Fortune Finds Florist Read online

  “You know the rules.”

  Quick as bunnies the twins hopped up and began clearing the table, even Kim with her injured arm. Tyree flashed a surprised look at Sierra, then pitched in, taking a plate from Kim. Sierra felt torn between irritation and pleased surprise.

  “They really don’t have to help clean up,” she began, but Sam lifted a hand.

  “Yes, they do. That’s how it’s done at our house. Somebody cooks for them, they help clean. That way everybody contributes and everybody feels good about themselves. Lana and Chet taught me the importance of that.”

  Sierra gulped. She’d never thought of it that way. She’d always thought she was sparing Tyree unpleasantness by not insisting that she help clean up. That couldn’t be why Tyree always balked at picking up after herself, could it?

  Sierra had the answer to that a few moments later when the girls returned from the kitchen and Sam said, “Better get on about clearing away your toys. We have to go soon.”

  Kim and Keli started happily scampering away. Only Tyree remained to sullenly argue. “Can’t they stay a little longer? We’re not through having fun yet.”

  “No, ma’am,” Sam replied evenly. “The girls have homework to do and baths to take before bedtime.”

  “Well, when can they come back?” she wanted to know.

  “I’ll discuss that with your mom.”

  “Soon. Pleease,” Tyree wheedled. “Tomorrow!”

  “Not tomorrow,” Sam said, “but before long.”

  “Mom!” Tyree protested.

  “Come on, Tyree,” Kim said, coming back to snag Tyree by the hand.

  “But—”

  “Come on,” Kim insisted, tugging on Tyree’s hand. Reluctantly, Tyree allowed herself to be towed toward the doorway. Embarrassed by her daughter’s persistence—why hadn’t she realized how poor Tyree’s manners were?—Sierra kept her mouth shut. Abruptly, Tyree dug in her heels, though, and turned back.

  “They can come to my birthday party, can’t they? I want them to come to my birthday party. Please, Mom. Make him say yes.”

  Sierra glanced at Sam uncomfortably. “It’s not until the end of March.”

  “We’ll see,” Sam said, noncommittal.

  Tyree stuck out her chin, but before she could open her mouth to argue again, Kim and Keli took her by the arms and literally propelled her toward the doorway, whispering fiercely. To Sierra’s relief, Tyree went along without another word.

  “I’m sorry,” Sierra began. Sam resumed eating. “She’s not usually so…”

  “Demanding,” he supplied after a moment.

  Sierra felt a spurt of indignation. “Tyree hasn’t had the influence of a father.”

  “And my girls haven’t had the influence of a mother,” Sam said matter-of-factly. “You wouldn’t be saying dads are more important than moms, would you?” Sierra opened her mouth. Then closed it again. “I didn’t think so.” He set aside his fork and folded his arms against the edge of the table, regarding her frankly. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you how to raise your daughter. Your rules are your rules, and mine are mine, but my girls obey my rules. Okay?”

  Sierra nodded mutely. He picked up his fork and swiftly, systematically cleaned his plate. Sierra left him to it, loading the washer with the rinsed dishes that the girls had stacked in the sink. She came to some conclusions while she did that. His rules seemed to work better than hers. Kim and Keli were delightful. She walked back into the breakfast room drying her hands on a damp dish towel.

  He cleaned his plate and drained his glass of the last drop of tea. When he set the tumbler down onto the corner of the place mat and leaned back in his chair with a sigh, she asked, quite sincerely, “How’d you get so smart?”

  His mouth quirked up on one end. “I went to a good school. That would be the school of hard knocks. Heard of it?”

  Sierra chuckled silently and shook her head. “Speaking of school, I was thinking I could pick up the girls from school one day next week when I pick up Tyree, if that’s all right with you. I promise we’ll play by your rules.”

  He shrugged, but he was grinning. “How about Tuesday? Kimmy gets her stitches out on Wednesday, and Lana takes them to the library on Thursdays.”

  “Tuesday it is.”

  “I’ll have the school put your name on the pickup list.”

  “Okay. Yeah, do that.”

  “All right then.” He got up, placed his utensils on his plate and carried it, along with the iced tea glass, to the kitchen sink. He rinsed the dishes and left everything on the counter. Sierra just watched, liking the easy way he moved around the place. Sam Jayce, she mused, was a man very comfortable in his own skin. He was not, however, so comfortable alone with her.

  She wondered if he would mention the kiss, or if he might even repeat it. He turned his back to the counter and leaned against it, his arms spread out and compactly muscled hands resting lightly on the edge of the countertop behind him. Her heart sped up. Broad-shouldered, slim-hipped, long-limbed, Sam Jayce was a potent hunk of young man, even dusty and sweat-stained.

  “That was a mighty fine dinner, Sierra. We don’t usually eat so good.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No. Thank you. For everything. For coming after me, for hanging around the clinic when Lana got called away, for putting up with the girls. Dinner, of course.”

  “You’re welcome, Sam,” she told him. “As for the girls, we enjoyed having them here. You, too. It just feels…right.”

  As soon as the words were out, she knew it was the wrong thing to say, the exact wrong thing to say. He straightened away from the counter, rubbed his hands against his thighs, caught his breath, frowned, smiled, caught his breath again. “Well, we better get going. You want to call the girls down? Or maybe I should just go up and get them.”

  “No, I’ll have them come down,” she said, crossing the room to the intercom recessed above a small built-in desk. She flipped a switch and pushed a button, speaking into a small microphone grate. “It’s time to go, girls. Come down to the kitchen, please.”

  A second later, Tyree’s plaintive voice came through the system. “Mooom.”

  “Right now,” Sierra said firmly. “Sam’s waiting.” She turned off the mike and turned a wryly apologetic smile at Sam.

  “Man, they’ve got some wild gadgets these days,” he muttered, glancing at the intercom. Sierra just nodded. “I figure most of it’s more trouble than it’s worth,” he went on, then blinked and added, “That, uh, seems useful, though.”

  “It’s handy in a house this big,” she said, intensely aware of the tension.

  He looked like he wanted to crawl into a cupboard. Several awkward moments later, the girls came into the kitchen chattering. The twins flanked Sam, and Tyree came straight to Sierra, a pleading expression on her face. Before Tyree could beg for more time, Sierra slipped an arm around her shoulders and informed her that the girls could come over again on Tuesday.

  “Cool,” Kim announced, sliding her injured arm into the sling hanging loose about her neck.

  “Can I bring my baby doll, Sam?” Keli asked, looking up at him.

  “Sure, sweetie. Now what do you say to Ms. Carlton?”

  “Sierra, please,” she corrected, looking to Sam, “if that’s permissible.”

  Sam looked uneasy, but he acquiesced. “What do you say to Sierra?”

  “Thank you. We had a very nice time,” the twins chorused.

  “And dinner was real good,” Kim added.

  Keli glanced up at Sam, qualifying anxiously, “You cook as good as Sam.”

  Sam laughed at that. “She cooks a whole lot better than me, sweetie, and I’m not a bit shy of saying it.” He nodded at Sierra and herded the girls toward the back door. “Thanks again. Good night.”

  “See you Tuesday!” Tyree called as they all trooped to the back door.

  “I’ll bring my baby doll!” Keli promised.

  When they were gone, Tyree looked up at her moth
er and said, “Maybe I ought to get a baby doll.”

  Sierra blinked in surprise. It had been years since Tyree had played with anything but those grownup teen dolls. “I thought you didn’t like baby dolls.”

  Tyree shrugged. “They’re okay sometimes.”

  Sierra smiled. “Maybe for your birthday then.”

  “Not before that?” Tyree whined. “Come on, Mom.”

  “Maybe for your birthday,” Sierra repeated, smoothing her dark hair back from her face. “Meanwhile, maybe Keli will let you play with hers if you’re nice.”

  Tyree blew a disgusted breath through her nose. Then she looked up at her mother and said. “I like them.”

  “So do I.”

  “You like him?”

  Sierra sharpened her gaze. “Sam?” Tyree nodded. Sierra considered putting her off with a shrug or an offhanded remark, but something told her that it was important to be scrupulously honest in this, with herself as much as with Tyree. She nodded and said gently, “Very much.”

  “Did you know that their daddy killed their mother?” Tyree asked then.

  Sierra masked her surprise. “Yes.”

  “Because he was drunk,” Tyree went on matter-of-factly, “but they don’t remember it. Sam had to tell them ’cause some kids were talking about it at school. It’s okay, though, ’cause Sam takes good care of them.”

  “I’m sure he does.”

  Tyree screwed up her face and asked bluntly, “Daddy wouldn’t do nothing to kill you. Would he?”

  “No,” Sierra answered firmly. “No, he wouldn’t. We may not get along, but neither of us would ever do anything like that.”

  “I didn’t think so,” Tyree said confidently.

  Sierra just smiled and hugged her daughter. For the first time in a long while she had reason to be thankful that Dennis Carlton was Tyree’s father. She could’ve done worse, after all.

  She looked at the dishes Sam had stacked on her countertop thoughtfully.

  She could’ve done worse, but she also could have done better.

  Chapter Six

  “Holy cow, it’s three supermodels!”

  The girls giggled at Sam’s outrageous comment. Tyree whirled the end of the pink feather boa she was wearing with a black strapless “evening gown” which was in reality one of her mother’s long skirts. Kim hunched her shoulders and smooched the air with hot-pink lips, the strap of Sierra’s ivory camisole falling down almost to her waist. Cobbled together with her own rolled-up knit pants, white socks and black high heels, the lacy camisole made for one weird getup. Keli stuck one hand behind her head and posed with her nose pointing toward the ceiling. She had belted a navy blue satin blouse of Sierra’s with an orange sash and carried a matching orange handbag that clashed violently with Sierra’s bright red high heels.

  Sam perched on the edge of Sierra’s den sofa and opened his arms. The twins crawled onto his knees as well as their clothing would let them, while Tyree plopped down onto the floor in front of him. He kissed the cheeks of the twins and patted Tyree’s.

  “Looks like you emptied your mom’s closet.”

  “Not hardly!” Tyree exclaimed, and Sam lifted a brow at a grinning Sierra. She just shrugged unrepentantly. Well, he supposed that most women liked clothes. He couldn’t really hold it against her. As for himself, he tried to keep enough jeans, T-shirts, underwear and socks to make it through the week without a wash.

  “Now listen here, I don’t want ya’ll leaving the house like this,” Sam told the girls with mock sincerity. “Some photographer sees you, he’s liable to chase you down the street, thinking you’re someone famous.”

  Kim rolled her eyes, scolding, “Sammy!” Keli clapped her hands over her mouth, giggling, while Tyree put on her “big girl” disdain with a huff, but she couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

  “I mean it,” Sam teased, deadpan. “Ya’ll go out looking like that and boys are going to want to kiss you, and we can’t have that for, oh, ten years, at least.”

  Keli made gagging sounds. Tyree smacked herself in the forehead and exclaimed, “Oh, brother!” Kim, however, got a cagey look.

  “I’ve already been kissed,” she announced.

  Sam knew this story in detail. Jeremy McPherson, all of five years old, had been fascinated with the twins in kindergarten, and one day he’d chased them until he’d caught Kim and kissed her. The girls had thought it “gross” and hilariously funny. It occasionally came up again. This time he pretended not to remember.

  “Is that so? Guess it’s time to head for the hills, then.”

  “What hills?” Tyree wanted to know.

  “Oh, they’ve got some tall hills out west of the Pecos,” Sam told her. “I’ve got one all picked out. It’s got plenty of boulders to roll down on the boys when they come calling.”

  Tyree clapped her hands to her head. “You can’t do that!”

  “I can’t?”

  The girls all doubled up with laughter. “No!”

  Sam sighed and flattened his lips in a show of disgust. “Well, shoot. I guess I’ll have to let you gals date one of these days.”

  “Yes!”

  “I figure thirty’s about the right age.”

  “No!”

  “Fourteen!” Tyree asserted.

  “Try sixteen, cupcake, if you dress like an old lady on her way to church.”

  “Sam!”

  “Sixteen and not a day before,” he insisted.

  Tyree jumped up and threw her arms around his neck to knock him over. All three girls mobbed him. He laughed and, despite the fact that he was dusty and sweaty, reached around all three of them, squeezing until they begged for mercy and Sierra intervened.

  “Time to get cleaned up for supper. Go on now. It’s almost on the table.”

  The girls bounced up and tottered away in too-big shoes, giggling. They sure enjoyed one another’s company. He looked at his hands. They weren’t obviously soiled, but he knew he needed to wash up. Before he could make a move to do so, however, Sierra dropped down onto the sofa next to him. He’d noticed when he’d come in that she was wearing black pants that stopped short of her ankles and hugged her slender curves like second skin along with a matching, long-sleeved turtleneck with cutouts that left her shoulders bare. Clothes like that definitely made a man think about what lay beneath them. Hoping to derail that train of thought, he hung his forearms on his knees and tried not to look at her.

  “You are so good with those girls,” she said.

  “It’s really just that I like being around them, you know. Tyree included.”

  “That’s obvious.”

  “I have to thank you, Sierra, for having the twins over so often. I get to spend a-more time with them this way, and Lana’s load gets lightened a bit, too.”

  “We love having them here. You know that. Tyree adores being the big girl in the group, but the truth is that Kim and Keli are a good influence on her. Even her father has mentioned how much happier she seems lately.”

  “That’s real nice,” Sam said, “but you shouldn’t think that you have to keep cooking for us all the time.”

  Sierra crossed her legs. Her foot, in its soft, little black slipper, rubbed against his shin as she did so. The temperature seemed to shoot up about ten degrees. “Well, of course I don’t,” she was saying. “You’re not here all the time.”

  Suddenly feeling dry-mouthed, Sam licked his lips. “I mean on the days the twins are here, you don’t have to cook for us.”

  “I like cooking for you. It’s more fun than just Tyree and I eating alone together. Of course, if you don’t like my cooking…” She uncrossed her legs as if she meant to get up. Before he even knew he was going to do it, he dropped a hand onto her knee to keep her in place. Heat jolted up his arm. He took his hand away, careful not to snatch it back.

  “You know that’s not it. We’ve never eaten so well as we do here. But we don’t want to take advantage.”

  “Okay. Tell you what, I’ll make a dea
l with you.” She leaned forward, matching his posture, and bumped her shoulder into his. “I’ll only cook when I really want to. How’s that?”

  He chuckled. She had him pretty neatly boxed in. “I don’t suppose you’d consider letting me buy groceries on occasion then?”

  “Sure. If you want something special.”

  He turned his head to look at her. “And what would that be?”

  She slipped her arm through his. “You tell me.”

  He couldn’t have told her his name just then, not with her sitting so close. They were practically nose to nose, close enough that a mere tilt of his head would have resulted in a kiss. A kiss he wanted very badly. He tried to remember all the reasons it was not a good idea. When he got to money, he finally recognized the looming disaster. Gulping, he sat back.

  “I’ll, uh, have to give it some thought.”

  “Okay,” she said, popping up onto her feet. “Why don’t you get washed up so you can help me set the table?”

  “Sure. Yeah. Uh-huh.”

  Sam couldn’t not watch as she pivoted and walked away, if that hip-swaying slink could be called walking. Sam closed his eyes, feeling singed around the edges. Well, that’s what happened when you played with fire. Good grief, how had he let this happen? Sierra Carlton was the very last woman with whom he should be spending time. Yet here he was. Again. She was getting to be a bad habit. Yet, the evenings that he and the girls didn’t spend here with Sierra and Tyree seemed strangely flat and incomplete now.

  He tried to think of her as his business partner, maybe even a friend. Instead he kept dreaming about putting his hands on her, laying his mouth against the long, graceful column of her throat and hearing her cry out as he pushed into her.

  Oh, man. What was he doing? And why couldn’t he stop?