Page 10 of Defending What is Mine

Sam brings a hand to her hip. “You show up on my doorstep with food and flattery…are you sure Mollie didn’t bribe you?”

I walk over to the table, leaving less than a foot between us. “If I’d realized then what she was up to, even a bribe wouldn’t have worked. But, now that I’m here?”

Sam steps closer still, all but eliminating the gap between her body and mine. “Yeah? Now that you’re here?”

I bring my hand to her cheek, fully intent on making my move. With only two weeks until I leave and this much chemistry between us, I’d be a fool not to.

“Mommy? I smell chicken.” Sam and I look up to find Vanessa standing at the edge of the room. “Hey, Jack, why are you here?”

So much for seizing the moment.

Sam steps back, breaking eye contact with me as she looks at her feet and stumbles for an explanation for what Vanessa walked into.

I cough. “Well, your Aunt told me a secret about your Mom today.”

Vanessa’s brow crinkles as she looks me over. “Aunt Mollie? What secret?”

I smile and gesture to the table. “She told me how much your Mom loves fried chicken and biscuits and mashed potatoes.”

When Vanessa looks at the table, her eyes go wide. “I did smell chicken!”

I continue, “And she—Aunt Mollie—thought, since I didn’t have any plans this evening, and you and your Mom didn’t have any plans this evening, we might enjoy not having any plans, together.” And she was right, though I’d never tell her that.

Vanessa runs to the table, pulls out her chair, and climbs into her seat. “Aunt Mollie is really good at that. Making sure people are happy,” she says as she unfolds her napkin and lays it across her lap.

Sam turns to me, mouths ‘thank you’ and then points to the seat across from hers. “Sit. Let’s eat, while it’s still warm.”

We all sit down to enjoy one another’s company…as well as some damn good fried chicken. And, I can’t believe it, but I end up having a great time. After Vanessa’s eaten her fill, she disappears to her room to play while Sam and I clean up.

“So, what’s it like?” I ask, as I scrape the food from my plate into the trash can. “Being a mom.”

Sam stands at the sink washing the handful of dirty dishes. “Hard. But rewarding. But stressful. But still, totally worth it.” She turns back. “Did I mention it was hard?” She chuckles. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. Considering my situation, it seems like something I might not ever have myself.” I hand her my plate and fork. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s not that. No prying.” Sam sets the dishes in the water and turns to lean against the sink. “Do you really not see yourself as a father? Not now, I understand that. But not even someday? I bet you’d be a great dad.”

My jaw hits the floor. “Say what? What on earth would make you think that? Unless you count the new recruits in my unit, I have like, zero experience dealing with children.”

Sam shakes her head. “I don’t know, Wilde. You’ve done pretty well with my little girl, so far.”

Uncomfortable with the topic, I offer to take out the trash, effectively cutting off any more thoughts of the possibility of me being a father. When I step back inside, I expect Sam to have my coat in her hand—a not-so-subtle hint that it’s time to go. To my surprise, she’s holding a bottle of wine and two glasses instead. “Have time for a nightcap?”

We sit at the table trading war stories—mine of actual war, and hers of life growing up in her crazy family (and trust me, the stories she shares are worse than anything I’ve experienced). Then, somehow without realizing, Vanessa’s long since gone to bed, a second bottle of wine has been opened and emptied, and it’s damn near midnight.

“I’m so sorry about the time. I swear I didn’t intend to steal your evening. And then some.” Quietly as I can, I slide my seat back and stand to leave. “For what it’s worth though—I had a nice time. Good enough that I suppose I owe your cousin a thank you…you know, for the idea.”

Sam nods as we walk to the door. “Yes. This was lovely,” she says reluctantly, staring at the ground. “Maybe…maybe I’ll see you again, before you leave?”

“Hey,” I say as I carefully lift her chin. Her eyes meet mine when she looks up. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Get Vanessa off to school. Work. Dinner. Bed. Things around here tend to follow a steady routine.”

“Well, my schedule is wide open. You tell me when and where you can fit me into your routine, and I’ll be there.” I open the door to leave. “Sleep well,” I say through the gap as I close the door.

---