Wrist-deep in biscuit dough, Brian turned his head and stared.
"What?
"And I respect you for having the courage to say it."
"What?"
"You got flour in your ears?" Sam said impatiently. "I said you were right, and you were right to say it. How long does it take that goddamn contraption to make a goddamn cup of coffee?" he muttered, staring accusingly at the machine.
Slowly, Brian began to knead again, but he kept his eyes on Sam. "You could squeeze off a cup if you need one."
"Well, I do." He opened a cupboard door, then scowled at the glasses and stemware.
"Coffee cups and mugs haven't been kept there for eight years," Brian said mildly. "Two cupboards down to the left-right over the coffee beverage area."
"Coffee beverage area," Sam murmured. "Fancy names for fancy drinks when all a man wants is a cup of black coffee."
"Our cappuccino and lattes are very popular."
Sam knew what cappuccino was, right enough-or was mostly sure. But lattes baffled him. He grunted, then carefully slid the glass carafe out to pour coffee into his mug. He sipped, felt a little better, and sipped again. "It's good coffee."
"It's all in the beans."
"I guess grinding them fresh makes some difference."
"AJI the difference in the world." Brian dropped the dough in the bowl, covered it, then walked to the sink to wash up. "Now, I believe we have what could pass as an actual conversation for the first time in, oh, most of my life."
"I haven't done right by you." Sam stared down into the rich black liquid in his mug. "I'm sorry."
Brian stopped drying his hands and gaped. "What?"
"Damned if I'm going to keep repeating myself" Sam jerked his head up, and his eyes were filled with frustration. "I'm giving you an apology, and you ought to be big enough to take it."
Brian held up a hand before it all descended into an argument again. "You caught me off guard. Knocked me flat," Brian corrected, and went to the refrigerator for breakfast meats and eggs. "Maybe I could accept it if I knew what you were apologizing for."
"For not being there when you were twelve and getting pounded on. When you were fifteen and sicking up your first beer. When you were seventeen and too stupid to know how to make love to a girl without becoming a father."
More than a little shaky, Brian took out a skillet. "Kate took me over to Savannah and bought me condoms."
"she did not." If the boy had slapped him over the head with the sausage meat, he'd have been less shocked. "Kate bought you rubbers?"
"she did." Brian found himself smiling over the memory as he heated the skillet. "Lectured me up one side and down the other about responsibility and restraint, abstinence. Then she bought me a pack of Tro'ans and told me if I couldn't control the urge, I'd do a damn sight better to wear protection."
"Sweet Jesus." The chuckle escaped as Sam leaned back on the counter. "I just can't picture it." Then he straightened, cleared his throat. "It should have been me telling you."
"Yes, it should have been you." As if the arrangement were vital, Brian set sausages in the skillet. "Why wasn't it?"
"I didn't have your mother telling me that I'd better go talk to that boy, something was on his mind. Or that Lexy had new dress shoes and wanted to show them off I saw those things for myself, but I got used to her prodding me on them. Then when I didn't have her, I let it all go." He set the coffee down, shot his hands in his pockets. "I'm not used to explaining myself. I don't like it."
Brian took out another bowl, broke the first egg for pancake batter. "Your choice."
"I loved her." It scared his throat, and Sam was grateful that Brian continued to focus on his work. "It's not easy for me to say that.
Maybe I didn't tell her enoijgh-the feeling came a lot easier than the words. I needed her. Serious Sam, she'd call me, and wouldn't let me stay that way for long. she loved being around new people, talking about everything under the sun. she loved this house, this island. And for a while, she loved me."
Brian didn't think he'd ever heard a longer speech from Sam Hath away. Not wanting to break the flow, he poured the butter he'd melted into the bowl and said nothing.
"We had our problems. I'm not going to pretend we didn't. But we always got through them. The night you were born ... Jesus, I was scared. Piss-yourself scared, but Belle wasn't. It was all a big adventure to her. And when it was over and she had you cuddled right up in her arms and nursing, she laid back against the pillows, smiling. 'Look what a beautiful baby we made ourselves, Sam. We'll have to make lots more." A man's got to love a woman like that," Sam murmured. "He doesn't even have a choice."