If Not for You Read online

  His mouth was soft, gentle against hers, moist and warm. She’d been so enraptured by his first kiss that she’d barely paid attention to his beard. It tickled her now and she smiled slightly at the feel of it against the tender skin of her face. This was good. So good, and she was determined to hold on to every detail, cataloging them in her mind, wanting to put them to memory.

  When Sam opened his mouth slightly, she followed his lead, and then it was Sam who groaned. She wasn’t sure how long they continued to kiss. It seemed all too brief, not nearly long enough to satisfy her or keep her from wanting more. With his mouth over hers, the tip of his tongue outlined her lips in a slow, sensual perusal. It was all Beth could manage not to melt in his arms.

  When Sam eased away, she made a moaning protest and buried her face in his chest while she gathered her wits, which had completely deserted her. All she could think was Wow. She was convinced that until Sam had kissed her she’d never really been kissed before. She didn’t want him to stop, but he had pulled back and his breathing seemed harsh and labored.

  “I should go,” he said, gently releasing her. “You’re exhausted.”

  Beth wanted to protest and stopped herself. He was right. Her day had been full and she was bone weary. She slowly lay back down so that her head was against the pillows. “Thank you,” she said, shocked at how low her voice was. “For everything.” She longed to tell him how much his kisses had meant to her but was unable to find the words. She had no idea kissing could be that wonderful or feel that good.

  Sam hesitated, then took her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing her fingertips as though he had a difficult time leaving her. “I’ll be by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’d come sooner but I’ve got sh— stuff I need to take care of.”

  “Of course. Sam, please, I don’t want you to feel obligated to visit every day.” It was important he understand it wasn’t his duty to keep her entertained. Her stomach tightened at the thought that he’d felt seeing her was some unwritten requirement because he’d been at the scene of the accident.

  He kissed the back of her hand. “Truth is, Beth, I don’t think I could stay away.”

  It was his parting words that stayed in her mind the rest of the night. Sleep didn’t come easy. Every time Beth closed her eyes, she could almost feel Sam’s kiss against her lips. All that feeling and the emotion that went along with it overwhelmed her. She wondered how long it would be before he kissed her again, and she prayed it would be soon.

  —

  Sunshine arrived midmorning.

  “How’s it going, Sweet Pea? You digging your new digs?”

  Beth smiled. “I’ve already been up and walked the hallway twice.”

  “Great. No PT today?”

  “Later. It’s a lighter load on the weekends.”

  “Cool.” Her aunt scooted the chair closer to the bed. “Have you heard from your mother?”

  Frowning, Beth sighed. “Yes, briefly. The conversation went okay. She arrives on Monday.” Despite Sam’s assurances, she couldn’t help worrying what would happen when her mother met him. Already she could hear her mother’s objection to Beth dating a man like Sam. Even knowing a confrontation was sure to follow, she refused to hide their relationship, refused to make apologies for him when none were needed. Nothing her mother said was going to influence the way Beth felt about him. All she could hope was that Sam’s feelings for her were equally strong and that he not be influenced by her mother.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Sunshine told her, gently squeezing her arm.

  “You’ll be here, right?” she pleaded.

  Her aunt’s silence was answer enough. “I promised your mother I’d give the two of you alone time.”

  Beth struggled to sit up straighter. “Sunshine. No, please, you can’t do this to me. I need you.”

  “Baby girl, you’re stronger than you realize. How long is your mother intending to stay?”

  “Two days.”

  Her aunt looked relieved. “That’s no time at all. It’ll go by so fast you’ll hardly know Ellie was in town.”

  “You’re joking, right? My mother will find a way of making sure the entire facility knows she’s arrived. She’ll make more of a production than Hannibal crossing the Alps.” Beth could envision it now. Her mother was sure to make a huge scene worthy of an Academy Award. She dreaded Sam viewing any part of that.

  “I have a feeling you’re more worried about what will happen with Sam than you are about seeing your mother.”

  Beth didn’t deny it.

  Her aunt’s gaze softened. “You like Sam, don’t you?”

  It would be useless to lie. “Yes…so much. We had such a good time last night, making music together. He says he plays the guitar for his own pleasure, but you know what? He’s talented. I could have played with him all night, but I didn’t have the stamina. Sam enjoyed it, too.”

  “That’s great. Don’t you worry, Sweet Pea, I might not know Sam all that well, but my guess is he won’t be scared off by your mother. If he is, then he isn’t worth fretting over.”

  “But he has no idea what she’s like,” Beth argued. “We’ve only known each other a short while and—”

  Her aunt stopped her. “Trust me, you have nothing to worry about,” Sunshine insisted. “You’ve completely unbalanced that poor man. He’s nuts over you.”

  Beth wasn’t convinced. “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am. Now relax.”

  —

  Beth did worry, though; she couldn’t help herself. She stewed and fretted and mulled over every negative scenario of what could happen once her mother met Sam. And then Ellie Prudhomme arrived. Predictably, once she saw the extent of Beth’s injuries, she burst into tears loud enough to echo through the entire facility. “Oh Beth,” she wailed. “I had no idea.”

  By now the majority of Beth’s bruises had yellowed and the cuts on her face had mostly healed. Sitting at Beth’s bedside, Ellie dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, all the while demanding to know why Beth hadn’t let her know how serious the accident was.

  “Mom, please,” Beth cried. “You want to know why? This is why.” She gestured toward her mother. “You’re making a scene. It isn’t like I’m on my deathbed. I’m doing just fine.”

  “You could have died.”

  “But I didn’t.”

  “I should never have agreed to let you move away.” Her mother paused to daintily blow her nose. “I knew from the beginning that it was a mistake and I was right. But your father wouldn’t listen to me and now look what’s happened. I absolutely insist that you return home with me. It’s where you belong; I’m making the arrangements myself. I’ll—”

  “No, you’re not,” Beth said, cutting her mother off. This was exactly what she’d feared most. She was stronger now, though, and she wasn’t about to give in to her mother’s demands. “I am not leaving Portland.”

  At the ferocity in Beth’s voice her mother’s eyes narrowed with surprise. “This is Sunshine’s doing, isn’t it? Don’t bother to lie to me. She’s the one who put you up to this.”

  “You seem to think Sunshine has this powerful pull on me and you couldn’t be more wrong. She has done nothing but encourage and support my decision, which is something my own mother hasn’t done.”

  Her mother bit into her lip and blinked back tears. “I can’t believe you’d talk to me like this, Beth. Everything I do for you is rooted in love.”

  “I know that, Mom, but I’m not a teenager. I’m an adult, and right or wrong, I need to make my own decisions and live my own life. You can plead and insist all you want, but I’m not changing my mind. I signed a teaching contract. I fully intend to keep my job and, God willing, accept another for next year if it’s offered.”

  Her words were met with stunned silence.

  It took Beth a few minutes to realize why. Sam stood in the doorway to her room, his gaze focused intently on her. Knowing her mother was due t
o arrive, he’d cleaned up, and wore fresh jeans and a button-down shirt. He looked great and Beth welcomed him with a warm smile, grateful he’d arrived when he did. The conversation with her mother was about to get heated.

  “Mom, I’d like you to meet my friend Sam Carney.”

  Sam came into the room and extended his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Prudhomme.”

  Her mother continued to stare at Sam, which seemed to be the only response she was capable of making. It took her an awkward moment to realize he held out his hand, but thankfully, manners insisted that she respond.

  Ellie looked at her daughter. “Sam is your…friend?”

  “He’s much more than that,” she said, not breaking eye contact with Sam.

  He walked around to the other side of the bed and stood next to her.

  “Sam was at the scene of the accident,” Beth explained. “If not for him, I think I actually might have died. We both owe him a great deal.”

  “Thank you,” her mother said, although it sounded a tad begrudging.

  Beth held her hand out to him, interlacing their fingers.

  Her mother cleared her throat. “So the two of you are…involved romantically?”

  Sam tore his gaze away from Beth long enough to answer. “Not quite yet.”

  “Sam,” Beth protested. “Yes, Mother, we’re involved romantically.” She refused to let him downplay their relationship in order to soothe her mother’s ruffled feathers.

  “I see,” Ellie said, slowly giving the word strong emphasis. “So Sam is the real reason you refuse to return to Chicago.”

  “One of the reasons,” Beth admitted. “An important one.”

  Her mother forced her gaze squarely on Sam. A lesser man would have folded at the intensity of it. “What do you do for a living, Sam?”

  “He’s a mechanic,” Beth replied between gritted teeth.

  “Babe, I can answer for myself,” Sam said. “I work for Bruce Olsen GM dealership as a mechanic. I’m the head of the department.”

  Her mother straightened. “A mechanic, you say.” She made it sound like he picked up trash on the side of the road for a living.

  “Mom,” Beth protested softly.

  “Did you attend college?”

  “Mother, please.” Her voice was stronger the second time.

  “A couple years at a community college and I decided I was better cut out for trade school.”

  Her mother took a moment to soak in the information and was about to ask another question when Sam spoke.

  “Before you say anything more or ask any other questions, there’s something you should know. I care about your daughter a great deal, Mrs. Prudhomme. I’m sorry if you disapprove of me, but that isn’t going to change the way I feel about Beth.”

  “Nor is it going to change the way I feel about Sam,” Beth said, in order to make sure her mother knew where she stood.

  “I’m beginning to get the picture here,” her mother said slowly, thoughtfully.

  “I hope you do, Mom.”

  Ellie nodded and sighed as her shoulders sagged forward. “I was afraid something like this would happen.”

  “Something like what?” Beth challenged.

  Her mother shook her head. “Never mind.”

  And that was exactly what Beth intended to do.

  CHAPTER 13

  Sam

  Early on, Rocco had warned Sam to treat Beth with care. It took kissing her and meeting her mother to convince him that he might well be in over his head with this woman. He’d met her mother only the one time, and frankly that was enough to last him a lifetime. He loved the fierce way Beth stood up to the woman, defending him at every turn. She made sure Ellie Prudhomme knew she wasn’t backing down in any way, shape, or form when it came to living her own life. Sam couldn’t have been more proud of her.

  As the days progressed, Sam discovered he wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to breathe. Every time she was in his arms and his lips were on hers was better than the time before, better than he could have ever imagined. His feelings for her intensified each day until she was all he thought about. He’d heard about besotted men who walked around with their heads in the clouds. He remembered Rocco acting that way when he’d first met Nichole. He never thought it would happen to him, and yet here he was, every bit as dopey as his friend had been.

  Sam remembered a half-drunk Rocco telling him about Nichole. It wasn’t a good time in their relationship. It looked like the two of them were about to split and in fact might have. Rocco had been drowning his sorrows in beer and started mumbling under his breath. Sam had the feeling his friend had forgotten he was even there. Rocco muttered something about kissing Nichole and feeling the earth move like a friggin earthquake. At the time, Sam had grinned, amused. That sounded like lyrics to a Carole King song. He wasn’t smiling now. That was exactly how he felt when he kissed Beth. There’d been a quake, all right. One that registered high on the Richter scale. It felt like the floor beneath his feet had started to heave and buckle and all they’d done was kiss. He couldn’t begin to imagine what would happen if things had gone any further.

  Nichole was right to be concerned. She might have introduced Beth to him, but apparently, now she had doubts, and frankly, Sam didn’t blame her. Getting emotionally involved with him wasn’t the best option for Beth. She was refinement and innocence, educated and smart. He was none of that.

  And yet…Sam found he was addicted to her the way a heroin addict needed a fix. He couldn’t go twenty-four hours without seeing her. At the end of the workday, he rushed out of the garage and was home only long enough to shower and change clothes. The one exception was his poker night, and even then Sam was eager to leave as soon as he could, needing his Beth fix.

  Thankfully, Beth’s recovery was coming along nicely. Walking remained difficult for her. Within a short amount of time she’d advanced from the walker to a cane. They often ate dinner together, and then it was off to the piano. He loved their jam sessions. Sam could easily play for hours with Beth. It’d gotten so the staff and half the residents of the rehab center came to listen in.

  She chatted with the crowd and took requests. If he didn’t know the tune, like Beth, he was able to pick it up easily enough. Several times a few brave souls would sing along. Beth’s talent moved him and she’d managed to convince him that he wasn’t half bad. They entertained the facility for a couple hours every night and would have played longer if Beth had more stamina.

  She was regaining her strength little by little. He could see an improvement even if she couldn’t. He understood her frustration and knew she was eager to get back to teaching and her life. The thought worried him some. Once she was released, their relationship was sure to shift. It was inevitable. He just didn’t know how or what it would mean.

  He wasn’t sure what it would look like once she was back to the schedule she’d kept before the accident. Their nightly jam sessions were sure to end. It did no good to worry about it now, although Sam had a fatalistic attitude. He had to be willing to let her go, and while it would gut him, it would probably be for the best. Sam, however, refused to let his thoughts wander down that unwelcome path.

  —

  Saturday morning, three weeks after the accident, Rocco needed Sam’s help getting a new dryer installed onto the small back porch that served as their laundry room. As always, Sam was happy to lend a hand. It’d been a week or longer since Sam had connected with Rocco and Nichole. As soon as they were finished, he’d head off to the rehab center to see Beth. It never felt right to be away from her for long periods of time. When he left her, his thoughts would automatically calculate how long it would be before he could see her again.

  Getting the dryer through the narrow doorway was going to be tight. There were only a couple inches of room, and Sam had already bitten off a few swear words as the two men struggled to get the dryer on the porch. As they lifted the appliance up the steps and eased it through the opening, Owen was at the r
eady, his money jar in hand. Sam scraped the back of his hand as they moved the dryer through the narrow doorway, lifting away several layers of skin. He swallowed a cuss word, thinking that later he’d let Beth kiss it and make it better. He was sure to get a healthy dose of sympathy from her. Thinking about her sweet lips kissing his hand produced a smile. He might be able to convince her his lips ached, too. At that thought he chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” Rocco groaned, bent over, as they lifted the heavy machine.

  Sam hit his hand again and this time it really hurt. “Son of a…” He bit off the last word and could almost feel Owen’s disappointment.

  Once they manipulated the dryer through the door, Rocco and Sam stepped back and exhaled. Thankfully, it took only a few minutes to hook it up.

  Disappointed, Owen returned to the house to deposit the money jar in his room. When his stepson was out of earshot, Rocco said, “Got a bit of news about Nichole’s ex.”

  “What’s going on?” Sam had never met the other man, but over the years he’d heard plenty. Before Nichole and Rocco were married, Jake had basically blackmailed Nichole into breaking up with Rocco, threatening to take her to court for custody of their son if she continued the relationship.

  “He’s going through his second divorce. Wife number two caught him cheating. Seems he didn’t learn his lesson with Nichole.”

  “Doesn’t look like he can keep his zipper closed,” Sam muttered. Jake had been a lucky man with Nichole and blew it. Some guys never learn. Although Rocco didn’t mention it, Jake wasn’t much of a father figure, either. The parenting plan called for him to have Owen every other weekend, but the majority of the time Jake was busy. Owen saw his father once a month if that. To the best of his knowledge, Jake hadn’t attended a single one of Owen’s T-ball games. Rocco was more of a father to the six-year-old than Jake would ever be.