Cathryn Fox - Pleasure Exchange (v1.0) Page 11

  Redirecting her thoughts, Cat stifled a yawn and rested her head against the seat. Exhaustion eased itself into her bones. It had been one hell of an afternoon. And to think tomorrow night, she'd have a repeat performance while he tested her responses to the serum.

  At the thought of tomorrow night her pulse rate kicked up a notch. Another repeat performance from the skilled scientist would surely be her emotional undoing. She let out a long slow breath. How could she continue to be his lab rat and remain unscathed?

  Sam pulled into his parking spot outside their condo, turned off the ignition, and shifted to face her. His eyes narrowed, his expression serious. "Are you okay?"

  She nodded, feeling anything but. The way he looked at her with such tender concern made her throat tighten and heart ache. As she studied him, her chest hurt. Gut instinct told her to go home, run, lock the door, and never set eyes on Sam again. Entering into his territory, his personal space, and engaging in easy, playful banter over a casual meal would test the small brace holding the pieces of her heart together. She gazed into his Laguna blue eyes and felt herself drowning.

  "How does grilled cheese sound? It's my specialty."

  Apparently his culinary skills were right up there with hers. Cat gave an uneasy smile.

  He must have sensed her hesitation. He didn't give her a chance to voice an argument. "Let me make you something to eat and then I'll walk you home," he pressed. The sexy lilt of his voice pulled at her, drawing her deeper into a dangerous place.

  He smiled and that was all it took for her rational thought to pack up and take a vacation. One simple smoldering smile from him had her giving into temptation and going completely against her best interests.

  Cat stretched out her body. Her muscles hurt. In all the right places. "Okay. My fridge is empty anyway."

  Sam stepped from the Jeep and circled around to meet her. Gathering her hand in his he led her to his condo.

  Suddenly, Sam stopped midstride. His mouth twisted into a frown. "Jesus, Cat. Two guys? At once?" He slipped his arm around her waist in a possessive manner and dragged her to him.

  She felt his muscles bunch with tension. Tipping her chin, she took in the flare of anger in his eyes. "What are you talking about? "

  He nodded toward her condo door.

  Cat followed his gaze. "Oh." She waved. "Hey guys, over here."

  As they came toward her, Sam widened his stance and tightened his hold on her. She heard him curse something incoherent under his breath.

  "Sam, I'd like you to meet Mason and Luke."

  Sam just stood there, legs wide, feet planted, staring at the two with a scowl on his face. Cat nudged him. "Don't be rude to my brothers."

  Sam's head came up with a start. His face softened; his mood lightened. "Oh," he said, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you both. I didn't realize Cat had two brothers."

  It occurred to her that Sam thought she was engaging in God knows what with two guys. At once! Like she was the one who was the local amusement ride.

  "And we didn't realize she had a boyfriend," Mason said, assessing Sam.

  Cat squared her shoulders. "That's because my private life is none of your business." She turned to Sam. "Sorry, Sam. Growing up the youngest girl with six older brothers hasn't been easy."

  Sam smiled. "Six brothers?"

  "Yeah, six brothers who come and go at all hours to check up on me." She turned to Mason and Luke, giving them a look that made them both take a measured step back. She loved her brothers with everything in her, but she just wished they'd give her a bit of breathing space. "Was there something you both wanted? "

  Mason kicked at an imaginary stone. "Not really. I called a few times last night and you weren't home and Luke stopped by your paper today and you weren't there so we just thought we'd come by and see if everything was okay."

  Exasperated, Cat shook her head and grinned. "I'm fine." She waved her hand at them. "Go home to your wives."

  Sam clapped Mason on the back. "She's fine. Trust me. She's in good hands. I promise."

  Cat shivered, remembering exactly how good those hands were. Leaning in, Cat gave her brothers a kiss on their cheeks and shooed them away. As they turned to leave, she grabbed Mason's elbow and said, "Give little Matt a hug for me and let him know I still have my rock. Tell Sarah I'll try to get by on the weekend."

  As they moved away, Sam turned to her. "I like them," Sam said, sounding much happier than he had a few minutes ago.

  "Good," she said, and wondered why that was so important to her.

  As they continued on their way to Sam's condo, Cat wondered for a brief moment if she'd get a glimpse of his bedroom, to see if it looked any different from the inside. Sam unlocked his door, pushed it open, and gestured for her to enter. Always the gentleman, she mused.

  She looked around, orienting herself. Familiarity hit. A replica of her place. Same layout. Same gray-colored carpet and off-white walls. Cat had planned to change the awful color just as soon as she found some spare time.

  She tipped her head and glanced at Sam. "For a second there I thought I was home."

  Sam shrugged off his coat, eased hers from her shoulders, and hung them in the entrance closet. The simple, domestic, normal, everyday act of him hanging her coat made her feel all weird inside.

  He gestured with a wave. "Then I guess you already know where the kitchen is?"

  Cat smiled and slipped off her shoes. Her feet were still killing her from her heels last night. She followed Sam down the short hallway. Her gaze journeyed to his ass. She brushed her tongue over her bottom lip and suppressed a growl of longing. Shame that her condo lacked that lovely masterpiece.

  He motioned toward the cluttered table. "Sorry about the mess, I would have cleaned up if I had known you were coming over."

  "It doesn't look any different from my place. I like to think of it as organized clutter."

  Sam chuckled. "I've never quite heard it put that way before. Just push the stuff out of your way and grab a seat. Would you like a coffee or tea?"

  "I'd love a tea, thanks." Cat gathered the newspapers from the chair and table and neatly piled them while Sam filled the kettle and then made a quick trip to the bathroom to wash up. A stack of cutout articles caught her attention. She reached for them. Her breath stalled as she flipped through the pieces. She spent a long moment just staring at them. Sam returned from washing up and grabbed the cheese slices from the fridge.

  She worked to recover her voice. "Sam?"

  Sam placed the frying pan on the stove and turned to face her. "What's up?"

  She fanned the articles in the air. "You read my articles?"

  He folded his arms and leaned against his countertop. "Yeah."

  Surprise registered on her face. Her voice rose a notch. "And you cut them out and keep them?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

  Sam pushed off from the counter, took two steps toward her, and brushed her hair from her face. His soft caress, so tender and gentle, made her knees wobble. Sam dipped his head, his voice softened. "Is that so hard to believe? "

  She shrugged and lowered her eyes. "I… I… it just surprises me is all."

  "Well, you shouldn't be surprised. Your articles are great, Cat. Worth a second read." He cupped her chin and lifted her gaze to his.

  She opened her eyes wide and met his glance. "You really like them?"

  Sam rolled one shoulder. "Sure. Everyone at work does too." He rifled through them. "This one here about a guy's quick trip to the E.R. after his girlfriend turned him into a banana split and mistakenly chomped down on the wrong banana is my favorite. Someone read this one out loud in the lunchroom. It had us laughing all day."

  She lowered herself into the chair, furrowed her brow, and tossed him a skeptical look. "Really?"

  He threw his hands up. "Yes, Cat. Really. Why do you find that so hard to believe?"

  She stammered. "I don't know. I knew they were popular but they're just fluff pieces." She rotated her ankles and rubbe
d the pad of her thumb over her heel. Sam sat across from her, gathered her feet, and took over the massage.

  Cat shimmied lower in her seat. "Mmmm… feels good. Thanks."

  His voice had taken on a serious edge. His lips thinned. "Cat, do you enjoy writing these articles? "

  She smiled, then hesitated before answering. "I do. It's just that I want to write something important, something that matters."

  A frown furrowed his brow. He grabbed a stack of papers and plunked them down in front of her. He flipped open a page. "Tell me what you see."

  She raised an inquisitive brow. "What are you doing?"

  "Just tell me. What do you see?" he pressed.

  "I see news articles."

  "About what?"

  Cat leaned in closer, squinted, and read the first caption. "Murder."

  Sam flipped a page. "And here, what do you see?"

  "Drug bust."

  He pointed to another caption farther down the page. "And here?"

  "Political scandal." She sighed and leaned back. "What's your point?"

  He shook his head and tossed her a perplexed frown. "This is what you want to write? This is what you consider important?"

  "I just want to make a difference."

  He raked his hair from his forehead, obviously frustrated. "Don't you see? You do make a difference. Your amusing articles take the sting out of everyday life. They remind us how to smile. That not everything in life is bad." He waved his hand toward the paper. "Don't undervalue yourself. What you do is as important, if not more important, than what these other journalists do. You brighten up our days."

  Shocked.

  A description befitting her current emotion. Shocked and touched, actually. She'd had no idea that Sam had such respect for her work. She opened her mouth but no words formed.

  The whistling kettle drew Sam's attention. She watched as he stood, gently placed her feet on his chair, and went about preparing her tea.

  She'd never considered her work important before. She always equated success with writing hard-hitting news, at least that's what had always been pounded into her by her parents.

  Was Sam right? Was she undervaluing herself? Was she already a success and just hadn't realized it? She had to admit, she loved writing those humorous pieces, loved meeting new people, and hearing their dating and mating woes.

  Sam came back with the hot drink. "I understand that drive to succeed, Cat. I have that same drive myself. This project I'm working on has consumed me for the last six months. Believe me, I'm not undermining what you think is important. But I think you're missing something. You're already a success." He spread his arms wide to emphasize the point. "A huge success."

  She lowered her voice. "Thank you, Sam." Her heart turned over in her chest as she took a moment to let his words sink in. To reevaluate things.

  She lowered her head and spoke into her cup. "It was my father's dream to see me follow in his footsteps. After he died, it pushed me that much harder. I wanted to make him proud of me."

  Sam touched her hand and squeezed. "I'm sorry, Cat. But I do think he would be proud of you. Proud to know how wonderful your columns are, how many people they touch."

  Cat swallowed the lump in her throat. Had she been chasing the wrong dream all along? Had it taken Sam York to make her see that? Or had she really known that all along.

  She glanced at him. "Did you always want to be a scientist?" She sipped her tea and studied his expression.

  His low chuckle curled around her and seeped beneath her skin. "For as long as I can remember, I was always doing some kind of experiment in the basement. I've blown up a few things in my day. The fire department knew me much better than they should have." He picked her feet up and eased them back onto his lap.

  Ticklish, she wiggled her toes as he resumed his massage. She smiled as the image of a young, geeky, scientific Sam rushed through her mind. "I bet your mom loved that."

  He frowned. She could feel tension rising in him. "I wouldn't know. It was just me and my dad. When something bigger and better came along my mom bailed."

  "Bigger and better?" Cat's heart stalled, recalling how her father had always used those same words.

  "Yeah, a better job, a better husband, a bigger house, and a bigger bank account. After my mom left, my father had plenty of different women coming and going. It was the same with them too. They left when bigger and better came along."

  She reached out and touched his hand, her heart twisting in her chest. She felt so close to him at that moment. Something told her he'd just opened up and shared a private, painful side of him that he'd never shared before.

  "I'm sorry, Sam."

  He shrugged and stood. "It doesn't matter anymore. It was a long time ago."

  It may have been a long time ago, but Cat suspected it had a profound impact on his life and his lifestyle. Was this the reason Sam played the field, a different woman every week? Was he afraid to get too close only to have a woman leave him after he offered his heart?

  Over the last few days Cat had caught glimpses of the true Sam. She could see beneath that playboy façade. He was giving, nurturing, caring, and so very, very vulnerable.

  Cat's stomach took that moment to grumble. Sam smiled. "I'd better feed you before you pass out on me."

  "Can I help?"

  "Nope, just enjoy your tea."

  "Sounds good to me," she said, stretching out.

  Sam chuckled.

  "Actually, I need to wash up, too. Can I use your bathroom?"

  He waved his spatula toward the hall. "Sure, you know where it is."

  Cat stood, pushed up on her tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to Sam's cheek, needing almost desperately to make an intimate connection.

  He seemed shocked by the gesture. He gripped the sides of her hips. "What was that for?"

  One shoulder rolled. "For being so sweet."

  He gruffed, "Sweet? I'm not sweet. I'm badass. You must have me confused with someone else."

  Cat lowered her voice. "There is no one else, Sam."

  Something in his expression changed. His eyes softened, his hand touched her cheek and traced the pattern of her face. "Go wash up, this will just take a second." She was astonished by the tenderness in his voice.

  She gave a tight nod, twisted around to leave, and felt his eyes on her as she rounded the corner. As she made her way to the bathroom, she glanced at the walls and noted all the baby pictures. "Are these pictures of you, Sam?"

  "No, they're my goddaughter." She heard the love in his voice.

  Cat felt her heart tighten. Sam had a goddaughter and plastered pictures of her all over his walls. Well, that simply confirmed it; there was way more to this man than met the eye.

  Cat closed the bathroom door and washed up. When she stepped back into the hall, she took another moment to look at the pictures of the beautiful baby girl. She wondered if Sam wanted kids.

  "What's her name?"

  "Samantha, after me." She could hear the pride in his voice.

  "She's beautiful." Cat stepped back into the kitchen as Sam placed her sandwich on the table.

  "I'm babysitting her this weekend. Maybe you can stop by."

  Cat saw the love and longing shining in his eyes. Her stomach rolled, but not from hunger. "I'd like that." Her own voice was rough with emotion.

  Turning her attention to her sandwich, she bit into it. Trying for casual she said, "This is delicious."

  "Good," Sam said.

  "I'd have to say this is the best grilled cheese I've ever had." She grinned and added with a wink. "Probably because I didn't have to make it."

  Sam chuckled and sat beside her, taking a bite out of his own sandwich.

  Cat glanced around. "Where's Rio."

  "At the lab. After I drop you off, I'll go get her. Sometimes I leave her at the lab, but I'd feel better if she's with me tonight."

  A few minutes later, after their sandwiches were gone, Cat sat back, stretched, and gave a contented sigh. She gl
anced at the clock, knowing she should go, but not wanting the day to end.

  "I should probably go. It's getting late and you need to go get Rio."

  "And we still have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow night," he reminded her. "Come on. I'll walk you to your door."

  As she walked by another stack of pictures of Samantha on her way to the door, she thought of her nephew Matt, and how much she loved to snuggle and play with him. How much joy and love he brought into her life.

  She felt Sam's hand close over hers. When his thumb softly brushed her skin in a warm caress, she wondered, for the first time in ages, what she really wanted in life. She'd been living her father's dream for so long she'd forgotten what her own dreams were, what made her happy.

  She swallowed, needing time alone to sort through her feelings. "I'm fine, Sam. It's just across the courtyard."

  He ignored her protest and followed her to his door.

  She rolled her eyes. "You're worse than my brothers."

  He dipped his head. His hair fell forward and she didn't even hesitate to push it off his forehead. "I promised them you were in good hands, and I don't break my promises." When she gazed into his eyes, she knew there was a new closeness between them. She felt it in every fiber of her being.

  Like the true gentleman he was, he helped her with her coat, circled his arm around her shoulder, and hastily walked her across the dimly lit courtyard.

  Standing outside her condo, she crimped her neck to look at him. Warmth settled in her stomach. "Thanks, Sam." Turning around, she inserted her key into the lock and pushed open her door. "I'll see you in the morning then," she said, remembering she'd left her car at the paper.

  Sam cupped her elbow and urged her back. His roped muscles tightened. "Cat. I was wondering," he said, his voice a gruff whisper.

  She twisted to face him. Dear God, when his deep blue eyes looked directly at her like that, it was possible to forget every sane thought. He tucked her hair behind her ear. A grin curled his mouth as he inched forward. His sensuous lips were so close she could almost taste them.

  She squared her shoulders, her spine starched. "What is it?"

  His rich baritone licked over her thighs. A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Should I leave my blinds open tonight?"