скачать книгу бесплатно
Joe cupped her face between his large hands. “You’re just what he needed. I can already tell.” Tears shimmered in eyes the same color as Sam’s, only sweeter and looking at her with such kindness a lump formed in Julia’s throat. “You remind me of my Lorraine, rest her soul.”
“Okay, Dad.” Sam tugged her out of Joe’s embrace. She took a step back but Sam pulled her against his side.
Joe turned to the booth. “I’ll buy a round to celebrate. Any friends of...”
“Julia,” Sam supplied with a sigh.
“Any friends of my future daughter-in-law are friends of mine.”
“We’re not friends,” Lexi Preston ground out. “As I said earlier, I represent her son’s biological father and his parents. They’re interested in exploring a more viable custody arrangement. The Johnsons want what’s best for the child. They can give him opportunities—”
“They want to take my baby,” Julia mumbled. Sam’s arm tightened around her waist.
If Joe was surprised to hear she had a child, he didn’t let on. His posture went rigid. “That’s ridiculous. She’s the boy’s mother.”
“Dad, this isn’t the time or place—” Sam began.
Joe wagged a finger at Lexi Preston and Maria Johnson. “Now listen here. I don’t know what all this nonsense is about, but I can tell you my son will take care of that child and Julia. He’s the law around here, for heaven’s sake.” He leaned closer and Lexi’s nervous swallow mimicked Julia’s. Joe Callahan might look like a teddy bear but he had a backbone of steel. “You’ll have to come through both of us if you try to hurt her. We protect our own.”
“I’ve had quite enough of this town for tonight.” Maria pushed at the attorney, who stood quickly. “I don’t care who you’ve got in your backwater little corner of the world, we’re going to—”
Lexi put a hand on Maria’s shoulder to silence her. “The less said tonight, the better. We have a court date next week.” She gave Julia a curt nod. “Ms. Morgan, we’ll see you then.”
“Take care of the check, Lexi.” Maria Johnson barked the order at her attorney before stalking out of the restaurant.
“Does that mean she’s leaving Brevia?” Julia asked.
“For now. I’ll stay for the duration of the process. The Johnsons will fly back and forth.” Lexi leaned toward Julia. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but a stable home environment could change the situation.” She clapped a hand over her mouth as if she’d said too much, then nodded to the group and scurried away.
Julia reached forward to hug Joe. “Thank you, Mr. Callahan. For what you said.”
“I meant it. Sam isn’t going to let anything happen to you.”
Sam.
Julia turned, but focused her attention on the badge pinned to Sam’s beige shirt, unable to make eye contact with him. Instead she looked out at the tables surrounding them. “Sorry for the commotion. Go back to dinner, and we’ll get out of your way.”
“Wait a minute.” Sam’s voice cut through the quiet.
Julia held her breath.
“As most of you heard tonight, Julia and I have something to celebrate.” He grabbed her hand and drew her back to him. Her fingers spread across his broad chest of their own accord. “We need to make this believable for the gossip mill,” he whispered against her ear.
A round of applause rang out in the restaurant followed by several clinks on glasses. “Kiss. Kiss. Kiss,” came the call from the bar.
Julia froze as Sam gazed down at her, his expression heated. “Better give them what they want.”
“It’s totally unbelievable and I had garlic for dinner,” she muttered, squirming in his arms.
“I’ll take my chances,” he answered with a laugh.
“Have it your way.” Cheeks burning, she raised her head and pressed her mouth to his, a chaste peck fit for the balcony at Buckingham Palace. When she would have ended the kiss, Sam caught hold of her neck and dipped her low. She let out a startled gasp and he slid his tongue against the seam of her lips. Ever so gently he molded his mouth to hers.
A fire sparked low in her belly as she breathed in the scent of him, warm and woodsy and completely male. Lost in her reaction, her arms wound around his neck and her fingers played in the short hair along his collar. She heard his sharp intake of breath and suddenly he righted them both to a chorus of catcalls and stomping feet.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” someone yelled.
“Okay, folks.” Sam’s gaze swept across the restaurant and he smiled broadly. “Show’s over. I’m going to see my lovely bride-to-be home.”
Julia pressed her fingers to her lips and looked at Sam. The smile didn’t reach his eyes.
When she turned, Joe watched her. “You’re a breath of fresh air if I ever saw one,” he said and gave her trembling hand a squeeze.
She led the group into the night but not before she noticed several members of the ladies’ auxiliary huddled in the corner. They’d have a field day with this one. The salon would be buzzing with the news by morning. Her chest tightened as she felt Sam behind her, frustration pouring off him like a late-winter rainstorm. Maybe he’d already come to regret his stupid proposal.
This entire situation was his fault. She’d told him she didn’t need a hero, and that was the truth.
Still, his announcement had rattled Maria Johnson and her attorney. She couldn’t figure out how a fake engagement would benefit Sam, but he wasn’t her problem.
Charlie was Julia’s only priority. She’d do anything for her son.
Right now she needed time to think, to figure out how to make this bizarre predicament work in her favor. “It’s been a long day, boys,” she said quickly. “Joe, it was nice to meet you. How long will you be—”
“We need to talk,” Sam interrupted, gripping her arm when she tried to break away.
“I thought I’d be around for a while. Give my boy some lessons in tapping into his feelings, finding his passion and all that.” Joe gave Sam a hearty thump on the back. “After that little display, I think he may have wised up on his own. You’re good for him, Julia. Real good.”
Sam’s hold on her loosened. He studied his father. “You mean one kiss convinced you I can do without a dose of your emotional mumbo jumbo?”
Julia swatted his arm. “That’s your father. Show some respect.”
Sam shot her a withering look. “I’ll remember that the next time your mom’s around.”
Joe laughed and wrapped them in another hug. “Not just any kiss. It’s different when you kiss the one. Trust me, I know. I bet they could see the sparks flying between the two of you clear down to the coast.”
Looking into Joe’s trusting face, she couldn’t let Sam’s father pin his hopes on her. She had to tell him the truth.
“Mr. Callahan, I don’t—”
“You’re right, Dad,” Sam agreed. “It’s different with Julia. I’m different, and I don’t want you to worry about me anymore.” He pinched the tip of Julia’s nose, a little harder than necessary if you asked her.
“Ouch.”
“Such a delicate flower.” He laughed and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. “What would I do without you?”
“Troll for women over in Charlotte?” she offered.
“See why I need her by my side?”
Joe nodded. “I do.”
Sam turned to Julia and rubbed his warm hands down her arms. “Where are you parked?”
Julia pointed to the blue Jetta a few spaces down from where they stood, her mind still reeling.
“Perfect. I’m going to walk Dad back to the hotel and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
She didn’t like the look in his eye. “I’m kind of busy at the salon tomorrow.”
“Never too busy for your one true love.”
Julia stifled the urge to gag. “I guess not.”
“Get going, then, sugar.” He pinched her bottom, making her yelp. She rounded on him but, at the calculating gleam in his eye, turned back toward her car. Sam and his dad watched until she’d pulled out.
Despite this peculiar evening, his announcement had served its purpose. Lexi Preston had said having Sam in the picture might change things. That could be the understatement of the year, but if it kept Charlie safe, Julia would make it work.
No matter what.
* * *
Sam took a fortifying drink of coffee and watched as another woman walked through the door of The Best Little Hairhouse. He knew Julia had worked at the salon since her return to Brevia two years ago, but that wasn’t why he avoided this place like the plague. It was too girlie for him. The bottles of hair product and little rows of nail polish on the shelves gave him the heebie-jeebies.
The one time he’d ventured into the Hairhouse, after the owner had reported a man lurking in the back alley, he’d felt like a prize steer come up for auction.
He adjusted the brim of his hat, buttoned his jacket against the late-morning rain and started across the street. He’d put the visit off until almost lunchtime, irritated with himself at how much he wanted to see Julia again. Part of him wanted to blame her for making him crazy, but another piece, the part he tried to ignore, wanted to get close enough to her to smell the scent of sunshine on her hair.
He scrubbed a hand across his face. Sunshine on her hair? What the hell was that about? Women didn’t smell like sunshine. She worked at a salon and probably had a ton of gunk in her hair at any given moment. Although the way the strands had felt soft on his fingers when he’d bent to kiss her last night told another story.
One he wasn’t interested in reading. Or so he told himself.
Sam opened the front door and heard a blood-curdling scream from behind the wall at the reception desk. He jerked to attention. He might not spend a lot of time in beauty salons but could guarantee that sound wasn’t typical.
“I’m going to choke the life out of her,” a woman yelled, “as soon as my nails dry.”
Nope. Something wasn’t right.
He glanced at the empty reception desk then stepped through the oversized doorway that led to the main room.
A pack of women huddled around one of the chairs, Julia in the center of the mix.
“Is there a problem here, ladies?”
Seven pairs of eyes, ranging from angry to horrified, turned to him.
“Sam, thank the Lord you’re here.”
“You would not believe what happened.”
“Congrats on your engagement, Chief.”
The last comment produced silence from the group. He met Julia’s exasperated gaze. “Not a good time,” she mouthed and turned back to the center of the cluster, only to be pushed aside by a woman with a black smock draped around her considerable girth. Sam tried not to gape at her head, where the neat curls framing her face glowed an iridescent pink.
“There will be time for celebrating later. I want that woman arrested,” Ida Garvey announced. Sam was used to Ida issuing dictatorial commands. She was the wealthiest woman in town, thanks to a generous inheritance from her late husband. Other than the clown hair, she looked like a picture-perfect grandma, albeit one with a sharp tongue and a belief that she ruled the world.
For an instant, he thought she was pointing at Julia. Then he noticed the young woman hunched in the corner, furiously wiping tears from her cheeks.
“Ida, don’t be a drama queen.” Julia shook her head. “No one is being arrested. Accidents happen. We’ll fix it, but—”
“She turned my hair pink!” With a screech, Ida vaulted from the chair and grabbed a curling iron from a stand. “I’m going to kill her!” Ida lunged toward the cowering woman, but Julia stepped into her path. The curling iron dropped, the barrel landing on Julia’s arm before clattering to the floor.
Julia bit out an oath and Ida screamed again. “Look what you made me do,” she bellowed at the now-sobbing stylist. “I burned her.”
Sam strode forward with a new appreciation for the simplicity of breaking up a drunken bar brawl. Ida looked into his face then staggered back, one hand fluttering to her chest. “Are you gonna arrest me, Chief?”
“Sit down, Mrs. Garvey.” He waved at the group of women. “All of you, back off. Now.”
Ida plopped back into the chair as the group fell silent again.
Julia winced as he took her arm in his hands. A crimson mark slashed across her wrist, the skin already raised and angry. “Where’s a faucet?”
“I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Happens all the time.”
“I sure as hell hope not.”
“Not exactly like this. I can use the sink in back.” She tugged her arm but he didn’t let go.
“Don’t anyone move,” he ordered the women. “That means you, Ida.”
“I don’t need your help,” Julia ground out as he followed her to the back of the salon.
“You aren’t leaving me alone with that crowd.”
“Not so brave now.” Julia fumbled with the tap.
He nudged her out of the way. “I’ll do it. Nice ring. I have good taste.”
“I had it from... Well, it doesn’t matter.” Her cheeks flamed as she glanced at the diamond sparkling on her left hand. “I thought I should wear something until we had a chance to figure things out. Fewer questions that way. You know how nosy people are, especially in the salon.”
They needed to talk, but Sam couldn’t get beyond Julia being hurt, even by a curling iron. “Tell me what happened.”
“Crystal, the one in the corner, is our newest stylist. Ida came in without an appointment and she was the only one available. When she went to mix the color, Ida started barking orders. Crystal got so nervous, she mixed it wrong. Instead of a fluffy white cotton ball, Mrs. Garvey’s head is now glowing neon pink.”
Sam hid a smile as he drew her arm under the faucet and adjusted the temperature. She closed her eyes and sighed as cold water washed over the burn. He drew small circles on her palm, amazed at the softness of her skin under the pad of his thumb.
After a moment he asked, “Do you want to press charges?”
Her eyes flew open, and then she smiled at his expression. “Assault with a deadly styling tool? No, thanks.”
