by A. J. Pine
“See? You added the fruit too early, and now it’s a pile of mush!” Anna yelled.
“Nobody has complained about my crepes yet! And look at that line, you crazy fruit diva! It’s only getting longer because they love my cooking.”
“Shit,” Sam hissed.
He pushed through the crowd as the bickering continued. By the time he made it to the front, Luis and Anna were—kissing.
Sam heard murmurs from the throngs of people.
“I hope my husband takes a hint from them,” one woman said to another.
“Are we gonna have to wait longer for the crepes? He probably burned this batch,” someone else said.
“Weren’t they the ones kissing at the bonfire last night? They should rename the place the Love Shack or something.”
Okay, that was the last straw. His ranch was not a love shack.
He opened his mouth to let everyone know this fact, when Delaney’s hand covered it up before he could speak.
“Slow down there, cowboy,” she said, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him away from his front row seat to whatever Luis and Anna did next.
He scanned the crowd and found his father and Scout waiting patiently with the rest for a crepe, so he let out a breath.
“But they were—”
“Giving the ranch publicity?” she asked.
“That kind of behavior is unprofessional.”
She cleared her throat. “And what were we doing last night after everyone else left the bonfire? Conducting a board meeting?”
His jaw tightened as he pushed his aviators onto his forehead, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Ow. Damn it.” He squeezed his eyes shut and hissed in a breath. She was right. It wasn’t Luis and Anna that were the problem. It was him. The anticipation of whether or not things with his father would turn south was keeping him from enjoying a beautiful day with a beautiful woman.
“Sorry!”
“Can you maybe remind me not to do that?” he said, gritting his teeth.
Delaney giggled, then threw her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she said again, her voice muffled by her hand. “But maybe if you take a deep breath before overreacting next time…”
His eyes narrowed. She had him pegged again, but it didn’t mean he liked being called on his own BS. He was the one who called BS on everyone else, and it was disconcerting to have the shoe on the other foot.
Delaney held her arms out and spun slowly, forcing him to take in their surroundings.
“Look,” she said. “All these people are here having fun. And they’re in line for food from your chef talking about your ranch. So Luis and Anna are a little volatile and don’t care about the PDA.” She shrugged. “It would also seem they’re falling in love, which could actually be good for business.”
Sam raised a brow, but she waved him off.
“It’s publicity.” Then she turned toward the crepe crowd, whistling so loud that nearly everyone’s heads turned. “Listen up, folks! If you want to spend some time at the Love Shack, head on over to the silent auction after you get your crepes. My friend Sam here and the rest of the Meadow Valley crew are auctioning off a weekend stay, passion-inducing bonfire included!”
Some people applauded. Others whistled their approval right back. And Sam watched with amazement as people began to scurry, plated crepes in hand, toward the auction tent.
Delaney spun back to face him, arms crossed and a self-satisfied grin on her face.
“You’re right,” he finally admitted.
She opened her mouth to say something but stopped before any words came out.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Did I render the great Delaney Harper speechless?”
He smiled, and his shoulders relaxed. He was ready to let go and finally enjoy the day.
“Did you say I was right, cowboy?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Because I think I need to hear that again.”
He laughed and pulled her to him. “You were right, Vegas.” Then he dipped her, planting a kiss on her lips that was worthy of a romance movie close-up. At least he hoped it was.
When he straightened and backed away, she stared at him wide-eyed, fingers pressed to her freshly kissed lips.
“See?” he said, setting her hat back on her strawberry-blond waves. “I can PDA with the best of them.”
Her cheeks were flushed. She smiled coyly and hooked a finger in his belt loop. “When was the last time you publicly displayed your affection, Mr. Callahan?”
He shrugged. “I think I kissed Tanya Hogan at her locker before trig my junior year.”
Delaney dropped her face into her hands and shook her head.
“Oh my goodness,” she said. “I had no idea how desperately you needed my help.”
“For what?” he asked, laughing.
“For opening up and living a little. I’m not saying you have to relegate yourself to outdoor sex and grandiose kissing gestures in front of an audience—though I wholeheartedly approve of both so long as there’s a sturdier table next time around—but maybe it’s okay to enjoy your life every now and then, no matter what the future holds.”
She pressed her lips together, eyes expectant as she waited for his reaction.
Enjoy his life.
He thought he’d been doing that. He’d resigned himself to his uncertain future, but he’d been happy enough with the ranch, his makeshift family, and the limits he’d placed on his personal life—until he met Delaney. Now his definition of enough was changing and growing, and he wished there was a way it could include her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, breaking the silence and pulling him out of his head. “I said I’d let it go for the week, and I didn’t let it go. It’s just that things are going so well. Your dad’s getting crepes, the ranch is getting excellent publicity, and you’re getting lucky pretty much for the rest of the week. If I asked a Magic 8 Ball if things were looking up for Sam Callahan, it would say, ‘Signs point to yes.’”
He’d snapped at her the last time she broached the subject. And he still maintained that most women he might bring into his life would have no clue what it was like to be in his position. But Delaney wasn’t most women. She was…Delaney. She knew about his situation and it hadn’t scared her away. Maybe there was more to this thing between them than just the rest of the week.
“You’re right again,” he said.
Her mouth fell open, and she blinked once. Twice.
“Speechless again, huh?” he asked. He squinted, looking over Delaney’s shoulder as a figure appeared, a four-legged companion trailing not too far behind.
“Hey, Dad,” he said as his father and Scout sidled up next to Delaney. He nodded toward his father’s chocolate-smeared plate that had only a few bites left of whatever crepe he’d ordered. “You didn’t give Scout any of that, did you? Because dogs can get seriously ill from chocolate.”
Nolan Callahan waved his son off with a chocolate-coated plastic fork. “I’ve got Alzheimer’s, but I’m not an idiot.”
Sam lost his footing and stumbled back a step. Should he laugh? Could he laugh? If and when he was in his father’s position, would he get to a point where he found humor in a very humorless situation?
He didn’t have the answer, or any words at all. He’d been rendered speechless now, and Delaney’s wide-eyed expression mirrored his own.
Nolan looked back and forth between his stunned son and an equally stunned Delaney. Then he burst into a fit of laughter.
When he regained his composure, he clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Lighten up, son. Someday I won’t know enough to make jokes about this. Hell, I might not be able to control my own body let alone my own thoughts. I gotta have a little fun while I can.”
“Hey, Pop.”
Sam glanced over his own shoulder to find his brother approaching.
His father’s expression went from jovial to something almost reverential. Sam saw his father on a regular basis, but ever since they mov
ed him into the assisted living facility, Ben had pulled back. If Delaney thought Sam brushed everything under the rug, it was only because she hadn’t gotten to know the master of avoidance—Ben Callahan.
“Ben,” Nolan said, and Sam heard a tremor in the older man’s voice. “Get the hell over here and give your old man a hug.”
Ben did as the man asked, but his body was stiff, his shoulders tight. Either their father didn’t notice or he didn’t care. He wrapped his younger son into the biggest of bear hugs despite his empty paper plate in one hand, his plastic fork in the other.
“Let me take that, Nolan,” Delaney said, grabbing their father’s trash and taking it to a nearby bin.
This allowed the man to clasp Ben’s shoulders, holding him an arm’s length away.
“God damn,” he said. “Look at you.”
Sam looked away. He didn’t begrudge his brother and father their moment. He knew Nolan’s reaction was because Ben rarely stepped foot inside the facility. But it still stung to see his brother get such a reception when Sam was the one who got the call when their father had an episode, and Sam was the one who was there each Monday for a game of Uno. Even though both brothers had the same terrifying future ahead of them, Ben pretended none of it existed, which only drove home the fact that Sam was in this thing alone.
Then Delaney stepped into view.
She was too good to them, this brood of three men who were about as scared and dysfunctional as they come. Seeing the way she fell so seamlessly into their rhythm made him want so many things he’d been able to push aside before now. Things like time—with his family, with the ranch, with her. It made him want to know if there was the slightest chance for a future with someone like her.
Holy shit. Had it taken a punch to the face to knock some sense into him?
He wanted to get tested. He wanted to know.
His eyes locked on Delaney as she made her way back from the trash bin.
She cocked her head to the side, and her brow furrowed.
“With your glasses back on, I can’t tell if you’re looking at me or not. If you are, I think you might be staring, so now I’m wondering if I have food on my face or something even though I haven’t gotten my crepe yet!”
She swiped at her nose and then rubbed her chin, and all Sam could do was laugh. He wanted to tell her. But this wasn’t the time or place. And he’d have to tell his brother. Whatever Ben decided was Ben’s choice. All Sam knew was that he had to take some sort of step to show her that even if he didn’t know what his future held, he could see her in it. Telling his brother and Colt about the possibility of giving up half their land was another story. If Delaney felt the same about him that he did about her, though, she’d want the best for the ranch, wouldn’t she? They’d work it out. But first he had to know that she wanted the same thing. Then everything else would fall into place.
“There’s nothing on your face, Vegas. Nothing but a beautiful smile I can’t look away from. That’s all.”
She blushed hard, from her neck all the way up to her cheeks.
“What’s gotten into you?” she asked.
Nothing. Everything. The tornado of thoughts rushing around his head was almost too much to take.
“You’re spending the night again, right?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’d like that.”
“I’ll tell you what’s gotten into me then.”
She still looked puzzled, but the answer seemed to satisfy her because she slid her hand into his and tugged him back toward Anna and Luis.
“Well then, Mr. Callahan, allow me to buy you a crepe.”
He strode toward the tent, his hand locked with hers, as a weight lifted from his shoulders, one he’d been carrying for years.
Signs point to yes.
Sam had never been a believer in signs, but it was hard to ignore the ones Delaney pointed out. Maybe things were starting to shift in a direction he hadn’t anticipated. And maybe, just maybe, that path led straight to her.
Chapter Sixteen
Delaney stretched out on the picnic blanket Sam had thrown in the bed of his truck. She was in a blissful food coma. No, scratch that. She was simply in sheer, utter bliss.
Something had shifted in Sam after Anna and Luis and the crepes—something good. And it had spilled over into the rest of what she could only describe as her most perfect day.
They’d eaten everything from crepes to butternut squash ravioli to grilled corn on the cob. She’d participated in—and won—an adult hula-hooping contest. She had soaked Sam’s T-shirt when they lost the water balloon toss, though she might have lobbed it with extra force on purpose, bursting into laughter when it exploded against his chest.
She’d thoroughly enjoyed how his shirt had clung to his torso for the short time it had been wet before the sun baked it dry. With all the food, playing games, mingling with Meadow Valley’s residents and visitors, and Sam by her side every step of the way, the day had been nothing short of perfect.
Sam had something to tell her tonight, and she was going to do the same. She wanted her animal shelter. And she wanted it here, in Meadow Valley. But she also wanted it with him in her life. The land thing didn’t have to be a deal breaker, did it? Especially not after they’d crossed some invisible boundary today.
Sam strode toward the blanket with Scout in tow.
“I told her that’s the last walk for the evening,” he said once he was within earshot. “She never has to go this much when we’re at the ranch. I think she’s overexcited.”
Delaney smiled and sat up. She crossed her legs, patting the spot on the blanket next to her. Scout scampered over and curled up, laying her head in Delaney’s lap.
“And here I thought you were saving that spot for me,” Sam said.
Delaney shrugged. “We girls have to stick together. I scratch her belly, and she falls asleep on my leg. It’s a win-win.”
Sam dropped down onto the blanket, lying back on his elbows. “What if I wanted to fall asleep on your leg?”
She laughed. “Ladies first. But you’ll get your turn a little later.”
His pinkie brushed against hers, and she shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
The temperature had dropped significantly, but she had her hoodie on. The goose bumps up and down her arms had nothing to do with the crisp night air and everything to do with Sam Callahan.
“A little,” she lied, scratching behind Scout’s ear. “It feels good, though.”
“I might have a jacket in the truck. I can grab it for you,” he told her, but she shook her head.
“No way.” She pointed up toward the clear night sky studded with constellations, scanning the landscape until she found Orion’s belt, the focal point of the meteor shower. “I don’t want you to miss it.” She turned her gaze back to Sam. “Wait, where’s your dad?”
“Don’t worry,” Sam said. “He’s with my brother grabbing some more food. They’ll be right back. I swear, either they’re not feeding him at the home, or he has a hollow leg. I’ve never seen the guy eat so much.”
Scout stretched and repositioned herself, her head no longer on Delaney’s leg. So Delaney seized the opportunity to crawl behind Sam and wrap her arms around his chest.
“Looks like later came a bit sooner,” she said. She carefully slid his sunglasses off his nose. “It’s not sunny anymore, and I want to see those puppy-dog brown eyes of yours.”
He nestled into her chest and looked up at her, dramatically batting his dark lashes. “Like what you see?”
“Very much so.” She kissed his forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay with all this? I know it brings up a lot of memories.”
He pulled her arms tighter around him. “I’m sure, Vegas.”
The look in his mischievous eyes grew serious. She waited, expecting some sort of explanation, but if one might have been coming, it was cut off by Ben and Nolan dropping down next to them, plates of honey-drizzled corn bread in both of their hands.
“Who wants a bite?” Ben asked.
“Speak for yourself,” Nolan said, guarding his plate. “I’m not sharing.”
They all laughed, and Delaney swore nothing other than being with her own immediate family had ever felt so right. She imagined bringing Beth here—despite her preference for the big city—and showing her how special it was. Meadow Valley was close enough that her parents could take weekend trips during the off-season. Other blankets with other families peppered the grassy hill, and she longed for all of it to last more than a week.
She gasped. “Look! It’s starting!”
“Would you look at that?” Nolan said, his voice cracking. “The Orionids.”
Ben nodded toward his brother, and Sam nodded back. Neither of them smiled, but they didn’t look sad either. Delaney hoped the silent communication had been one of understanding. Of contentment. Of possibly seeing their father in a new, more hopeful light.
Sam reached a hand behind him and placed it on the nape of her neck. “We did good today, Vegas,” he said. “We make a pretty good team.” He kissed her softly, and Delaney’s heart felt like it would burst right out of her chest. “Thank you.”
She beamed and drew in a shaky breath. “You’re welcome.”
Despite the chill in the air, warmth spread from where his lips had touched hers all the way to the tips of her toes. Sam Callahan wasn’t the reason she’d returned to Meadow Valley—but now he was the reason she wanted to stay. Experiencing this festival, watching him connect with his father and brother, caring for someone who cared for her—it was everything she’d hoped to find when she came here the first time around. She’d just come here with the wrong person.
“I don’t want us to end,” she whispered, but her admission was drowned out by Nolan whooping and clapping when another flash of light streaked across the sky.
Maybe they didn’t have to—end, that was. Sam might have an emotional hurdle or two to overcome before letting her into his life completely, but there was one obstacle she could remove—the land.