Page 33 of Stand
She nodded, and there was a pause. A couple of cars drove by, slowing down on the narrow, car-lined street. Ty leaned forward to pour the lemonade. Sam leaned forward at the same time and nearly tipped into his arms as the love seat swung out behind her. “Werp!” she said, trying to regain her balance.
He laughed, and by instinct—because what would anyone else do?—he grabbed her arm so she could steady herself against him.
God, she was strong! She had ropes of muscles in her forearm, and as she flexed he saw her bicep popping too. He swallowed. The woman was impossible to ignore.
And she’d used those muscles to hold back his ex-wife yesterday. She’d helped him, with no other motive.
“Thanks,” she said, flipping her hair to the other side of her head so his hand could naturally let go of her arm. “I was going to pour the lemonade for you, but maybe you should do the honors.”
“Sure.” He could see the dark spread of bruising on her jaw. She’d gotten that protecting his kids. Oh, and her hair smelled incredible, even from this distance. He breathed in, hoping to calm himself with lemonade and watermelon scents, but he just got Sam. Kinda salty, kinda sweet, all kinds of sexy Sam.
He needed to get his kids and get out of here.
“So what’s next?” she asked after he handed her a glass. She leaned back in the love seat and tucked her bare feet under her.
“With Julia? I think this time she’ll stay in jail.” He frowned into his own glass. “It’s not what I wanted. The kids don’t need to see that.”
“But they’ve already seen it. You should probably address where they are now, not where you wish they were.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
She held up innocent hands. “I’m not trying to ding you! I see them. Maybe a little more clearly since I only just met them. You know Matt feels responsible for Alyssa. I don’t know what the answer is, Ty, but I like working with reality rather than what we wish for.”
She looked straight ahead of her and bit her lip. Could he push her to share a little of her life? She knew enough about his to last him a lifetime. And for the first time, he’d heard vulnerability in that sentence. He’d feel better thinking about someone else’s problems for a change. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
She shrugged and looked at the windows next to them and at the front door. All were closed, but she still lowered her voice. “When my dad died, everyone treated him like he’d been a saint. But he’d left the company in massive debt, and he died because he was screwing with a process he should have left alone.” She frowned at the old wooden floor planks. “My mom was left with almost no money in the bank. Our trust funds, which his family had built for generations, were worthless. Kane nearly got himself killed bringing the company back, and Thea got mixed up with Jake and Benji’s dad.Thatwas our reality.”
“And you found your own outlet for your anger,” he said carefully.
“You mean, sleeping around in high school?” She shook her head. “Don’t try slut-shaming me, Mr. Cavanaugh. I knew exactly what I was doing. Every single time.”
“I wasn’t going to do that!”
She didn’t believe him, because she fixed him with her deep, hot-brown eyes. “I like sex. I’m not going to apologize for it. I was over the age of consent, and I liked being in control.”
He held up his hands, one with his glass still in it. “I didn’t mean that! I meant… well, you brought it up before. The mean girl stuff.”
Two days ago, he’d met her and seen only the mean girl. Now he couldn’t recognize that girl in the strong, selfless woman before him.
“Oh, that.” She puffed a breath up to keep her hair off her forehead. “Yeah. Can we not talk about that?” Then she shook her head. “Scratch that. I know I don’t get away with ignoring it forever. I guess I’m going to have to find some of those kids. Apologize, for what it’s worth.” She looked at him again. “Starting with you.”
“You already did,” he pointed out.
“I got interrupted.”
“But I get it.” To show he’d forgiven her—because hell, he had, and in the blink of a second as well—he took the cover off the watermelon and handed it to her. “You were hurting. You were a kid.” She gave an unbelieving snort and took a piece of melon. He didnotwatch her pop it in her mouth. “And if I’m gonna think about it, you’d been brought up to be that mean girl. Right?”
She wriggled in her seat. “Because the Fieldings were the big shits in town? Even though everything inside was hollow?”
“Not hollow. It sounds like you had a lot of love growing up, as well as all the rest. You’re equating money with stability.”
“Money helps a whole hell of a lot. Your upbringing must have taught you that.”
“Yeah, we didn’t have much money after my dad left. Or before. He was a product of his upbringing, too. His dad left his mom. So yeah. The Fieldings were kings and queens around here. And there were the Cavanaughs, stuck in all your minds as the poor folk.”
She grimaced. “You sound pretty chill about it now.”
“Figuring out why I did some of the things I did helped make sense of them. And I learned that it’s often not people’s fault.”