Page 78 of Tell Me Again
He took a spoon from the drawer and dipped it into the sauce for a taste. “That’s amazing.”
“Sam’s friend Chloe is married to Ben Haddox,” Grace announced. “He’s one of the most famous chefs ever. She said we could have dinner at his restaurant any time.”
“You sure can,” Sam agreed. “Plus he’s preparing the meal for the reception, which will prove that my modest cooking skills are nothing compared to his.”
“Are we invited to the wedding?” Grace asked.
Color rose to Sam’s cheeks. “Kendall invited your dad, so I thought you both could come as my dates.”
“Like it’s a real date?” Grace drew closer to Trevor’s side. “Between the two of you?”
He kept his expression neutral. Grace usually bristled at the thought of him dating, and he wondered if her opinion of Sam would change if she realized his true feelings. “It’s—”
“More like you’re my date and your dad is just there as a guest of the bride and groom.” Sam transferred the pasta to a serving bowl then moved toward the table. “They’re grateful for his work in repairing and updating the kitchen and other cabins.”
Grace seemed to accept the explanation. As they sat down to dinner, the topic changed to wedding preparations. The food was heavenly, rich, and hearty. It was a revelation to see that Sam had a domestic side. He’d spent so many years with preconceived ideas about her based on the photos splashed across magazine covers. But she was more than he gave her credit for, and it shamed him that he hadn’t realized it sooner.
Although he would have liked her to stay all night, she got ready to leave after the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher, offering the excuse of studying for a test.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said as she gathered her keys and purse from the counter.
“No need. Frank has my back.” The dog slowly lifted his head and rolled to his feet as she jingled the keys.
“Any time you want to look at the dresses,” she told Grace, pushing a lock of hair away from the girl’s face, “let me know.”
Trevor’s breath hitched at the look of pure adoration his daughter bestowed on Sam. “Are you shopping for the dance?” he asked.
“Sort of,” Sam said with an almost embarrassed smile. “If it’s ok with you, I offered Grace the chance to look through my closet. I saved a lot of the designer clothes I wore during my modeling days.”
“Do you often have the occasion to wear designer gowns?” he asked, lifting a brow. Other than in Houston, Trevor hadn’t seen her wear anything but jeans and athletic pants.
Her smile widened. “It’s weird, right? But I couldn’t bring myself to part with them. Now I know I was subconsciously saving them for Grace. I can get her through a dozen junior high and high school dances.” She glanced at the girl. “I’m also happy to take you shopping. There’s no pressure to wear anything I have.”
“It would be awesome to look at the dresses. I bet you have clothes from the biggest designers in the world.”
“A few,” Sam admitted. “There’s one Dolce and Gabbana mermaid dress that would be stunning on you.” Her gaze shifted back to Trevor. “Only if your dad approves.”
“Please, Daddy?”
He almost smiled at her purposeful use ofDaddy.She was manipulating him, but he didn’t care.
Both Sam and Grace seemed excited by the prospect of a day spent trying on dresses, which was Trevor’s idea of pure hell. They’d made it through the years of pigtails and princesses without too much trouble, but the older Grace got, the more confused he felt by her fashion and beauty routines.
The low point had been shopping for her first bra. After an hour of embarrassment outside the girls’ dressing room, he’d seriously considered marrying so he’d have a woman to navigate the uncharted waters of the teen years.
Now he had help from the one woman he’d never expected. And, still, he wanted more.
“Fine with me,” he muttered when he realized both Sam and Grace were waiting for his answer.
They rewarded him with matching smiles.
Sam hugged Grace good-bye then turned to him. She started to lean in before stepping away. He wanted to pull her close but forced his boots to remain rooted to the hardwood floor.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gave a tiny wave and hurried out the door into the night, as if she couldn’t wait to escape.
He watched the door shut behind her and her big lug of a dog, ignoring the urge to follow. Instead he grabbed a dishrag and wiped an invisible spot of sauce from the counter.
“Why did you pick my mom instead of Sam?”
