By Proxy (8 page)

He blinked twice in surprise and she jerked back, reddening. He leaned his head forward, smiling at her with a dawning realization and growing merriment. “Jenny! Were you checking me out?”

She swallowed and looked away, but not before he caught her mortified expression. Finally, staring at the keyboard and refusing to meet his gaze she answered in a small voice. “Yes. I-I guess I was. I thought maybe you were asleep.”

He chuckled at her admission, shaking his head back and forth, marveling at her candor, then nudged her gently with his elbow. “Hey. You check me out all you want. It’s fine by me, Pretty Girl.”

She looked up at him and smiled back tentatively at the endearment, still flushed from being caught. Her blue eyes sparkled against her flushed cheeks. “You think so?”

“I do,” he said softly, nodding.
Doesn’t she realize how pretty she is?

He reached up and pushed an errant lock of blonde hair behind her ear, tracing the shell of her ear and tugging on her soft earlobe with his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it gently between them.

She inhaled sharply and swallowed, holding her breath, unable to look away from him. He stared at her lovely face, flicking his glance to her lips.

“Jenny—” he started and leaned intentionally toward her.

For just a moment, he thought she was going to let him kiss her, and his breath caught for a split second in sweet anticipation.

“Wait!” She looked down sharply and he instantly dropped his hand from her ear to his lap. Her chest was moving up and down, fast and uneven, when she looked back up at him. “I barely know you.”

“I know.” He rubbed his hands together to keep from reaching out to her. “Sorry. I…I got a little—”

“Me too,” she interrupted in a whisper. She looked down at the keyboard again.

No games. No flirtatious comeback laced with innuendo. Her words were simple and honest, which made her more intriguing but also kept the ground moving under his feet as he realized it wasn’t familiar territory for him. Sexy banter was his forte, not simple honesty.

“You keep surprising me, Jenny Lindstrom.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Her eyes twinkled when she looked up at him shyly from under blonde lashes. She picked up her coffee cup and took a bracing sip. “Back to the task, okay? Let’s finish this up.”

“Go ahead.” Sam spread his arms out on the back of the loveseat, but was careful not to touch her, for her sake and his. He needed to cool down and think about what was happening here between them. As much as he wished he could, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her. He needed to figure out what he was going to do about it, and with only 48 hours between now and Monday morning’s appointment, frankly “
nothing
” seemed like the best answer of all.

Jenny kept reading: “…earlier than expected. However, we were able to make a Monday morning appointment with Judge Hanlon, so please don’t worry. We will let you know as soon as you’re married, so that you can celebrate. Much love, Jenny & Sam.”

“Sounds good,” he confirmed and stood up abruptly, anxious to get going. He needed to get away from her to clear his head.

She seemed taken aback to find him suddenly standing over her in a rush to leave and furrowed her brow briefly like she was trying to figure out the catalyst. Giving up, she shut her laptop with a click and stood up next to him. “O-Okay. I’ll drive you home.”

“Such that it is.”

He followed her to the front hall and she took his coat out of the closet and handed it to him, regarding him with her head cocked to the side in thought.

“You know? I had a really fun time with you tonight,” she whispered. Immediately, her eyes flew wide open and she clapped a hand over her mouth in dismay, seemingly stunned that she had actually said the words out loud.

He opened his mouth to say something reassuring, but she looked so adorable, he couldn’t resist: Whip-fast, without thinking he placed his palms flat on the wall behind her on either side of her head then leaned forward, tilted his head and pressed his lips to the hand she held over her mouth. That’s all he did; Sam kissed the back of Jenny’s hand.

But his body registered something else entirely.

Maybe it was being so close to her face, or assuming the position of a passionate kiss, or trapping her smaller, lithe form between his body and the wall, but the jolt he felt was like being electrocuted by a live wire. He had meant the gesture to be playful, but the sudden urge to haul her up against his body, or push her up against the wall behind her, was anything but child’s play. He leaned back slowly, breathing heavily, unable to release her eyes or calm the fierce intensity in his own as something big and unexpected yet palpable crackled between them. She stared back at him with wide, alert eyes, her face otherwise inscrutable, and he briefly wondered if she might slap him.

“Sorry, Jenny,” he said, dropping his hands as he cleared his throat, turning his eyes away from her. He buttoned up his jacket. “I think you’d better drive me home.”

When he glanced back up, she lowered her hand from over her mouth and nodded once, sidestepping around him to open the door. She rushed out of the apartment quickly, leaving him once again to follow behind.

***

After an awkward, quiet drive back to his motel, Sam was actually relieved to be back at the Lone Wolf Lodge. That in and of itself should have shocked the hell out of him, but he had bigger fish to fry.

He flicked on the light, assessed the dumpy room, kicked off his shoes, and fell onto the squeaky bed, staring up at the ceiling.

What a day. Waking up in Bozeman. Trying to do some work at the hotel before leaving for Livingston. Finally arriving at the courthouse. Seeing Jenny for the first time.

Jenny. He groaned and threw his arm over his eyes. No one, not even Pepper at the very beginning when everything was so damn hot,
no one
had ever gotten under his skin as fast as Jenny did today. How was it possible he’d only met her—he rotated his wrist to check his watch—
six hours ago
? It felt like he’d known her far longer. She was totally and completely genuine. You wouldn’t feel as though you actually
knew
someone who was less real.

He replayed Jenny moments from today like a slideshow in his mind: angry Jenny click-clacking through the halls at the courthouse, embarrassed Jenny when he took out his wallet, furious Jenny when they learned the wedding couldn’t take place, smiling Jenny who rocked his world as they left the courthouse, frightened Jenny gripping the steering wheel of her car, concerned Jenny who apologized to him while still shivering from her spinout, gullible Jenny whose voice was so nervous over the phone, townie Jenny walking through the streets of Gardiner, kind Jenny telling him her church prayed for Kristian every week, righteous Jenny at dinner staring down Tess, giggling Jenny when he lost their deal, poignant Jenny not wanting to take wedding vows more than once and finally, the Jenny who checked him out as he lay half-asleep on her couch. That was the Jenny whose hand he had kissed. He thought of her trapped between his body and the wall and felt a rush of blood heading to his groin. He groaned again, wishing it away
. At ease, pal. Not happening tonight.

He smiled. She was fascinating; he never knew what she would say or do next, and it was drawing him to her like a magnet after years of hearing girls saying what they thought he wanted, or what they thought sounded cool or sexy. Jenny was so authentic, it was separating her from the pack, making him want to take a closer look. His smile turned into a chuckle as he thought of her embarrassed face when he caught her checking him out, and then his chest rumbled with laughter remembering her admission of guilt.
Man, she sure keeps things interesting.

They were different, for sure. She was from a small town, a regular churchgoer, a schoolteacher. She was so genuine, so real, and she didn’t try to hide her emotions behind some aloof veneer. Sam admired those qualities. He had seen her be kind to people today, interested in their lives, and he was sure he’d see more of it tomorrow. She was a good, solid person and it didn’t hurt that she was also so pretty.

She was more pretty than cute, but something about her unaffected wholesomeness made her cute, too. It dawned on him that maybe, quixotically, it was her wholesomeness that made him so hungry for her. He was caught off-guard by his reaction when he kissed her hand: his blood had heated up in an instant and his heart had raced because he
wanted
her, and the surprising thing was, cute really wasn’t his style. Then again, he thought with growing uncertainty, maybe it was.

Before today, he had been enjoying his post-Pepper freedom. He’d had a few dates, mostly set up by well-meaning friends, and what he had really enjoyed was the thrill of meeting new women. Every pretty girl was a possible “someone,” and he found it exciting. In just a few hours Jenny was redefining everything he thought he was looking for, which was, in a word, disconcerting. It led to a thought that was not only incredibly inconvenient, but theoretically distressing: he couldn’t possibly be genuinely
interested
in her, could he? Sure, something about her might resonate in him, but he wasn’t actually
falling
for her, was he?

He got up and washed his hands and face, looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
No, you’re not. You’re not, Sam.
You could really hurt someone like that if you’re not careful.

He massaged his jaw between his thumb and forefinger.
You don’t belong here, and she certainly doesn’t belong in Chicago. Two different worlds, brother. Not to mention, this isn’t the type of girl you pursue for a weekend of fun, Sammy, and you know it. This is the marrying kind of girl. And if you’re not interested in that—and, let’s face it,
you’re not
—she’s not for you.

He took off his pants, sweatshirt and t-shirt and slung them over the desk chair, then slipped into bed. He turned the bedside lamp off and settled back on the pillow, lacing his hands under his head as he had at her place. When he closed his tired eyes, he saw her face in his head: those searching blue eyes so close to his face, staring into his eyes when he opened them. His gut constricted for a second with unfamiliar longing and he threw his pillow across the room in frustration.

She not for you, man. She’s not for you.

***

When she got home, Jenny flopped back on her bed without taking her coat off, her keys still jingling in her hand. She let them fall to the floor with a clunk. Still reeling from her time with Sam, she raised her hand to inspect it and with her other hand she gingerly touched the spot where he had kissed her, imagining it still tender from his lips. She circled the area with a feather touch, then closed her eyes and pressed it to her own lips, lingering for a moment before rubbing it gently back and forth against her cheek tenderly. Goosebumps popped up along the back of her arm, and her belly tingled unfamiliarly as she flashed back to his eyes opening under her frank assessment.
How could she have been so forward?
Alone in her room she felt her cheeks burn, remembering.

She hadn’t meant to be so forward. When she had glanced over at him, his eyes were closed, and she had wondered if he was sleeping. He looked so peaceful with his head resting on the back of the loveseat, hands laced under his head, one wing of elbow above her head. It occurred to her in that moment if he had straightened that arm, he’d have his arm around her. The thought had made her cheeks flush and her heart beat faster, and she had leaned into the fantasy, enjoying the rush of—what? Excitement? Curiosity?

No,
she thought simply.
Longing.

She had leaned closer, pulled to him, drawn inexplicably to his beautiful face; sharply angled cheeks that belied his mother’s Scandinavian ancestry, copper-toned blond hair that tousled wildly after their windy walk. A coppery-colored beard-shadow came in along his strong jaw after a long day.
Kelley. Hmmm. Irish
, she had decided, even though the reddish color could have come from either side. His lips were full and pink, and she liked how often they tilted up laughing and teasing. Her brothers, “the boys,” were a laughing, teasing lot and she adored them, but their eyes were icy blue, all three, not soft brown like Sam’s, which were a dreamy brown, really, with long, dark lashes that—

When his eyes had popped open, she had wished a crater would have suddenly opened up in the floor of her apartment and swallowed her whole. She shook her head back and forth on her bed, fresh humiliation just as sharp as it had been the moment he opened his eyes.

She was confident she had him all figured out right before they left the courthouse: slick, citified dandy with his expensive wallet and glib sarcasm. She was sure he’d hightail it back to Bozeman for the weekend, or worse, head back to Chicago, leaving her alone to find a proxy for Kristian. However, he had surprised her, which had softened her angry feelings and propelled her to accept his dinner invitation. Not only did he stay, he was willing to stay uncomplainingly near her in Gardiner so she could tend to Casey.

His gentle care of her after she had spun out changed her opinion of him greatly. She thought of him shrugging out of his warm coat and laying it gently over her, and a shiver of pleasure tingled down her arms, making the wrist of the hand he had kissed throb with her beating heart.

Casey yelped from the kitchen and Jenny knew she needed to let her out before bed. She sat up and shook her head, wishing her brain didn’t feel so overwhelmed with the events of the day.

“Come on, Little Bit, and let’s make it snappy.” She took Casey down the stairs and out the back door into a small fenced courtyard behind the building and sat on the stoop, waiting for her to do her business.

I love Montana.
When he had said that, her heart just about stopped beating for a second, because she had been thinking the exact same thing before he whispered the words.