Читать книгу The One She Left Behind - KRISTI GOLD - Страница 10

MUTED VOICES FILTERING IN through the open bedroom window pulled Savannah out of a deep sleep. After glancing at the clock and noting the time, she practically vaulted out of bed. She rarely slept past dawn, much less 9:00 a.m., even on weekends. Her dad used to say that life was too short to snooze it away, and she’d never forgotten it. For a few moments she allowed the loss of her father, the ever-present grief, to subside before she faced the day—and her mother.

Savannah dressed in a faded purple T-shirt and a pair of tacky white knit shorts before heading to the hall bath to complete her morning ritual. Her unruly hair was a hopeless cause, thanks to going to bed with it wet, so she piled it into a ponytail and padded down the stairs in desperate need of caffeine. She found a fresh pot of coffee on the kitchen stove and blueberry muffins on the counter, but not a soul in sight. Then she recalled the earlier sounds of conversation and decided her aunt, uncle and mother had opted to enjoy their breakfast on the front porch.

Savannah ignored the muffins and grabbed a cup of coffee to take outside. The moment she opened the front door, the summer scent of fresh-mown grass assaulted her senses and resurrected more memories. Good memories of walking barefoot in clover and chasing fireflies at night.

When she stepped onto the porch, Savannah pulled up short. Not only did she find May, Bill and her mother seated on the chairs scattered around the weathered wooden decking, two others had joined them. A little girl with dark, dark hair and cobalt blue eyes stared at her from her perch on the porch swing. And next to that little girl, the man who had occupied her dreams more nights than she could count.

“Have a seat, young ’un.” Uncle Bill stood and gestured toward the only unoccupied chair, which happened to be much too close to Sam. If he were in the next county, that would be too close.

Savannah refused to give in to the urge to sprint back into the house. Instead, she took the offered chair, coffee mug gripped tightly in her hand. “Good morning,” she managed, relieved that her voice didn’t give away her nervousness.

Her mother, in typical fashion, nixed the greeting to ask, “Where are your shoes, Savannah Leigh?”

She hadn’t even realized she was barefoot. She never went without shoes outside the house these days—under normal circumstances. Nothing about this little morning soiree seemed normal. “They’re inside,” she muttered, wishing she could crawl into the nearby well. She could only imagine how she looked—wild-haired, wild-eyed, worn-out and shabby. Not that she should care one whit what Sam McBriar thought about her appearance.

“You’re pretty,” the little girl said, followed by a toothless grin. Then she turned to Sam and said, “Isn’t she pretty, Daddy?”

Oh, Lord. This child was looking for confirmation from the wrong person.

“Yeah, she is,” Sam responded, surprising the fool out of Savannah.

She took a sip of coffee to soothe her parched throat. “You’re very pretty, too, and you must be Jamie,” she said, offering up a smile.

“You’re Savannah and you used to be Daddy’s girlfriend.”

Luckily she hadn’t taken another drink of coffee, otherwise it might have ended up all over the front of Uncle Bill’s overalls.

“That’s right, Jamie,” May answered when Savannah didn’t. “But that was quite a little while ago.”

“Before he met my mommy?” Jamie asked.

“A few years before,” Savannah said, although that wasn’t quite accurate. Darlene had had her eye on Sam since junior high.

Seemingly satisfied with the explanation, Jamie scooted off the swing and climbed into—of all people— Ruth Greer’s lap. And Ruth, who only moments before looked as if her face might crack if she moved her lips, gave Jamie the sweetest of smiles. “Are you sad, Ruthie?” Jamie asked.

“A little,” Ruth said. “But Floyd wouldn’t want us to be sad. If he were here, he’d tell us to wake up—”

“And enjoy the day,” Jamie finished. “I bet he’s saying the same thing in heaven.”

Ruth brushed a stray hair from Jamie’s forehead. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Jamie slid from Ruth’s lap and took her hand. “Can we go work on the quilt, Ruthie?”

Savannah recalled the wedding-ring quilt she’d worked on with her mother when she was a little older than Jamie. The quilt she’d refused to work on after they’d moved to Placid.

“Maybe we should go home and let Ruth rest, Jamie,” Sam interjected.

“Nonsense,” Ruth said. “You come on in the house with me, sweet girl, and we’ll cut out a square or two, as long as your dad says it’s okay.”

“Can I, Daddy?” Jamie pleaded in a voice designed to persuade a resistant parent. Savannah had used that tactic with her own father and it never failed to work wonders.

“For a while,” Sam said. “Gracie needs you to help her bake some cookies when we get home, remember?”

Jamie rolled her eyes. “I can do both, Daddy.”

And just like that, Savannah’s mother led Sam’s child through the screen door without a second glance at her own daughter.

Savannah didn’t know how to feel. Sad? Yes. Memories of a better time brought about some serious melancholy. Envious? A little, but not of Jamie. The envy came from the thought of what could have been between mother and daughter if their relationship hadn’t gone sour.

Bill shoved out of his chair and offered his hand to May. “Guess we better get to town before lunchtime, darlin’.”

May stood and sent her husband a smile. “That sounds like a plan.”

Not to Savannah. If they left, she’d be all alone with Sam. “I could go for you, Aunt May.”

From the appearance of Sam’s cynical grin, he’d noticed the desperation in her tone.

May flipped her hand in a dismissive gesture. “We’ll take care of it, honey. We just need to pick up your mother’s headache medicine and a few groceries at the market.”

Groceries? They still had a mountain of food left from the wake. “Are you sure? It wouldn’t be any bother.”

Bill fished a set of keys from his pocket. “You just stay here, little britches, and visit with your friend.”

She would if she had a real friend present. Unless she found an excuse to make a hasty departure, she had no choice but to be stuck with Sam since her relatives had already made it halfway to the car before she could say another word. If she didn’t know better, she might believe this little private time between ex-lovers had been planned.

Tension as stifling as the humidity hung on the air as Savannah drummed her fingers on the table’s surface. She supposed going into the house was an option, but she didn’t want him to think she couldn’t handle a few minutes in his presence. After all the times they’d talked for endless hours about nothing—or everything—she couldn’t thing of one blasted thing to contribute to a decent conversation.

Fortunately, Sam broke the silence by saying, “Gracie wants you to stop by before you leave.”

“I will,” she said. “And I still can’t believe Gracie hung around after the grief you gave her.”

He rocked the glider slightly with one heel. “She’s still around because she married Dad a couple of years ago.”

Just one more monumental event she hadn’t been aware of. “I’m really glad for them.” And she was. No two people were better suited for each other. At one time, she would have said the same thing about her and Sam.

He leaned forward and dangled his arms between his parted knees. Another span of silence passed before he asked, “How’s your mother holding up?”

Savannah shrugged. “Okay, I guess. You know Ruth. She’s not one to share her feelings. Me, on the other hand, I still can’t believe he’s gone…?.” The nagging lump in her throat captured her words for the time being. She didn’t care to cry in front of Sam. In front of anyone, for that matter. Not that she hadn’t cried in his arms before. Many, many times. But that was then, and this was now, and she didn’t need his solace, nor did she expect him to offer it.

“Floyd talked about you all the time,” Sam said, his voice surprisingly absent of animosity.

Savannah could only imagine how thrilled Sam must have been to hear regular accounts of her life. “I didn’t realize you spent so much time with my father.”

He leaned back against the swing. “We had our share of discussions about farming and the latest fertilizer, that sort of thing, but your name came up a lot. He thought you could do no wrong.”

“We both know that’s not true, don’t we?” When he didn’t bother to argue the point, she added, “He didn’t particularly care for you, at least when we were growing up, especially that time he caught you climbing up the trellis. I still can’t believe you handed him that ‘cat caught in a tree’ excuse when we didn’t even own a cat.” She couldn’t believe she was playing the remember-when game with a man who clearly had no intention of participating, evident by his lack of response.

He just sat there, studying her with narrowed eyes as if preparing to take his best shot. “Floyd wanted you to be happy, so are you?”

Savannah heard no genuine concern in his tone, only mild curiosity. In fact, he’d probably like to hear that her life was a mess just so he could say he’d told her so. “I have a great condo and a great job.”

He came to his feet, pulled out a chair and sat across from her. “No boyfriend? Or do you have several?”

Savannah hadn’t expected he’d ask such a leading question or that he would come so close to her. Then again, most likely he’d traveled into her personal space and private life to throw her off balance. In a way, it was working. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle as if she needed protection from him. Maybe she did. “I really don’t think you should be so concerned about my dating habits.” Which were basically nil at the moment, a little tidbit she didn’t dare toss out.

“Then the answer is no boyfriend.” He looked much too pleased with himself.

She’d rather eat red dirt than admit four years had passed since she’d had a serious relationship. “The answer is, it’s none of your business.”

“Sorry to hear you don’t have someone to keep you occupied.”

No, he wasn’t, and why did so many people believe she needed a man to be content? “I have a lot to do to keep me occupied, thank you very much. Chicago is a very exciting place. Lots of things to see and do.”

“Unlike Placid.”

“Definitely not like Placid,” she said. “I don’t have to travel far to shop for a decent pair of shoes.”

He barked out a cynical laugh. “I still remember the day we met. You were hoppin’ mad because there wasn’t a mall nearby.”

She’d been angry over leaving her friends behind in Knoxville and moving to Podunk, Mississippi. “I was barely fourteen, Sam. At the time, hanging out at the mall was my life.”

“You were spoiled, that’s for sure.”

Savannah’s ears began to ring. “I wasn’t spoiled. I just happened to be a typical teenager, not some hay-seed who thought riding around in the back of a pickup through the town square constituted a good time on Saturday night.”

Sam didn’t look the least bit ruffled by the insult. In fact, he seemed smug. “I’d rather have clean air and good neighbors than rush-hour traffic and strangers living next to me.”

Savannah lifted her chin in indignation. “I have neighbors.”

He sent her a skeptical look. “Oh, yeah? What are their names?”

She’d strolled right into that one. “Nancy and Phil.” Or maybe it was Janice and Will. She’d spoken to them twice since she’d moved into the condo three years ago.

Way past time for a subject change, and to restore some modicum of civility before they really started going at it. “Jamie’s a beautiful little girl, Sam. You and Darlene should be very proud of her.”

“We are.” Both his tone and expression verified that.

“And she’s so friendly,” Savannah said. “I’ve never seen my mother so taken with a child.” Not even her own child. Especially not her own child.

“Just a word of warning,” he said. “Dad told her the story about you chasing the sow.”

Great. Jim McBriar could have gone for an eternity without sharing that tale with anyone, much less a six-year-old. “Did he tell her that you let the pig out on purpose just so you could see me slip and slide through the mud while I was trying to get her back into the pen?”

“Probably not, because I never told him about that.”

Of course he hadn’t. “Good. I wouldn’t want her to know exactly how conniving her father can be.”

He narrowed his eyes into a glare. “That’s a little of that old ‘pot calling the kettle black’ behavior, isn’t it?”

So much for friendly conversation. In an effort to avoid more conflict, Savannah asked, “Are you still raising pigs?”

“Cattle. Last year I bought the Miller place so I could have extra pasture.”

One more shocker among many. “That land has been in the Miller family for years. I never thought I’d see the day when they’d give it up.”

Sam’s expression turned suddenly somber. “They’re not the only ones, Savannah. The Delta is economically depressed and people are suffering. Whole towns have closed up shop and family farms are being bought up by vultures like Wainwright. It makes me sick to see it happening and not be able to do a damn thing about it.”

“Then why do you stay?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

Anger called out from his eyes and in his voice when he said, “Because my family helped build this town. Because if I don’t stay, then Placid might not survive. I’ll spend my last dying breath trying to prevent that from happening. Maybe you had no trouble walking away without looking back, but I never would.”

Sam’s loyalty to the town wasn’t new to Savannah, nor was his continued condemnation of her choices. Many times in the past he’d echoed the same sentiments. Still, she couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to champion a possible lost cause, or choose to permanently reside in a place with so few opportunities. Then again, she’d always known that Sam had wanted nothing more than a simple way of life. “I guess we both got what we wanted. I have my law career, and you got the farm, wife and child. Congratulations on meeting your goals.”

“Minus the wife,” he corrected, his gaze now fixed on some unknown focal point in the front yard.

“I’m so sorry to hear it didn’t work out with you and Darlene.” She couldn’t seem to mask the falseness in her tone.

He finally looked at her again. “We tried to make it work, but some things aren’t meant to be. I learned that lesson a long time ago.”

So had Savannah, and she’d never forgotten it.

The crunch of gravel beneath tires drew their attention to the driveway and the truck approaching the house in a cloud of dust. A truck she didn’t recognize until the driver exited the cab.

Matthew Boyd strolled up the path to the porch sporting a wide grin. To Savannah, he looked much the same with his light brown hair and eternally tanned skin that made him seem more surfer than veterinarian.

He walked right up to the table and stared down on her feet. “I swear, Savannah Leigh, you haven’t changed a bit. You still hate wearing shoes.”

Savannah stood and gave him a tight hug. “And you still love pointing that out, don’t you?” She looked around him toward the truck. “Where’s Rachel?”

“Buried in the clinic’s bookkeeping,” he said as he shook Sam’s hand. “She’s been under the weather, so she’s behind.”

Savannah reclaimed her chair and thankfully Matt took a seat between her and Sam. “I heard you mention Rachel’s not feeling well at the funeral,” she said. “Is it summer flu?”

Matt raked his cowboy hat off his head and swiped his arm across his forehead. “Could be. She’s been feeling better the past few days, which is why I’m here. She sent me by to invite you to join us at Barney’s tonight.”

Talk about a past-blast. “That old bar’s still open?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s open,” Sam said.

“And Barney even serves food now with the beer,” Matt added.

Savannah laughed. “He’s always served food. Box pizza and cold hot dogs, or so I’ve heard.” She’d only been to the place once, but she’d never gone inside. She’d waited in the car with Sam and Rachel while Matt retrieved his drunken father one weekend.

“Wednesday night is all-you-can-eat-ribs night,” Matt said.

“Sounds interesting.” Not that she was overly fond of ribs or beer.

“Anyway,” Matt continued, “we thought it might be nice to get the gang back together while you’re in town. Chase has already agreed to come and so has Sam.”

She couldn’t believe Sam hadn’t mentioned the little get-together during their conversation. Oh, yes, she could. He probably didn’t want her to go. “What about Jess?”

Matt shook his head. “Rachel’s going to call her, but don’t get your hopes up. Dalton keeps a pretty tight rein on her these days. We sure as hell don’t want him around, not that he’d show up. But he’s probably not going to let her come, either.”

Savannah was appalled to learn that her good friend Jessica—the former gregarious cheerleader—would let her husband dictate her every move. “I hope she does show up, because I’m really looking forward to seeing her. But if she doesn’t, I planned to stop by her house in the next few days anyway.”

“So are you game?” Matt asked. “It’s way past time to have a proper reunion of the original six-pack.”

For some stupid reason, she glanced at Sam as if she needed his permission. Worse still, he just sat there in silence, looking completely noncommittal. She could probably list a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t accept, but only one immediately came to mind. “I don’t remember how to get there.”

Matt pushed back from the table and stood. “You can ride with us. Is seven okay?”

“Seven sounds fine, if I decide to go. I’ll need to check with my mother first.” Apparently coming home had turned her into a child again.

“I imagine Ruth won’t care if you spend a couple of hours with old friends,” Matt said, then pointed at Sam. “Talk her into it, McBriar.”

Sam’s smirk turned into a frown. “She’s a grown woman. She can make up her own mind. If she doesn’t want to do something, then I sure as hell can’t make her do it.”

In Savannah’s opinion, he’d all but confirmed he would rather she not show up. That alone served as a good enough reason to attend the little soiree. “I’ll take you up on the ride.”

Matt grinned. “Great. We’ll pick you up around seven-thirty.”

“Didn’t you say seven?” Savannah asked.

“Yeah, but you know Rachel. She’s always late.” Before Matt started down the steps, he turned and looked at Sam, then back at Savannah. “Hope the two of you get along for a change. I don’t want to deal with a barroom brawl and risk throwing my back out.”

Sporting a wily grin, Matt spun around and walked away, leaving Savannah without any retort. She could tolerate Sam for a few hours. Besides, she truly wanted to connect with her old friends, even if she didn’t count Sam among them.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Savannah?”

She turned to her left to find Sam leaning against the railing, arms folded across his chest, looking much like he had when she’d left the diner the other day. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“It means spending an entire night with me.”

An entire night? “It’s just an hour or two, Sam. We don’t have to communicate at all or even come near each other.”

His smile formed only halfway. A somewhat skeptical smile. “Yeah, you’re right. As long as you don’t have more than one drink.”

Another series of flashbacks ran through Savannah’s mind like a long-ago slide show. Memories of one night beneath the stars in his arms after she’d had her first wine. She shook off the recollections and firmed her frame. “Believe me, I can handle myself much better these days.”

Truth be known, she was a little worried and it had nothing to do with booze. Having a somewhat tense conversation with Sam on a porch in the sunlight seemed innocuous enough. But being in the presence of a former lover in a dim bar after a couple of drinks could wreak havoc on her common sense.

Not a chance. She didn’t intend to have more than one drink, if that. And she certainly wasn’t going to re-enact the mistakes of her youth.

She would go to see old friends. She’d have a good time, even if she had to fake it, and she was pretty darn good at faking it.

SHE DIDN’T WANT TO BE there. Sam could tell that about Savannah the minute she walked into the bar with Matt and Rachel. He could tell because she started wringing her hands like an old-time washer and her shoulders were about as stiff as Gracie’s old clothesline. She looked even more uncomfortable when a couple of people called out greetings as she worked her way through the rows of tables.

But damn, she still looked good. He’d almost forgotten how well she could fill out a pair of jeans. She filled out the black thin-strapped shirt pretty well, too. With her blond hair curling around her bare shoulders, those man-killing high heels, she’d make the grade as most men’s dream-girl fantasy and wish for reality.

He wasn’t the only man who’d noticed her, either. A group of young bucks seated at the bar gawked when she passed by, and so did a few guys who had come with their wives or dates.

In a country place full of country folk, in a bar with rough-hewn wood walls, a tin roof and seen-better-days furnishings, she stood out like tar against snow. But if those guys really knew her like Sam did, they wouldn’t give her a second look. And if they did, they ran the risk of getting burned.

Once the group reached the round table in the corner that Sam had claimed an hour earlier, Rachel and Matt moved ahead of Savannah and took the two high-back stools opposite him. That left only one option— Savannah was going to have to sit next to him, whether she liked it or not. He figured she wasn’t going to like it any more than he did.

Savannah confirmed his theory when she moved the stool as far from him as she could without landing in Rachel’s lap. She did turn to him to say, “Hello, Sam,” with a little too much formality for someone who once knew him better than anyone.

He returned her greeting with a less formal nod of acknowledgment, then followed with, “Where’s Chase?”

Matt hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “We saw him at the pool tables with a group of women probably ten years his junior.”

No sooner had Matt finished the sentence than Chase walked up to the table and wrapped his ham-hock arms around Savannah. Sam couldn’t stop the harebrained thought “Hands off” when Chase looked her up and down like she was his favorite hot rod. “You’re looking mighty fine tonight, darlin’. Where have you been all my life?”

Savannah didn’t seem the least bit put off by the come-on and even grinned, which for some reason didn’t sit too well with Sam. “I’ve been avoiding silver-tongued devils like you, Chase. But it’s still good to see you even if you haven’t changed a bit.”

Sam disagreed with Savannah on that count. Chase was just trying too hard to convince people he was the same.

Chase took the empty stool on the other side of Sam and set it between Savannah and Rachel, causing everyone to have to shift position. That also meant that Savannah had to move closer to Sam. He might have found that amusing if her damn perfume didn’t smell so good.

“Has anyone ordered anything yet?” Chase asked as soon as he was seated.

Sam raised his hand to signal the sixty-something waitress who’d been a Barney’s fixture since the Confederacy rolled up the carpet. “Maybe she’ll be by to take our order before midnight.”

Savannah looked around before saying, “It’s sure crowded for a Wednesday. Must be the ribs.”

“It’s the band,” Chase added. “They come in from Memphis every Wednesday.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “And they let anyone who thinks they can sing have a shot. Nothing quite like spending the evening with a bunch of yahoos who erroneously believe they have talent.”

Matt nodded toward Sam. “He’s been known to sit in with the band every now and then.”

His friend could’ve gone all night without mentioning that. “Not in a while.”

Rachel rested her cheek on her palm and stared at him. “But you can sing, and I think you should give us a song tonight, just like in the old days.”

Sam held up his hands, palms forward. “No, thanks.”

“Come on, McBriar,” Chase said. “Do it for the six-pack.”

Luckily the waitress arrived to take their orders, halting the conversation. Normally he might perform a song or two, but he didn’t see any reason to take time away from his friends, except maybe Savannah.

She picked that moment to lean over, surprising the hell out of him. “What are you having?”

The urge to get the hell out of Dodge. “I ate before I left the house.”

“Why?”

“Because I was hungry.” He still was and she was looking pretty damn appetizing. Obviously he hadn’t had a decent meal in a while.

“Then what do you recommend other than the ribs?” she asked.

“The burgers are okay.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Do they have salads?”

He pointed to the chalkboard hanging on the far wall. “That’s the menu.”

“Oh.” Thankfully she straightened to study it, giving Sam some room to breathe.

After they placed their orders, the waitress returned with their drinks in record time. Chase and Matt each had a beer, while Rachel opted for iced tea and Savannah settled for a glass of cheap red wine. Sam had requested a cola, and he figured he was going to catch hell for it.

Chase was the first to notice. “Why aren’t you drinking tonight, Mac?”

“Because I had a beer before you showed up and that’s my limit.”

“Since when?” Matt asked.

“Since I had a kid.”

Savannah looked more amazed than anyone. “I’m impressed.”

At least he’d done something to impress her, not that he gave a damn what she thought of him. “People tend to change as they get older and have more responsibility.”

She rimmed her fingertip around the wineglass and looked away. “I suppose they do.”

Matt surveyed the group and shook his head. “Man, does this bring back some good memories, having us all back together again.”

Rachel hid a yawn behind her hand. “I still remember all those weekends we spent at Potter’s Pond.”

Matt chuckled. “I remember when Savannah and Sam got caught parking at the pond by that idiotic deputy. What was his name, Chase?”

Chase scowled. “Gordon. I never understood why my dad hired him. Not only was he a screwup, he had that brownnosing son named Brady.”

Savannah rubbed her forehead as if the recollection had brought about a serious headache. “Ah, yes, Brady. He told everyone at school Sam and I were ‘doing it’ that night when we weren’t doing all that much.”

Sam had been glad they hadn’t been doing much more, otherwise he would’ve been in worse trouble.

“Didn’t the two of you get grounded after your folks got wind of it?” Rachel asked.

“For a week,” Sam admitted before Savannah had the chance.

But the punishment hadn’t stopped him from seeing her. He’d prefer not to remember the details, but he did. Late at night, he’d sneaked out of his back door and right into her bedroom window. The thrill of getting caught had only stoked their ongoing fire. He’d never forgotten those nights, all the more reason to steer clear of her now.

Matt draped his arm around his wife. “We can’t forget the time we sent Rachel into the field house on the guise that the coach needed to see her about the cheerleading squad—”

“Shut up, Matthew,” Rachel snapped. “That wasn’t the least bit funny, walking in on all those half-naked guys in the locker room. I’m still angry.”

“Angry because she didn’t have a camera,” Savannah chimed in, causing a loud outburst of laughter.

The stories kept flowing while Sam stayed stuck on the memories involving his and Savannah’s former time together. He’d never had a relationship that intense before, or since. But when she left, he’d begun to realize that he’d never been more to Savannah than a temporary diversion and a teacher when it came to sex. She’d only intended to hang around town long enough for the ink to dry on her high school diploma. If he’d only been able to see back then what he knew now, he would’ve saved himself a lot of sleepless nights and second-guessing.

When the conversation and laughter quieted, Savannah sighed. “I just wish Jess could’ve been here.”

Rachel folded her hands atop the table. “I tried to convince her to come but she made up some excuse about Danny’s baseball game and that Dalton was too busy to pick him up.”

Chase looked as if he’d eaten something sour. “He’s probably too busy screwing around with some gullible woman.”

Savannah leaned forward. “You mean he’s cheating on her?”

For Jess’s sake, Sam felt the need to set the record straight in spite of his suspicions. “No one’s confirmed anything yet, and I hope like hell Jess’s boy doesn’t get wind of the rumors. He’s got enough troubles having Dalton as his dad.”

Rachel scooted closer to the table. “Speaking of that very thing…” She took Matt’s hand into hers and added, “We have some news.”

Matt looked to Sam as if he might bolt. “Yeah, we do.”

Sam stared down Chase, letting him know he was about to be twenty dollars richer, before he stated, “You’re going to be parents.”

Rachel’s mouth opened for a minute before she snapped it shut and swatted her husband’s arm. “I thought we were going to wait to tell everyone together, Matthew.”

Matt raised his hands above his head, like he was set to surrender. “I swear I didn’t say a thing, Rachel.”

“He didn’t have to,” Sam said. “I went through all the symptoms with Darlene. No drinking, sick in the morning, yawning every five minutes.”

Savannah stood, rounded the table and hugged Rachel. “I’m so thrilled for the two of you.”

In the meantime, Chase pulled out his wallet and handed over a twenty to Sam. “You win.”

Matt didn’t look too pleased. “You two were betting on my wife?”

Sam leaned back and grinned. “Yep. Chase didn’t think you had it in you after thirteen years of marriage.”

Chase chuckled. “Hell, I didn’t think anyone had sex after thirteen years of marriage.”

Once again, the group joined together in laughter, including Savannah. Sam had forgotten how much he liked her laugh. He’d always been able to make her laugh, even during some fairly rocky times. He’d also been good at making her cry, like he had that day in the diner. Right or wrong, at the time he’d figured she’d deserved it. He’d wanted her to feel as bad as he had, punish her for leaving him behind. But the past was long since dead and buried and didn’t deserve a resurrection. Once he left this hellhole, and Savannah, he swore not to give it—or her—a second thought.

After the food arrived, Sam tried to focus on the conversation but found himself watching Savannah eat her measly salad. He’d taught her to kiss, and she’d taken to his instructions pretty damn well. She’d been a willing student, even if she had made him work for the ultimate reward for almost two years. And if he didn’t keep his mind on the present and his eyes to himself, he could forget using a poker face to hide his fascination with her mouth, especially if she caught him with his guard down.

But as the talk once more turned to old times, Savannah seemed more relaxed around Sam, so much so she started to lean toward him whenever he tried to speak above the din. And when no one was paying him any mind, he’d inch his chair away from her. If he moved clear across the room, that wouldn’t be far enough away. He’d still know she was there, and he’d still be tempted to return to the past even if he’d sworn not to go there.

During a lull in the conversation, Chase slid out of his seat and stood. “Anyone up for a game of pool?”

Sam pushed away from the table so fast he almost knocked over the stool. “I’m in.”

“Count me in, too,” Matt said. “As long as you concentrate on the game, Reed, and not the kind that involves finding a willing woman while pretending to play pool.”

“Well, now that you mention it.” Chase leaned down and draped his arm over Savannah’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t happen to be willing, would you, sweetheart?”

She removed his arm, much to Sam’s satisfaction, even if he shouldn’t care what the hell she did and who she did it with. “Not on your life, Chase,” she said. “That would be like kissing my brother.”

Chase grinned. “Just let me know if you change your mind.”

Matt came to his feet and said, “While we’re gone, you two girls can talk about us all you want.”

Sam had no doubt he’d be the prime topic of discussion, especially if Savannah had a mind to rake him over the coals with Rachel for his less-than-friendly attitude.

Once they reached the tables, Sam grabbed a cue from the wall holder and turned to discover that the couple currently playing pool didn’t appear to be in a hurry to complete their game. When they kept kissing and touching each other, he almost suggested they give up and take it into the parking lot.

Matt came to his side and said, “You and Savannah looked kind of cozy back there at the table.”

He shouldn’t be surprised by the comment. To any casual observer, they might have looked “cozy.”

“Your imagination’s out of control, Boyd.”

Chase joined them to add his two cents. “I don’t know, Mac. Are you sure you’re not hankerin’ to take a little trip back in time with Savannah?”

Sam battled the images the comment created and the urge to curse his friends. “You two don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about.”

Fortunately, the couple had finally cut out, providing a diversion. “Looks like it’s our turn,” he said.

While Matt gathered the pool balls, Chase leaned back against the table and regarded Sam. “Twenty bucks says you and Savannah will end up in bed together before the week’s over.”

Sam didn’t like the bet or the bedroom images running through his mind. “Go to hell, Reed.”

Matt offered his hand to Chase. “I say three days.”

“You’re on,” Chase said as they sealed the wager with a shake.

When they both looked at Sam expectantly, he picked up a cue and took his first shot, missing the pocket by a mile. “No good ever comes from repeating history,” he muttered as he straightened. “You can both make a hundred bets and neither of you are going to win.” If he considered what they were suggesting, he’d also be in line to lose.