Back to You (Short and Sweet Romantic Read) Read online

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  Copyright by Inés Saint

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews. This is a new, expanded version of a title previously published as a short story.

  Full-length Novels by Inés Saint

  Spinning Hills Trilogy published by Kensington/Lyrical Press

  In Spinning Hills, “quirky” is a good thing—especially the charming houses that line the streets. One by one, the Amador brothers are restoring them, committed to a new beginning for the old-fashioned town. But they’re learning that every house needs a heart to be a home…

  Flipped! (Spinning Hills 1)

  Needs a Little TLC (Spinning Hills 2)

  Fixer-Upper (Spinning Hills 3)

  Full-length Stand Alone Novels:

  Charmed published by Amazon Encore

  Strangers in the Night published by Amazon Encore

  Coming in November 2016:

  The Piper Sisters Trilogy

  When three sisters arrive in Spinning Hills, home of the third most haunted street in the state, they’re looking for solace and support as they clear out the ghosts of their own pasts. But what they find is something a whole lot sweeter . . .

  Perfect Paige (Nov. 8, 2016)

  Good Gracie (April 11, 2017)

  Haunted Hope (Late 2017)

  Back to You

  ~1~

  Their most nap-resistant child, Emily, laid her head down on her princess pillow, eyelids still fluttering. Samantha smiled and continued to sing, her gaze traveling toward the window and the picturesque downtown area outside. Spring-summer grass swayed in the breeze, as if it were dancing to her song, and rain clouds loomed on the distance, just beyond the rocky shores of Haven, Maine.

  Hey, it’s Happy Time, you’ve gotta leave it all behind.

  The long-ago words often came to her when she looked over at the old, rambling Victorian on the rocky cliff overlooking the expansive sea. Their town’s own plundering pirate, Captain Cook, had built it over two hundred years before, and it had inspired many an imagination. From a distance, it still looked majestic on its privileged perch. Close up, though, it had seen better days. The rose-pink paint was peeling, and some of the wood siding was rotted through.

  She finished her song and looked back at Emily, who was sound asleep.

  When Samantha’s cell phone began to vibrate, she soundlessly moved to the door, and signaled to Maria, the pre-k teacher, that she was leaving the soothing, sky-blue room where the youngest kids napped.

  In the main room, she looked down at the caller ID, and closed her eyes. Should she answer? When the phone vibrated for the fifth time, she breathed out, and answered, “Hello?”

  “Hey, Samantha, how are you?” Brad’s once-welcome voice asked.

  Staring across the room at nothing at all, she answered, “Fine.”

  A beat of silence. “Do you have plans for Memorial Day weekend?”

  She heard sweet, melodic voices in the background and wondered if they belonged to his two little girls. “A few.”

  “Have you decided if you’d like to meet?”

  “No.”

  “No you don’t want to meet, or no you haven’t decided?” His voice was soft, hopeful.

  “No… I haven’t decided.” Musical chimes at the door signaled she had company. She looked up to see her best friend and office manager, Marisol, walk in.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said.

  Marisol’s usual smile disappeared when she looked at Samantha’s face. “Was that Brad again?”

  “Yes.” Samantha walked over to the sink and began filling a bucket with water and soap.

  “You know why he’s calling you, right?”

  “No, but apparently, you think you do.” She retrieved a sponge from under the sink, plunked it into the bucket, and carried it over to a milk-chocolaty mess on the tile floor, thankful the spill hadn’t occurred on the bright “fun with phonics” rug a few steps away.

  Marisol blew out a sigh. “I’m sorry I caught you at the end of your conversation. I didn’t come here to argue, I came here to share some news.”

  Samantha bumped her friend’s knee with her hand, relieved to be off the subject of Brad. “Well, then, share away.”

  Marisol reacquired the excited look she’d had when she’d first walked in, and followed Samantha, kneeling on the floor in front of her. “Well, it’s about the new pediatrician. You’ll never guess who he is. Everyone’s talking about it, but no one can believe it.”

  Samantha stopped scrubbing. “Who?”

  “Tony the Town Terror! He bought Dr. Crisp’s practice,” Marisol declared. “I mean, I know I wasn’t around twenty years ago, but the guy’s a legend.”

  “Tony’s back? And… he’s a pediatrician?” Samantha sat back on her heels and let the news sink in. The more she thought about it, the more she smiled. Of course nobody believed it. But she did, and she felt a rush of happiness like she hadn’t felt in years. “I used to babysit him.”

  “So I’ve been told. You’re a legend, too, for putting up with him. Did you really jump into that disgusting pond over at Rolling Acres to save him?”

  “I did.”

  “Gross… and is it true you kept him from breaking his neck?”

  “Well, he broke his right arm, his left leg, and three ribs the year before I started babysitting him, but he only broke an ankle and two fingers afterward, so people would say I saved him from breaking his neck, but it’s not technically true.”

  “Wow. That was some kid. I also heard he suffered a partially collapsed lung after he rode under Mack Turner’s truck on his skateboard. Was that before or after you began watching him?”

  “That was actually right before the town hired me to babysit him.”

  “The town hired you?” Marisol gaped. “Where were his parents?”

  “His dad skipped out on his mom before he was born, and his mom left soon after. His grandmother raised him till he was eleven, but her health was always fragile, so he tended to… get into trouble.”

  “I’ll say. No wonder the kids here seem tame to you.”

  Samantha looked outside toward the expansive yard where the kindergarten kids were playing, supervised by their teacher. She watched them for a moment. Some were playing hopscotch, others were running around playing catch, while a lone child sat under the huge oak, seemingly inhabiting her own world. She was brought back to summer days of exploring the town, the shores, and the fields with an imaginative Tony. “I think I’m the one who owes Tony—he taught me to appreciate kids. Everyone loved him, but they treated him like a caricature. They couldn’t see how genuine his spirit was. He was more real than anyone else I knew.”

  “Are you going to stop by his office for a visit?”

  Samantha shook her head, looked down, and resumed scrubbing the floor. “No, of course not. It’s been almost twenty years and he probably doesn’t remember me. I was four years older than him, and he was just a kid. But I’ll call Mrs. Stevenson to see if he’ll make house calls here, the way Dr. Crisp did.”

  “Oh, she’s the one who told me all about him, and she already said he’d continue to do everything Dr. Crisp used to do. He wants the transition to be as smooth and painless for everyone as possible.”

  Samantha was happy to hear that. She’d built two small sick rooms into her preschool, but if a doctor
couldn’t come to see the kids, she had to call their parents to pick them up. She hated seeing frazzled parents taking vacation leave to pick up their sick kids when there was a doctor within walking distance who could check up on them.

  The stench of stale milk soon grabbed her attention, and Samantha’s thoughts took another direction.

  ***

  On Wednesday afternoon, Dr. Tony Mancini got the call he’d been waiting for. A child at Happy Time Learning Center was feeling ill, and they needed him. Not that he was ever happy to see a sick kid, but he knew he’d get the call sooner or later, and he’d been curious to see Sam again.

  He walked out of his office, turned north at the big plastic ice cream cone next to the Dairy Shed and thought about Samantha Presley, his beautiful, honey-haired, honey-eyed babysitter. The only person, other than him, of course, who’d enjoyed his wilder years. The girl who’d told him he was bright and amazing. The girl who’d hugged him tightly after the town’s mayor publicly scolded him for climbing the water tower to get to a nest in a branch in a tree.

  It was fitting she’d started a preschool, and he was wondering if they’d reconnect. So far, all he’d been able to find out was that she’d married her high school football-star husband and divorced him five years later. She didn’t have any kids of her own.

  The moment he stepped into Sam’s preschool, he smiled, enjoying the fun color scheme. The rugs were all bright and had educational themes; like shapes, colors, and letters, the walls were a soft yellow, and the tables were red and blue. Beyond that there was a sun-filled yard dotted with red benches and a huge tree off to the side for those who wanted to stay in the shade.

  A young woman came up to him wearing a huge grin. She stared. He waited, but she didn’t say anything. Uncomfortable under her scrutiny, he introduced himself. “I’m Dr. Mancini, here to see a patient of mine.”

  “Over here, Dr. Mancini,” a voice he’d never forgotten called to him. Something in his chest expanded, and he was surprised to understand that it was the first time since he’d come back that he felt he’d come back home.

  He turned to see the same girl he’d loved with all his eight-year-old heart. The only person he’d truly missed when his grandmother died and he’d been taken from his little town in Maine to the big city of Richmond, Virginia, to live with foster parents.

  The last time he’d seen her, she’d been at a bus stop across a busy street, watching him play basketball. She’d left before he could say hello, or goodbye. She was a woman now, with a woman’s curves and a woman’s more measured look, and it made her more beautiful than the more youthful Sam in his memory. But some things never changed. Her soft wavy hair still looked as if it had been kissed by the sun, and her blue eyes still rivaled the sky on a bright summer day.

  Samantha called over to Dr. Mancini, embarrassed that Darlene, one of her child care technicians, was staring up at him with a goofy smile on her face. The moment he turned, she felt the goofy smile on her own face. God, but he was gorgeous! And it was definitely Tony. She could see the zeal behind the bright green eyes and the spiky black hair that always had a mind of its own. Samantha bit her lip, to keep herself from looking as silly as Darlene looked.

  “You named your school Happy Time,” he said, his emerald eyes twinkling.

  Samantha nodded, not knowing what to say. Tony was a man now, and he was a lot to take in. He walked over then, and engulfed her in a warm, wonderful hug. “You haven’t changed a bit,” he said when he set her down.

  She laughed. “Great bedside manner there, but the last time you saw me I was fifteen. I assure you, I’ve changed quite a bit,” she said, thinking about everything she’d gone through.

  They parted then, he looked down at her, and she became aware of the breasts and hips that hadn’t been there when he’d left. Why was she feeling like an awkward teenager? This was a kid she’d babysat, for crying out loud! She slipped into teacher mode. “Well, it’s so great to see you, and I can’t tell you how happy I was to find out you were back in town. And as our pediatrician, no less! I’m so proud of you.”

  He grinned at her then, as if he knew exactly what she was doing. So she cleared her throat and reminded them both why he was at her preschool. “Your patient, Christopher Jenkins, is right here.” She motioned him into the room, and left him alone with his patient.

  Ten minutes later, she strolled to the door, to see if Tony was through with his checkup. Christopher was looking up at Tony, wearing a frown. “But I have a T-ball game on Saturday, and we’re going to win. Can you please not tell my mom I can’t play?”

  “You know you’re going to win? Don’t tell me you rigged the game!” Tony ruffled the boy’s hair.

  Christopher giggled. “No. It’s just a strange feeling I have, that we’re going to win. I feel it here.” He rubbed his belly.

  “Ah, the gut feeling.” Tony nodded, his face serious. “Hard to argue with that, because I happen to know exactly how you feel. How about I promise I won’t tell your mom you can’t play if you get better by Saturday?”

  “Yes.” Christopher tried to yell, but coughed instead.

  Samantha knocked on the door. Tony turned and seemed surprised. “Oh. I didn’t realize we had such a large audience.”

  Large audience? Samantha looked back to see three of her employees standing behind her, on their tiptoes, all sporting sappy smiles. A moment later they crowded into the room and fawned over the patient. “Um, Darlene, Maria, and Marisol, who’s taking care of our other thirty-six children? Kindergarten recess isn’t over,” she reminded them.

  “My half is napping; I can see them from here,” Maria defended herself.

  A loud thud sounded outside, and Samantha ran out to see little Patrick Murphy had been pushed off a chair. She ran over, leaving the good doctor with Christopher and the three workers turned volunteer doctor’s aides.

  Samantha had the kids sit in a circle on the soft grass under the tree so they could play “battle scars.” Each child had one minute to show a scar and safely act out how they’d acquired it. They all loved to show off and top each other with outrageous stories.

  Tony came out then, and reassured her that Christopher could stay resting in the sick room until his parents picked him up. “I gave Darlene instructions and sent a prescription to Swinton’s Pharmacy down the street.” Samantha nodded, and Tony stayed to listen as the last two kids told their stories. When they were done, he leaned over to ask her if he could show off a few of his own battle scars.

  “We’d be here for weeks.” She laughed. “And I’m afraid you’d give them some very bad ideas.”

  The kids begged to see at least one of Tony’s battle scars, and he showed them a long scar that snaked up the length of his arm. “That one’s new.” Samantha felt her eyes widen.

  “New to you. It’s been with me for fifteen years. I got caught on a security fence trying to rescue a dog I thought was being abused by its owner.”

  “Was he being abused?”

  “It was a she. And no, she wasn’t being abused. Apparently, beagles always howl as if they’re in intolerable pain. But the owner wasn’t angry, and she gave me one of her puppies.”

  Samantha traced the scar, her skin prickling at the thought of the pain he must’ve endured. “This would not have happened under my watch.” She smiled until she caught Tony watching her. Their eyes met, and she removed her fingers, trying hard not to swallow.

  “You used to watch him, too? Was he at this school a long, long time ago?” a little girl named Billie asked. It was the first time in years Samantha had thought of her age. Jeez! She wasn’t that old.

  “Ms. Presley here was my babysitter,” Tony explained, suppressing a grin.

  “Did you used to wish she was your mommy, too?” a girl named Carrie asked.

  Samantha led Tony to the door and shuffled him inside before he could answer, while looking over her shoulder and explaining, “Dr. Mancini has many patients to see and prescriptions to wri
te over at his office.”

  Darlene, who appeared by Tony’s side yet again, said, “You know, even I wish Samantha was my mom sometimes.” Samantha’s insides sunk, in part because Darlene was the type to put other women down so she could lift herself up, and in part because she was starting to feel ancient.

  Tony winked at Samantha. “I never did. I used to have the biggest crush on her, so that would’ve been kind of awkward.”

  Samantha’s cheeks flamed. It was ridiculous that she should feel so flattered that a kid she used to babysit had had a crush on her, way back when.

  Marisol looked up at Tony with a new appreciation in her eyes. “I think some of the little boys here do, too. And I’m sure some of the fathers do.”

  “Okay, that’s enough. We’re at my school, guys, not McGruber’s,” Samantha reminded them, mentioning a popular downtown pub.

  “Speaking of McGruber’s, why don’t you join us there Saturday evening?” Marisol asked Tony.

  “That sounds great.” Tony turned to Samantha again. “Hey, before I leave, I was wondering if you could stop by my office on Friday, after work.” He jutted his chin toward a colorful wall behind her desk up front. “It’s seriously outdated, and I’m thinking something like this could work.” He looked at her then, and it was almost surreal how his eyes had retained the hopeful look she’d never been able to resist when he was a boy. But he wasn’t a boy, and the look was attached to a sexy man who oozed charm. He must’ve noticed her hesitation because he added, “I could really use your eye, Sam, and we can catch up while you give me a few ideas.”

  Samantha nodded and quickly turned to go back outside. For the first time in years, she wanted to crumple up in a corner and cry, and only because he’d called her Sam. It had been years since anyone had called her Sam.

  Sam had been the spirited, adventurous, but too-sensitive girl who’d always felt left out. At fifteen, she’d transformed herself into Samantha, a runner-up for homecoming queen, a cheerleader, and the football star’s girlfriend. Sam had been real. Samantha had not been.