Ross shoved his chair back and stood, cutting off whatever else the well-meaning woman was about to say. “I don’t need a champion, Ellen—I can speak for myself. What I need right now is some fresh air. I’m going outside.” He stormed out of the house, banging the screen door behind him.
All eyes turned to Ellen, whose face filled with apology. “You’ll have to forgive Ross’s rude behavior. I think he’s upset about something, but I don’t know what it is.” And if she did know, loyal Ellen wasn’t saying.
Fred’s face reddened in anger. “Ross was downright rude to you, Ellen. You shouldn’t have to put up with that. I raised him better than to be disrespectful to women.” Samantha’s father didn’t get mad often, but when his children disappointed him, he could go from zero to ballistic in three-point-two seconds.
“He’s not himself, Fred,” Lilly said, playing the role of peacemaker and overlooking her son’s obvious flaws as she so often did.
“Horseshit! That boy needs a good swift kick in the behind. Quit coddling him, Lilly. He’s not a boy anymore.”
“Maybe I should go talk to him,” Jack suggested, and Samantha’s mother breathed a sigh of relief.
“Would you, Jack? Ross has always listened to you.”
Samantha shook her head, doubting Jack would have much luck with the pigheaded man.
JACK FOUND ROSS down by the pond, seated on a bench he’d built years ago in high school wood shop.
“For chrissake, Ross! What the hell’s the matter with you? In all the years I’ve known you I’ve never seen you behave like such an asshole. I feel sorry for Ellen. You seemed to really enjoy running her down. What gives?”
Ross tossed pebbles into the water, one at a time, making concentric circles on the surface. After a moment, he looked up. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Since I lost my football contract, I’m at loose ends. I’m dying here, Jack.”
“But that was over two years ago, man. Surely you’ve adjusted by now? Life goes on. You need to get over this pity party of yours and get back into it.”
Ross shrugged his wide shoulders. “It’s not easy going from the limelight to spreading lime on a field. I’m not cut out for this kind of life. I’m bored…with everything.”
“So move. Do something different. No one’s making you stay here.”
“That’s just it. I don’t know what I want to do. Ellen wants me to take the coaching job that’s been offered and settle down to the quiet life here, raise a bunch of babies and watch the grass grow. But I’m not sure I can do that.”
“Do you love Ellen?”
The question hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity before Ross replied, “To be honest, I’m not sure. Ellen’s a great girl, and I like her a lot. But I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is love or just comfort at being with her.”
Samantha’s words rang in Jack’s ears: Ellen is Ross’s security blanket.
“You’ve been dating this woman off and on for two years. Talk about stringing someone along. If you’re not serious about her—”
“I don’t know if I’m serious. If you haven’t noticed, Ellen’s not the most exciting woman in the world. She’s so structured and naive. I’m just not sure I could stand that for all eternity. Hell, I’m already bored. What would another twenty or thirty years bring?”
“Have you spoken to her about it?”
“That would be like kicking a puppy. I don’t want to hurt her.”
Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “You and Samantha are a lot alike. You never make things easy on yourselves.”
“Is Samantha still trying to sell her book?”
Jack decided to not tell Ross about his sister’s plans to get pregnant. No sense borrowing trouble when there wasn’t any…yet. “Yes, she’s very determined to be published.”
“At least Samantha knows what she wants. I wish I were that lucky.”
“Maybe you should explore your options. Try coaching for a while, do a few other things and see if you like any of them. You’re not going to get any answers sitting on your ass being rude to those who love you and are only trying to help.”
The tall man sighed. “I guess I owe everyone an apology for the way I behaved at dinner.”
“You sure as hell do.”
Ross appeared genuinely contrite. “I hate that.”
Jack laughed. “Yeah, men never like saying they’re sorry. We think it’s too wimp-ass.”
“Lucas shouldn’t have baited me.”
“Lucas has been baiting you since the day you were born. That’s what brothers do. But he loves you and I’m sure he’s concerned. You don’t hide your feelings very well.”
“He’s a good guy, even if he is my brother.”
“Look,” Jack began, “if things don’t work out for you here or you need a place to work things out, come to New York for a visit. There’s always something happening there.”
“Thanks. I’ll think about it. I guess I’ve got a lot to think about.”
Jack sighed. “Don’t we all?”
CHAPTER SIX
BY THE TIME Jack turned off the interstate on their way back to the city the following Sunday, rain was coming down in torrents, making visibility poor and road surfaces slick.
Samantha worried that their return trip was an accident waiting to happen and judging by Jack’s exaggerated breathing, he did, too. “Maybe we should turn around and go back to my parents’ house,” she suggested. “It’s not safe driving in this weather. I can hardly see a foot in front of the car. And if I’m having trouble, then others are, too.” She swiped at the condensation forming on the windshield with the palm of her hand, and then turned up the defroster to clear it.
“It’s too late to turn back. We’re more than halfway and the weather isn’t going to be any better in the other direction. I think it’s best if we keep going.”
Unease skittered down Samantha’s spine. “I hate thunderstorms. They creep me out.” She’d no sooner said that when lightning cracked loudly overhead and a boom of thunder bellowed, making her jump in her seat and causing the seat belt to nearly choke her.
“Don’t think the guy upstairs liked your thunderstorm comment.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that impression. I just wish this stupid rain would stop. I don’t want to die in some horrible car crash. If I have to go, I want it to be in my sleep.”
Jack smiled at her dramatics. “The storm’s caused from the unusually warm weather we’ve been having. All that humidity builds up. Sort of like an orgasm.” He grinned when Samantha’s cheeks flushed red.
“Ha! We’re going to die and you’re making jokes.” Now was not the time to think about orgasms, especially when Jack was sitting next to her in a humid car. Her nerves were too frayed to concentrate on orgasms and dying at the same time.
Samantha rocked back and forth to the constant swishing of the windshield wipers, too nervous to think about anything except the horrible storm. Suddenly realizing what she was doing, she forced herself to stop and focus on something besides the weather and Jack’s provocative comment.
“Did you enjoy visiting your family?”