False Impressions Page 3

  The picture of a man about his age stuck on the fridge stared at him, making him feel like a shmuck. “God. I’m so sorry, Sam. I didn’t know.”

  “How would you?” She turned and smiled. “What can I get you to drink? I have diet coke, iced tea, juice, milk…not much for adult beverages. I don’t drink much.”

  “Me either. Iced tea would be perfect.”

  Obviously she didn’t want to talk about the boy’s father, but that wouldn’t stop Cole from bringing it up another day. He didn’t do deep personal conversations with his girlfriends, preferring to keep things light and sexual. But she wasn’t a potential date. She worked for him, plain and simple.

  Cole snorted to himself. No, there was nothing plain or simple about the fine beauty in front of him. On the jobsite she carried herself with strength and pride. But at home with her pretty toes peeking out from the bottom of her tight jeans and her luscious curves stretching out her T-shirt she was something else. He noticed her hand shake as she poured two glasses of tea. Funny how a nail gun and a paintbrush put so much power and confidence in the little lady, but having a man over for a home cooked meal in her house made her nervous.

  The little guy, Levi, sneaked back in the kitchen, wrapped his arms around his mom’s legs and peeked up at Cole. “Sweetie, what would you like to drink? Milk or juice?” And damn if he didn’t look like a little replica of the guy on the fridge. Cole had no business having dinner with this family. Hell, he had no business being in her house. He ran a hand across his face thinking of a way to get out of there.

  “Milk,” Levi whispered before putting his mask back on.

  Like a choreographed dance, Sam moved gracefully to the cabinet and pulled down a sippy cup and shimmied to the fridge all while Spidey cocooned himself around her legs. She poured the milk, screwed the top on the spill-proof cup.

  “Would you mind putting these on the table?” She asked as she handed the cup to Cole and then gestured to the glasses of tea on the counter. When she turned her smiling eyes to him he couldn’t say no. He’d do anything for widower Samantha Chase, the gorgeous five-feet-nothing carpenter who made his mind spin faster than a drill bit.

  “Sure. No problem. Anything else I can do?”

  “Plates are in the last cabinet and silverware in the drawer underneath.”

  The kitchen was small, a typical camp style with a tiny eat-in kitchen area. He only had to take one step from the table to the cabinets and Sam and her son were only a yard away. The space should have felt cramped, but it was cozy. The tile floor looked new, but the painted cabinets had seen better days. He remembered her saying something about wanting to strip the paint and restore the natural wood. The walls were painted a sunny yellow and were decorated with Levi’s artwork. Cole took out three red, heavy plates that seemed more like pottery than any type of china, and found three forks in the drawer.

  He didn’t have much of a chance to check out the living room—too much in shock over seeing a little guy and then doubly shocked when he saw what lay beneath the layers of sweatshirts and flannel that Sam usually donned on the worksite.

  “Levi, honey. Have a seat so Mommy can put the food on the table. And take your mask off.”

  “But the man didn’t get my plate,” he whispered.

  “His name is Mr. Tucker,” she said to Levi and then looked up at Cole, “Levi likes to use his Spider-Man plate. It’s in the next cabinet over.”

  “Sure.” He put one red plate away and found the plastic child’s plate. “Wow. This is awesome. I wish I had a plate like this. Actually, I think I did when I was your age, only it was Star Wars.”

  “Really?” The kid pulled away from his mother’s legs, but left one hand gripping her jeans.

  “Yeah. I wish I still had it.”

  “You can use one of my plates if you want.”

  “Seriously? You’d let me? That would be so cool.” Cole rummaged through the kid plates and found a Thomas the Tank Engine plate that had three little dividers. “How about this one? I’ve always wanted to go on a train.”

  Levi shook his head. “Okay. But you can’t keep it.” He slowly removed his mask and placed it on his chair.

  “I’ll wash it up really well when I’m done. Thanks buddy.” Cole put another pottery plate away and set the kid plate down.

  Sam cocked her head and shook it. “Cole, you can use a regular plate for dinner.”

  He acted insulted. “No way. This is the coolest plate ever.” He watched Sam hide a smile as she set the food on the table. They sat down to eat and he piled his plate high with food. It took four servings on the child-size plate to finally fill his stomach.

  “So, who is better, Spider-Man or Batman?”

  The little guy’s dark eyes squinted as he thought long and hard over the question. “Spider-Man can shoot webs like this.” He used his left hand to push down his right middle and ring finger and shot out his remaining fingers. “Pew, pew, pew!” He made shooting noises with his mouth and pretended to cover Cole in spider webs. “But Batman has a cape and lives in the Batcave and drives a super-duper fast car.”

  “Good point,” Cole said as he stretched back in his chair.

  “Next Halloween I’m gonna be Batman. Or maybe the Joker, but probably Batman or Iron Man.”

  “Wow, some tough choices.”

  “Spider-Man’s name is really Peter Parker. He got bited by a radioactive spider, and so now he can make spider webs. Pew, pew, pew!”

  “That’s pretty cool. Sometimes I wish I had superhero powers. I always wanted to have x-ray vision.”

  “What’s s-ray bison?”

  “X-ray vision means you can see through walls.” Or clothing but he didn’t add that part.

  “Wow. I wish I could fly.”

  “Yeah, when I was your age, I thought I could. One time I—”

  Sam cleared her throat. “Levi does not need any suggestions on how to fly. He’s already attempted it twice,” she scolded.

  Biting back a laugh and a mental high-five for the kid, he said, “Horseback riding is a good alternative. When you’re on top of the horse and it’s galloping through a field, it feels just like flying. Kinda like the Lone Ranger.”

  “Are you kidding me? Can I go sometime?”

  He laughed at the kid’s excitement. “Sure,” he said as Sam said, “No.”

  “Enough about superheroes and daredevil stunts. Levi, you need a bath.”

  “But I want to play with Mr. Tupper.”

  “Mr. Tucker is heading home. I need to clean the kitchen and you need to take a bath.”

  “But Mommy—”

  “No, buts. I’ll start your bath. You go pick out your jammies.”

  “But I wanna sleep in my Spider-Man costume.”

  “You have lasagna all over it. I’ll wash it tonight so you can wear it to bed tomorrow. Go.” Sam shooed him down the hall toward his room.

  Cole stood and started gathering dishes from the table. “Dinner was delicious. Thanks. And yeah, I did notice all the veggies in the lasagna, but I wasn’t about to complain in front of Spidey.”

  “We eat pretty healthy. Just because you bullied your way to dinner didn’t mean I had to serve a fatty meal.”

  Cole laughed and leaned against the counter as she filled the sink with soapy water. “Bullied? I won fair and square. You’re a poor loser…but a damn fine worker. And a pretty good cook, and mom as well.” He watched her movements slow as she washed the dishes and put them in a rack to dry and reached out tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “And pretty to look at.”

  She dropped a glass, spraying dishwater all over the front of her shirt. “You’d better go, Mr. Tucker. I need to give Levi his bath.” She turned down the hall toward the bathroom and firmly shut the door behind her.

  He let himself out and cursed himself for pushing things too far. Not once during dinner had she sent off any vibes of being interested in him any more than as her employer. Her “Mr. Tucker” bit solidified it even
more. She was off-limits. Or so she wanted to be, but the chemistry between the two of them couldn’t be denied.

  And if he read Sam correctly, she was as uncomfortable with the situation as he was.

  Chapter 3

  After a restless night, Sam woke up feeling groggy and irritable. There was no reason for her mood except for the lack of sleep. Dressing in her usual attire of jeans and flannel shirt, she pulled her hair back in a ponytail and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. Digging through the cabinet, she found the box of Rice Krispies Levi loved so much and pulled out a package of instant oatmeal for herself.

  Sam picked up the teakettle from the stove and brought it to the faucet. Two glasses floated in the murky water reminding her of how she’d over-reacted last night when Cole had touched her.

  No, he didn’t really touch her. He tucked her hair behind her ear—a nice gesture, nothing more—and Sam took it way out of context. She’d made a fool of herself. Her boss was an overly friendly guy and flirted with anyone and everyone in a skirt. Or in her case, jeans and an L.L. Bean shirt. She witnessed that on many occasions in their first week working together.

  From Nell, the mail carrier who had to be somewhere in her mid-sixties, to Emma, his soon to be sister-in-law whom she briefly met on Friday when she stopped by to drop off more paint. Cole flirted with all the girls. He had a pick-up line of the day, or possibly hour as it seemed like he never used the same one twice. That was simply his nature and Sam overreacted, making them both feel uncomfortable.

  The best way to handle the awkwardness would be to act as if nothing happened last night—which nothing did—and resume their working relationship. She appreciated the attention he gave Levi—even though at times she felt like a third wheel to their conversation.

  The teakettle whistled. Sam turned off the burner and mixed the maple oatmeal with the hot water. Glancing at the clock, she went to Levi’s room and sat on the side of his bed staring down at the amazing boy she and Adam had created. Abigail had looked like her father while Levi was the perfect combination of both of them. She wiped the tear that escaped her clenched eyes and ran her hand down Levi’s head. His curly mop needed a haircut, but every time she thought about taking him for a trim she feared his curls would never grow back. His hair had straightened over the past year, and when it was long and in need of a trim, the ends curled, giving him a cherub look instead of the young boy he was growing into.

  Now, warm from sleep, Levi’s tiny red lips pouted and his breathing became shallower, sure-tell signs he was beginning to wake. Sam stroked his baby soft cheek and kissed his nose.

  “Time to wake up, handsome.”

  Levi murmured something incomprehensible and snuggled deeper under his covers. She smiled and picked up his hand, studying his fingers and remembering how tiny they were at birth. Minutes old, he’d gripped her pinky finger with all his strength as if he knew how much she needed him to be strong for her.

  Abigail’s hands were about the same size the last time Sam held them. And just as soft.

  “Mommy?” Levi’s groggy voice brought her back to the present.

  “Good morning, sunshine.”

  Per their morning routine, Levi crawled into his mother’s lap and held on to her as he slowly woke up. Nighttime and morning were her favorite moments in life, when all innocence could be found in the simple gestures of snuggling and breathing in each other’s air.

  And as quickly as the sweet scene started, it ended when Levi opened his eyes, stretched, and then hopped out of her arms. “What’s for breakfast?”

  If only she could wake so quickly. It took a gallon of caffeine to make her eyes perk. “Cereal. Do you want Mommy to pick out your clothes or do you want to do it?”

  “Mommy do it. Is today my field trip?”

  “Yup. Are you excited for gymnastics? I think you’re riding in Anthony’s mommy’s car today.”

  “Yes!” Levi did a fist pump and stripped off his Transformers pajamas, tossing them in the air. Every Wednesday the preschool age kids went on field trips. The highlight of every little child’s week. She usually drove a few of the children, but now that she had a job she had to miss out on the trips. Maybe she should negotiate and work four days a week. Wednesdays had become special to her and Levi. Or maybe she was simply nervous to go to work today.

  “Hey, mister. Pick up your clothes and put them in the hamper.”

  “Where’s my shark shirt?”

  “You wore it yesterday. Pick something else.”

  After tossing four shirts on the floor, Levi settled on his monster truck shirt, pulled on a pair of wind pants, and then ran to the kitchen to eat his breakfast. Sam had to remind him to put down his Spider-Man figurine at least a dozen times and concentrate on his breakfast before he finally finished. They brushed their teeth, side-by-side in the bathroom, and then gathered Levi’s snow gear and his backpack before heading out the door.

  She was in no hurry to go to work. Or rather, to deal with the uncomfortable situation she created.

  They had decided to meet at Cole’s farm to discuss her new duties. She didn’t like meeting somewhere so personal, but since he didn’t have an office, she had no choice in the matter. Sam followed his directions and turned down a long dirt driveway that led to a charming white house. The front wrap-around porch was decorated with Christmas garland and lights and a huge wreath hung above the garage.

  She stepped out of her truck and followed a path that led to a classic red barn with three fenced-in corrals surrounding it and a large chicken coop. This was definitely not what she pictured when Cole said he had “some horses” he had to tend to. The house, barn, and land looked established, like they’d been there for a hundred years and belonged to a farmer, his wife, and their herd of kids. Not to a swinging bachelor with a charming personality and looks to kill—not that his dark eyes and dimples had any effect on her.

  After zipping up her L. L. Bean parka, she pulled a knit cap over her curls and tugged on a pair of wool mittens. Hoping to find her boss out back, she walked to the barn and let herself in through the door. It smelled like horse and hay. Fresh and honest, not like the city where she grew up. This was the life she wanted for her son. A place where she could leave her keys in her ignition while running into the library, knowing no one would steal her car.

  This was a work environment she could fall in love with. Untainted from the marathon of commuters trying to rush to their dreaded desk job so they could make enough money to vacation in the Hamptons or Berkshires. Or grow their portfolio into millions that they could never spend because they were too busy working.

  Her family didn’t fall into that mold. They were hard working, blue-collar laborers but everyone else around her seemed to thrive on the rush of the city. It wasn’t in her nature, and she didn’t want her son to grow up thinking that in order to be successful he needed to work eighty hours a week.

  A horse sneezed and brought Sam back to the present. She walked to the stall, smiled at the giant, and read the sign nailed to her gate. “Hey, Buttercup. Can I pet you? I promise not to bite.” She took off one mitten and slowly reached out to stroke the horse. “Easy, girl,” she whispered as the horse nudged her hand. “I don’t have any snacks today, but if your master lets me, I’ll bring you some carrots next time. Okay?”

  “She prefers apples,” a deep voice said behind her.

  Sam jumped back into the hard wall of Cole’s chest. “Cripes! You scared me.”

  He wrapped his hands around her shoulders to steady her and laughed. “I tromped through the barn so loud I woke up Maggie Mae in the first stall. That old gal sleeps through anything. You must be hard of hearing or off in la-la land,” he teased.

  Unfortunately her hearing was very good, and he wasn’t so far off with his “la-la land” bit. It surprised her how deep in thought she was. “It must be the animals. They’re very calming. Buttercup is beautiful.”

  “She’s a favorite with the kids. I can teach you to
ride her if you want.”

  “Me? No, no, no. I like my two feet planted on the ground, thank you very much.”

  “Ah, come on. You’re not afraid of little ‘ole Buttercup, are you?” He patted the mare and ran his hands down her back. “Give me ten minutes to finish feeding the ladies and then I’ll saddle her up for ya. It’ll be fun.”

  “No thank you. Go feed your…ladies. I’ll wait right here.”

  Cole chuckled. “Suit yourself.” He walked to a large bin and scooped grain into a bucket. When it was full, he carried it from stall to stall filling each trough. Apparently his ladies were the four-legged kind. Not that she cared any.

  True to his word, ten minutes later he sauntered over to her and motioned for her to follow him. Obediently she got up from the bale of hay she had been using as a chair and tagged along after him. He held open the back door to his house, allowing her to step in first.

  Sam stopped on the top stair to the deck not wanting to enter his home. It made their relationship personal again, and she needed the employer/employee distance they had two days ago.

  “My furnace is old and crotchety. I can’t afford to let in all this cold air in. You going in or not?”

  “No, I’ll uh…wait for you in the barn.”

  “Why the hell do you want to do that? It’s cold out there and what I need to show you is inside where it’s warm.”

  She chewed the inside of her cheek contemplating her next step.

  “Oh, for crying out loud.” Cole grabbed her right arm, pulling her into his house and slamming the door behind them. Still holding her arm tightly, he led her to the kitchen and literally pushed her down into a chair. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered and stormed off down the hall.

  So much for trying to act like nothing happened last night. Nothing did happen last night, she reminded herself. Sam pulled off her mittens and tucked them into the pockets of her coat. It was best to leave her coat and hat on in case she needed to…to what? Make a fast getaway? Cole didn’t have her at gunpoint or tied and bound to the chair. It was a work meeting. Get a grip, Sam.