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Sam said, sounding much happier than he had a few minutes ago.
"Good," she said, and wondered why that was so important to her.
As they continued on their way to Sam's condo, Cat wondered for a brief moment if she'd get a glimpse of his bedroom, to see if it looked any different from the inside. Sam unlocked his door, pushed it open, and gestured for her to enter. Always the gentleman, she mused.
She looked around, orienting herself. Familiarity hit. A replica of her place. Same layout. Same gray-colored carpet and off-white walls. Cat had planned to change the awful color just as soon as she found some spare time.
She tipped her head and glanced at Sam. "For a second there I thought I was home."
Sam shrugged off his coat, eased hers from her shoulders, and hung them in the entrance closet. The simple, domestic, normal, everyday act of him hanging her coat made her feel all weird inside.
He gestured with a wave. "Then I guess you already know where the kitchen is"
Cat smiled and slipped off her shoes. Her feet were still killing her from her heels last night. She followed Sam down the short hallway. Her gaze journeyed to his a.s.s. She brushed her tongue over her bottom lip and suppressed a growl of longing. Shame that her condo lacked that lovely masterpiece.
He motioned toward the cluttered table. "Sorry about the mess, I would have cleaned up if I had known you were coming over."
"It doesn't look any different from my place. I like to think of it as organized clutter."
Sam chuckled. "I've never quite heard it put that way before. Just push the stuff out of your way and grab a seat.
Would you like a coffee or tea"
"I'd love a tea, thanks." Cat gathered the newspapers from the chair and table and neatly piled them while Sam filled the kettle and then made a quick trip to the bathroom to wash up. A stack of cutout articles caught her attention. She reached for them. Her breath stalled as she flipped through the pieces. She spent a long moment just staring at them.
Sam returned from washing up and grabbed the cheese slices from the fridge.
She worked to recover her voice. "Sam"
Sam placed the frying pan on the stove and turned to face her. "What's up"
She fanned the articles in the air. "You read my articles"
He folded his arms and leaned against his countertop.
"Yeah."
Surprise registered on her face. Her voice rose a notch.
"And you cut them out and keep them" she asked, wrinkling her nose.
Sam pushed off from the counter, took two steps toward her, and brushed her hair from her face. His soft caress, so tender and gentle, made her knees wobble. Sam dipped his head, his voice softened. "Is that so hard to believe"
She shrugged and lowered her eyes. "I ... I ... it just surprises me is all."
"Well, you shouldn't be surprised. Your articles are great, Cat. Worth a second read." He cupped her chin and lifted her gaze to his.
She opened her eyes wide and met his glance. "You really like them"
Sam rolled one shoulder. "Sure. Everyone at work does too." He rifled through them. "This one here about a guy's quick trip to the E.R. after his girlfriend turned him into a banana split and mistakenly chomped down on the wrong banana is my favorite. Someone read this one out loud in the lunchroom. It had us laughing all day."
She lowered herself into the chair, furrowed her brow, and tossed him a skeptical look. "Really"
He threw his hands up. "Yes, Cat. Really. Why do you find that so hard to believe"
She stammered. "I don't know. I knew they were popular but they're just fluff pieces." She rotated her ankles and rubbed the pad of her thumb over her heel. Sam sat across from her, gathered her feet, and took over the ma.s.sage.
Cat shimmied lower in her seat. "Mmmm ... feels good.
Thanks."
His voice had taken on a serious edge. His lips thinned.
"Cat, do you enjoy writing these articles"
She smiled, then hesitated before answering. "I do. It's just that I want to write something important, something that matters."
A frown furrowed his brow. He grabbed a stack of papers and plunked them down in front of her. He flipped open a page. "Tell me what you see."
She raised an inquisitive brow. "What are you doing"
"Just tell me. What do you see" he pressed.
"I see news articles."
"About what"
Cat leaned in closer, squinted, and read the first caption.
"Murder."
Sam flipped a page. "And here, what do you see"
"Drug bust."
He pointed to another caption farther down the page.
"And here"
"Political scandal." She sighed and leaned back. "What's your point"
He shook his head and tossed her a perplexed frown.
"This is what you want to write This is what you consider important"
"I just want to make a difference."
He raked his hair from his forehead, obviously frustrated.
"Don't you see You do make a difference. Your amusing articles take the sting out of everyday life. They remind us how to smile. That not everything in life is bad."
He waved his hand toward the paper. "Don't undervalue yourself. What you do is as important, if not more important, than what these other journalists do. You brighten up our days."
Shocked.
A description befitting her current emotion. Shocked and touched, actually. She'd had no idea that Sam had such respect for her work. She opened her mouth but no words formed.
The whistling kettle drew Sam's attention. She watched as he stood, gently placed her feet on his chair, and went about preparing her tea.
She'd never considered her work important before. She always equated success with writing hard-hitting news, at least that's what had always been pounded into her by her parents.
Was Sam right Was she undervaluing herself Was she already a success and just hadn't realized it She had to admit, she loved writing those humorous pieces, loved meeting new people, and hearing their dating and mating woes.
Sam came back with the hot drink. "I understand that drive to succeed, Cat. I have that same drive myself. This project I'm working on has consumed me for the last six months. Believe me, I'm not undermining what you think is important. But I think you're missing something. You're already a success." He spread his arms wide to emphasize the point. "A huge success."
She lowered her voice. "Thank you, Sam." Her heart turned over in her chest as she took a moment to let his words sink in. To reevaluate things.
She lowered her head and spoke into her cup. "It was my father's dream to see me follow in his footsteps. After he died, it pushed me that much harder. I wanted to make him proud of me."
Sam touched her hand and squeezed. "I'm sorry, Cat. But I do think he would be proud of you. Proud to know how wonderful your columns are, how many people they touch."
Cat swallowed the lump in her throat. Had she been chasing the wrong dream all along Had it taken Sam York to make her see that Or had she really known that all along.
She glanced at him. "Did you always want to be a scientist"
She sipped her tea and studied his expression.
His low chuckle curled around her and seeped beneath her skin. "For as long as I can remember, I was always doing some kind of experiment in the bas.e.m.e.nt. I've blown up a few things in my day. The fire department knew me much better than they should have." He picked her feet up and eased them back onto his lap.
Ticklish, she wiggled her toes as he resumed his ma.s.sage.
She smiled as the image of a young, geeky, scientific Sam rushed through her mind. "I bet your mom loved that."
He frowned. She could feel tension rising in him. "I wouldn't know. It was just me and my dad. When something bigger and better came along my mom bailed."
"Bigger and better" Cat's heart stalled, recalling how her father had always used those same words.
"Yeah, a better job, a better husband, a bigger house, and a bigger bank account. After my mom left, my father had plenty of different women coming and going. It was the same with them too. They left when bigger and better came along."
She reached out and touched his hand, her heart twisting in her chest. She felt so close to him at that moment. Something told her he'd just opened up and shared a private, painful side of him that he'd never shared before.
"I'm sorry, Sam."
He shrugged and stood. "It doesn't matter anymore. It was a long time ago."
It may have been a long time ago, but Cat suspected it had a profound impact on his life and his lifestyle. Was this the reason Sam played the field, a different woman every week Was he afraid to get too close only to have a woman leave him after he offered his heart Over the last few days Cat had caught glimpses of the true Sam. She could see beneath that playboy facade. He was giving, nurturing, caring, and so very, very vulnerable.
Cat's stomach took that moment to grumble. Sam smiled.
"I'd better feed you before you pa.s.s out on me."
"Can I help"
"Nope, just enjoy your tea."
"Sounds good to me," she said, stretching out.
Sam chuckled.
"Actually, I need to wash up, too. Can I use your bathroom"
He waved his spatula toward the hall. "Sure, you know where it is."
Cat stood, pushed up on her tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to Sam's cheek, needing almost desperately to make an intimate connection.
He seemed shocked by the gesture. He gripped the sides of her hips. "What was that for"
One shoulder rolled. "For being so sweet."
He gruffed, "Sweet I'm not sweet. I'm bada.s.s. You must have me confused with someone else."
Cat lowered her voice. "There is no one else, Sam."
Something in his expression changed. His eyes softened, his hand touched her cheek and traced the pattern of her face. "Go wash up, this will just take a second." She was astonished by the tenderness in his voice.
She gave a tight nod, twisted around to leave, and felt his eyes on her as she rounded the corner. As she made her way to the bathroom, she glanced at the walls and noted all the baby pictures. "Are these pictures of you, Sam"
"No, they're my G.o.ddaughter." She heard the love in his voice.
Cat felt her heart tighten. Sam had a G.o.ddaughter and plastered pictures of her all over his walls. Well, that simply confirmed it; there was way more to this man than met the eye.
Cat closed the bathroom door and washed up. When she stepped back into the hall, she took another moment to look at the pictures of the beautiful baby girl. She wondered if Sam wanted kids.
"What's her name"
"Samantha, after me." She could hear the pride in his voice.
"She's beautiful." Cat stepped back into the kitchen as Sam placed her sandwich on the table.
"I'm babysitting her this weekend. Maybe you can stop by."