Different Forms of Happiness

Part 17

Chapter 16 - Scott

Scott fidgeted with his tie.  He couldn't take the wait any longer.  Graham had walked from the room with a smile on his face, and Scott knew that she had to look beautiful.  She didn't need the dress or the makeup to be gorgeous, and it scared him to think of what she would look like once they tried to make her look amazing. 

Reaching up, he loosened his tie again.  It wasn't just seeing Sam that was making him nervous, it was the party itself.  His mother threw the most extravagant parties known to humanity.  Ice sculptures, limos, waiters, and anything else the woman could think of.  Along with those things came many people, people he preferred not to talk to unless it was to make business arrangements.  It was why he always took a date.  He could opt out of conversation, claiming that his date wanted to dance. 

"Can Sam dance?" he blurted, making Max and Graham frown at him.

"I don't know," Graham answered.  "I've never asked."

Max rolled his eyes at them.  "Of course she can dance.  If she couldn't, she would have told you when you asked her to a party."

"Point taken."  Scott glanced down at his watch.  "How long does it take someone to put a dress on?"

Graham looked towards Max, who sent Scott a disbelieving expression.  "There is more to it than putting on a dress.  Just calm down, she'll be out any minute now."

"Maybe I should—"

His words froze in his throat as Sam stepped out of her bedroom.  Had her skin always looked so smooth?  And her eyes, without her glasses, they looked larger, but still as dark as usual.  Even as she stepped towards him with a smile on her face, he couldn't form words.  She was breathtaking, and at that moment, Scott wanted nothing more to push her back into her room and tell her he changed her mind.

"You look beautiful," Graham said, walking forward to pull her into a hug. 

She smiled at Graham, but kept her eyes on Scott.  He could see the worry deep in them, as if she wondered if she was good enough for his mother.  Graham released her, and Max stepped forward.  He pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling a piece of hair from the up do and letting it fall down her cheek.  The curl bounced for a second, and Scott watched the movement. 

"You're beautiful, Sammy," Max whispered as he took a step away from her.

"Thanks," Sam mumbled, still looking at Scott with unease on her face.

Clearing his throat, he took a step forward.  "You, um, look nice."

A small smile formed on her lips.  "Thanks."

"I didn't mean nice," he explained.  "I meant wonderful, amazing, any other adjective that I can't seem to think of at the moment."

This time, she laughed at him.  "Thank you, Scott.  You don't look too bad yourself."

"Well thank you," he said while doing a little bow.  Another laugh escaped her lips, making him smile.  He liked the sound, hoped he would continue to hear it throughout the night.  Straightening, he held an arm out for her.  "You ready?"

Taking a step towards him, she slipped her hand through his arm.  "As long as you promise not to leave me alone."

Looking down at her, he wondered if she realized the picture she made.  Here was a beautiful woman, not only on the outside, but on the inside too, who would show enough vulnerability to admit that she was nervous about going to his mother's party.  "I couldn't leave you alone if I wanted to."

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes going soft with some emotion he didn't recognize.  When she blinked though, it was gone, leaving her warm eyes staring back at him.  "Thanks."

He opened his mouth, ready to tell her it was his pleasure, when a voice interrupted him.  "While this is sweet," Kate said from Sam's bedroom doorway, "you all have a party to get to in the next hour, and I have a husband to attend to."

"Too much information," Max said with a grimace.

An evil smile crossed Kate's face. "If you don't leave now, I'll tell you how I let him lick whip cream from—"

"We're leaving!" Sam shouted, her face turning red.  "We're going.  I promise.  Just keep your sex life to yourself."

"My pleasure," Kate purred, making Scott wince.  Never would he be able to say those words again. 

Sam tugged on his arm in a gentle way.  "Can we go before she starts telling stories, please?" she whispered.

Kate laughed, obviously hearing Sam's plead, while Scott just nodded at her.  At this moment, he wasn't sure he could deny her anything.  Walking her towards her door, he opened it and let her walk through first.  As they exited, he jogged in front of her to open the limo door for her.  The smile that she sent him made him skip a beat.  As she slid in though, he hurried after her, worrying that Max would try to sit by her and talk the entire way to the party.  It wasn't that he didn't want her to talk to Max, but at this moment, he wanted her to himself, even if it was just for a minute or two. 

He sat beside her, and as the other two jumped in behind him, he stared.  Turning towards him, she subconsciously touched her hair.  "What?  Is something wrong?"

"With you?  No, but if you don't want to go tonight, I'll understand."

He wanted her to go, there was no doubt about that, but at the same time, he was hoping she would back out.  If she did, he wouldn't have to worry about protecting her from his mother's fifty questions.  Questions varying from Sam's occupation to how many men she has slept with.

"I want to go," she said, and when he didn't reply, she reached up and brushed a piece of his hair out of his eyes.  "I really don't mind."

"Good," he breathed.

"But, you have to promise me something."

Looking over at her, he wiggled his eyebrows.  "Anything you want."

She let out a laugh while shaking her head at him.  "You sound like Graham."  Clearing her throat, she shrugged.  "Trim your hair," she mumbled.  "I like being able to see your eyes."

He reached up, touching the hair that hadn't been cut in who knows win.  The reason why he hadn't cut it was that he saw no point.  Why would hair be the determining factor in a relationship?  If a woman liked him for who he was, she wouldn't care how long his hair was.  When Sam said it like that though, did he really have a choice?  She had admitted to liking to see his eyes.  No one had done that before.

Reaching down, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it.  With a smile, he shrugged at her.  "It's getting a little long anyway."

She stared at his hand for a moment before nodding.  "Just a little bit, but I don't think it matters what your hair looks like.  You'll always be a handsome guy.  You just try to hide your emotions from us, and the only way I know what you're really thinking is by looking into your eyes.  If you're hiding them behind your hair," she said, while looking up at him, "how am I supposed to know what you're thinking?"

Maybe cutting his hair wasn't such a good idea.  He didn't know if he wanted her to know what he was thinking.  Would she go running for the hills if she realized that he was actually starting to feel something towards her?  Clearing his throat, he opened his mouth to protest.

"Plus, they're such a pretty green color.  Why would you want to hide them?"

His protest died in his throat.  Tomorrow, he was cutting his hair.