I felt for him, he was really nervous and obviously wanted to be there just as obviously as he didn’t.
I looked back at Sam to see his eyes weren’t on the man but looking across our table to something else. I followed the direction of his gaze to see a heavyset woman with a peculiar hairstyle, her upper face behind a camera which was aimed our way, her lower face taken up with a mammoth smile.
“That your wife?” Sam’s voice asked and I looked back at him then the man.
“Uh… yeah,” the man answered.
“Right,” Sam replied. “Let me pay my bill, finish talkin’ to my woman and I’ll come over, Kia can take a photo of you and your wife with me. Your boy’ll probably like that shot better than whatever’s gonna come out of the ones your wife is takin’ with her finger over the lens.”
The man’s head snapped toward his wife as did my gaze and I stifled a giggle when I saw Sam was right. She was still shooting away but her finger was totally right over the lens.
“Oh… I…” the man started and I looked back at him. Then he finished, “You’d do that?”
“Sure,” Sam replied, the man smiled huge and my belly got warm.
“That would be… well, wonderful,” the man whispered. “I’ll, uh, let you finish up then.”
“Great,” Sam said.
“Ma’am,” he said to me and dipped his head.
I smiled at him.
He rushed back to his wife.
I looked at Sam who was watching him go with an expression I couldn’t read and this was because his face was carefully blank.
“That was nice of you,” I noted cautiously and his eyes came to me.
Uh-oh.
His eyes were easily read. He was pissed.
“You know,” he said quietly, his voice rough with quelled anger, “I’d really like to know who wrote that fuckin’ book so I could hunt their ass down and rip their goddamned head off.”
Oh man.
“Sam,” I whispered, squeezing his thigh.
“No joke, Kia. Honest to God, seriously? I’m at a restaurant, wrapped around my woman, clearly havin’ an important, private conversation and they think it’s okay, it’s fuckin’ fate, for fuck’s sake, that they can interrupt us?”
“He was really nervous, honey.”
“Yeah, I’m not feelin’ this about him. He didn’t wanna be there. I’m feelin’ it for her, who’s right now takin’ photos of us, baby, still, but her finger is no longer over the lens.”
I felt my eyes get big and I breathed, “Really?”
“Uh… yeah.”
Oh man.
“Do you get that a lot?” I asked.
“Uh… yeah,” he answered.
Wow. I mean, I figured it happened and maybe even a lot. I’d just not experienced it before and, although not unpleasant, this was because it was a novelty to me. If it happened all the time, it would get very old, especially when Sam was, as he said, wrapped around me and we were having an important conversation, something our position and body language said and it was something no one could misread.
“Even if you were still playing ball –” I started, trying to find some way to soothe him but he shook his head.
“Tripled since I got outta the Army and that book came out. It happened when I was playin’ ball, definitely. But nowhere near as bad. By now, I’d be retired or lookin’ at it and also lookin’ at a future where eventually that shit would fade and become rare. I was good, people know me, they’d recognize the name, but it wouldn’t be commonplace. Now, who knows? I just know it’s been over a year since that book was published and it hasn’t died down, not even a little bit.”
I was confused.
“So why did you say you’d have your photo with them?”
“’Cause he wasn’t lyin’. His kid likes me and his kid is goin’ in the Army and his kid could see and do some serious shit because he admires me and wants to follow in my footsteps. That’s a responsibility, honey. And his kid’s facin’ that and if he gets a kick outta havin’ a photo of his parents with me, it takes five minutes of my time, I give it.”
Without my brain telling it to do so, my hand lifted to cup his jaw and then I leaned into him and I found myself touching my mouth to his before I started to pull back.
I didn’t get far. Sam’s hand at my waist shot up, wrapped around the back of my neck and held me there.
I bit my lip and stared into his eyes which were now a lot less angry.
And after our day, after how he’d been kind to that man and why, I decided to share another secret.
“I like you, Sam Cooper, like a lot,” I whispered. “You’re not a good man. You’re a really good one.”
“Remember that, baby,” he returned instantly. “That feelin’ you got about me right now, remember that ‘cause that’s what you get from me too and honest to God, whatever this is and wherever this goes, I promise, that’s all you’ll get from me.”
He held my eyes and I let him.
He was making a point, a point he’d made with everything he’d said and everything he’d done since the very second I met him.
A point, right then, I finally got.
Then I nodded.