Page 7
He shrugged, clearly not affected by any of this. But why would he be? None of it had registered on his radar back then, never mind now.
Maya sipped her Coke, wishing to God that there were some rum in it. “Aren’t you working at the ski resort anymore?”
“I am,” Sam replied, running a hand through his sandy hair. “I just needed some extra money, and this is flexible, plus it pays well.”
The tightening of his biceps distracted Maya for a moment. A rogue thought crossed her mind that she’d still love to run her fingers through his hair, despite his carelessness with her heart in the past. Shut up, brain.
She cleared her throat. “What favor did you want to ask? Because I need to get back to my friends.” Arching an eyebrow, she attempted to appear badass and as if most of the people she was referring to weren’t those she’d met only an hour ago.
He glanced down at where her top was revealing her shoulder. “I need you to keep it to yourself that I’m doing this job.”
Maya frowned. “Why?”
“Just because.”
Maya held his gaze for a few seconds, as if beating him in a staring competition would be some sort of victory. Sam looked away first, and she had to repress the urge to pump her fist in the air, which would have been foolish when she was holding two drinks.
He shifted away slightly. “I haven’t told anyone I’m doing this job, that’s why. I only take gigs far enough out of town that people I know won’t be around.” He looked at her as if she were breaking some sort of rule by being there.
Maya clenched the drinks a little more tightly. This was her friend’s house. He was the one trespassing on her territory, not the other way around. She kept quiet, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of answering.
It had the desired effect—the balance of power seemed to stay in her corner, and he kept talking. “Catriona wouldn’t like that I’m doing it. I don’t want anyone to find out and tell her.”
Aha. Catriona. That duplicitous cow. “Yeah,” Maya said, acting as if this were the most boring conversation in history and that she wasn’t affected by hearing that name. “That’s fine, whatever. I need to get back to Kirsty now, so . . .”
She gestured at him to back off, and he raised an eyebrow, staying put.
“You need to back it up so I can get out of here. No turning round. I do not need to see your naked arse again.”
He folded his arms, eyebrow still raised. “I’ve not had any complaints before.”
She rolled her eyes. Bloody full of himself. He probably had this second job in order to fund some flash new car or designer gear or something equally shallow.
Sam smiled and took a couple of steps back, opening the door to allow her to exit the kitchen.
On entering the living room, Maya handed Una her drink, then made a beeline for Kirsty.
“So,” Kirsty stage-whispered. “What happened in there?”
“Nothing,” Maya muttered.
Kirsty narrowed her eyes, glancing over Maya’s shoulder at where, she assumed, Sam must have reentered. “Did he mention what happened?”
Maya sipped her drink. “Nope. He could at least have apologized for humiliating me. But then again, he’s had years to do that and he hasn’t. So . . .” She shrugged.
Kirsty huffed out a breath. “I feel like docking his fee, but it’s prepaid.”
A needle of guilt stabbed at Maya’s chest at the thought of Kirsty instigating any sort of sanction. Though she didn’t know why, when she owed Sam nothing. “It’s fine. Water under the bridge. He’s forgotten about it, I’ve forgotten about it. And I’m bloody sure Catriona never even thought about it.”
Kirsty gave her a hug. “I have a question,” she said, pulling back to gesture across the room. “If this is the guy who dumped you for your friend because you weren’t his type, then how come he can’t take his eyes off you?”
Maya looked over her shoulder and found Sam staring right back at her.
Chapter
Three
It was pretty chilly in the downstairs toilet, so Sam didn’t waste any time in pulling on his jeans and jumper.
