Mr. January Read online

  “Nice place,” he said.

  “I know. I’m so lucky I saw Miss Marks’s ad for a house sitter before anyone else did. She has a big, dream kitchen that’s been updated and remodeled. Perfect for what I do. I get to stay here through mid-June.” She hugged herself and smiled, as if she couldn’t believe her good fortune.

  “Then what?”

  “If my business continues to do well, by then I should have enough saved for first and last month’s rent on a nice little house, with enough left over to rent commercial kitchen space.”

  “Why would you want a commercial space?”

  “For licensing purposes, I really should do my baking in a commercial kitchen. Plus, a separate space would be easier to keep clean.”

  “Heck, with your baking talent, you could open your own bakery.”

  “That’s my dream. Someday.”

  “People will line up around the block.”

  “That’s another dream of mine.”

  The mischievous slant of her mouth pulled him in, and he was sorely tempted to kiss her. Nope, not gonna happen. He started to shove his hands into his pockets, but the bandage he’d slipped on after leaving his pop’s earlier and his still-sore wrist stopped him.

  “Show me that faucet,” he said.

  “Right this way.”

  She led him up a carpeted staircase not quite wide enough for them to walk side by side. Lagging a few steps behind, he enjoyed the view. The sway of her hips, her sweet rear end. And those socks…. Why he thought they were sexy was anyone’s guess.

  Upstairs, they passed several bedrooms. No doubt, the one with the single bed, the toys, and kids’ books belonged to William. Another looked unused. The third room with its neatly-made queen-size bed and the woman’s ankle boots on the floor—this was where Sam slept.

  Adam’s body liked knowing that and started to jump to life. Not where he wanted to go, and he turned his thoughts to the task at hand.

  She led him into the bathroom and pointed at the faucets on the claw-foot tub. “That’s where the leak is. I already turned off the water in here.”

  He was impressed she’d known to do that. Various tools were spread on an old towel on the blue-and-white tile floor. Adam hunkered down beside the tub. “Hand me that adjustable wrench.”

  Sam did, then leaned against the wall to watch. “Do you miss not staying overnight at the station?” she asked as he fit the wrench to the faucet.

  “We each have our own quarters, so not the sleeping per se. I sure miss the noise, though. After nine years of spending a chunk of each week with a bunch of guys, I’ve gotten used to it.”

  Sam yawned. “When I fall asleep, I can sleep through anything. But that’s because I’m up at three to bake.”

  “Ugh,” Adam said. “That can happen at the station, too, if we get a call. Some nights, we never get to bed at all.” He handed Sam the wrench and pulled out the washer. “There. It’s off.”

  “Finally. Now I can go to the hardware store and buy the right one.”

  “This looks like your standard-issue washer,” Adam said. “I’ll bet Lucy has a couple extras stashed someplace.”

  “If she does, I have no idea where. And I don’t want to call and bother her with this.”

  “Does she have a catch-all drawer or a place where she keeps nails?”

  “Hmmm.” Sam’s brow wrinkled in thought. “Maybe in the basement? That’s where I found these tools.”

  “I’ll check.”

  “Are you sure? Don’t you have better things to do?”

  Adam thought about the management book at his place, waiting for him to crack open. He was in no hurry to get back. “I’m good.”

  “While you look for a washer, I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee. Do you like your cinnamon rolls at room temp or warmed up?”

  “Warm,” he said, salivating at the thought.

  Downstairs, Sam led him to the kitchen, a roomy space with double ovens and a gleaming tile floor. She opened the door to the basement and flicked on the light.

  “To the left of the washer and dryer, there’s a board with tools hanging on it,” she said.

  He thudded down the worn, wooden steps into a standard basement. No remodeling down here. On the way to the tool board, he passed a clothes line, where a couple of lacy bras and panties hung. He couldn’t help wondering what Sam wore under that old sweatshirt. Shaking his head at his wayward thoughts, he located the tool drawer beneath the tool board. There, he found a packet of washers. He and Sam returned to the second floor, and in no time, the new washer was in place. He turned on the water supply, and then Sam tested the faucet. After a few spurts and gurgles, hot water gushed out. She shut it off. Not a drip in sight.

  “Thanks, Adam,” she said, beaming at him. “You saved the day. Come downstairs and get your reward.”

  Ridiculously pleased to have put that smile on her face, he washed up. They sat down at a kitchen table big enough for six, where the promised coffee and oven-warmed cinnamon rolls waited. Licking his lips, Adam helped himself to both.

  While he devoured a couple of rolls, he noted a crayon drawing hanging on the fridge. At the bottom, shaky letters spelled out William’s name. “Your son likes to draw,” he commented, nodding at a corkboard near the back door, on which several other pictures were tacked. “Are those horses?”

  Sam nodded. “I told you about Betty Randall, our widowed neighbor with the red boots. Her kids have grown up and moved away, and she misses her grandchildren. I think that’s why she dotes on William. Occasionally, when I’m in a pinch, she even babysits. William likes her, and he adores the two old horses that live in her barn.”

  “The ones in the drawing,” Adam guessed.

  “That’s right. He’s always begging to visit them. In fact, I promised we’d go over there this afternoon, after William’s nap. If he naps. He claims he’s ready to give them up, but I’m not. I use the time to work…or I used to.” She laughed. “These days, bribery is the only way I can get him to lie down.”

  Her laugh was contagious. Adam grinned. “He’s a busy little guy.”

  “Don’t I know it. He keeps me on my toes.”

  Adam could tell she was a terrific mom.

  “I think he may have artistic talent,” Sam said.

  He nodded. “Does he get that from you or his father?” he asked, wanting to know about Sam’s ex.

  Her sudden, deep frown made him wish he hadn’t asked.

  “A distant cousin of my dad was a cartoonist, so maybe from him. But Jeff?” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “He doesn’t have an artistic bone in his body.”

  “You don’t like your ex much,” Adam guessed.

  “Why should I? He hasn’t given his son the time of day since he walked out on us almost three years ago.”

  “That sucks.” Adam shook his head and wondered how any man could walk away from this woman and her kid. A woman he’d started to like way more than was smart. “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened?”

  “I don’t mind. Things between us had gotten a little tense and awkward. I should have known something was off, but between William and my apprenticeship at the local bakery, I was so busy I didn’t even realize he’d fallen in love with someone else.”

  “Ouch.”

  “It was a big shock. The second our divorce became final, Jeff and Kayla got married. Fun times, for sure.” She snorted. “As difficult as the whole thing was for me, at least my adult brain could deal with it,” she went on. “But at barely two, William couldn’t possibly understand. He really missed his dad. It took over six months before he stopped asking for him. I will never forgive Jeff for that.”

  Sam was a small woman, didn’t quite reach Adam’s armpit. But when she crossed her arms, compressed her lips and narrowed her eyes, she reminded him of a mama bear, determined to protect her cub at all costs. Angry and protective. Irresistible.

  He wanted to lean across the table, cup her indignant face in his hands,
and kiss her until she forgot her ex and the grief he’d caused. But that meant trouble he didn’t want or need.

  He took a long pull of his coffee. “Jeff sounds like a real jerk.”

  “He is.”

  “I got married once, when I was eighteen.”

  “So young.”

  “Too young. Neither of us was ready to settle down.” Understatement of the year. “Looking back, we both confused teenage lust with love.”

  As soon as the thrill of sex anytime, day or night, had worn off, the marriage had quickly soured. Adam had dealt with his problems the same way his father had—drinking and staying out late. He and Fawn had argued a lot about that. One night after an especially bad fight, he’d headed for a bar and stayed until closing. Then he’d gone home with a woman he barely knew. Two weeks later, Fawn had filed for divorce.

  By then, their marriage had been over for months. Still, Adam blamed himself. He wasn’t proud he’d cheated on her. Since then, he’d cleaned up his act. Now, he rarely drank more than two beers in an evening, and when he dated a woman, he didn’t fool around with anyone else.

  None of that changed the fact he sucked at relationships.

  “Your girlfriend must be happy you’re home every night for a change,” Sam said. “I’ll bet she misses you during those forty-eight-hour shifts.”

  “I’m not dating anyone right now.” It’d been months, which explained why he was jonesing for sex and wanting so bad to kiss Sam.

  Time to out of here. He cleared his throat. “I should get going. Thanks for the coffee and cinnamon rolls.”

  “Thanks for fixing the faucet.”

  Adam helped her clear the table. At the door, she handed him his jacket.

  Unable to stop himself, he removed the ridiculous clip holding Sam’s bangs. His fingers lingered on her forehead, and he trailed them down her cheek. She had the softest skin.

  She sucked in a startled breath, and he fully expected her to bat him away. Instead, she surprised him, her expression softening and warming, her lips relaxing into lush fullness.

  Desire hit like a fist to the gut, and he forgot all about leaving. He wanted to taste her. Needed to. He grasped her forearms and pulled her up nice and close.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, the question belied by the flare of heat in her eyes.

  “What I wanted to do since I knocked on your door. This.” He brushed his mouth over hers, teasing and testing.

  For one paralyzing moment, she just stood there without responding. He expected her to pull away, but instead, her eyelids drifted shut. With a soft sigh, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and returned the kiss. Sweet and eager, better than he’d imagined in any late night fantasy. And lately, he’d more than a few of those.

  He angled his head and touched the seam between her lips with his tongue. They parted and she welcomed him. She tasted of coffee and cinnamon roll and something underneath that was hers alone.

  He was hard with need and ready to haul her upstairs to that bed of hers, get naked and sink into her heat, when she pushed her palms against his chest and broke the kiss.

  “Stop it, Adam.”

  As winded as if he’d sprinted up three-story building during a fire, he released her.

  Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilated and that mouth of hers…. Pink and a little swollen. Sweet Jeezus.

  Adam swallowed. “I, uh, if I stepped out of line, I apologize.”

  He waited for Sam to comment. Instead, she gave a dazed nod. He touched her cheek again. “I’ll see you later.”

  Aroused and aching, he walked out, shaking his head at what he’d started. He ought to be sorry, but all he could think about was coming back for more.

  *

  As soon as the door shut behind Adam, Samantha sank against it. As if the hard wood could cool her down. She hadn’t been held by a man since her marriage had started crumbling months before Jeff walked out, and except for an occasional peck on the cheek from William or her dad, she hadn’t been kissed. Not like this, with a thoroughness and hunger deeper than anything she’d experienced.

  Remembering, she went all tingly and antsy and wanting more, and knew she’d made big mistake.

  She glanced at the clock, surprised to see how late it was. There was no time to reflect on what had happened, let alone change out of her grubby clothes. She had to leave right now, or she’d be late picking up William. Samantha snatched her purse from the hook near the door and hurried out.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  “Where are the carrots I gave you?” Samantha asked, and she and William cut across the field behind the house. This morning’s sleet had melted away. The clouds had lifted, and the weak winter sun glinting off the trees made for a pretty walk.

  “Right here.” William stopped mid-step. Tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth, he pulled several carrots from the pockets of his parka.

  Despite Samantha’s attempts at bribery—a nap in exchange for the visit—her son was too keyed about seeing Betty, who he called Mrs. Randall, and Gordy and Cocoa, the two bay geldings stabled in her barn, to even consider a rest. So here they were, tromping across the field shortly after lunch.

  William shoved the horse treats back into his pockets, and they continued forward.

  “Do you think Gordy and Cocoa will be glad to see me?” he asked, his expression both solemn and hopeful.

  After nearly six months of weekly visits, he was still insecure, even about the friendship of the big animals. Just one of the lingering side-effects caused by his father’s desertion.

  Samantha’s heart broke a little, and for the thousandth time she wanted to strangle Jeff for his callousness. “They’ll be thrilled to see you, sweetie.”

  As if to attest to her words, the horses whinnied in the distance. “Did you hear that?” She smiled. “They know you’re on the way.”

  “Here I come, guys!” William hollered.

  He started to run, mud sucking at his boots. Picking her way around puddles, Samantha followed more slowly. By the time she reached the neighbor’s house, William had clomped across the porch to ring the doorbell.

  Betty answered with a broad smile. “Hello there, William. It’s good to see you, Samantha. I walked past your house earlier and saw that you had a visitor.”

  She knew the grizzly details about Jeff and that Samantha had moved to Guff’s Lake to start fresh. Not one to hold back her opinion, she’d been pushing Samantha to start dating again.

  Her speculative look made Samantha nervous. She didn’t want any questions or gossip about Adam’s visit. “A minor plumbing problem,” she explained.

  “Ah.” Betty engulfed William in a warm hug that caused her son to giggle. Then she gestured them inside. Samantha reminded William to first wipe his feet on the mat.

  As soon as William stepped through the door, he showed the older woman the carrots.

  She nodded. “Cocoa and Gordy will be very happy for those.”

  “We brought you something, too.” Samantha handed her neighbor a sack containing the scone and muffin she’d set aside from today’s orders.

  “I hoped you would.” Eyes twinkling, Betty rubbed her ample stomach. “How about a cup of coffee, Samantha? I have hot cocoa for you, William. The kind you like, with the mini-marshmallows.”

  Usually, her son would have raced to the kitchen in excitement. Today he hesitated. “But I want to see the horses.”

  Samantha gave an apologetic shrug. “Maybe after?”

  “Of course. Let me grab my coat and we’ll go on out.”

  The weathered barn stood roughly thirty feet beyond the house and was just big enough for two stalls, a shelf for supplies, and a half-dozen bales of hay.

  With gentle coaching from Betty, William took turns with the bays, blowing gently on one gelding’s nostrils before offering a carrot, then the other. Enjoying a few minutes of rare R and R, Samantha perched on a giant hay bale, leaned back against the raw plank wall, a
nd let her thoughts wander.

  Here in the stable with her son and her neighbor, she could almost forget about this morning with Adam.

  Almost, but not quite. Absently, she touched her lips and recalled the corded strength of his arms, holding her against his broad, solid chest. His mouth, hungry on hers. His arousal….

  Who was she kidding? She couldn’t forget a second of Adam’s bone-melting kisses.

  For three years, she’d been indifferent to masculine attention and uninterested in sex. But now, Adam had gone and changed everything.

  She wanted him to kiss her again and make her world spin. To taste his desire, press up close to his hard body.

  She had to admit she wanted more than kisses. A lot more.

  The dangerous thought scared her. She couldn’t allow herself to want Adam, and not just to protect herself. Jeff’s neglect had deeply wounded William. He didn’t need to get close to another man, only to be hurt again.

  For both her and her son’s sakes, she needed to steer clear of Adam.

  That shouldn’t be a problem, as they didn’t exactly hang out in the same social circles. Samantha didn’t even have a social circle. Friends, yes, but not much time for socializing.

  She doubted she would see Adam again.

  “Mom?” William frowned.

  “What, sweetie?”

  “I said, can we invite Adam over for dinner?”

  The question caught her by surprise. Her son hadn’t mentioned the man since their trip to the fire station earlier in the week.

  “Who’s Adam?” Betty asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “A super-duper cool firefighter,” William replied. “He put out the fire in Rosemary’s kitchen, and he showed me around the station, and I got to sit in the fire truck and look in the ambulance, and I had an awesome time.” His chest puffed out.

  Betty gave a canny smile. “That does sound super-duper cool.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Samantha hastened to explain.

  “What I think is, you’re young and single, and your son could use some male influence.”