Samantha stopped him. “Dad, you can stay! You didn’t eat yet, either. That’s okay, right, Mom?”
Maya finally looked in Sam’s direction, but was still unable to meet his eyes, her earlier antics still fresh in her mind. “Of course Sam can join us. There’s always plenty of food.” Sam silently nodded his acceptance.
“Samantha—” Maya pointed to the back. “Why don’t you get some sandwiches together? I’ll close up and bring coffee.”
Samantha pulled Niki to the back of the kitchen to work on the sandwiches. Sam lingered with Maya.
“Nice, Maya.” He raised his eyebrows at her and shook his head. “Assuming I had a girlfriend—” his voice was terse as he leaned back against the counter, arms folded across his chest “—that age.”
Maya had to force herself to look away from the way his T-shirt stretched over the muscles in his arms. “Well, what was I supposed to think?” She started the coffee maker and closed her eyes but the image remained.Oh boy.
Sam blew air out of his mouth. “Oh, I don’t know. How about assuming that Iwouldn’tbring random women around my daughter, especially since my fiancée just left me? Or that I might want someone closer to my own age, as opposed to my daughter’s?” He unfolded his arms and leaned back on them. “But then again, I guess thinking the best of me isn’t necessarily natural for you.” There was more than a touch of venom in his words, but it was matched by a touch of sadness.
She frowned. “That’s not true.”
“Really? Then why the big show?”
She turned away from him and opened a cupboard door so he couldn’t see her flush. She spoke into the cupboard. “If I didn’t trust you, there’s no way I’d let you take Samantha all the time—father or not.” She peeked around the cupboard door. He was silently nodding agreement.
He looked in her direction and she ducked behind the cupboard door again. “What are you looking for?”
“Coffee mugs. The extras are up here.” She stood on tiptoe to try to reach the top shelf. She got a finger on one and tried to pull it toward her.
“Here, I’ll get it.” He was immediately behind her, his warmth and traces of cologne filling the space behind her. His body pressed against her back as he reached over her to get the mugs, and it was all Maya could do not to melt back into him.
Honestly, this had to stop.
He grabbed four mugs. “Here you go.” She heard the smile in his voice.
She hesitated before turning around, waiting for him to step back. Instead, he leaned down toward her, his breath on her ear. “You weren’tjealous,were you?”
“What?” She spun around too fast, her body grazing hard muscle.Oh God.She quickly sidestepped, and tried to breathe Sam-free air and gather herself. “Nah—don’t think so much of yourself, Sam.” The pitch of her voice was too high, and she was speaking too fast. But she couldn’t stop herself. “If I was jealous, that might imply that I was still in love with you.”What was she saying?
Sam snapped his eyes to hers. “Are you?”
“Am I what?” She needed to get out of this conversation.
“Are you still in love with me?” He had captured her in his gaze as if her answer could change the course of the universe.
“No.” It wasn’t any easier to force the lie from her mouth than it was the first time she’d said it. She thought for an instant that disappointment flashed across Sam’s face. But before she could confirm it, Sam once again hardened his gaze. She took the mugs and returned to the coffee maker. “Niki has grown up to be quite a beautiful young lady.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, she has. She’s doing her master’s in education at NYU.”
Maya busied herself with the cream and sugar for the coffee. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sam filling a plate with cookies.
“She’s focusing on early childhood development. Largely, I think, from your influence on her that summer.” He paused and she turned back to face him.
“She didn’t stop talking about you for a very long time.” His jaw was tight and his knuckles were white from gripping the counter. “The way you left...”
She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. Did she imagine it, or were there tears in his eyes?
“She was seven. It was hard to make her understand.”
Another person she’d harmed. “I know I hurt people—and not just you. But I can’t change that.”
“Maybe, but you had sixteen years to try to make that right—and you didn’t.”
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry in front of him, not again. She swallowed her tears and the burn subsided. “I tried. Every birthday, every milestone.” She folded her arms tight across her chest, willing herself to stay composed. “I must have picked up the phone a hundred times the first year of her life, to tell you what cute and new thing she did.”
