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“I’m fine.” He waved her off, shifting a little in his chair as he reached for the tiny succulent on the kitchen table, fiddling with the leaves. “I’m fine.”
“All right. Come on, Eddie!” The dog jumped up, turning in a circle. “You want a walk, buddy?”
He panted as she grabbed the leash and baggie from the cabinet before taking him outside. She had stayed overnight at the hospital, but not because she was worried about her father. He was fine. Grumpy but fine. She stayed because she didn’t want to be left alone to her own devices.
In the days leading up to the surgery, Sam had stayed busy. She had made sure to remove all the rugs in the house so they wouldn’t impede her father’s mobility post-surgery and turned the living room into a makeshift bedroom. Plus, all the fussing had the added benefit of being able to avoid Mike.
Since their little Fourth of July escapade, she hadn’t had the courage to face him. Or her growing feelings for him.
Instead, she played Florence Nightingale. To the aggravation of her father.
She hooked Eddie’s leash up to his collar. “Let’s go to the park.”
They got down to the end of the block and around the corner before two familiar figures appeared, jogging toward them. Running back to her house was a bad idea, it would look too obvious as an avoidance tactic, but at this point, she wasn’t sure she could play it cool either.
“Hey!” Jimmy said, waving.
She put on a smile as Eddie circled her feet.
“Is your dad home?” Jimmy asked, stopping in front of her, bent over at the waist to catch his breath.
“Yeah. We got in a few minutes ago.” Then she forced herself to look at Mike, shirt off and tucked into the back of his shorts, his chest covered in sweat. It was criminal to look that good while working out. “Hi,” she said, noting the different prosthetic leg. It was black and curved, unlike the one he normally wore. “How’re you?”
“We were out taking some action shots for my new website.” He handed his phone over to her to flip through a few photos.
“They’re pretty blurry.”
“Hey.” Jimmy stood up straight, running his hands through his hair. “Even the best photographer would have trouble getting a good shot of his ugly mug.”
Sam handed Mike his phone back. “Laney’s getting you all fixed up?”
“She’s trying.” He hooked his hands onto his hips, and she kept her eyes from drifting down to the muscle there. “So, how’ve you been?”
“Good. We’re trying to wrap up all the loose ends for the house,” she said, about as awkward as she felt when they’d first spoken at the Memorial Day picnic. The conversation was so stilted it was as if they were strangers. As if he hadn’t had her tied up naked to his workout bench last week.
Jimmy wiped his brow with the hem of his T-shirt. “My mom said her friend is going to be the real estate agent.”
“She’s coming in two weeks to look at the house and take pictures.”
Jimmy sucked air through his teeth. “That’s so close. Are you ready?”
“For the most part,” she said, trying to step out of the trap Eddie had created with the leash around her feet. “All the big stuff is done. It’s the basement that needs sorting through now.”
He snorted. “That’s the worst part. It’s like the Batcave down there. Who knows what’s hiding out behind one of the walls of boxes.”
She rubbed at her forehead, picturing it all. “I know, but most of it’s going in the trash. Old DVDs and stuff. I think some of my mom’s clothing is still hidden down there somewhere.”
“Well, if you want help, let me know,” Jimmy said and elbowed his brother. “You ready?”
Mike nodded then glanced at Sam. When she offered him a shy smile, he started walking off after his brother but turned around after a few paces. “Hey, about the other night. I’m sorry if it got weird. I didn’t—”
“It’s not weird.”
He tipped his head to the side. “You’re playing with your earring.”
Sam dropped her hand. “What?”
“It’s a tic you have. You play with your earring. You’re saying it’s not weird, but it’s weird.”
