Any Man Of Mine (25 page)

On the surface, it looked like a nice family scene. Like Moclips. Mother, father, and child, and Autumn got that uncomfortably anxious feeling in her stomach again. Like the nice picture wouldn’t last. That at some point it would crumble at her feet.

She was no longer afraid that Sam would backslide and put his son on hold while he lived the hard-partying life of a popular athlete. Some switch had flipped in Sam, and he truly wanted to be the father Conner needed. But that didn’t make them a family. It never would, and she worried that Conner might get the wrong idea. That he might start to hope for things that just weren’t going to happen.

So far, he seemed okay. He hadn’t mentioned Sam moving in for a while.

“Your
h
is backward,” Sam pointed out to Conner, then he glanced at the screen and jumped up again. “Control the damn puck, Logan. Settle down and control the damn puck. Pass it!”

“Language, Dad.”

He glanced down at Conner. “What did I say now?”

“Damn.”

“Oh. I don’t think damn really counts.”

At nine o’clock, Sam put Conner to bed, and Autumn moved into the kitchen to answer the telephone hooked to the wall next to the refrigerator.

“Hey, sis.”

She walked to the sliding glass door, stretching the long cord. “Hi, Vince.”

“Are you busy?”

It was definitely not a good time for a visit. “Yeah. I’m putting Conner to bed,” she lied. “And then I think I’ll hit the sheets myself.” With Sam.

“At nine?”

“Yeah. It’s been a busy day.” She looked out onto the dark deck and the yard beyond. “What’s up?”

“I’m on a break and just wanted to ask you what to get Conner for Christmas.”

She smiled. “Well, he told me he wants Santa to bring him a Harley like yours.”

Vince laughed, something she didn’t hear often enough.

“I told him he wasn’t big enough, and he said I could ride on the back and put my legs down to hold us up.”

“Maybe someday, but in the meantime, anything else he wants?”

Even though he’d never admit it to himself, Vince was lonely. Why else would a thirty-five-year-old man call his sister at 9:00 P.M. to ask what his nephew wanted for Christmas? “He has his eyes on some Lego race cars.”

“That’ll be fun. Do you have to share him this year with the idiot?”

“The idiot” chose that moment to walk into the kitchen. Autumn spun around and put a finger to her lips. “Yeah. I think Sam has him in the morning this year.”

“I wonder how much it would cost me to have him killed.”

“Vince, don’t even talk like that.” She looked at Sam, standing there with his arms across his long-sleeved T-shirt, all belligerent. “I gotta go and make sure Conner didn’t put his jammies on backward.”

“Tell him I love him.”

“I will.” She walked back across the kitchen. “Bye,” she said, and hung up the phone

“Was that your brother?”

“Yep.”

“You didn’t mention I was here.”

“Nope.” She shook her head and looked over at him. “Vince hates you, and I just didn’t want to deal with the stress of that right now.”

“I had a sister once, too, and she had a man in her life that I absolutely hated.” He moved toward her and took her hand. “I understand your brother. I don’t like him, but I understand him.”

She
didn’t even understand her brother sometimes.

“I understand why he doesn’t want me in your life. I believe him when he says he isn’t going to let it happen.”

Her lips parted. “What? Vince said that? When?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head, determination crowding his brow. “All that matters is that you believe I’m not going to let your brother stand between me and my family.”

She took a step back. “You and Conner.”

“What?”

“Stand between you and Conner.”

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

No. That hadn’t been what he’d said. This wasn’t about family. It was about him spending time with Conner and having sex with her. It wasn’t about her falling in love and hoping for things that weren’t going to happen. It wasn’t about being a part of a beautiful wedding and a white-picket-fences and happily-ever-afters.

She moved into the living room, her thoughts a speeding mess. It wasn’t about eating dinner and Conner doing homework with his dad. What was she doing? And what if Vince found out she was sleeping with Sam? He’d blow a gasket, and she wasn’t so sure he had many more to blow. She was confused and raw and didn’t want to think about it. Not then. The next day, when Sam was gone, and she could think. “Why did you hate the man in your sister’s life?” she asked.

“Because he was a controlling son of a bitch.”

She moved to the big picture window and looked down at Sam’s red truck in the driveway. If they were really a family, it would be in the garage. Next to her Subaru. “What happened?”

He was silent for so long she didn’t think he was going to answer. She glanced over at him, standing in the middle of the room. A tall powerful man, a deep furrow pulling his brows together over his blue eyes. “He killed her.” He looked away. “When she finally got the nerve to leave him, he hunted her down and shot her.”

Her heart dropped, and she turned to face him. In an instant, her own thoughts forgotten. “Sam.”

“I was across the country enjoying my life. Living in Toronto, then—” He shrugged and glanced back at her. “Then my life stopped.”

Without thinking about it, she moved toward him. “When did she die?”

“June 13.”

The date was not lost on Autumn, and she recalled his mentioning something about his sister’s death in Vegas years ago.

“She was young and smart and beautiful and had a wonderful life planned for herself. She wanted to teach little kids.” He paused and shrugged a shoulder. “Instead, we had to plan a funeral and box up her stuff.”

Without thinking, Autumn wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his heart. “I know what it’s like to put a person’s whole life into boxes. I’m sorry.”

He was so stiff, like stone covered in warm skin. “She was my little sister, and I was supposed to take care of her. Our dad died when she was ten, and she depended on me. I helped her with her homework and bought her first prom dress. I was supposed to keep her safe. I didn’t.”

She’d never known any of that. She’d known his sister had died, but not the details. “It wasn’t your fault, Sam.”

“I know that now, but I felt so guilty and pissed off for so long.” He raised a hand to the top of her head and slid his fingers down the back of her hair. She felt his muscles relax a bit. “I still feel Ella’s loss. I still get pissed about it, but I don’t take it out on myself or anyone else so much these days.”

She listened to the heavy thud of his heart and turned her face to press her lips into his chest. She’d always thought Sam was superficial. Interested in momentary pleasure, and he was, but there was also something deeper behind his blue eyes. Something he liked to keep hidden. The boy who’d filled his father’s shoes and the disciplined man who’d worked hard to reach his goals lay beneath that charming smile.

“For years after that,” he continued, “I did some reckless, reckless things. You were part of that reckless fallout.”

She looked up into his face, at his strong jaw so tight.

“There are things in my life I regret. That I’m ashamed of. Probably not as many as I should be.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “But I regret Vegas.”

So did she. Funny thing was, not as much as she had a few months ago.

“Not that I met you. I can’t regret that, or I wouldn’t have Conner, but I do regret that I married you in a ceremony that I largely don’t remember. I regret that I hurt you. I regret that I didn’t act like a man. That I left you in a hotel without a word. With nothing but a marriage certificate and a stuffed dog. I regret that a lot. I feel a lot of guilt and embarrassment about that.” He pressed his forehead into hers. “I’m sorry, Autumn. I’m sorry I left you alone at Caesars.”

For the first time since she’d met him, he uttered the s-word. For the first time since she’d pieced her heart back together, she felt a small tug at one of the strings. She dropped her hands to her sides and took a step back. The one word she’d waited to hear could destroy her carefully reconstructed life. “Don’t.”
Don’t make me forget. Don’t make it better. Don’t make me love you again
. “I don’t want to like you
that
much.”

“You already like me
that
much.” A smile worked one corner of his lips. “I think lunch in your office today showed how much you like me.”

“That was sex. That’s all.” She shook her head and raised a hand as if to stop him. “No attachments.”

He dipped his head to look into her eyes. His smile gone. “You don’t think you can get past what happened in Vegas, do you?”

Could she? “I don’t know. I’m not very good at the whole ‘forgive and forget’ thing.” And if she did forgive and forget, what kind of fool would she be if it happened again? When it happened again? Sam was a hockey star. His life was huge. Hers wasn’t. “That was a time in my life I try not to think about.” Impossible as it was sometimes.

“Tell me about it.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t help but think about it, and I need to hear about it as much as you need to tell me.” He reached for her. “Because I’ve always wondered.”

She stepped back, and his hands fell to his sides. He’d wondered? He’d wondered, but he’d never thought to pick up the phone and ask? “I was scared, Sam.” She pushed her hair behind her ears. “I was scared and pregnant by a guy I didn’t even know. It should have been the happiest time of my life, but it wasn’t. Every child deserves parents who are ecstatic. Conner didn’t have that.

“While other women were going to baby classes with their husbands, I was getting divorced. What’s there to say beyond that?” Evidently a lot because the rest just poured out. “My mom had died a few months before, and Vince was off in Iraq or Afghanistan or South Korea or wherever. I hadn’t seen my dad in about ten years, and I was all alone. Sick as a dog and all alone. I didn’t have anyone. I didn’t know how I was going to support myself or my baby. You’re a man, so you’ll never understand that kind of fear.” She moved to the coffee table and straightened Conner’s papers. “I didn’t understand why any of it happened. I didn’t understand how I’d gotten myself into such a foolish position.” She fussed with his pencils. “And I didn’t know why you’d married me and dumped me. It was a very bad time in my life and I was”—she bent down to pick up crayons and pencils—“scared.”

Sam watched Autumn fuss over Conner’s schoolwork. Emotion flushed her smooth white cheeks and wrinkled her forehead. He’d hurt her. He’d always known that, of course. He’d just never known what to do about it. Until now.

“I really didn’t understand any of it either.” But he was beginning to. His instant attraction. The intensity of it all. He was beginning to understand that maybe, just maybe he’d fallen for a girl in a crowded bar. A girl he didn’t know, at a time in his life that was filled with crazy chaos. That maybe his heart had really shitty timing.

Every coach he’d ever played for, every captain he’d ever played with, had all told him the same thing: “You never learn the first time. You always have to get hit twice before you see it coming.” He was seeing now what he’d seen that first night at Pure. A bright shiny light he wanted to catch in his hands and hold forever. If she let him.

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” he said, “you’ve always scared the shit out of me.”

She looked up at him out of the corners of her green eyes. “Right.”

“It’s true. You’re so sure of yourself, and you don’t take crap from nobody. That’s kind of intimidating.” This time when he reached for her, she let him take her hands. “You’re a good mother and you run your own business. You could sit back and live off the money you get for Conner. Other women might, but you don’t. You work really hard.” He’d always admired that about her. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“You think I’m a good mom?”

“Of course. I couldn’t ask for a better mother for my son.” He smiled to lighten the mood. “And I’m not just saying that to get laid.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Thanks.”

“Thank you.” Then he thanked her the only way he knew how. He took her to her room and undressed her. He pushed her down on the bed and covered her body in kisses. He made love to her, and as he slid into her body, it felt like coming home after weeks on the road. Like he wanted to stay there forever.

He placed his hands on the sides of her head, and whispered into one ear, “Let me love you, Autumn.”

“Yes,” she said as she arched and met his thrusts. “Don’t stop, Sam.”

They were talking about different things, and for the first time in his life, he understood the difference between great sex and making love. For the first time in his life, Sam wanted more from a woman than she wanted from him.

Later, she lay in his arms, in the warmth of her bed and soft glow of good sex and two small lamps. With her back pressed into his chest, he ran his hand down her smooth arm to her wrist.

“You covered my name with wings.” He raised her hand and kissed her pulse. “Does that mean you think I’m an angel?”

She laughed. “A dark angel from hell.”

“When did you get my name tattooed over?”

“A few weeks after I delivered Conner.”

“Ouch.” He winced. “That soon? I at least waited.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “How long?”

“A few months after.”

She turned on her back and looked at him. Within the soft light, her beautiful green gaze met his. “Every person I’ve ever known who has had someone’s name tattooed on them has lived to regret it.”

“It wasn’t one of my better drunken ideas.” He smiled and rested his hand on her bare stomach. “It’s right up there with the Hound Dog wedding and that Cher concert.”

She laughed, a lush sound of pure pleasure. “Cher wasn’t as painful.”

“Says you.”

“How would you even know? You slept through it, and we left early.”

Maybe that’s why he didn’t recall the actual concert. He’d always blamed it on the booze and mental self-preservation. “Well, the good news is that Cher’s had about five ‘farewell’ tours since. Barbra, too.”