Against the Sky (15 page)

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Authors: Kat Martin

BOOK: Against the Sky
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“And who are the guys taking all that money home with them?”
“Good question.”
“Sorry, I can't help you with that. I'm only an accountant.”
“You did good. Thanks, Lisa. You're a gem.”
“That wasn't what you said last year when you dumped me.”
“I didn't dump you. I thought we parted friends.”
“Friends with benefits. I guess that's all we ever were.”
It was true. As beautiful as Lisa was, she just didn't do it for him, except in bed. He had no complaint there. “Whatever we are, I really appreciate your help.”
“No problem.” Her voice lightened. “Let me know if you need anything else—anything at all—if you know what I mean.” Lisa hung up the phone.
As Nick set his cell down next to his computer, he couldn't help comparing Lisa to Samantha. Physically, they were completely different, Lisa tall, slender, and athletic, Samantha petite and curvy, softly feminine. Lisa was a party girl, Samantha more of a homebody. He couldn't figure what it was that drew him to her so strongly, made him want her the way he did.
And the longer she was there, the better he got to know her, the more he worried they were completely unsuited.
He was ex-military. Ex-cop. No matter what job he took, that would never change. Samantha was a city girl, sweet and naïve and completely unfit for a life in Alaska.
Hell, completely wrong for a hard man like him.
On the other hand, she was carrying his child. He had a duty to that child, a responsibility. He wasn't about to ignore it.
The arguments went round and round in his head until he got up from the chair and padded over to his dresser. He needed some exercise, needed to go out for a run, come back and push a few weights.
Changing out of his jeans into a light gray, hooded sweatshirt and sweatpants, he shoved his feet into a pair of running shoes and headed for the door. He always thought more clearly outside, and Samantha wouldn't be back for a while. Nick headed down the front steps and started jogging along the road.
Chapter Seventeen
Walking next to the cart Mary was pushing down the aisle of the Wasilla Target store, Samantha watched the tall woman picking up items to replace the ones that had been destroyed by the fire and the water from the effort to stop it.
Mary picked up a new burgundy bathmat for her powder room. “I love this color. It doesn't match what's in there now, but I was thinking of making some changes anyway.” She tossed a set of matching towels into the cart. “I'm beginning to think of the house as mine and Jimmy's, not Alex's. Might as well do it now.”
“That shade is going to look great with the wallpaper. You should pick up a few accessories to go with it, maybe a soap dish and dispenser, something like that.”
“Good idea.”
As Mary set to work choosing items, Samantha couldn't help thinking of Nick's house and how much cozier it would look with just a few simple touches. Spotting a pair of powder-blue curtains that would work perfectly with the towels in his guest bath, she reached over and picked them up. Nick only had an old-fashioned roll-down vinyl shade there now. She wondered if he would be angry or pleased if she bought the curtains, decided to find out and tossed them into the cart.
“I need a new rug for the entry,” Mary was saying. “There's soot and dirt all over the old one—plus it's waterlogged. But I don't think I'm going to find the right thing here.”
“I don't think so either. You need something that'll fit the log house theme of your home. You'll probably need to go somewhere that specializes in that kind of thing.”
“They're building a Cabela's not too far away, but it isn't open yet. They might have something like that.”
“Maybe. You could probably shop for it online.”
“Oh, that's a great idea!”
As they continued down the aisle, Samantha spotted some interesting brown-and-turquoise kitchen curtains done in an Indian design. They looked masculine yet warm, and Nick didn't have anything covering the windows over the kitchen sink.
She picked up a package, guessed the size and figured they would probably fit, tossed them into the cart, then found the rods she would need in order to hang them and those in the guest bath. She would give the curtains to Nick as a gift. That way he couldn't refuse them. If he hated them, she'd bring them back.
“You're buying curtains for Nick's house?”
“Yes, but I'm not sure he'll want me to put them up. You know how men are.”
“Those look like a guy. I think they'd be great.”
“I guess we'll see.”
“Are you . . . are you thinking of moving in with him?”
Samantha laughed. “Are you kidding? I work in San Francisco. I'm only visiting. Nick and I are just friends.” Even as she said the word, it sounded funny on her tongue. She wasn't sure exactly
what
they were, but with a baby coming, they were way more than friends.
Mary cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. “I've seen the way he looks at you. Like you're dessert and he wants to eat you up. And if you don't mind my saying so, that's the same way you look at him. Or am I just imagining things?”
Samantha sighed. “It's complicated. Nick and I. . . . I guess you could say we're in lust. We met in Las Vegas. The attraction we felt when we were there brought me here, but it can't go any further.”
“Because you work in San Francisco?”
“It's more than that. My life is there. My family lives nearby. Besides, it takes a special person to live in Alaska. Clearly, I'm not that person.”
“I was kind of hoping you'd be staying. I'm new to the area and female friends are hard to find. It's really a shame you have to leave.”
Samantha felt an unexpected pang. “Yes, I guess it is.”
On the way to the register, they passed the baby department. For the first time, Samantha felt the urge to prowl through the racks loaded with tiny garments, miniature shoes, sweaters, and down-soft blankets. It took all her will not to pick something out.
Which was crazy, since she had no idea if the child would be a boy or a girl. So far she'd been lucky. No morning sickness at all, not even tenderness in her breasts. But she was still in the very early stages.
They continued toward the check-out, and Samantha turned her thoughts in a different direction. “So what about you and Cord?”
Faint color rose beneath the high bones in Mary's cheeks. “He's really been nice.”
“I would have figured him for a real heartbreaker, but he doesn't seem that way with you.”
“He doesn't?”
“No.”
“I could say the same for your Nick.”
He wasn't her Nick, but Samantha didn't point that out. “I think he has a lot of women chasing after him.”
“Maybe. But so far none of them have caught him.”
Samantha smiled. “Even if I caught him, I'd have to let him go.”
Mary grinned. “Sort of a catch-and-release kind of guy.”
Samantha laughed. “Exactly.”
They reached the register and separated their purchases, paid for them and carried the bags out to the car. The clouds had rolled in and the temperature had dropped dramatically since they had gone into the store. Shivering as they crossed the parking lot, Samantha wished she'd done a little more research on the weather and brought a heavier jacket.
“It's freezing out here,” she said as they climbed into Mary's white Subaru.
“The weather is really crazy up here. You never know what's going to happen. The forecast says we might get snow sometime this week.”
“You're kidding, right?”
Mary just laughed. “You get used to it.”
But Samantha knew she never would make it in the wilds of Alaska. She ignored the hint of regret that tightened her chest.
As the car pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward Fish Lake, she turned away from the beautiful mountain scenery outside the window and glanced over at Mary. She and Mary were bonding. Maybe now was a good time to have a conversation about Mary's brother-in-law, Alex Evans.
“So how's Jimmy doing?” she asked, easing into the subject.
“Okay, I guess. Lately, he seems worried. I wish I knew what was going on.”
What was going on was that the boy had been abducted and threatened and his house had been set on fire by the men who had killed his dad. But Samantha couldn't say that.
“What was his father like?” she asked instead.
Mary kept her eyes straight ahead, but Samantha noticed her fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Alex loved his son.”
“I believe that. You can tell by how much Jimmy loved him that he must have been a very good father.”
“Yes, he was.”
“Alex was married to your sister. Was he a good husband, too?”
Mary kept her eyes on the road. “Alex was obsessed with Cora. She was beautiful. Not as tall as I am, but her figure was perfect and her face could have graced any fashion magazine.”
Easy to believe, since Mary, with her long, jet-black hair, high cheekbones, and sculpted lips, was equally lovely.
“From the moment Alex saw Cora, he had to have her. He was devastated when she was killed.”
“Sounds like quite a romance. He must have swept your sister off her feet.”
“You could say that. Alex asked her to marry him and Cora agreed. She didn't have any other choice.”
A frown formed between Samantha's brows. “Was she pregnant?”
Mary started shaking her head. “It doesn't matter why she married him, and I'd rather not talk about Alex or my sister. From here on out, Jimmy's welfare is what's important.”
Guilt washed through her. She really liked Mary. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry.” Well, she did, but only to help Nick and Jimmy with their investigation.
“It's all right.” Mary smiled weakly. “It was just girl talk.”
“That's right.” But Samantha's mind was leaping ahead, wondering what had forced Cora George to marry Alexander Evans. Every day, the mystery of his death seemed to get murkier instead of clearer.
Mary dropped Samantha off at the house, her arms full of the purchases she had made.
“We'll have to do this again before you leave,” Mary said through the open car window, apparently forgiving her for prying into her life.
“I'd love that. Maybe you and Cord could come over one night for supper.”
“Maybe,” Mary said noncommittally.
Samantha waved as she hurried off, shivering all the way to the front door. It was unlocked, but when she went inside, Nick wasn't home.
Since his car was still in the garage, she didn't think he had gone very far. He liked to get out in the fresh air, so maybe he'd gone for a run. Wherever he had gone, it gave her the perfect opportunity to put up the curtains she had bought.
Samantha grinned. Finally warm again, she set to work.
 
 
Nick jogged up the walkway, slowed to climb the front steps, crossed the porch and opened the door. He hadn't meant to be gone quite so long, but the air was crisp and clean and the exercise had cleared his head.
He glanced up as he walked across the living room and stopped dead in his tracks. Through the doorway into the kitchen, he could see Samantha standing on a ladder at the sink. He watched her a moment, hardly able to believe his eyes.
What the hell?
Those were curtains she was hanging!
Anger swept through him. They were supposed to be figuring things out. Working on the details, getting to know each other. Baby or not, no way was she moving in, taking over his house, his life. What the hell did she expect from him? Whatever it was, it wasn't going to happen.
He stormed toward her. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”
Samantha shrieked and the stepladder tipped sideways. Nick rushed forward and caught her as she tumbled toward the floor. Swinging her up, he set her firmly on her feet.
“You shouldn't be up on a ladder in your condition. You almost fell and hurt yourself. I asked you what you're doing.”
Samantha set her hands on her hips. “Until you scared the holy bejesus out of me, I was hanging curtains.”
“I see that.”
“I found the stepladder on the back porch. Along with your toolbox. The hammer and screwdriver were in there. I didn't think you'd mind if I borrowed them.”
He couldn't seem to get his mind to work, to understand why Samantha would be hanging curtains in his kitchen. “Why? We haven't even talked about the baby. I can't believe you're already moving in and changing things around.”
Those big brown eyes went wide and hot color rushed into her cheeks. “It was supposed to be a gift! I have no intention of moving in with you—not now or anytime in the future. You didn't have any curtains in here. I saw these at Target and thought they looked like something you'd like. I figured if you didn't, we could take them back and you could pick out something else.”
Turning, she marched past him out of the kitchen, off down the hall to the guest room. Nick winced at the sound of the door slamming behind her. He looked over at the window. The curtains were turquoise and a warm shade of brown. There was an Indian design and nothing feminine about them.
And the kitchen did look better, cozier, the way a home should be. He'd told himself he'd get around to adding a few decorative touches, but he really had no idea where to begin.
He looked back at the curtains that fit the kitchen and his taste perfectly, blew out a long, slow breath. He was an idiot.
Heading down the hall, he knocked on the bedroom door. “Samantha? Honey, can I come in?”
“Go away.”
No way was that happening. He opened the door and walked into the room, saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, her face wet with tears.
“I'm sorry. I like the curtains. They're a great gift, nice and masculine, the perfect color, exactly what I would have chosen.” If he ever picked out a pair of curtains, which he never would have.
“I wasn't thinking,” she said tearfully. “I helped my brother decorate his apartment. I thought it would be nice to help you, too.”
“Please don't cry.”
She glared up at him. “I'm pregnant. It's hormones. I hate crying. It's one of the reasons I didn't want to be pregnant in the first place.”
His mouth edged up. He felt an unexpected surge of protectiveness that made him want to hold her. He could see by the look on her face that wouldn't be a good idea.
She wiped away the wetness on her cheeks. “I'll take them down.”
“Leave them. I like them. I really do.”
Her features softened. Damn, she was pretty. She had one of those faces that was so cute you didn't get it right away, but then you did. Soft pink mouth, big brown eyes. He loved the way those fine curls felt in his hands. Just looking at her made him start getting hard.
“You really like them?” she asked. “You aren't just saying that?”
“No. I mean, yeah, I really like them.” And the funniest thought had struck him as he'd stood there staring at the curtains on his window. His house felt a little more like home.
He walked toward her, drew her up off the bed and into his arms. “I'm sorry, honey. Forgive me?”
She pushed him away, not quite ready to forgive him yet. “I don't want to move in with you, Nick. I didn't come here for that.”
“I know.” So why did the thought not sound nearly as terrifying as it had just minutes ago?

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