the bakery. Diana insisted on following in his footsteps and going to Europe. We insisted he come to our weekly poker games through all of this. He needed the normalcy, the chance to hang with other guys and not worry about his mother’s nervous breakdown for a few hours.”

Passing between a cluster of hedges, Mira was suddenly transported. Clusters of low, leafy bushes and wildflowers were on the right. To the left, deep purple flowers made up a carpet for the backdrop of the downtown skyline. It was exactly the pick-me-up her spirits needed. “I love it here,” she exclaimed.

Gib turned to stare at the city. “Thought you might. Millennium Park’s one of the best things to happen to downtown in a long time.”

“This garden is too pretty to be spoiled by depressing reality. Is there much more to this story?” Mira asked. “If so, I might as well turn around and stare at traffic while you finish.”

Ben shook his head and pulled her deeper into the garden. “Nah, we’re finished bringing you down. Kathleen’s much better now.”

“They say that when you break a bone, it heals twice as strong.” Gib paused at a trickling fountain that dripped into a slow-moving, glistening trough. “She was broken, alright, but now she’s right as rain. Unfortunately, Sam’s having a bit of trouble accepting that. He’s too used to watching over her every second of every day. His mother’s independence is hard for him to trust. She had a lot of setbacks along the way. Let’s just say he’s got a hair trigger when it comes to her. And you’ve been the unintended victim a few times now.”

“I see,” Mira said. Except she didn’t. Not entirely. Sam dropping everything to go running the moment his mother blinked in his direction? Absolutely understandable. Now, she deeply regretted the fuss she’d made over him not picking her up at O’Hare. Given her new insight into his situation, it made perfect sense. What she couldn’t see was, given all he had to juggle, why Sam wanted to go out with her. Mira knew she could be a handful, especially when her temper slipped out. She’d been batting at him like a cat with a ball of yarn since they’d met. Didn’t he deserve some peace and quiet?

Gib pulled off his shirt and swiped it through the fountain. Mira tried not to stare, but it was hard. At Ben and Ivy’s rooftop party, his tailored clothes hung off what looked like a lean frame. But underneath he hid a sculpted chest artists would kill to immortalize in marble. No wonder he had such a reputation as a ladies’ man. Killer charm mixed with a killer body topped off with his royal accent made Gibson Moore a triple threat.

After a quick wring, he pulled the shirt back on with a shiver. “Easiest way to cool off without walking straight into Lake Michigan. Now let’s get this sorted so we can finish our run. Should Sam have stood you up at all? Of course not. Sam’s a decent guy. He doesn’t lead women on, and I’ve seen him act like a proper gentleman. But when it comes to his mother, you’ve got to give him some leeway.”

“You sure do know how to spin a compelling story.” Mira didn’t know quite what to say. He’d given her a lot to think over. A bit unfortunate, since the whole point of a good run was to not think about anything.

“We’ve lolled about in one place too long.” Gib began to jog in place. “Let’s at least get you to the Cloud Gate. You strike me as the type of woman who would appreciate a gigantic silver kidney bean sculpture. Then, if Ben looks like he’s about to swoon like a Regency debutante, we’ll take a cab back.”

Ben splashed water at Gib. “Stop bitching. You missed me while I was gone. Admit it.”

“You two are adorable.” Mira giggled. Every Christmas until about the age of ten, she asked her parents for a baby brother. It never panned out, but it looked like now she might have finally scored a pair of older almost-brothers. “Ben, if you ever break up with Ivy, you could move straight into a relationship with Gib.”

“Hardly. Putting aside the fact I could never leave my beautiful fiancée—”

“—And that I’m as straight as they come,” added Gib.

“—I don’t have the patience to wait in line. Half the city of Chicago wants to sleep with Gib. Of course, the other half already did. The man’s legendary.”

Mira appreciated the switch in topics. Their lighthearted banter gave her the chance to absorb Sam’s story. It felt good to pound her heartbreak into the asphalt beneath her feet. So much despair, so much pain. Sam Lyons must have the strength of ten men. Her respect for him soared higher than the antennas blinking red and white atop the Hancock Building. His resilience after so much tragedy acted like a magnet, drawing her to him. After their boat ride, she’d wanted more of his scorching kisses. Now she wanted more of all of him. And when Mira set her sights on something, she worked and clawed single-mindedly until she got it.

Chapter Seven

Sam wanted to walk out some of his nerves by pacing back and forth at the entrance to the Chicago Botanic Gardens. But his strategic hiding place behind a pillar afforded him a whopping fourteen inches of legroom. Which meant all his pent-up energy still had to go someplace.

Sure enough, his fingers tightened on the thick green stem he held until it snapped. Shit. He bobbled the hot-pink gerbera, just catching it before it hit the pavement. This is why he rarely went to the trouble of making romantic gestures, big or small. They were a pain in the ass. But after two bad starts with Mira and then canceling on her, Sam knew he needed to pull out all the stops tonight. He’d even ironed his lucky shirt.

If she ever showed up. Daphne had texted him five minutes ago they were pulling into the parking lot, and he still didn’t see them. Had Daph blown the surprise? Was Mira still so pissed at him she refused to get out of the car?

This was a stupid idea. A better plan for their date, the smart way to go, would’ve been a reservation at Spiaggia or Gibsons. Someplace that would make his credit card whimper. Someplace snazzy with candles and snooty waiters and, hell, chairs. What made him think Mira would want to spend the evening sitting on the ground?

“I’m going to run back to the car and grab my sweater.” Daphne’s voice rang out loud and clear. “Wait for me, okay?” It was the signal he’d been waiting for. Sam peeked around the pillar, trying not to get jabbed in the eye by the climbing rose. Mira stood near the entrance. A sleeveless denim dress clung in all the right places, and stopped gratifyingly high on her thighs. Her white sneakers were appropriate for tromping around the gardens. Combined with the short skirt that showed off miles of leg, they lent her a sexy cheerleader air. Sam’d had great success working his way through both the jv and varsity teams in high school. He hoped his luck in that department still held true.

Sam jammed one hand into the pocket of his cargo shorts, took a deep breath and left the anonymity of the pillar. “Hi.”

As she twisted around on one foot, her hair lifted and spun like a bullfighter’s silken cape. “Oh, hi.” Mira’s eyes widened, and a cautious smile bloomed. “This is a surprise.”

“That’s the idea.”

“Hmm, that could be good or bad. Is this a new reality show?” She made a big show of looking over both shoulders. “Am I being filmed? Have I been randomly chosen to participate in a treasure hunt through America’s public gardens?”

She hadn’t run away, or slapped him. Better still, she was teasing. A couple pounds of anxiety fell off Sam’s shoulders. They were off to a great start. “No. I leave all the true-life videography to Ben. But if you mention that idea to him, he could probably sell it to RealTV and get you some royalties. They’ll stick any reality crap on the air at that network.”

“Have you seen their new show that follows around people who work at amusement parks? There’s nothing exciting about watching someone remind you to keep your hands and feet in the car a hundred times a day.” Mira shook her head. “As much as I wouldn’t mind augmenting my income right about now, I’ll stick to the day job.”

A safe topic, as innocuous as skim milk. Sam leapt on it. “How’s that going?”

Mira cocked her head. “Is this the surprise? Because work-related small talk is more the norm than a surprise.”

Maybe they weren’t off to such a great start. “No. I’m the surprise.” Belatedly, Sam thrust the hot-pink flower at her. Mira took it, then looked toward the parking lot.

“Daphne’s not coming back, is she?”

“Nope. I arranged for her to bring you up here.”

She pursed the generous lips he so badly wanted to kiss. “Why the cloak-and-dagger routine? Why didn’t you just ask me?”

Should he admit Ben warned him how mad she was when he dropped in for his daily peach fritter? Or would that make him look worse for not figuring it out himself? “I canceled our date at the last minute. It was thoughtless, and I’m sorry. You’ve got every right to be upset. I just didn’t want to risk you not giving me another chance.” Sam refused to grovel. A man had to keep his pride. But hopefully he’d said enough to at least coax her through the turnstile. He couldn’t gauge her mood. Those bright blue eyes of hers weren’t sparkling or sparking. They were giving him a thorough once-over.

“Okay.”

Now he understood why his friends got frustrated with his usual low word count responses. What the hell was he supposed to get out of one measly word? Did it mean she wasn’t still mad? Or was still mad but accepted his apology? Men could barely understand women under the best of circumstances. The one thing Sam knew without a doubt was that if he interpreted it wrong, his window for kissing those glossy pink lips would slam shut for good. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, stalling for time. Then he realized he’d already bluffed once. The odds of it working again were slim.

“You’ve got to give me a little more to go on here.”

Mira bridged the distance between them and threw her arms around him. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Sam pulled her into a tight embrace. She smelled like flowers and felt like heaven. It left no doubt in his mind she wanted to be with him tonight. And it also left no doubt in his mind that he wanted to skip over the entire date and go right to the good stuff at the end.

The process of dating had always been fun for Sam, sort of like working a puzzle. He genuinely enjoyed listening to people talk. Mira’s combination of vulnerability, feistiness and dogged drive intrigued him. Even sparring with her was sort of fun, now that he didn’t have to worry about her clocking him again.

But with her tight body burrowed against his, all thoughts of giving her the date she deserved were smothered under one hundred percent, pure animal lust. If he lowered his hands just a few inches, he could lift her up and urge her legs around his waist. Then he’d back her up against a wall and kiss his way down from her cotton-candy lips until he discovered if her nipples were the same shade of pink.

Mira rose up on tiptoe to murmur in his ear. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Not even a little? I didn’t have to make the grand gesture with the daisy?”

“The daisy definitely earned you points. But I’m not mad because the guys told me all about your mom.”

Well. Nothing could shrink a hard-on faster than revisiting his family angst. The whole sex-against-the-wall fantasy disappeared faster than sugar stirred into boiling water. Sam dropped his arms to his side and pulled away. “This is awkward. On the other hand, it saves me from having an even more awkward conversation with you down the road. You know the whole story?”

“I think so. I’m very sorry for your loss, and for everything you’ve struggled with since your father died.”

Sam had spent too long mired in the darkness of grief. Grief not just for his dad, but for his mom, and for the life he’d given up. Now that he’d come out the other side, he didn’t want to dip his toes back in that black pool of despair. No matter how sincere Mira might be, covering old ground would merely ensure he wouldn’t pop wood for days. “Thanks. Can we agree not to talk about it anymore tonight?”

“Oh. Sure.” Mira tucked the flower behind her ear. “I love daisies.”

“Want to see some more?” He pulled two tickets out of his pocket and ushered her through the turnstile. “Ivy, as usual, was right. Chicago’s too big to take a bite out of by yourself. So I’m going to keep introducing you to bits and pieces of it.” Sam held out his hand, fingers spread wide in invitation. “If that’s okay with you?”

She interlaced her fingers into his and held on tight. “I’m game.”

“Figured as much. You don’t turn away from any challenge, do you?”

“I try not to. I’m still walking with you, aren’t I?” she sassed back. Sam interpreted the sass as a very good sign. He swung her arm in a slow arc.

“The Botanic Garden’s one of Chicago’s treasures. I thought I’d show you my favorite spot here. Hopefully you’ll be impressed. They’re no gardens at Versailles, of course,” he said, not entirely teasing. Her silver-spoon background still made him twitchy. As if no matter what he did with her, it wouldn’t measure up to everything else she’d seen and done in gilt-edged, diamond-encrusted circles. They passed the wide oval of the lily pond. Dragonflies dive bombed the water bugs skating between the flat, shiny leaves.

Mira elbowed him a short jab to the ribs. “Hey, if we can’t talk about your emotional baggage, mine’s off limits, too.”

“Fair enough.” Sam thought about it for a minute. Then he got distracted by the feel of her palm against his, and wondering what it would feel like cupped around other parts of his body. “So what will we talk about?”

“Hmm. Politics and religion are always good for a few rounds.”

Hardly. Talking about his mom’s stint in a mental hospital and Mira’s parents’ boatloads of money would be less contentious than those topics. Throw in a debate about capital punishment, and they’d have one heck of an evening.

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear when I gave you the flower. This whole night isn’t just a continued introduction to Chicago. It isn’t part two of Ivy browbeating us into coexisting well. This is a date. I only talk politics with Ben, and I only talk religion with people I
don’t
want to see again.” He angled them off the brick walkway to cut across the grass toward the rose petal fountain.

Mira shot him a sidelong glance from beneath half-lowered lids. “Does this mean you’re already planning on seeing me again? That’s a pretty optimistic stance, considering we’re only five minutes into a date you tricked me into going on in the first place.”

They strolled past massive pink-and-red rosebushes, a living wall of color and scent. Mira tugged him to a stop. They watched in silence as the water spilled unevenly off the fountain’s petal-shaped ledges. Since she arrived, he’d had trouble reading her. She wore an air of mystery, almost like she knew something Sam didn’t about tonight. Funny, since he was the one surprising her. Or was it that Mira thought she was the one pulling his strings? Well, he’d put a stop to that. Sam didn’t need to be in charge, but he did need them to be on even footing. Might have to step it up a notch already. He faced her and rested his hands loosely on her waist. And tried not to think how fantastic it would be to cup her rounded hips and rock her back and forth on top of him.

“I’m sure I want another date with you, Mira. Want to know why?”

She nodded.

“You’re like a cannoli. They aren’t chocolate, so I assume you’ve had one?”

She nodded again, with a mystified smile.

“Their outer layer seems both indestructible and brittle. Once you break through, the center is sweet and creamy, yet still studded with interesting surprises of nuts and dried fruit. One bite is never enough. Oh, and that dusting of powdered sugar makes them delicately beautiful. And you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Mira’s eyelids drooped heavily—the personification of bedroom eyes. A faint blush that matched the nearest rosebush pinked her cheeks. Then her tongue slipped out to moisten her lips. It did him in. Sam tightened his grip, pulling her so close he felt the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

“Don’t look at me like that. Like you could gobble me up whole,” Mira said. Her cheeks grew darker. “I might have to take action.”

Sam wondered if she was one of those ultra-feminists who got offended by an honest compliment. Damn it, was she mad or aroused? Why couldn’t he figure her out? “I chose this location carefully. We’re surrounded by nature, not knickknacks. There’s nothing here you can use to assault me.”

“Not true. There’s one thing.” Mira launched herself at him, throwing both arms around his neck. Instinct lowered his hands to her tight, curvy ass for a better grip. Sam barely managed to keep both of them from toppling into the fountain. He did stagger backward a few steps until the spray misted them lightly.

The heat of the late-afternoon sun on his back didn’t come close to matching the heat she kindled between them. Eagerly, Sam sank into those luscious lips. She took quick nibbles, even nipping. A zing shot straight down to his dick. Yeah, if this was her taking charge, sign him up for more of that!

With a final lick around the outline of his lips, she slid her tongue inside. And Mira didn’t stay still. No, she wriggled against him. He wouldn’t be able to hold on to her much longer. The heavy scent of roses twined around them like something out of a fairy tale. From now on, whenever Sam smelled roses, he’d feel Mira’s breasts tautly pushing against his chest. He’d remember the perfection of her kisses, and the silken glide of her legs against his. No doubt he’d go from zero to titanium-hard in two seconds.

She broke away first. “You were right. Another date is inevitable.”

Being right felt great. Not quite as great as kissing her, but Sam had plans to get back to that later. “Don’t jump the gun. We’ve barely begun the evening.”

Mira shaded her eyes with her hands and twisted to look at the sun. “Isn’t it almost closing time? Or did it already close?” She situated the now slightly battered daisy more firmly behind her ear. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any other people since I got here.”

Good thing, too, the way they’d gone at each other like hormonal teenagers. Sam took her hand again and guided her out of the rose garden. “I wanted you all to myself.”

“I can’t decide if that’s sweet or creepy.”

Just what every guy wanted to hear. Especially after pulling enough strings to make a skein of rope. Oh, yeah. Mira kept him on his toes. Kind of like walking over hot coals. He decided to brush right past her remark, and hope she’d lean toward romantic sooner rather than later. “The place closed early tonight. For ‘maintenance,’” Sam said, making quotation marks with his fingers.

“How on earth did you manage that?”

“I know a guy.”

Mira snorted. “Come on, you sound like a line from a bad movie. Wow me with how much effort it took to set this up.”

“Really, I went to high school with a guy who works here. No big deal.” Sam didn’t want to impress her with the details. He wanted to impress
upon
her the moment. It didn’t matter his supposed friend had extorted a baby shower and a birthday cake out of him in exchange for free run of the place. He didn’t want Mira to feel guilty if she found out both cakes were in a week when he was already overbooked.