Temporary Home (24 page)

“What does that mean?” she tried again.

Laila shook her head. “I’m sorry, Roxi. That’s Sam’s to tell. All I can say is that I hated her from the day he brought her to meet us and it hasn’t changed. She did one hell of a number on him.”

“How long ago did they break up?”

“About two years ago.”

Her phone vibrated on the desk, screen illuminating a single word. SAM. She hit ignore and twirled her water bottle in a small circle. Two years. Did he still care for her? Didn’t appear so, but he could have been hiding his true emotions. Lord knew he kept them from her.

Be reasonable
.

Trouble was, her sanity was reaching the edge of reason and she didn’t have the energy or care to try to stop it from crossing that line. And it didn’t make sense. Biting the inside of her cheek, she took several deep breaths.

“Roxi?”

“Huh?” She glanced to Laila who had this look of confusion on her face. “What, Laila?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine. Just thinking about a few things.”

She balled up her sandwich wrapper and got to her feet. “Okay. Look, I hope I didn’t scare you with what I said about Tracey. She’s not a threat to you. I have to get going and clean up before getting back to work. Can you come for dinner tonight with the three of us?”

Not a threat. Roxi didn’t believe that for an instant. “Um, no, sorry. I have a bunch of stuff I have to get caught up on. Maybe some other time. Give my love to Dean, though.”

“Okay.” She hurried to the door only to stop and turn back. Laila stared at her with a quizzical expression on her face. Several times she opened her mouth only to close it again. “Bye,” she eventually said, before slipping out and shutting the door behind her.

“Fuck,” she bit off, slamming her bottle on the desk. Roxi felt sick. And not lightly nauseous but something which she should go home and curl up in bed to get rid of. How could this Tracey person
not
be a threat to her? Whatever their past was, it had a serious effect on her future. A future she wanted with Sam.

“Who am I kidding. We don’t have one. He’s only here until Christmas and then he’s gone anyway.”

Her phone vibrated again with the same name there. As before, she ignored it. The phone on her desk rang and this time she answered. A call from the vault had her up and moving as she shoved all mental distress to the back of her mind.

The rest of the day was torture for her. She just needed to leave and work out until her body screamed with exhaustion. Then sleep and start over fresh tomorrow. What to do? Her answer came at closing. A familiar face waited for her out by her vehicle in the parking lot.

“Hey, there,” she said with a smile. “I thought you were leaving? What brings you around?”

Lance hugged her and kissed her cheek. “In for another night. Want to get some dinner?”

“Yes,” she said on a sigh. “I would love to.”

“Everything okay?”

“Not even slightly. Where we going?”

“I’ll ride with you.”

They got in her vehicle and decided on a restaurant. Once there and they waited for their food, she filled Lance in on what had happened at Second Chances. He listened in silence then shrugged.

“So what’s the problem if there’s nothing between the two of them?”

She groaned. Sometimes he couldn’t see the forest for the trees. “That’s not the point, Lance. The point is this bitch may have ruined it for me.”

“Ruined what?” he asked, glaring at her. “You’re the one who’s all set to push him away. That ain’t that slut’s fault.” He looked around her, first one side then the other. “I don’t see a gun to your head and someone ordering you to stay away from him.” A shrug. “Unless they’re invisible. Are they?”

“Stop with the mockery. Patronising me is not appreciated.”

“Just not sure what you want from me, babe.”

“Support, you jackass. You’re supposed to be my friend.”

“I am. Which is why I refuse to let you wallow in self-pity. You love this man, and don’t bother arguing with me on it. We both know it’s true. So don’t let him go. Force him to face it. Christ, what, you want him to figure it all out on his own?”

“Yes! That would really be nice.”

Lance grabbed her wrist and lifted it, pressing a kiss on the inside. “You want this man, babe. Fight for him. That is the best advice I can give you.”

“Lance?” a male voice broke in.

Roxi cast a glance up and almost lost her breath. Cripes, he was gorgeous. Flicking her gaze between her friend and the newcomer, she smiled at the sight of admiration in Lance’s gaze.

“Troy.”

Lance laced their fingers and she arched a brow but held her tongue. A distraction like this was what she needed.

“Who’s this?” the man asked.

Disengaging her hand from Lance’s, she held it out. “I’m Roxi. And you are?”

“Troy.” The man shook her hand. Callused grip, strong and powerful.

“Nice to meet you, Troy. Would you care to join us? We’ve only just ordered.”

She tried not to wince as Lance kicked her under the table.

“Wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense,” she said with a wide grin. “Join us. I insist. Besides, when my boyfriend walked up the other day when Lance and I were eating, he said the same thing, so have a seat.” She focused on Lance, whose gaze shot sparks, and gave him a sugary sweet smile.

Troy joined them and she spent the evening enjoying herself. As she and Lance walked out afterwards, she linked her arm in his.

“I should kill you,” he growled.

“Now, now. I like him. Where did you meet a submariner?” She shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“So why didn’t you want him to join us?”

“You really can just be all kinds of nosy, can’t you?”

The food made her feel better. “Yep. Now, come on. Take me somewhere we can spar.”

He muttered under his breath as she tossed him the keys and headed for the passenger door. Not too much later he took them into a gym and they sat in the lot, engine idling.

“You sure you want to do this?”

“Yes. I have a bit of excess energy.”

He leaned in close. “We could always expend that another way.”

She finished the distance until they were nose-to-nose. “We could, except for one thing. Your type left the table after we finished eating a while ago. And your type happens to be my type.”

He cupped the back of her head bringing her closer still. “For you, I could make an exception.”

“Like, your second choice? I don’t do well as a second. You know this.”

He kissed her quick and backed off. “Fine. Burst my big ole bubble. Come on, wench. Let’s get in there.”

They hurried through the increasing cold into the older building. When she finally made it home, she was tired and sore. Sam’s truck sat in the spot she was used to seeing in the garage and she did her best to ignore the tug on her heartstrings.
I just don’t need complication in my life.

Chicken shit way out, perhaps, but she had to protect herself. And the words Laila had told her today had let her know that what she was beginning to hope for from Sam wouldn’t ever happen. It was because of that bitch who was with him.

The one you left him with
.

Not really words of encouragement, but her brain always had the worst timing and advice. Rolling her shoulders, she made her way inside. She didn’t look around as she went to the kitchen to pour herself a drink.

“What the hell happened to you?”

She sniffed and opened the fridge to grab a beer. “Rough day.” She didn’t even glance over at him for she knew it would weaken her resolve to stay further away in an attempt to lessen the attachment she’d formed. Yes, she knew she looked like crap. That sparring session with Lance had wiped her out.

After removing the bottle top, she tipped it back and drank with a groan of relief. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and walked out.

“Roxi?” he called after her.

She paused before her bedroom door and turned.
Shouldn’t have looked at him.
He wore a red shirt and jeans. Her mouth went dry and she itched to touch him. Slide her hands up his torso, indulging in the muscles along the way. Wrap her arms around his neck, hold him close, and allow his masculine scent to sink deep into her nose and skin.

“What?”

“Can we talk about this?”

Fingers clenching around the neck of the bottle, she arched a brow. “Talk? I keep waiting for you to do so, Sam, and all you do is clam up further. I am understanding, but even I need something on occasion. I think it’s better if this ends. I can’t afford risking emotions when it’s obvious you aren’t going to ever let me in. I get this Tracey person did a number on you but we’re not all her. Laila said you wouldn’t let anyone else in since whatever happened with her and that’s your decision, but it’s also mine not to let myself get hurt. Goodnight, Sam.”

“Wait, Laila said this to you?”

“Yes. I know I shouldn’t have asked her, Sam, but it seems you’re willing to talk to anyone but me. Even Tracey told me how you opened up to her and the two of you would spend nights talking after…well, you can imagine what she told me you did. So I asked Laila.”

Shaking her head, she went into her room and shut the door behind her. The click sounded so final. She closed her eyes against the pain streaming through her. His expression she couldn’t get out of her mind.
It’s for the best
.

Chapter Eleven

Sam swore a round of curses as he jumped from his truck. Four days from Christmas Eve and his life was just how he’d always expected it to be. He was lonely. And he hated it. Dean was doing better, that was marvellous. But there was a huge chasm between him and Roxi. That was what he despised.

He was still living in her place and she was nothing but nice to him. Yet he could tell she kept part of herself from him and it was tearing him up inside. He made his way into the house and smiled at the scent of cookies in the air. He’d gone to the bank first and they’d told him she wasn’t there. They’d come to know him now and talked to him like family.

So he’d gone home, needing to talk to her. He’d parked out in the drive and had gone through the front door, not wanting to give her a heads-up he was back.

“Are you kidding me, Laila? Seriously? Do you really expect me to wear this?” Roxi’s stressed voice reached him.

“Yes, I do. No, stop struggling. The kids need a Mrs Claus. And before you say you have to work, you don’t. I talked to Mr King and explained how we needed you there for the kids. Then I told him how I was the elf and couldn’t do that as well as Mrs Claus. He saw the thoughtfulness of what we’re doing for the children and agreed you didn’t need to work. So don’t even try that as an excuse.”

“Mrs Claus was a woman who didn’t dress like…like
this.
”

“She did last year and she does this year. And you’re more of Santa’s helper than Mrs Claus.”

“Helper my ass, I’m more like Santa’s slut in this. I can’t wear this around children.”

He frowned at the comments and entered fully. They weren’t in the living room so he looked to the right, down the hall. Her door was open and he made his way to it. All the breath in his body left him in a whoosh as soon as he saw her. Roxi wore a costume for the holiday season and damn if he didn’t want to unwrap her.

A plush, stretch red velvet mini, with a zipper front, large belt and powder-white faux fur trim. Her heeled boots had the same trim on them and the brilliance of it offset perfectly against her dark skin.

Blood thundered to his cock which stiffened and pressed against his jeans. He watched her turn slowly and a groan left him when he saw how the folds fell over her ass. Lord help him, he was thinking all kinds of naughty things.

“Hey, Sam.” Laila’s voice was full of amusement.

“Ladies.” His, on the other hand, sounded more like a croak.

Roxi’s head snapped up and their gazes locked. “Tell her, Sam, that Mrs Claus doesn’t dress like this. Especially when there are kids around.”

“I already told you, it’s what she wore last year. Just…well, she wasn’t as amply endowed as you, so, she didn’t quite fill it out like you are.”

“If she did it before why can’t she do it again?” Roxi sounded distressed.

“Because she’s eight months pregnant,” Laila said. “Tell her how good she looks, Sam.”

“No, tell Laila this is inappropriate.”

He glanced between the two women, even as he moved nearer. Not sure it was good idea to do so, but damn he wanted a closer look, a
much
closer look. The front zipper was open, allowing him to see the firm globes of her breasts.

“Where are you wearing this?” he asked, allowing his gaze to move appreciatively over her. God, to have those heels digging in the small of his back as he powered deep into her…

“She’s going to be your Mrs Claus,” Laila informed him with an impish twinkle in her gaze.

His? His Mrs Claus? How the hell was he supposed to have kids on his lap if he was sporting an erection that could split wood?

“In that case, I think it’s perfect.”

Roxi’s gaze narrowed on him and he chuckled.

“Seriously, Sam. We’re talking kids here.”

“They’re going to get presents. You’re Santa’s.” He crossed his arms. “And I must say, he is
most
appreciative of his present.”

Heat flushed her face and he knew she felt it too.

“Give us a few, Laila,” he ordered, not taking his gaze from Roxi’s.

She chuckled. “Somehow I think this will be a bit more than a few. I’ll be in the kitchen, with the music up loud. Don’t ruin the costume.” She left, drawing the door closed behind her.

“Don’t, Sam,” she said, her voice soft and sounding not all that sure.

“Don’t what? I’ve not done anything yet.” He prowled around her.

Roxi didn’t move. He felt her stiffen the closer he got. Lord, she smelt so good. He wanted her all over him. Stopping in front of her, he reached out and tucked some hair behind her ear.

“What are you doing?”