I wrinkled my nose, teasing him. “I’d prefer it if you did.”
Sam gave me a playful swat on my backside that sent a thrill through me. “You sure we’re uh … in the clear?”
“Will’s at a sleepover,” I said. “He and one of his teammates from robotics have been joined at the hip all summer. They went to the science museum today. He’ll be back tomorrow around lunchtime.”
“Okay.” Sam ran a hand through my hair. “But pretty soon, don’t you think we need to have a conversation with him?”
“He knows you’re part of my life,” I said. “And you’re part of his life, too. What else do you think he needs to know? Go on. Wash up. That lasagna only needs to be heated up. It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes. You feeling like beer or wine tonight?”
“Beer if you’ve got it,” he said. Sam unbuttoned his shirt. He wore a plain white tee underneath and filled it out nicely.
“You can throw everything in the washing machine if you want,” I said. “I was going to run a load tonight anyway.”
“I can do my own laundry, Mara.”
“Maybe I don’t mind.” I smiled.
Sam pulled off his tee shirt. He was broad-shouldered, muscular, and trim. I wondered if I’d ever get tired of looking at him. We’d taken things slow for so many reasons. I was recently divorced. There was Will. There was the potential political fallout of him being the sheriff and me working for the prosecutor’s office. But tonight, it felt good to just have him here all to myself. To not have to edit myself or worry about who might have an opinion of our relationship.
He tossed his clothes in my washing machine off the kitchen, then kissed me in passing as he made his way up the stairs.
I started a load. Will had brought his things down from his hamper this morning. He’d grown like a weed this summer. Though he didn’t have the build of an athlete, like Sam, they wore the same size tee shirts. My little boy was fast growing into a man.
I heard the shower running in the bathroom directly above me. A wicked thought crossed my mind. I decided to act on it. I turned the heat down on the oven but decided I didn’t care one bit if the lasagna burned.
“I like it here,”Sam said the next morning as he lay beside me. “Maybe too much.”
I threaded my fingers through his, leaning back against his solid chest. I traced the lines of his palms. He had big hands. The kind that could span my waist. I tried not to compare him with the man I used to share this very bed with. Jason. My ex. Will’s father. There was a time I never thought I’d be with anyone else. Now, I was beginning to feel the same about Sam. He was right. Sometime soon, we’d have to have a conversation with Will. But first we might have to have one between us.
“I like you here too,” I said. It was only the third time he’d spent the night. “I just wonder if maybe we shouldn’t … you know … take the risk. With all this attention on the Luke case.”
“I really don’t care what people think on that score.”
“It could become a distraction. We both know I’m going to be the one trying this case if it gets that far. I’ve had reporters camped outside my house for lower profile cases. This one’s already made national news. Cutler made sure of that. I just don’t want to run the risk of either of us becoming the story.”
“You sure that’s all it is?” Sam asked.
I leaned up on my elbow. “Yes. Don’t forget. In another year you have to run for election. You’re still filling out Bill Clancy’s term. The wagons are starting to circle and we’d be naïve to think you’ll run unopposed. I just don’t want to give anyone fodder.”
“I can handle it,” he said. “Can you?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had my love life used against me. There are plenty of people who still think I should be punished for the crimes Jason committed.”
“Is that the real reason you won’t run for prosecutor?”
“What? No. I’ve told you a thousand times. I like the job I have. I’ve never had the slightest interest in elected office.”
“Fine,” he said, pulling me closer to him. “But I’m not going to sneak around because of closed-minded people’s opinions. I love you. Period. I don’t care who knows it.”
I felt a rush of heat. We’d said it before to each other. It wasn’t that. It was just here … in the early morning, in my bed. It felt even more intimate than before.
I rested my head back against him, liking the way we fit together. Part of me wished I could stop time. We stayed that way for a while. Sam made me feel safe, warm, at peace. I don’t think I’d ever felt that way with Jason. Not in all the years we were married. It wasn’t in me to say it. But it would have felt like sacrilege, invoking Jason’s name in this space and time.
Finally, I don’t know who moved first. But we did. Sam had space in a drawer. He put on a pair of jeans and a fresh tee shirt. I found a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie. Downstairs, I could smell the coffee brewing.
Sam made us both an English muffin. The coffee was good. Strong. But he frowned as he read something on his tablet.
“Bennett Cutler plans on holding another press conference after Simmons’s arraignment,” he said.
