False Impressions Read online

  “If I were a stop light, I'd turn red every time you passed by, just so I could stare at you a bit longer.”

  She snorted and gathered her hair in one hand and pulled it through an elastic band. Too bad. It was sexy as hell curled on her shoulders. “You’re not going to accomplish anything by standing around. What’s on the agenda for today?”

  He was tempted to say you, but he bit back the retort and nodded toward the house. “Finishing work. We need to install the rest of the window trim, lay the kitchen tile, and paint. I hope to be done with this beast by the end of next week.”

  He held the door open for her and she breezed past him smelling soft and sweet as his mother’s apple pie.

  “Geesh, are you always so pessimistic? We can finish the job by the end of the week.”

  Cole laughed. “You gotta be out of your mind. It’s only you and me working here.”

  “Okay, Tuesday of next week at the latest.”

  “You said you were only available part-time. Something change?”

  “No.” Sam picked up a load of trim and carried it upstairs. “I’m fast and efficient, Mr. Tucker.”

  “Cole. And nobody’s that good.” He picked up the nail gun and a box of nails, following her up the stairs.

  “Sounds like a challenge to me.” She smiled, grabbing the nail gun from him and climbed the ladder.

  “Let’s make this interesting,” he said as he held the trim above the window so Sam could nail it. “We finish on Tuesday. You win. If we finish any other day, I win.”

  “Right side needs to go a centimeter higher.” She studied the board, fired the gun, gestured for the next board, and then looked down at him from the ladder. “What’s to prevent you from sabotaging my win and making the job stretch to Wednesday?” She squinted and pulled the trigger again.

  “First, I want to be done with this place and move on to the thirty thousand other jobs that need to get done. Second, I’m paying you by the hour, so it’s in my favor to hurry up, and third…I don’t cheat.”

  “Hmm. Okay. You’re on. What do I win?”

  Cole wanted to skim her body with his gaze, but he kept his eyes locked on hers. “Winner decides when the time comes.”

  “What if I want double my pay?”

  Damn, he liked her. He placed a hand on the bottom rung of the ladder by her foot and smiled. “Little lady, there ain’t a chance in hell of you winning.”

  * * * *

  They worked well together, and Sam liked the banter they had going between them. He tossed out the occasional flirtatious line, but it seemed to be his style and nothing personal. By Friday, things were looking in her favor. They’d trimmed out all the windows and doors, primed the entire apartment, and laid the kitchen tile, which still needed to be grouted. And they could tackle the painting Monday afternoon and all day Tuesday.

  Growing up with three older brothers taught Sam to be extremely competitive at a very young age. Not only did she want to win, she wanted to smoke this contest out of the water. She formulated her plan on her way to Happy Hearts to pick up Levi.

  Her adorable little boy greeted her at the door with a great big jump hug. “Mommy! Today was Anthony’s birthday and we had cupcakes. I had chocolate, and it had green frosting, and I had a green mustache!”

  “Did you save any for me?”

  “No. I ate it all!” He squirmed out of her arms and raced to his cubby. “Ms. Mimi helped me draw-id a shark like on my shark shirt.” The coveted shirt had to be hidden four days a week and at bedtime, or he’d wear it every day to school.

  “It’s beautiful. Be sure to thank Ms. Mimi.”

  “Oh, he did,” Ms. Mimi said and winked at Levi. “He’s so precious, Sam. And very well behaved.”

  Sam turned to smile at the woman who took such great care of her son. “Thank you. We’ll see how he does this afternoon. I’m painting an apartment and hoping he’ll entertain himself. He usually does quite well when I’m doing projects at home, but I need to finish up at a worksite.” He came running back with his backpack and crafts from the day. “Hey sweetie. Guess what we’re going to do this afternoon?”

  “Go to the beach?” He beamed.

  Sam kneeled so she was eye level with her son. “No, bud. It’s much too cold for the beach. Mommy still has to work a little bit more today, but you can come with me! I packed your sleeping bag and you can nap in any room you choose.”

  “Really? Can I sleep in the baf-room?”

  “Hmm, I don’t think that would be very comfortable. How about one of the bedrooms upstairs?”

  “Excuse me, Sam.” Ms. Mimi put her hand on Sam’s arm. “But if you still have work to do, I don’t mind watching Levi.”

  Sam stood up and smiled. “Oh, that is very kind of you, but you don’t have to do that.” There were plenty of small towns in Connecticut, but she’d grown up in the city and had hoped to find a sense of comradery in her new neighborhood in Newhall. Ms. Mimi and Al at the hardware store, and even Cole, had instantly made her feel like a welcomed member of the community.

  “I know I don’t have to, but I would love to. I have a spare bedroom I finished making up this week that I’ve been itching to use for one of my grandkids. Levi can even bring his sleeping bag if it will make him feel more comfortable. Then I plan on doing a lot of Christmas baking.” Ms. Mimi turned her attention to Levi. “Do you like to make cookies? Because I sure could use a lot of help. And I always need a taster to let me know if the cookies are okay.”

  “Yes!” Levi jumped up and down. “I’ll be your taster! I love tasting cookies!”

  Clearly outnumbered and touched by kindness, Sam caved. “Thank you.” She turned to her son. “And you, big guy, will need to use your best manners. And no tasting cookies until after you’ve had a nap. Clear mister?”

  “Yay! I love you Mommy.”

  Her heart melted and she covered her little boy in kisses.

  Sam smiled at Ms. Mimi. “I can’t thank you enough. I haven’t had the time or a reason to find a babysitter around here. If there’s any way I can repay you—”

  “Oh goodness, please. You repay me by letting me play with your son. He’s about the same age as my grandbabies, and I don’t think I can ever get enough.”

  After an exchange of phone numbers and moving the booster seat into the older woman’s car, Sam raced back to the apartment. She found the hidden key under the back porch and let herself in. In record time, she painted both bedrooms and the upstairs bathroom before calling in to check on Levi. After lots of convincing that he slept like a log and hadn’t been up long enough to do much “tasting,” she tackled the living room and downstairs half-bath.

  Thankfully, Cole rejected her color scheme ideas and went with the monochromatic beige, which made the job much faster. She couldn’t wait to see the shock on his face on Monday.

  Heck, who was she kidding? Sam couldn’t wait to see his face. Period.

  * * * *

  All weekend Levi chattered nonstop telling Sam stories of Ms. Mimi’s kitchen and all the cookie testing he did. He even brought home a platter of cookies. Apparently they were quite busy in the little kitchen. Monday morning finally came around, and for the first time, Sam had something to look forward to. She couldn’t wait to see Cole’s reaction. Not because he had amazing sable eyes or adorable dimples when he flirted with her. Her excitement was due to the work she’d done over the weekend.

  Or so she told herself. Again. And again.

  The past four years had been dedicated entirely to Levi and surviving day-to-day routines. Since moving to New Hampshire, Sam found a new passion in restoring the little camp on the lake. While that had satisfied her for some months, her new job brought a whole new meaning to her life. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was more satisfying to help with restorations and have others see the fruit of her labor, than to work on her own home that she shared with a four-year-old.

  Cole told her about the fire that gutted out the half of the duplex they
were working on. Apparently his soon-to-be sister-in-law was a victim of a psycho-killer and was burned out of her home. Thankfully she wasn’t home that night, but Cole, who had lived in the other half, was. He’d gotten out okay, and his side only had minor smoke and water damage.

  He now lived on his family’s farm and she wondered if he planned on moving back to the other half of the duplex, but didn’t ask. It was none of her business. She couldn’t picture him as the family-type. He had “bachelor” written all over him, not that it impacted her in any way, shape, or form. A fun boss to work with—and look at—that’s it.

  Having fun picturing Cole’s reaction when he opened the door to the duplex, Sam leaned against her truck and breathed in her hands, attempting to warm them. She brought Levi with her Saturday and had finished all the painting and couldn’t wait to see her opponent’s face when he realized he lost the bet. Of course now she’d have to figure out what she wanted in return for winning.

  “You look like a cool glass of refreshing water, and I am the thirstiest man in the world,” Cole said as he slid out of his truck, his warm breath forming a cloud in the cold air.

  Sam rolled her eyes and hid her smirk. “Don’t you mean ice-cold beer? Or maybe hot cup of coffee on this freezing morning?”

  His smile faltered for a moment but returned before she could make anything more of it. “Come inside, princess. You have your work cut out for you. Meanwhile, I think I’m gonna sit back and think about what I want for my win—” He stopped short as he opened the door. A faint odor of paint and the sight of beige walls welcomed them. “Well, I’ll be dammed. You little sneak. When the hell did you do this?”

  “I think I’ll go sit on the steps and file my nails while I think about what I want.”

  “Not so fast, short stuff. We still have to finish grouting the kitchen.”

  “Which will take an hour. Two tops and then I win.”

  Cole muttered something under his breath, and Sam no longer tried to hide her smile. She whistled while she mixed the grout and could practically hear the gears working in his head.

  She smeared on the grout and he washed it off. Country music had never been her thing before, but she liked some of the songs that came on the radio. Taylor Swift and Lady Antebellum were often played on her top forty radio stations, but over the course of the week she grew to like songs by Brad Paisley and Kenney Chesney. There were moments when a song came on about a lost love and her heart would ache as she listened to the lyrics, but as soon as the sentimental song ended, something crazy about a tractor or fishing would come on, and Cole would make her laugh with his terrible singing.

  And the music seemed to fit Cole Tucker to a T. Fun, flirty and not a care in the world. Time passed quickly and soon enough they were rinsing out the buckets of muddy water.

  Leaning against the kitchen counter, Cole slowly canvassed the apartment and shook his head. “We done good, girl.”

  “Thanks. Now about that bet.” She tapped her finger to her lip. “I’m thinking a trip to the Bahamas. Maybe a cruise. But to be more practical, I could use a new snow blower. The one I have is older than me.”

  “Nah, uh. You didn’t win the bet, short stuff.”

  “Excuse me?” Sam placed both hands on her hips and glared up at her boss. “I said Tuesday and it’s Monday. We finished up even earlier than expected.”

  “Yes. And if you recall, the bet was you win if we’re done Tuesday. I win if we’re done any other day.”

  She snorted. “Any day after Tuesday.”

  Cole shook his head. “Nope. A bet’s a bet. I won fair and square. We agreed on any day but Tuesday. You should have specified the after bit.”

  “You…” Sam curled her lip and glared.

  “Spit it out. I can’t tell you how much it will turn me on to hear you curse,” Cole laughed. “Even after you dropped that tile on your finger all you said was ‘shoot.’ Give me something more. Call me a bastard. I want to see something foul come out of that pretty little mouth.” He leaned back against the counter and folded his arms, his forest green waffle crew-neck shirt pulling against his chest, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  “Moron,” she muttered as he laughed. “What do you want?”

  “I’ll go easy on you this time. How about dinner?”

  “Dinner?” she asked, surprised.

  “Sure. And to make it more troublesome, how about you cook me dinner. You can cook, can’t you?”

  “Sexist are we?”

  “Honey, if I was sexist I wouldn’t have hired you.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t want to hire me.”

  “Don’t I know it? I gave Al a hard time for setting me up like that, but you turned out all right in the end.” He winked and pulled on her ponytail. “Dinner. Tomorrow night. Say six?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Sure it is. I need to head out to the farm. I’ll see you tomorrow. And oh,” he said, pausing at the door. “I like meat and potatoes. None of that vegetarian crap.”

  * * * *

  She hadn’t had a man to her house for dinner since Adam died. Not even her brothers. They’d crushed her with sympathy take-out or Mom’s casseroles for months; but she’d stopped eating meals for nearly a year, practically starving herself with grief; until her family threatened to tie her down and force-feed her. She knew she needed to keep up her strength to take care of Levi, but she didn’t want anyone sitting at the kitchen table she’d shared with Adam for so many years. And now another man would be taking his place, filling the space where her husband had sat for every dinner. Where he’d eaten his Honey Nut Cheerios every morning before giving her a kiss and heading out to work.

  Guilt washed over her. No, she wasn’t replacing her husband. She’d lost a bet and had to cook dinner for her incredibly hot boss. No big deal. Right?

  Just to spite him, she made vegetable lasagna; noodles replaced by thin slivers of zucchini. Levi wasn’t a big fan of veggies, but he could hardly tell the casserole was loaded with the healthy stuff. She spread a thick layer of a butternut squash-low fat cheese sauce and another of a hearty ragu, rich with finely minced carrots, mushrooms, peppers and onions. Definitely not date food.

  After covering the dish in foil and popping it in the oven, she began working on the garlic bread—extra garlic. No need to worry about bad breath tonight. While mincing the vegetables for the lasagna she left some larger chunks to mix in with the baby spinach, and all she had left to do was toss it together for a quick salad.

  One quick glance at the clock and she hurried upstairs to change out of her jeans and sweatshirt. Just because it wasn’t a date didn’t mean she had to look like she came from the worksite, but she wouldn’t dress up either. Rummaging through her closet for something that said “friendly dinner with the boss,” she sighed and pulled out a pair of dark jeans and a blue, long-sleeve, V-neck shirt.

  And right on time, the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it!” Levi hollered and ran to the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s…Cole Tucker.” She heard his familiar deep voice and her belly tightened in anticipation.

  “Who are you?”

  “Um, Cole Tucker?”

  “Mommy. Someone is here!” Levi yelled up the stairs.

  With no time to check her hair or makeup, Sam ran down the stairs in her bare feet and gently moved her son aside, sighing when she saw he had dressed up in his company attire—his Spider-Man costume.

  “He is Mommy’s boss, remember? I want you to use your best manners.”

  Levi nodded and opened the door.

  *

  Cole looked questioningly at the three-foot Spider-Man standing in front of Sam and then slowly trailed his gaze up to meet hers. Not without first noticing her bare feet and the sexy pink nail polish on her toes.

  “I had a line all ready, but Spidey threw me a curve ball.”

  “Yes. I should have given you a head’s up. Um, come in.” Sam backed away f
rom the door and gestured him in. “This is my son, Levi. Levi, this is Mr. Tucker, my boss.”

  “Hi,” Levi whispered, as his brown eyes grew larger behind his Spider-Man mask.

  “Hey, Spidey. I brought these for your mom, but I’m pretty sure she’ll share them with you.” He pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to Levi.

  He backed away and shook his head. “Flowers are for girls. I’m a boy.”

  “Good point. Can you give these to your mom for me?”

  Sam chewed the inside of her lip. “You didn’t need to bring flowers. I was the one who lost the bet. Even though you cheated.” She accepted the flowers from her son and turned toward the kitchen.

  “My mother taught me never to show up to dinner empty-handed.” Normally he would have brought a bottle of wine but didn’t think that would go over well with his AA counselor.

  “And I apologize for my son. He’s infatuated with Spider-Man. He’s had this costume for three months, and I’ve had to sew up more holes in it than…well, I don’t do a lot of sewing, but let me tell you, we’ve certainly got our money’s worth out of it.”

  He had a dozen questions. The first was why she’d never mentioned having a son. Hopefully there wasn’t a husband lurking around the corner or a boyfriend ready to stuff Cole’s balls down his throat. While they talked a lot during the past week while working on the duplex, neither one of them offered too much information about their personal lives.

  He knew she moved up here from Connecticut and came from a long line of construction workers. Other than that, Samantha Chase was a mystery to him. But the delicious smells coming from the kitchen made him temporarily forget any nagging questions he had for her.

  “Come on in. Dinner is about ready. Levi, go wash up and remove your mask before coming to the table.” He looked sheepishly up at Cole and ran down the hall to the bathroom. “He’s a little shy around strangers, but he’ll loosen up. Brace yourself. Once he starts, he doesn’t stop.”

  “I didn’t know you had a son. Does his father live around here?”

  Her shoulders stiffened and she turned her back to him as she busied herself in the refrigerator. “No. He died almost five years ago.”