looking at her right this minute. Lorissa had loved and bullied and loved her some more, more than anyone else all these years. 'He wasn't a jerk. Not even close. In fact, he was…' Heavenly Delicious. Magnificent. 'A perfect gentleman,' she said finally.
Even when he'd stripped off his clothes and dove into the ocean, with that long, lean, hard heat rubbing up against her-
'Okay.' Lorissa cocked her head, searching Sam's expression carefully. 'So why all the secrecy- Oh. Oh, damn,' she breathed softly. 'You like him. You really like him.' Lorissa's face split into a wide grin. 'Tell me the truth.'
Sam should have taken that wave. 'I had a good time,' she admitted, and when Lorissa just waited, she sighed. 'Fine. Make that a
'So you're going to see him again? Has he called? Have you called? Stop holding back on me, damn it!'
'It's only been a few hours. And
'Actually, I didn't know.' Lorissa looked thoughtful. 'I guess I should have matched his name with the stories.' She shrugged. 'I've never been much for watching basketball.'
Yeah, neither had Sam.
'So… what's next? Another date? Or did you give him the famous Sam Blow-Off?'
'Well… next weekend we're doing this… thing.'
'Omigod, you're going on date number two!' Lorissa looked as though she'd just won the lottery.
'I'm just helping him and his sister at some charity carnival. That's all. Not really date number two.'
'Uh-huh.'
'It's not.' Giving up convincing Lorissa when she couldn't even convince herself, Sam took the next wave.
On Monday, Sam skipped her morning surf to make her monthly trek out to San Juan Capistrano.
As she had on the first Monday of every month without fail for five years, she got out of her car at the secluded little house on the beach, walked up the steps and knocked.
And pulled a check from her purse written from her checking account for just enough money to make her wince-especially after dropping $800 on Jack Knight at the auction.
The door opened and there stood Red-a sixty-five-year-old, lanky lean, skin-tanned-to-leather, long-haired beach bum. The beach bum who'd given her a job when she'd been fourteen with too much free time on her hands.
The same beach bum who was her mother's older brother, a man who'd never wanted children and yet had taken her in when her parents died, giving her what he could when life had taken so much away.
And as always, just the sight of Red caught her by the chest and squeezed.
In return, his light blue eyes twinkled and warmed. But he was duty-bound by habit to give her his monthly scowl as he leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed. 'Is it that time already?'
'You know it is.'
'Yeah. So what do you want?'
Grabbing his hand, she slapped the check into his palm. 'What do you think?'
He peered down at the piece of paper, and as it did every month, his scowl deepened. 'Is it any good?'
'Deposit it and see.'
'Maybe I don't want to go to the trouble.' Nothing ever changed about this dialogue. As always, he tried to hand the check back to her. She put her hands behind her back. 'What's the matter, my money not good enough for you?'
'I keep telling you I don't want your money.'
'I bought your place, I'm paying for your place. You hold the mortgage. How many times do we have to go through this? Just deposit the damn check and reduce my damn debt, and soon enough I'll stop showing up on your doorstep.'
'Fine.' He jammed the check into the pocket of his faded Hawaiian surf shorts, which hung low on his skinny hips. 'I suppose you've been staying out of trouble.'
'I suppose.' She peered in past him to look at the small place he'd been slowly renovating now that he'd retired. 'You hire a maid for this sty yet?'
'Yep, with your money, thanks. Sure you don't want to take the check back?' He looked at her with some amusement. 'You could buy yourself some cooking lessons. Learn to make brownies.'
'Ha, ha.' Everyone knew about her determination to make decent brownies.
And really, the urge made perfect sense. Any psychiatrist would have had a field day with it-her mother had always made brownies, and they'd always been perfect and scrumptious.
Sam knew deep down she wrecked her own batches on purpose. She must have a thing against being truly happy, or wanting real love, or being afraid… something stupid like that.
She didn't care. She still tried to make brownies the way her mom had.
'Well, then, maybe buy yourself some new clothes,' Red suggested, eyeing her denim cutoffs, tank top and flip-flops. 'Or even get a haircut. Find yourself a man.'
'Shows what you know. I don't need to get new clothes or trim my hair to get a man.'
'Uh-huh. I see you've got yourself a real big rock on that marrying finger.'
She glanced down at her ringless hands and rolled her eyes. 'I'm not interested in getting married. Why would I be?'
'Maybe because I'd like to see you happy and taken care of.'
Everything within her softened. Still she had her tough facade to keep up. 'I can make
'Really? You've got it all covered, huh?'
She lifted her chin. 'You bet.'
'And kids? You going to give yourself kids?'
'Look, I didn't come all the way down here to get a lecture.'
'Then why are you still standing here?' Because he was the closest thing to a father she had, and sometimes she just liked to look at him. 'Traffic's a bitch. I figured you'd want to feed me the leftovers you'd just be throwing away anyway.'
'I suppose.' He stood back, gestured her in with a jerk of his head.
The moment she reached the top step, he put his hand on her shoulder, then pulled her in for a big hug. She dropped her tough stance and held on tightly.
'Leftovers that I'd be throwing away?' he murmured, his body shaking as he let out a belly laugh. 'Have I ever fed you leftovers?'
'No, because thankfully you're such an awesome cook there are rarely leftovers for more than an hour.' She grinned.
'Then I suppose it's lucky for you I just put together lunch.'
'Oh, really?' She batted her eyes, making him laugh again, because they both knew he'd planned on her coming and that, as always, he'd made them a meal.
'Come on,' he said, and drew her inside, toward the kitchen that smelled delicious. 'And tell me what's new.'
She did exactly that, leaving out only the news of her date with Jack Scandal Knight, probably for the same reason she hadn't spilled all to Lorissa-she had no idea what exactly to say.
For a year now, Jack had been concentrating on keeping a low profile, on just amusing himself.
He'd been pretty damn successful at it, too. He hung out with friends, rode his bike for miles every morning. Lately, he'd been spending more time with the kids Heather helped, and at the old rec center. And most recently, he'd been organizing and coaching basketball teams.
He'd been content with that, or as content as he could be. But then had come his blind date with Sam. It didn't
