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  Sam squirted the girls with the sink sprayer, splattering the kitchen floor and island. Shrieking, they put up their hands and fell, laughing, against the counters. Tyree had the presence of mind to hold up the dish towel she’d been using to dry the pot lids, so Sam snatched it and sprayed her again. Tyree screamed and laughed so hard that she bumped into Keli, who stumbled and went down on a wet patch of floor vinyl. Sam dropped the sprayer and somehow managed to catch her before she hit something. The sprayer, however, hit the edge of the sink, showering Sierra, who thought she’d found a safe spot in the corner of the counter.

  She caught her breath, wet from the top of her head to her waist in front, and realized that everyone had stopped laughing. Grabbing a discarded dish towel from the countertop, she silently mopped her face then made a grab for the sprayer and, to the vast amusement of the girls, drenched Sam before he could wrestle it away from her. Arms, elbows and hands flying, knees and feet bumping, bodies twisting and writhing, they grappled with the chrome head attached to several feet of narrow rubber hose, laughing uproariously all the time.

  Finally—and quite unfairly, she thought, given his superior strength—he succeeded in gaining control of the sprayer and shutting off the water supply. Then it was just the girls laughing as the two adults became fully aware of their situation.

  They were standing against the sink, bodies plastered together, arms entwined. They blinked at each other, and then Sierra felt his pulse quicken and elation soared within her. She had suspected that he, too, had been feeling the electricity that crackled so often between them since that kiss, but for weeks now she’d waited for some definite proof. Finally, she had it.

  Sam immediately detangled himself and started grabbing towels to mop up the water. Sierra shoved damp hair out of her face and smiled at the girls.

  “Grab some more towels, kids, and let’s mop up.”

  “No!” Sam said, holding the dishcloths in front of him. Four pairs of very surprised, curious eyes fell on him. “Uh, my fault. I’ll clean up by myself.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” Sierra said, tilting her head. “We all shared in the fun.”

  “I insist.” His tone was light, but the look he fixed on her was determined.

  She was pretty sure she understood the problem. She had felt it lengthening against her belly. Spreading her arms wide, she stepped in front of him and shooed the girls toward the door. “All gigglers into the den.”

  Living up to the description, the girls bounced and skipped and hopped from the room. They never walked anywhere, those three, and it was a complete delight to watch. Sierra cast a look over her shoulder as she followed the girls. Sam stood with the dish towels dangling from his hands, head bowed as if contemplating the task ahead. She wanted to tell him how wonderful he was, how much he thrilled her. She wanted to let him how much his and the twins being here meant to her.

  Tyree never seemed happier than she did when he and the twins were around. They were darlings, both of them, so easy to love, and Sierra wanted to believe that she added something important to their lives, just as Sam seemed to bring something important to Tyree’s. She and Tyree still had their difficult moments, of course, usually after Tyree had spent time with her father, but Sam and the twins provided a very welcome distraction from that old war. It was almost as if they were a family, she and Sam and the girls. Almost.

  Turning away, Sierra followed the girls. Now that she knew Sam felt the attraction as keenly as she did, she had to accept the fact that he was obviously fighting it. Why? The age thing, of course. The five, almost six, years between them had seemed quite a gulf to her, too, in the beginning, but Sam had proved he was mature far beyond his years. How could she convince him she wasn’t too old?

  They already spent a couple of hours two or three evenings a week together, but the girls were always part of that, a huge part. Well, she’d take what she could get for the moment. Maybe an opportunity would present itself…eventually. Or she could sit him down and have a frank talk with him. She imagined how such a conversation might go.

  “I’ve come to see what a wonderful man you are, Sam, and I’m just wild about you.”

  “No kidding? You mean it? Because I’m nuts about you, too. I just never thought you’d be interested in me.”

  “More than interested. Make love to me.”

  Then the girls would run screaming into the room, and that would be that. Shaking her head wryly, she plopped down onto the couch, plucked her damp shirt away from her body and set her mind to dreaming up some other way to get him alone, vaguely aware that the girls were going through the DVDs that had arrived that afternoon in the mail from the movie club to which she subscribed. When Sam came into the room, rolling down his sleeves, Sierra was no closer to solving her problem. She sat up straighter and smiled in what she hoped was a beguiling fashion. He probably thought she was grinning at the wet spots on his clothing.

  Whatever he thought, he ignored her and spoke to the twins. “Ready to go?”

  “Oh, Sammy, look!” Kim exclaimed, bouncing up from the floor with a DVD case in hand. “It’s the wizard movie! Can we watch it? Oh, please, please. There’s no school tomorrow.”

  “It’s true,” Sierra supplied helpfully. “Tomorrow’s a teacher workday, so the girls have a long weekend.”

  “I know. That’s why Lana has planned an outing tomorrow,” Sam said. “Besides, I really need to get on home and take a shower.”

  “But you’re all wet already!” Tyree pointed out.

  “A real shower,” Sam amended.

  “Oh, Sammy, please,” Keli pleaded. “We’ve waited and waited to see it.”

  “It won’t be in the rental shops for another month,” Sierra added. Sam shot her a killing glare. “I tell you what, the girls can take it home with them.”

  “Mooom!” Tyree protested.

  “You saw it at the theater,” Sierra reminded her.

  “We don’t have a DVD player,” Sam said flatly, “and I need a shower.”

  Kim and Keli had subsided, and Kim now dropped the DVD on the floor. The pair of them stared at it morosely but said not another word. Sam grimaced.

  “All right. I spend ninety percent of my time covered in grit anyway.” The girls brightened visibly, but Sam was clearly unhappy.

  “If I might make another suggestion,” Sierra ventured cautiously. He crooked an eyebrow at her, his expression stating that she’d done quite enough for one evening. She took a deep breath. “Why don’t you go on home and have a nice long shower? The girls can spend the night here.”

  “Yeah!” Tyree agreed.

  “No,” Sam said, holding up one hand to forestall further argument. “Lana’s made plans, and she’s expecting them early tomorrow morning.”

  “Well, then I’ll run them home as soon as the movie’s over.”

  Sam’s face clouded. “I’ll come back for them,” he said implacably.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Sierra began, but he glared her into silence, bringing his hands to hips.

  “I said I’ll come back for them, and that’s final.”

  Stung, Sierra tucked her hands beneath her thighs and looked away. “Fine.”

  He stood there a moment, then mumbled, “No reason you should have to get Tyree out so late.”

  Sierra tried to smile, but she couldn’t help wondering why he had to be so testy at times. They’d had so much fun earlier. Everyone had been so happy. Maybe he was attracted to her, but it was no more than the attraction he’d feel for any halfway attractive woman. Maybe he really didn’t like some things about her. Maybe he thought she was a bad risk, foolish with her money, lax with her child. Maybe he figured Dennis had had a valid reason for dumping her, like she wasn’t any good in bed. God, how long had it been since she’d felt like that?

  “Whatever you say.”

  Grimly, Sam walked over to the girls. He kissed the twins and ruffled Tyree’s hair. “Behave yourselves,” he ordered. “I’ll be back in a
couple of hours.”

  “Thanks, Sam,” Tyree said softly.

  Sam’s mouth twisted into a smile. “You’re welcome, cupcake.”

  Tyree giggled and lightly poked Kim in the ribs. “That’s funny. All his special names are sweet stuff. He calls you sugar.”

  “And Keli’s sweetie,” Kim said.

  “And you’re cupcake!” Keli chortled, pointing at Tyree.

  “So I like my desserts,” Sam teased. “Maybe I have a sweet tooth.”

  “So what’s Mommy?” Tyree asked, laughing.

  “Honey!” Kim suggested.

  “No, no, candy!” Keli said, and all three girls broke into raucous laughter.

  Sierra caught her breath. Sam shot her a look, and the horror in it, the embarrassment, nearly felled her. Switching her gaze away, she stammered about the silliness of little girls, while Sam muttered that he’d better go and did.

  Sierra immediately got up to switch on the television and put in the DVD. She took a place on the couch while the girls settled down with pillows on the floor. She meant to watch the movie. She’d enjoyed it the first time, after all, but she knew within minutes that she wouldn’t be able to keep her mind on it now. She kept wondering what was wrong with her to put that look in Sam’s eyes.

  Sam didn’t breathe easily until he was home, but even then he didn’t fully relax. He kept thinking how awful it would’ve been if Sierra had come here. As he walked through the small, drab kitchen of the small, drab house, he felt again the overwhelming lack of equality in their standards of living.

  He wasn’t envious of what Sierra had or ashamed of the way he and the twins lived. Their house, which had been built in the late ’50s, was small and tired and colorless, but it was clean and sound and comfortable enough. Cool in the summer, warm in the winter. One day he hoped to provide better. In the meantime the twins had all the advantages to be found at Lana’s and Sierra’s.

  All in all, they had a good life. But if Sierra were to see this house, she’d know without a doubt how far below her he stood on the economic ladder. He wanted—needed—to feel that they were equals, but it wasn’t true in any way except one. Business.

  That was all he had with Sierra. That was all he could have with Sierra, all his pride and their circumstances would allow. For everyone’s sake, he had to protect that. More than once, though, he’d have given almost anything to change the situation. Tonight, for instance, while playing around with that stupid sink sprayer, he’d felt…at home, like he was in the right place, exactly where he and the twins were supposed to be, and then Sierra had gotten into the act, and for a moment that feeling had intensified. He’d had her there in his arms, laughing and tussling, and a feeling that he was afraid even now to analyze had blindsided him, a feeling of such possessiveness, such… He shook his head, unable and unwilling to put a name to it. For an instant, just a heartbeat, he’d have traded his soul to be able to put his mouth to hers, to feel her slide her arms around his neck, and she knew it. Despite everything, she knew that he wanted her. Everyone knew it, even the girls on some level.

  “What’s Mommy?”

  “Honey!”

  “Candy!”

  Sweet enough to eat with a spoon, that’s what “Mommy” was.

  Swallowing hard, he headed for the shower, so tired that his feet felt like lead weights. Maybe cold water would invigorate him, clear his head, drum some sense into him. He sighed because he knew he had to go back to Sierra’s tonight. And tomorrow. And Monday. And nearly every day after that so long as they were partners. He sighed again because Sierra’s was exactly where he wanted to be.

  God help him.

  Because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could help himself.

  Chapter Seven

  Sam returned long before the movie was over. Sierra had forgotten that it was over three hours in length and so hadn’t warned him. The girls were rapt when Sam walked in, barely even sparing him a glance. Sierra, however, could barely tear her gaze away. No one should look that good in jeans, boots and a simple T-shirt.

  He dropped down onto the end of the sofa opposite her. It was, unfortunately, a long couch, but a very comfortable one. She curled her legs beneath her and smiled. He glanced irritably at his wristwatch, holding his arm beneath the dim glow of the single lamp that she’d left burning on the tall table behind the sofa.

  “How much longer?”

  She couldn’t give him an exact answer. “I’m not sure what time we started, frankly, but it’s pretty long.”

  He made a face, flattening his lips in unhappy resignation, and settled in to wait. Within minutes she realized that he had fallen asleep, his head dropping onto his own shoulder as his lean frame sprawled against the corner of the sofa. Poor man, he was obviously exhausted.

  He worked too hard, but what he had accomplished in the past weeks was nothing short of amazing. One of the greenhouses was finished; seedlings were sprouting in layered rows inside. A ton of fertilizer had been worked into the fields behind the house, and much of the perimeter of the tilled ground had already been planted in rye and wheat, with more to be sowed in the fallow fields and later plowed under again, building nutrients into the soil. Soon Sam would begin stringing wire and build a sturdy trellis row for the rosebushes he’d set out. Last of all, he would sow lavender on the hillside. He had taken care of so much already. It was time someone took care of him.

  Sierra tucked her hands between her knees and quelled the urge to touch that almost perfect circle of hair in the center of his hairline. These Jayces were prone to cowlicks, it seemed. She thought it terribly charming.

  By the time the movie finally ended, the girls were all fading, but while Keli collapsed facedown on her pillow, Kim rolled over, sat up, glanced at Sam and said softly to Sierra, “That was great!”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Sierra whispered.

  “Sammy’s sleeping,” Tyree said around a yawn.

  She looked at Kim and asked, “What should we do? I hate to wake him.”

  Keli sat up then. “I’m too tired to go home,” she said plaintively.

  “Can’t they stay?” Tyree pleaded. “Sam can sleep on the couch.”

  Sierra considered. If Sam could sleep this deeply sitting up, he didn’t have any business driving home. “Okay. Let’s get you all upstairs and into bed,” she decided.

  A soft chorus of cheers applauded her decision. She reached for the remote and shut off the television, then rose and followed the girls from the room. They wandered from the den and down the hall past the never-used formal living room to the stairs, their footsteps dragging sleepily. Sierra literally pushed them up the stairs, hands moving from back to back.

  At the top of the stairs, Tyree paused to ask, “Can we sleep in your room? We won’t all fit in mine.”

  She had a point. The girls would want to sleep together. The guest room wasn’t furnished to accommodate three sleepers. Sierra’s room, on the other hand, featured an enormous king-sized bed ample enough for three little girls.

  “Sure, baby.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  The girls trooped into her room, yawning. Sierra rushed them through brushing their teeth and washing up, then bundled them into sleepwear, tucked them into her own big bed and dispensed kisses.

  “Where will you sleep, Mom?” Tyree wanted to know.

  “In the guest room, I suppose. Don’t worry about me. Just go straight to sleep, because if I know Sam, he’ll be out of here at the crack of dawn.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Kim agreed, from the center of the bed between Tyree and Keli.

  “Sleep well.” They looked like three cuddly kittens tucked up in a basket. Sierra switched off the bedside lamp, then snagged her nightgown and robe from a hook on the bedroom door.

  In the nearest guest room she stripped and donned the loose cotton gown. In the act of folding down the bedcovers, she paused and straightened. She couldn’t help thinking of Sam sleeping sitting up down there on the sofa. He c
ouldn’t rest well in that condition, and he was bound to wake with a terrible crick in his neck. After quickly donning her robe, she pulled a pillow off the bed, picked up a chenille throw from the armchair in the corner and went down to the den.

  He had sprawled out a little, one leg flung wide, but otherwise hadn’t moved. She looked at her lovely new sofa and his feet and knew that the boots had to be her first order of business. Leaving the pillow and blanket on the coffee table, she crouched down in front of him and lifted his heavy foot. He just bent his knee and moved it away from her, sliding a little farther down into the corner of the cushions. She dusted her hands together, determined that those gritty boots come off.

  She moved closer to the couch and bent over, saying softly, “Sam, your boots. Can you help me get them off?”

  He huffed a deep breath and muttered something that sounded like, “Shing swart.”

  She didn’t even try to figure that out, just backed up, bent from the waist, picked up his foot and pulled. The boot slid off surprisingly easily. He pulled his leg back and dropped it to the floor. She followed the same procedure with the other foot, and suddenly he sat up straight. She quickly placed the pillow onto the seat cushion next to the arm of the couch. Then she stepped back.

  “Stretch out now.”

  He just blinked at her, looking dazed. Lightly pushing against his shoulders, she repeated her instructions, and he began drifting downward onto his side. She bent and gathered his legs together, lifting them so that he rolled onto his back as he went down. She smiled as she spread the chenille throw over him. Then, on impulse, she bent low and placed a featherlight kiss on the corner of his mouth. Some men, she mused, reaching across the sofa to flip off the subdued light, looked like little boys when they slept. Sam looked just like what he was, a virile young man who could crack the world open like a nut. Any woman in her right mind would be crazy about him. She sure was.

  “I’ll leave you to sleep now,” she told him softly, wishing that it could be otherwise, but just as she started to rise, his hand shot out from beneath the blanket and clamped onto the top of her leg right below the bend of her thigh.