Chapter 14

After stopping for ice cream, Sharon and Andy walked hand in hand on the beach. They had left their shoes in the car. Sharon found herself hypersensitive about people looking at her, wondering if they were just casual glances or if they studied her because they were trying to figure out if she were the woman who had escaped her kidnapper who had been all over the news. It was difficult enough having to deal with the aftermath of an abduction but the forced celebrity status was an added burden. She found it invasive and uncomfortable. At the hospital, she had seen a picture flashed of herself on the news as she was waiting for the police and ambulance to arrive, before they had removed the handcuffs from her wrists and before her injuries had been treated. Did people know how humiliating that was? No doubt her family had seen it. It pained her to think that the people that she loved most in the world had had to see that, Ryan and Kate, her sister…Andy.

"Sharon?" Andy was looking at her intently.

"Oh, sweetheart…I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't hear a thing you said."

"It's okay," Andy answered patiently. He suppressed the desire to ask if she were all right. It was hard walking that line, wanting to be there for her unquestionably but also wanting to give her enough space to work through her feelings without feeling smothered.

"I was saying that I should get you out of the sun before you burn to a crisp."

Sharon nodded. She had forgotten all about sunscreen. Usually she was on top of things like that since she did burn easily but it hadn't crossed her mind. "Okay," she agreed. "Please make note of what a model patient I'm being," she added.

With one arm around her, Andy caressed her back as they walked, her skin bare at the top of her sundress. He grinned at her. "Duly noted."

A jogger came toward them, slowing down as she saw Sharon. Her blonde ponytail bounced against the back of her neck as she moved. She looked to be in her early twenties, probably a college student.

"Hey," she said as she caught her breath, "Look, I'm sorry to bother but I just had to stop and tell you how awesome I think you are. What you did, getting away from that guy was just incredible. I hope I didn't offend you by stopping."

"Not at all," answered Sharon. "Thank you." Not wanting to intrude any further on a private moment, the jogger continued on her way.

"My future wife…the super hero," Andy told Sharon affectionately as they continued to walk back to the car. "You really are, you know."

Sharon blushed. She looked at Andy. "It's nice to know that not everyone sees me as a victim."

Andy looked hurt. "You don't mean me, do you?"

Sharon leaned more closely into him. "No, not you. Never you. The media. That's what I was thinking about earlier and why I was so quiet."

When they reached the car, Andy put the windows down for them right away so that the car would cool off quickly. Before he started the engine, he turned toward Sharon.

"I was thinking about something, Shar. Ryan's going to be a dad in a few months. I've got my grandkids who come to visit. My house is getting up there in years. Maybe we should think about getting something a little bigger. We both have time on our hands for a little bit so we could actually go house-hunting together."

Sharon considered this. "Is this because of what happened?" she asked.

It was. Partially. But Andy wasn't going to tell Sharon that. The truth was, he'd never be able to walk into that garage again without thinking about Korski, dragging the woman he loved into that dark Jeep. If he felt that way, he could only imagine what it would be like for her. He truly did think that they could use some more room and he liked the idea of starting fresh with her with a brand new house, something that they could make entirely theirs. He had toyed with the idea even before the incident, right around the time he proposed. But Sharon's abduction definitely made the notion seem like a necessity rather than a luxury. It would be good for both of them to get out of there, he reasoned. Looking for a house might also boost her spirits, give her a positive focus, and help her heal. Honestly, he didn't see any downside. It wasn't like they couldn't afford it.

"No, Sharon. I really think we could use the extra room. And I'd kind of like to get you that window seat that you've always wanted." Sharon leaned over Andy's seat and hugged him tightly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I love you," she said softly into his shoulder.

"I love you, too, baby. Can I take that as a yes?"

Sharon nodded. "Can we start looking tomorrow?" she asked.

"Absolutely."

Provenza followed Samantha into the kitchen. She was a chameleon as far as personal styles go. On the night that he'd spent at the house with her and Rusty, she was dressed almost conservatively, in a Banana Republic kind of way – a kind of casual chic that was more like something he'd expect to see on Sharon. This afternoon she looked more trendy with her designer jeans, black V-neck tee-shirt with its intricate purple and turquoise Goth design, and short high heel boots. It looked good on her. But Provenza suspected that anything would.

"Something wrong, Louie?" Samantha asked, interrupting his reverie.

"No, you just look different," be blurted out.

Samantha laughed. "Oh, honey, you ain't seen nothing yet. One of my ex-husbands used to say that being married to me made him feel like a polygamist; he was never sure which wife he'd come home to. I like changing my appearance. I blame my parents. They dressed Sharon and me alike as kids. It was lame."

"How is Sharon?" Provenza asked.

The momentary sparkle in Samantha's eyes seemed to vanish. "She's okay. Physically, she's making progress. Thank God it doesn't seem like the head injury is going to cause any permanent problems. That was scary. Emotionally….it's going to take some time. But even there, I think she's coming along. Andy's a big help. My sister's strong. She'll pull through. Even so, it's hard seeing someone you love suffer. I wish I could turn the clock back and erase the whole thing." She sighed. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Just water."

Provenza watched her buzz around the kitchen. She had a vibrant energy, a speed and quickness that infiltrated everything that she did. He tried not to think about the teary, red-eyed Samantha that he'd been with the other night, the one who had poured her heart out about how devastated she'd be if anything happened to Sharon. He'd said things, too, things he would never admit to anyone, about how Andy and Sharon had become like family. He and Samantha had shared tips on marriage, covering everything from the baleful moment when you know something has gone awry to maximizing your divorce attorney's time to the best of your advantage. She was easy to talk to, too easy. He appreciated her bluntness even as he found it occasionally disarming. It stripped him of his caustic defenses; that, he didn't appreciate. Those fortified battlements were there for a damned good reason.

Samantha handed him his glass of water and her fingertips accidentally brushed against his in the exchange. She noticed. She cocked her head to one side ever so slightly after the light contact. A little gleam of mischief appeared in her green eyes and the corners of her mouth turned upward.

"You know, Louie," she told him with a warning tone in her voice, "I will have you know that I have a sadistic streak. You want to avoid a certain subject and it only makes me all the more determined to….bring it up."

He almost choked on his water.

Samantha chuckled. "7:30 on Saturday is acceptable," she informed him with an emphatic shake of her head, "but I'll have to pick you up."

Provenza must have missed a step. "What?"

"Well, you certainly can't pick me up here, unless you want to let Dad-Andy and Mom-Sharon in on what naughty kids we've been," she teased. "We slept together, Louie. We can avoid talking about it but that's not going to magically transform it into something that didn't happen." She waved her hand as if she were waving a wand. "I usually date first and have sex later; this was an exception." She leaned toward him, a fraction of an inch, as if she were telling him something very private and extremely important. "I think I'd like to try the dating part."

While Provenza processed this unexpected information, Samantha hopped up on one of the stools by the kitchen island.

"Samantha-" Provenza began.

"You are not obligated to accept. I'm a big girl. I don't play games and I have a healthy enough ego that I can handle rejection." She grabbed an apple from Andy and Sharon's fruit bowl and took a bite.

"Samantha, it isn't that I don't like you – I do." He sighed. "It's complicated. You're Sharon's sister. Andy's my best friend."

"We're not picking out a china pattern, Louie. I'm just inviting you to dinner. It's not complicated at all. I like you. I think you like me. We'll eat food, we'll drink wine, and we'll chat. I won't even compromise your virtue."

"You are a very strange woman," Provenza informed her irritably. "I'm a cranky old curmudgeon. I'm difficult," he added gruffly.

"How in the world do you manage to have five ex-wives?" Samantha marveled. "That's absolutely terrible advertising, you know." It was clear that she had not been dissuaded. "Besides, that's not the real reason that you're hesitant."

Wasn't she listening to a thing he said? "Ah," Provenza accused and he pointed a finger at her, "So now you're going to tell me how I feel. Wonderful. I love pop psychology."

Samantha laughed. She was completely unfazed by his tone. "No pop psychology involved, I assure you. I hate that stuff, too. Common sense. You're worried that if things go poorly between us that it could compromise your relationship with Andy and Sharon – whom you already stated are like family."

Provenza was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth to say something but he couldn't come up with a logical counter-argument because – she was right. It wasn't the entire reason that this whole thing was a dangerously terrible idea but it was a big part of it. She had a lot of nerve, penetrating his defenses and getting right to the heart of the matter with her keen, spot-on assessment. He didn't like it. Not one bit.

"That is absolutely ridic—"

Samantha hopped off of her stool and grabbed Provenza's face in both of her hands. In her booted heels, she was slightly taller than he was. She kissed him and his verbal protest evaporated into something else, something warm and delightful, like an aromatic and delicious sip of fine wine; he couldn't remember what he was going to say anyway, not that it had been particularly cogent. The kiss was just starting to get good when there was the sound of a key in the front door.

The pair broke apart rapidly. To Samantha's credit, Provenza noted, she was the picture of composure. Grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser, she handed it to him.

"My lipstick…"

Provenza swore and wiped his mouth, looking at her for confirmation that he had gotten it all. Samantha nodded.

Andy and Sharon walked into the kitchen. Andy was carrying two grocery bags and Sharon was arguing with him that she could carry something. She looked delicate. That was the first word that crept into Provenza's head when he saw her. It was particularly noticeable to him because Sharon, by her very nature, was not fragile. He recalled how forlorn she'd looked when going through the worst of her divorce; this was more pronounced. Andy looked tired. It wasn't a surprise to see them not looking like themselves. They'd been through a terrible ordeal. But Provenza felt for them. They were good people. They shouldn't have to deal with the kind of pain that fate had brought their way.

"You look like hell, Flynn," Provenza told his friend.

Andy laughed. "Thanks, buddy."

Provenza hugged Sharon. It wasn't awkward. In fact, he held onto her for a couple of moments before releasing her.

"And you look worse," he informed her crossly when he did release her.

Sharon hummed pleasantly. "It's good to see you, too."

"The flowers are for you. From the team." Provenza turned awkwardly and pointed unceremoniously to the vase on the counter. "I hate this sentimental crap," he grumbled. "I'm glad you're all right." His tone was an odd combination of grouchy affection.

Sharon inhaled the scent of one of the roses. "Mmmmm. Thank you."

"The office isn't the same without you and I have to do those compliance audits that I hate. I'm doing a lot of skimming."

Sharon was appalled. "You can't just idly peruse those!" Provenza hid his smile as he got a glimpse of the fussy, persnickety Sharon that they all knew and loved.

Provenza grinned. "Oh, and your files might be a little bit out of order. Oops." He cracked his knuckles. Sharon was extremely particular about her filing system. It was so precise and elaborate that she was the only one who knew how to put things back properly. "All the more reason for you to hurry it up and get better."

Sharon was about to ask which cabinet when she noticed that Provenza, Samantha, and her husband-to-be were all (barely) suppressing their laughter.

"I hate all of you," Sharon huffed with narrowed eyes.

There was a collective release of laughter from the three instigators. Sharon merely glared at them.

"Well, it looks like I've done enough damage here for the moment," chuckled Provenza. "Brenda's going to come by tomorrow," he added. "And if any of you need anything, you know you can call me." For some inexplicable reason, as fate would have it, he found himself looking into Sam's vivid green eyes when he said it. He promptly looked away.

"I'll walk you out, not that you deserve it," said Andy as he walked with Provenza to the door.

Author's note: Happy holidays, everyone! This will probably be my last update until next weekend. Thank you all for your feedback and your lovely PMs. You guys are great and you make the whole writing process that much better as it is a tremendous gift to have folks to share it with!