“I…” He’d had no words.
“I saw Sam leaving,” Maggie had continued, ignoring his mental tangle. “She wasn’t here to see Ava.”
“No, to see me.” He’d taken a deep breath and thoughts of Sam had eased the tightness in his chest.
Maggie had made a knowing sound. “Hmm.” A sound that encompassed all her womanly wisdom. “She’s a nice girl. I like her.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She’d patted his hand. “Does she know about Tonya?”
“No. No, and…please don’t say anything yet. I’m gonna tell her. But not yet.”
Maggie had nodded, and the look she’d tipped up to him had been full of sympathy. “Don’t wait too long though. She’ll forgive you for the baby – but not for hiding it from her.”
He’d known then, and he knew now, draped with sadness as he walked up to the Waltons’ back door. There was an expiration date on this thing he had with Sam, and it was entirely his fault. He really hated himself at the moment.
But he would enjoy what time he had with her. Shoving all negative thoughts away, he knocked on the back door, heart thumping hard against his ribs.
He heard a low murmur of female voices before the door opened, and then Sam stood in the frame, warm light spilling around her, turning her hair to molten gold. She’d unbraided it, and it was in loose waves down her back. He wanted to touch it, press his face into it. But her mother was watching, so he held out the wine and said, “Here, this is for you,” like a total dork.
She grinned, like she knew this was awkward, but was finding it sweet and amusing. “Thank you, that was…” Her eyes passed over the label. “Ooh, this is my favorite.” Her grin was warmer when she lifted it again, blue-green eyes flashing behind her glasses. “Thank you,” she repeated, her voice soft and just for him.
Never in his life had a woman looked at him like this. It was amazing.
Sam’s mother was standing on the other side of the table, her smile uncertain, arms clasped together as if she was cold. He shut the door, and then stepped forward, feeling green as a teenager, hoping his hand wasn’t too clammy as he offered her a shake. “Mrs. Walton, thanks for having me.” He imaged Maggie somewhere, approving of his manners.
Her hand was small and frail as a bird in his, but her smile struggled to be more welcoming. “I’m glad you could make it.”
Good.
“I’m looking forward to learning more about you.”
Not good.
“Here, sweetie.” Sam handed him the wine and a corkscrew, not seeming to notice she’d just called himsweetie. “If you’ll open this for us, I’ll finish getting the food ready.”
Opening alcohol he could handle.
He watched Sam covertly as he uncorked the bottle. She had sliced up some sort of meat that smelled fantastic and arranged it on a big platter, her movements precise and quick. She was used to being in the kitchen, getting everything just right. What must that be like, he wondered, to be the sort of person who did everything properly from the get go, and didn’t have to fix a bunch of mistakes?
Scuffing footfalls and overdramatic sighing heralded Erin’s arrival. She wore the standard expression of beleaguered teenage girls; Aidan had seen it plenty at school, but never on his sister. Ava had never been much of a teenager. He felt a momentary, retroactive respect for her, for the way she hadn’t annoyed the shit out of all of them growing up.
In contrast with last night, Erin wore jeans, a sweatshirt, and her hair tied up in a ponytail, her only makeup a touch of eyeliner and lip gloss. It was an improvement, in Aidan’s eyes. He resented the hell out of jailbait overdressing and acting legal.
Huh. So he wasn’t like his father inthatregard.
“Hey, Erin,” he greeted.
She folded her arms and shot him a murderous look. “So what? Are you, like, my sister’s boyfriend or something?”
He didn’t hesitate for a second. “Yeah, I am.”
Sam fumbled the platter of meat as she set it on the table, and a slice fell off into one of the water glasses. She recovered in a flurry, whisking the glass away, getting a fresh one. Aidan caught the distinct red tint to her cheeks and grinned. She was shocked; she was thrilled.
She loved him. This shy, serious, studious girl really loved him. And he’d almost missed it, in his own stupidity.
“Ugh,” Erin said. “Congrats, Sam, youfinallyhave a boyfriend.”
