Sam arrived at Rocco and Nichole’s place at around five-thirty. He had a few questions he wanted to ask Nichole before this teacher friend of hers arrived. Besides, he’d volunteer to hold the baby while she put the finishing touches on dinner. Knowing Nichole, she’d be fussing over every detail.
He sincerely hoped she wasn’t putting any stock into something developing between him and this teacher friend of hers. From the little bit he knew about … what in the world was her name again? Brenda? Brittany? Something like that. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember. No matter what her name was, he already knew it wasn’t going to work. He had no intentions of getting involved in a relationship.
Owen had the front door open by the time Sam had climbed out of his truck. “Hi, Uncle Sam.”
“How ya doing, kid?”
“Good.” Owen held the screen door for him.
Sam ruffled the top of his head as he entered the house. Right away a mixture of delicious scents greeted him. If nothing else, he was getting a home-cooked meal out of the deal. Otherwise, it was destined to be a complete waste of his time and this teacher’s, too.
“Sam,” Nichole greeted him as she came out of the kitchen dressed in a pretty pink blouse and black slacks. She looked good. The baby fat had disappeared or was cleverly disguised. He didn’t know which. She kissed his cheek and held on to his forearms. Her eyes were warm and full of gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I hope Rocco told you I’m not interested in having friends set me up.” Usually it turned out to be a huge disappointment on both sides.
“I know, I know. Rocco wasn’t happy about it, either, but I swear you’re going to like Beth.”
Beth, that was it.
“Owen said she’s into classical music.”
“She loves all kinds of music.”
He rolled his eyes.
Nichole slapped his upper arm. “Get rid of the attitude. You’re going to have a lovely evening.”
Sam sincerely doubted that, but saying so would only irritate Nichole. He liked his friend’s wife. He wasn’t sure about the two of them when Rocco first brought her around. It wasn’t long, though, before she’d managed to worm her way into his heart, not that he was in love with her or anything. She’d won him over because of the way she loved Rocco. The changes in his friend were huge after Nichole came into his life.
There was a time when Rocco had been pretty wild, boozing it up and getting into scrapes with the law. He’d been free and easy with women, too, which was how Kaylene had come into his life. Hard to believe Kaylene was eighteen now and a high school senior. Everything changed for Rocco when he got custody of his daughter. That was when he settled down and became a responsible citizen. Eventually he took over ownership of Potter Towing. It was through the towing company that he’d met Nichole, when he pulled her out of a ditch.
It didn’t take Sam long to realize how strongly Rocco felt about Nichole. She had him hook, line, and sinker almost from the first day they met. It surprised Sam that a classy woman like Nichole would marry Rocco. Far as he could see, they were still head over heels about each other. Sam doubted there was anything Rocco wouldn’t do for his wife. She brought Owen into the marriage and now they had Matthew, and from what Rocco said, in a year or two Nichole wanted to have another baby. Good for them. Sam enjoyed being an adopted uncle. He’d always loved kids.
“You ready to meet Beth?” Owen asked.
“I’m ready to settle down in a rocking chair with Matthew,” Sam said, seeing that the infant was asleep in the fancy baby contraption set up in the living room.
“Not now,” Nichole warned. “I just fed him and got him down. With luck he’ll sleep through dinner.”
Sam was disappointed, but there’d be plenty of opportunity later. “Need any help?”
“You can help me with the wine,” Rocco said, coming out of the kitchen with a bottle of chardonnay in his hand.
“I’d rather have beer.”
“We’re having wine tonight,” Nichole informed him.
“I can’t have a beer?” He didn’t bother to hide his disappointment.
“Later,” Rocco mouthed.
Sam managed to hide a smile and winked back at his friend.
Nichole braced her hands against her hips. “We’re serving wine with dinner.”
“Sounds good to me.” Sam knew better than to argue with the woman of the house.
The doorbell rang and automatically Sam stiffened.
It was about to start: the awkwardness, the polite exchange of chitchat. She would look him over and he would check her out. Not that he was interested in knowing anything more about her than he already did. Him and a classical music teacher. Not happening.
“I’ll get it,” Nichole said, automatically heading for the front door.
Rocco stood next to Sam and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Relax,” he breathed. “How bad can it get?”
Sam stiffened. “I think we’re about to find out.”
Nichole let her friend into the house and then with a smile she gestured toward Sam. “I’d like to introduce my friend, Beth Prudhomme. Beth, this is Sam Carney.”
This was even worse than he thought. Her gaze shot to him and her eyes widened. He had much the same reaction. She was exactly what he’d expected, what he dreaded most. Everything about her—from the way she stood, shoulders and back straight—spoke of education and breeding. He saw it in how she moved, how she carried herself, in her clothes.
He’d met her type before, women who brought their cars into the dealership who hardly looked at him because he was the mechanic and far beneath their social status. Maybe he wasn’t being fair, but he saw the look in her eyes and suspected they reflected the look in his. This would never work. Just as he’d feared, this evening was already doomed and it hadn’t even gotten started.
“Beth,” he said, dipping his head.
Like Owen claimed, she wasn’t ugly. She was no raving beauty, either. In a word, she was ordinary, more on the plain side than beautiful. Small breasts. Skinny legs. Nothing to make her stand out in a crowd. He could only speculate what there was about her that made Nichole think they would ever be compatible. Looking at Beth, he couldn’t see a single thing. Her eyes told him she thought the same thing about him. No way.
“Hello, Sam.” Her voice was cultured and educated as she stepped forward and offered him her hand. Her touch was light, delicate, the same as she was.
“You remember my husband, Rocco,” Nichole continued.
“Hi, Rocco.” Beth turned away from Sam and looked at Rocco, offering him the same polished smile.
Oh yes, this was going to be a l-o-n-g evening.
Very long indeed.
Chapter 3
Beth
The start of the evening hadn’t gone well. Everyone seemed to be on edge. Beth did her best to pretend everything was fine, although she knew otherwise. Nichole tried, too, speaking animatedly.
“Why don’t we all sit down,” her friend suggested.
Sam pulled out the chair at the dining room table as if he was more than eager to get this dinner over with as quickly as possible.
“I was thinking we’d sit in the living room first for appetizers and conversation,” Nichole suggested, looking expectantly toward her husband to rescue her.
“Yes, good idea,” Rocco said, sounding overly enthusiastic as he headed for the other room as if he couldn’t get there fast enough.
Sam looked like his best friend had just stabbed him in the back.
“Now, Mom?” Owen asked, looking expectantly toward his mother.
“Now would be perfect,” Nichole told her son as she gestured toward the living room, ushering Sam in that direction.
Beth hadn’t been in the house ten minutes and already she could tell this evening was going to be torture. For her and for Sam. How foolish she’d been to put any stock in this night. No one needed to tell her Sam had been an unwilling victim. Everything he said and did told her he would give just about anything to have escaped this farce. While Beth appreciated her friend’s efforts, surely Nichole could see this wasn’t working.