"Hey, Sam. Do you know Brady?"
"I don't think we've officially met, though I'm sure we've seen each other wandering up and down the street." She held out her hand. "Hi, Brady. I'm Samantha Reasor. I own the flower shop. Everyone calls me Sam."
Brady shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Sam."
"I forced him to come tonight," Carter said. "He spends too much time living over my shop, working on motorcycles. I figured he could use something to eat that wasn't a microwaved meal or fast food."
Brady frowned. "Hey, I eat at Bert's, too."
"Nothing wrong with Bert's," Megan said with a bright smile. "Though I have to admit I like to cook more than I like to eat out."
"With your kitchen, who wouldn't?" Molly asked, then turned her attention to Brady. "She has the kitchen of every woman's dreams."
"So I've been hearing."
Sam counted the couples, and by process of elimination she determined Brady was obviously Megan's date for the evening. Nice call, since Brady was fine-looking.
"Every man's dreams, too," Carter said. "Especially if she's cooking for you."
Sam laughed.
"I need a refill of my champagne," Megan said. "Sam, would you go with me?"
"Sure," Sam said, since Megan obviously needed a minute alone with her.
"Excuse us," Megan said, then took Sam by the arm.
"So Brady Conners is your date tonight? Oh my God, Megan. He's hot. Tall, lean, with those smoldering, dark good looks."
They made their way into the kitchen, where one of the hired staff poured Megan a glass of champagne. "Indeed he is. But he hasn't said but three words to me the entire night, and I'm pretty sure those words were 'You look nice.' "
"So maybe he's the quiet type."
"Yes, I know he's the quiet type. I mean, I know Brady. Everyone knows Brady. Or at least knows of him. He keeps to himself above Carter and Molly's auto repair shop. He works for them during the day, then at night and on weekends he works on motorcycles. I see him riding his bike on weekends around town. Otherwise . . . nothing."
"Well, you know there was that whole incident with his brother a year or so ago."
Megan sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Yes. And I know it hit Brady really hard. But still, I just don't know how to act around him."
Sam rubbed her friend's arm. "Just be yourself, Megan. You're bubbly and friendly, and I can't imagine any guy not wanting to be with you. Try and have a good time with the hot guy, okay?"
Megan smiled. "I will. And you do the same. Speaking of, where is your hot guy?"
"I hope you meant me, and if you did, I'm right here."
Sam turned to find Reid right behind her.
"Oh, hey, Reid," Megan said, her face a bright pink. "If you'll excuse me now, I'm going to find a closet and go hide in it for the rest of the night and hope to die of embarrassment."
Reid laughed. "Don't go hide. But Brady said he was looking for you."
Megan's brows rose. "He did? This is promising. I'll talk to you later, Sam."
Reid turned back to her. "So, your best friend thinks I'm the hot guy, huh?"
"Every woman thinks you're the hot guy, Reid."
"News to me." He grabbed a glass of champagne and led her out of the kitchen and back into the living room. He bent to whisper into her ear. "But just in case I forgot to mention it, you are definitely the hot woman here tonight."
She lifted her gaze to his. "Do you always say the right things, or is this just your well-practiced polite company talk?"
"In case you haven't noticed, this isn't a business function, and while Martha taught me to always be polite, you are definitely a hot woman."
The room warmed up several degrees, especially with the way his gaze lingered on her. "In that case, thank you."
"You're welcome."
He was about to say more, but then Des and Logan came in. Des clinked her glass with a spoon. "Thank you all so much for being here tonight. I hope you enjoy the meal that's been prepared by Gerard, our wonderful chef. If you'll follow me into the dining area, we'll get started."
Reid offered his arm, so she slipped her hand in there. "We rarely eat in the dining room," he said. "It's usually the kitchen, or if we have a big to-do, it's typically in the summer, so we'll set up tables outside."
She leaned into him. "Des has been talking about this dinner for weeks. She's always on the go, and now that she has a break from filming or promoting, she wanted to do something special. She's very excited about this party."
"I'm glad for her--and for Logan. He misses her when she travels. I know he's looking forward to her taking a break. And if this party makes her happy, then he's all for it."
They took seats at the long dining room table. Samantha couldn't recall ever eating in here, and she'd been to the McCormack ranch many times. The dining room was huge, with a gorgeous crystal chandelier and a solid cherrywood table that comfortably sat everyone.
"This table is amazing," she said as Reid pulled her chair out for her.
"My dad built it with my granddad a long time ago. My grandmother wanted something that would fit everyone--ranch hands and family included--for Sunday dinners."
"This definitely suits."
"My mother hated it. She called it old country hicksville. She wanted to replace it with something more modern. My dad wouldn't let her. It was a big point of contention between them."
Sam ran her fingers over the edges. "I can't imagine wanting to replace something like this--something your father and grandfather built with their own hands. It's such a stunning piece of craftsmanship."
"Yeah, well, my mom didn't much appreciate things like that. Or much of anything about living on this ranch."
She felt the pain in Reid's words and reached over to lay her hand on his. "I'm sorry."
Reid shrugged. "Nothing to be sorry about. She's long gone, and all our lives are better for it."
Reid looked across the table to where Martha sat with her husband Ben and smiled. Martha smiled back, and Sam knew that the woman who really raised him--who truly loved him as a mother should--sat right there.
Sam knew all the McCormack brothers were grateful for Martha. So was she, because she knew all the McCormacks had turned out to be wonderful men. Largely in thanks to their father--and to Martha and Ben.
Dinner was an amazing array of food--from lobster bisque to gumbo to pan-seared, pecan-encrusted catfish with the most incredible remoulade, and filet mignon as well. Sam was certain Des had made sure to include steak just for Logan.
"My head is spinning over all this food. Also, my dress might not fit after dinner."
Reid wriggled his brows. "If you're too full, I'll be happy to help you out of that dress."
She laughed. "So noble of you."
"That's me. Full of nobility."
"You're full of something, all right," Luke said from his seat on the other side of Sam.
"Hey, shouldn't you be minding your wife, and not my business?"
"My wife is talking to Carter, and your business is so interesting, what with you offering to remove Sam's dress."
Emma shifted her gaze and leaned around Luke. "Wait. What?"
Sam laughed. "That's not really what he said."
"That's exactly what he said," Luke said to Emma.
Fortunately, dinner was brought out, so the scandalous conversation Luke had overheard was put to rest, because the food was amazing. And by the time they made it to the final course--dessert--Sam was certain there was no way she could eat another bite. Except it was a choice of chocolate layer cake or cheesecake.
"I cannot eat another bite of food," Sam said, trying to keep from groaning.
Reid leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Go ahead. I have a blanket in the truck to cover you up when I help you take that dress off."
She shook her head and tried not to laugh. And ended up eating the cheesecake, because how could she not? It was creamy and delicious and she followed it up wit
h coffee.
After, they all got up and wandered back to the living room, where after-dinner liqueur was served. Sam declined, so full she needed to step outside for some fresh air. She found Emma out there nursing a glass of water.
"You okay?" Sam asked.
Emma nodded. "Yes," she said, rubbing her stomach. "I'm just so full that I needed to stand for a few minutes. Wasn't that dinner amazing?"
"Incredible. I wish now I hadn't worn such a tight dress. I'm going to be miserable the rest of the night."
Emma laughed. "I know the feeling."
"At least you're wearing a dress that hides your full stomach."
"Des warned me about the menu, so I thought ahead."
"The dress is beautiful, by the way." It was a coral color, with a full skirt. That's what Sam should have worn. Something with a skirt to hide her stomach. Then she wouldn't feel like every calorie she'd consumed was on display. Oh, why had she chosen this body-skimming dress?
"Thanks. And you look stunning. Believe me, Reid hasn't taken his eyes off you the entire night."
"You think so?"
"Oh, I know it. I've been watching him. And he's been watching you. Like, constantly."
So interesting. She hadn't noticed that at all. She had to admit, the thought of Reid's interest gave her stomach all kinds of flutters. She tried to tone it down, since they weren't really a couple, but if he was interested, that meant they could at least have some fun together, right?
She and Emma went back inside. Reid was talking to Luke and Logan, so she and Emma made their way over there. Emma slipped in next to Luke, who put his arm around her waist. Logan and Reid were standing against the fireplace mantel, and the three men were talking heatedly about cattle prices, upcoming shipments, and stock, so Sam stayed back to listen for a bit. Reid saw her and smiled. Something about that lopsided smile of his made her quiver.
She didn't want to interrupt him by moving in next to him, and he wasn't her boyfriend--or, really, her date. So she went in search of Megan, but she didn't see her friend in the living room. Maybe she was in the kitchen getting a refill of champagne?
Hmm, not there, either. She wandered out to the front porch. Megan wasn't there. She went back inside to look for Brady, but didn't see him.
Maybe they had left. She thought about texting her, but that would be ridiculous. Megan was an adult, and Sam could talk to her tomorrow.
The front door opened, and Reid came out to stand next to her.
"I'm sorry. I got involved in a conversation--several, actually--with my brothers."
"You don't have to apologize to me. And I imagine you've missed being able to talk with them."
He laughed. "Trust me. I don't miss them."
It was such a nice night for early fall. Still warm, no breeze. She took a seat on the porch swing. "So you're telling me that they picked on you because you're the youngest?"
He sat next to her and stretched out his long legs, sending the swing moving. "Mercilessly. Feel sorry for me?"
"Not in the least. I was an only child, and I would have loved to have a sibling or two."
"You're not missing anything, trust me."
"Oh, you don't mean that. You love your brothers."
His lips curved upward. "Hey, I'm the one who moved to Boston, remember?"
She shifted to face him. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why the move?"
He looked out over the porch, into the darkness. "Opportunity, mostly. I got a good offer from a really great firm out there, so I jumped on it."
"And you did it with no hesitation, no qualms about leaving Hope and your family?"
"Not at all. My parents had divorced. Luke was off the ranch, getting his career as a police officer off the ground. Logan had already decided he was going to be a lifelong rancher. I knew being an architect was what I wanted to do, and I didn't think there'd be enough opportunity for me in Oklahoma."
She arched a brow. "Nothing to build here?"
"Okay, fine. Maybe I just wanted a fresh start. Seeing the pain linger in my dad from the divorce was a hard thing. I wanted to get away from it all. From the ranch, from my brothers, from anything and everything that reminded me of my mother."
She appreciated his honesty. Most guys weren't so self-aware, and if they were, would certainly never admit it. She could still feel that pain and anger radiating off of him. Maybe he'd run away from it and hadn't yet reconciled it. "I understand the need to run from that kind of pain. But you know, at some point you have to deal with it."
His gaze met hers and he smiled. "No, I don't. I've been doing fine all these years never dealing with it."
She laid her hand over his. "Have you?"
"Do I look unhappy?"
"Well . . . no."
"I've had a couple romantic relationships. One long-term. I don't hate women. I stayed in close contact with my father until he died. Obviously I get along great with my brothers. See? Normal."
"What about your mom?"
"What about her?"
"Have you talked to her since she left all those years ago?"
"No. None of us has."
"She hasn't contacted any of you?"
"No."
"And you haven't tried to find her."
"No."
She couldn't understand that. How could a mother leave her children like that? Maybe a week of unhappiness, fleeing the ranch, taking a vacation or something. But . . . forever? It just didn't register with her. She'd give anything for five minutes with her parents again.
"Don't you want to see her again?"
"No. She made her choice to leave us. That chapter of our lives is closed."
"Is it?"
He cocked his head to the side. "Something you want to say, Sam?"
She clasped her hands together. "Probably, but it's none of my business."
"Go ahead. Say it."
She'd never been one to keep a thought to herself, even though it often got her into trouble. "Okay. Somehow I doubt that the chapter of your mother is closed. It seems to me that her leaving all of you has left a giant gaping wound somewhere in the vicinity of your heart and in the hearts of your brothers."
He stared at her for what seemed like a very long minute.
And then he laughed. Like a loud, long, man laugh.
"Did you read that somewhere or did you see that in some movie on one of those women's channels?"
Her brows rose. "Excuse me? Women's channels?"
"Yeah, you know. Those channels that show all those romantic movies, where there's drama and angst and then ninety minutes later everything that's wrong with a guy or a girl or a relationship is wrapped up in a neat tidy bow and everyone lives happily ever after."
She stared at him. "I cannot believe you just said that."
"So that means you watch them, right? And even worse, you actually believe that shit?"
She got up from the porch swing and turned to look down at him. "I am no longer interested in having this conversation with you."
She could still hear him laughing as she opened the door and went back inside.
She would never try to help him again.
REID PROBABLY SHOULDN'T have laughed, but honestly, he could have telegraphed what Sam was going to say from the look of concern on her face.
And okay, maybe he'd been an asshole about it, but he and his brothers had long ago written off their mother. She'd been long gone emotionally from their lives well before she'd physically left. Martha had stepped in and filled the position of mother, especially emotionally. And God knows Dad had more than been there for them.
So some deep emotional chasm? Hell, no. There wasn't a goddamn thing missing in his life as a result of his mother's departure. He'd felt bad for his dad, because for some reason, his old man had loved the selfish, narcissistic, cold-hearted woman. At least at first. And he'd remained committed to her despite her obvious hatred for everything his father had loved. Until she'd up and left and divorc
ed him and abandoned her children.
As for Reid, he'd never received a moment of love from her, so he couldn't miss what he'd never had. His maternal needs had all been filled by Martha.
And none of that had anything to do with his decision to take a job in Boston.
Sometimes women liked to delve a little too deeply into emotional shit that wasn't there in the first place. And he damn well did blame those ridiculous TV shows that painted love and romance and family in a fake light.
Real life was nothing like that. Real life was complicated, and it didn't turn around and right itself in an hour and a half.
If it had, his mother wouldn't have been a cold bitch on wheels, wouldn't have broken his father's heart, and wouldn't have walked out on him and his brothers.
But he wasn't wounded about it.
Goddammit.
Chapter 11
WOMEN'S SHOWS. WHAT kind of moronic, sexist, archaic way of thinking was that? Sam wanted to take off one of her awesomely gorgeous stiletto shoes and shove it up Reid' s--
With a sigh, she folded her arms across her stomach and continued to pace alone in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs. She needed to blow off some steam alone before going back downstairs, before facing Reid again, before she said something she would regret.
Though he had no problem letting all kinds of stupid things fall out of his mouth. And she'd thought he was perfect.
Ha. He was about as perfect as her kitchen. On the surface, yeah, it was cute. Until you looked closer and identified the flaws. That was Reid. Hot and sexy and looked perfect. Until she had a deep conversation with him and realized what a complete jackass he was.
Enough. If she kept thinking about him, she was going to find him and tell him what she really thought about him and his opinions.
She finally gathered her wits about her enough to make her way back downstairs. Spotting Megan and Brady, she made her way over to them.
"I was looking for you two earlier and couldn't find you."
"We took a walk around the ranch to look things over," Brady said.
"In those heels?" Sam asked.
Megan laughed. "I can do anything in these heels."
Sam wondered what "anything" meant, but she figured she would ask Megan later.
"We were just heading out," Megan said.
"Great. Can I get a ride back to town with the two of you?" she asked.
"Of course," Megan said. "But isn't Reid taking you home?"
She didn't want to get into it--at least not with Brady standing there. "No sense in Reid driving all the way back to Hope and then have to drive back here to the ranch."