Cupcake looked him dead in the eye and grinned. “Hi there, Sam. Did you sleep well?”
Sam smiled faintly as he reached for another beer. Her dimples were popping back out again, damn it anyway. “Yeah, Cupcake, I slept great.” He took a long, slow swig of the imported brew, carefully studying those bedeviling dimples as he did so.
Sam set the bottle down on the tabletop and sighed mentally. Lordy, lordy… this was going to be one hell of a long dinner.
* * * * *
An hour later, Sam stood up to help Gwen and Harry clear off the dinner table. He picked up all the condiments that had been set out for supper and strolled into the kitchen with them. As he walked into the room and glanced around, the familiarity of it struck him deeply.
How many times had he sat at that very kitchen table, eatin’ one of Willy’s homemade chocolate chip cookies while Verlene bandaged up the latest scrape he’d acquired on his knee? How many evenings had he spent at that same table playing cards and drinking sodas with Harry while Gwen sprawled out on the floor below them humming as she colored in her Strawberry Shortcake coloring book?
Sam sighed as he looked around and let the memories of his childhood pour over him. Gwen. His thoughts always returned to Gwen. And then those thoughts only made him realize how much time he’d wasted, how many years had truly gone by.
What a fool he’d been to stay away so long. Gwen was obviously not enamored of him anymore. Every year, every day he’d been away from the fray had apparently helped her to forget him a little bit more and let go of the past they shared. Only now here he was, wanting her to do anything except to forget about him.
It wasn’t that Gwen was treating Sam coldly or even being aloof. Not so. All through supper she’d been her usual self, laughing freely, telling amusing stories about her shoot at Vantry Sportswear, smiling at him from across the dinner table, those adorable dimples popping out.
The problem lay in what Cupcake wasn’t doing. Namely, that she wasn’t gazing at him with stars in her eyes the way she used to. Of course, Gwen wasn’t sixteen anymore. She was now a full-grown, mature, sophisticated woman. This business of strategy was damned depressing. Sam had no idea what his next move should be.
Should he lay his cards out on the table and tell Gwen straight up that he’d like to take her out on a date? Or should he continue to play it cool and wait to see if she came to him? Lord have mercy—strategies were a lot easier to implement on the baseball field.
“Who died?”
Sam started at the sound of that familiar voice. He glanced quickly at her before turning around to open the refrigerator door. He cleared his throat. “What do you mean by that, Gwen?”
Gwenyth shrugged her shoulders as she watched Sam fiddle around with the condiments in his hand. “When I first walked in here you had this really sad look on your face.” She cocked her head and studied him. “Don’t tell me your contract negotiations went badly?”
I wish that was my worst problem, Cupcake.“Of course not.” Sam placed the A-1 sauce next to the ketchup then swung around to look at her. “Went great. No complaints there.”
She bit her lip. “I’m glad.”
He shuffled on his feet. “Me too.”
They studied each other in silence for a long moment, then both started to speak at the same time. “Sam,” Gwen said. “Gwen,” Sam began. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
After that, the conversation flowed freely between them. They stood there, just the two of them, reminiscing about old times and catching each other up on what they’d missed in the decade since they’d last seen one another.
“After college, I turned down an offer fromVogueto form Jones & Jones with Grandmama.” She smiled owlishly. “It turned out to be the right decision. I couldn’t be happier any place else than I am at Jones & Jones.”
Sam snorted, chuckling slightly. “Can’t blame you there, Cupcake. I’m sure workin’ for yourself holds a lot of advantages over workin’ for someone else. I can’t say I’d mind that at all.”
Gwenyth shrugged elegantly. “It has its downsides too. Knowing that people are counting on you to not bounce their paychecks carries a lot of pressure on Grandmama and myself to accumulate new accounts.” She grinned. “Luckily we only have three employees at the moment and Grandmama’s a natural born businesswoman if ever there was one.”
Sam laughed. It felt so good talking to Gwen like this, being near her, getting to know her all over again. “I can believe that about Verlene Jones. The woman’s as graceful as a southern swan, but as sharp as a serrated blade.”
A trill of Gwen’s laughter peeled through the kitchen. It occurred to Sam that church bells at mass on Christmas Eve couldn’t have sounded prettier. “True.” She gestured toward him animatedly. “And what about you? Do you like playing for the New England Crusaders?”
Sam scratched his chin as he considered the answer to that question. “Yes and no.”
“Oh?”
He smiled impishly at Gwen. “I’ve been paid well to do something I’ve had a helluva good time doin’. How can I complain?”
Gwen crossed her arms over her breasts and notched a tawny eyebrow. “I sense a but coming on here.”
Sam shrugged. “Please don’t go repeatin’ this to anybody else because I’m not quite ready to go public with it, but I’ve decided to retire when this last contract is up.”
“You’re kidding?”
