Sam watched me walk through that dining room and he wanted me.
Thus began my multifaceted freak out because firstly, I didn’t know what to do with that intensity directed at me, my problems and Sam’s clear dedication to eradicating them which included Sam throwing serious money at accomplishing this feat. I also didn’t know what to think about the fact that Sam still wasn’t sharing. He seemed to, talking about his childhood not only to me but mentioning it to my Dad. But he didn’t share much, just nuances then he moved on. It was also dawning on me that I might be a little bit of all right which was something I hadn’t considered until Thomas said what he said and now definitely after Sam said what he said.
And lastly I was freaking out because I was falling in love with him. I knew it. And I knew from his words and deeds that he was committed to exploring what we had so maybe he was getting there with me too. But I also knew from his lack of words that he was holding back and holding back didn’t exactly say exploring what we had or falling in love because to start falling, you had to trust the person you were falling for to catch you.
I mean, I didn’t know, I was new to this, but I suspected I was right that everyone needed to trust the person they loved to catch them, even ex-commandos.
So, as I went about my morning, showering, doing the getting ready gig, unpacking, starting laundry and dealing with putting an ad in the Boothe County Gazette for my yard sale. Then I sat down and made a list of things to do. Then I unearthed some of the boxes I’d collected prior to going on vacation from the garage. Then I commenced in going through my kitchen and stuffing boxes full of all my crap, marking the box with bargain basement prices as well as tacking a piece of masking tape on furniture and repeat with the marking it gig.
And all the while I did this, my mind was consumed with all of this as well as Sam being with Vanessa which, I didn’t lie, I really did not like. Not because Sam might get creative with (and in trouble for) extracting information from her. Just because Vanessa was a bitch. She was a bitch in high school, she was a bitch after high school and she was a bitch after she got married to Milo, who was a good guy but who, even after they tied the knot, she made no bones about letting it be known to anyone who wasn’t Milo that she’d settled for him and was not pleased with the track her life had taken.
And, of course, there was the fact she put a hit on me.
It was two seconds after I realized I was seriously hungry in a hunger pains gnawing at the lining of your stomach kind of way when the front door opened and Sam walked through.
I was standing at the kitchen table now covered in filled boxes, so when my head turned that way I had a direct line and the instant I saw him, I went still.
Sam didn’t.
He stalked through my living room and into the kitchen, Memphis, who greeted him noisily at the door, yapping at his heels.
He ignored her, stopped and his enraged eyes scorched right through me.
“That bitch is a fuckin’ bitch,” he growled and I pressed my lips together.
Well, clearly Sam’s yummy aftershave didn’t work.
I forced myself out of my freeze and turned fully to him.
“What happened?” I asked carefully.
“She called the cops before I got up to her door.”
This wasn’t surprising.
“Did you get in?”
“Oh yeah,” his tone was scary, “I got in.”
Eek!
I pressed my lips together and waited.
Sam continued scowling at me.
Finally, I prompted, “Well?”
“Oswald is right now takin’ her to the Department. I wasn’t wrong. She’s got more. She’s coverin’ her ass. I know this because she was belligerent and not in wronged woman way, in a hidin’ somethin’ way. Ten minutes after I got in, the cops came. Five minutes after that, her attorney showed. He’s shut her down.”
“So you didn’t get anything?” I asked.
“Nothin’ but the fact that bitch sees, lives and breathes green. She hates you, baby, so jealous, it consumes her and me showin’ at her door only intensified that.”
I bet.
It sucked for Sam he had to share her air but I had to admit, I got more than a little kick that my protective, hot guy, awesome boyfriend showed at her door and rubbed her nose in the fact that I had a protective, hot guy, awesome boyfriend.
I did not share this.
Instead, I walked to him and wrapped my arms loosely around his waist, saying softly, “I’m sorry, Sam.”
His arms returned the favor and he replied, “I’m not.”
My head cocked to the side. “You’re not?”
“Kia, honey, she was the mastermind.”
I blinked.
Then I whispered, “What?”
“What you said, what Oswald said when he briefed me; your dead piece of shit husband was not the sharpest tack in the box. So this leads me to believe all this was her gig from start to what she still hopes will be the finish. It was her idea.”
Holy cow!