by Justine Dell
Lance chuckled, then turned his attention to Samantha. “Going somewhere?”
She shifted her weight anxiously. “Um…no. It’s just—”
“Calm down.” He closed the distance between them and took her hand. “You look like a hunted rabbit. It’s okay. Relax.” His lips brushed across hers.
“I’m sorry. We didn’t talk about this, so I wasn’t sure how you wanted to handle it. I didn’t want Jax to get the wrong idea.”
“Don’t worry about Jax. He likes you. And he’s young, so he doesn’t understand the rest. You being here at night, with me, was like a sleepover. I would like for you to do it more often.”
For an instant, her heart jumped at the idea. Then she sighed. “One day at a time, Lance.”
He kissed her softly. “One day at a time,” he repeated. “But remember, you can’t hide from me. Don’t run from me.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.” He tugged her toward the kitchen. “Let me show off my mad chef skills.”
“Ha, I can’t wait to see that.”
“Oh, be prepared to be surprised. Candice isn’t the only one in the family who can cook.”
She nuzzled her face against his arm. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Samantha made her way home after breakfast, feeling better. She was ashamed for trying to leave. She should’ve trusted her feelings more, and trusted Lance. He wouldn’t have put her in an awkward position like that. She made a mental note to remember in the future.
Her phone rang as she walked in the door. She dropped her purse, laid the picture Jax had drawn her after breakfast on the table, and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Deadline’s ticking, Samantha. What have you got for me?”
Samantha groaned inwardly—it was Matt, her agent. “I’m working on it.”
“You mean you’re not finished?”
“No.”
“What have you been doing this past week?”
Her temper spiked. “Did you forget why I came to Vermont?”
“No, I’m sorry. It’s just the publisher has been calling me every day making sure you were going to meet your deadline. At least I haven’t been calling you every day.”
She took a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry, too. It’s been crazy up here. I’m working on it. I promise.”
“Good to hear. You’ve got a week and a half. I’ll check back in a few days. I know it’s stressful, but I’m urging you to do your best. Finish it.”
“I will,” she replied quietly.
She clicked the phone off and sank into the chair, falling from cloud nine with a deafening crash. She wanted to finish her book, but just needed to figure out how.
Creativity had come easily right after Jenny left. Samantha didn’t know why, but it just came. Now it was gone again. Maybe a phone call to her best friend would conjure up some inspiration.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jenny, it’s Samantha.”
“Oh my gosh! Samantha, I’ve been thinking about you. I realize I only left a couple of days ago, but I can’t stop thinking about how you’re doing. How’s your grandmother? How’s Lance? How’s everything?”
“Whoa. Take a breath.”
“Oh, sorry. It’s just…I’ve been worried about you.”
“Worried?”
“Yeah, well—you’d made so much progress when I left, and I was curious how you were holding up.”
Samantha blew out a loud breath. “Well, a lot has happened in the last few days.”
“Tell me everything.”
Samantha folded her legs beneath her and spilled her guts.
“You love him, don’t you?” Jenny asked.
Samantha smiled. “Yes.”
“Why haven’t you told him?”
“Because I’m not ready for that. I’m certain he’s not ready for that. I mean, he’s got a kid. A life here in Vermont. I’ll be going back to New York soon. I told him I’d give him a chance, and I am, but I can’t take it farther than that. I highly doubt he expected this.” She waved her hand absently in the air.
“Well, I hate to be frank, but this is exactly what happens when two consenting adults have a relationship. One of you is bound to fall.”
“That’s the problem. He hasn’t.”
“How do you know? I mean, maybe he was thinking the chance would turn into something like this. Isn’t that what chances do?”
Samantha rolled her eyes. Jenny was right as always. “True. But he hasn’t said he loves me. I need him to say it. I don’t want to be first in case I’m wrong.”
“If he did, would you stay?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. I didn’t expect this. I didn’t want this. And I don’t want another failed relationship. I couldn’t handle it. Dealing with Ryan was hard enough.” Samantha curled into a ball. “I’m still dealing with it. He’s called a few more times. My attorney has, too.”
“What does he want?”
“Well, since the divorce is final, I’m guessing he’s decided he wants more money. He won’t get it. I haven’t returned his calls or the ones from my attorney. I’ll deal with that mess later. If ever.” Samantha shook her head to clear away the painful memories. “Right now, I figure I’ll enjoy the time I have here now, because I have to come home soon.”
“And forget about Lance? That doesn’t sound like a good plan.”
She sighed. “I never said I was smart. After all, I can’t give Lance what he needs—even if he asked for it. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him but now that I have, I’ll have to deal with it when I leave.”
“Will you be able to?”
She curled herself tighter. “I’ll have to. There’s no other way around it. You know what they say about lying in the bed you made…or something like that.”
Jenny laughed. “Yeah, something like that. I just wish you’d give yourself more credit. I think you could have something good with Lance. You’ve just gotta—”
“No.” Samantha drew her bottom lip into her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I knew going into this relationship with Lance, I wouldn’t be able to take it that extra step if needed. I guess I set myself up for failure.”
“Hey, don’t say that. I know you, Samantha. You’ll figure everything out in time.”
Time. That was something Samantha didn’t have. In one and a half weeks her book would have to be done, Gram would be home, and she would be on her way back to New York. Then reality would set in. Until then, Samantha would rather live in her fairy tale.
“Yes, I will. Don’t worry about me, Jenny. Anyway, I called for another reason, too. After you left, I got inspired and started writing. It was only for that one day, though. When Lance and I…”
“Got together?”
“Yeah…everything stopped.”
“Why?”
“That’s why I was calling you. I was hoping you could help me figure it out.”
A brief silence hummed on the line. “Honey, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know what your book is about. I’m not a writer, so I don’t know how that process works. I wish I could help you.”
“That’s okay. I was just hoping…well, I don’t know what I was looking for when I called you. But I do feel better. Thanks for talking with me.”
“How is Gram?”
“She’ll be fine.” Samantha told her the wonderful news. “It’s me I’m worried about.”
“Need me to come up again?”
Having a friend like Jenny was better than eating ice cream sundaes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She was always ready, willing, and able to help.
“No,” Samantha replied. “I’ve got to work this out for myself.”
“Good luck. I’ll be thinking about you. Call if you need anything.”
“I will. Thanks, Jenny. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything. That’s what friends are for.”
Samantha fought the te
ar that threatened to fall down her cheek. She really owed Jenny more than she would ever know.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Experience is the extract of suffering.”
~Arthur Helps
SAMANTHA TOOK HER CHANCE with Lance one day at a time, savoring the peaceful feelings and not worrying about what would come when she needed to leave. She didn’t care and it felt wonderful. Days went by, and she slipped into the perfect routine.
Spending time at the antique store: Check.
Therapy lessons with Gram: Check.
Working on her book: Well, she was still trying to find the groove for that one.
Spending every spare moment with Lance and Jax: Double check.
Getting the foggy-but-elated feeling out of her brain: Okay, she needed to work on that.
But the days were paradise. Perfect, harmonious, and hopefully endless bliss.
Tonight she was making dinner for Lance and Jax, and Samantha hustled around the kitchen, preparing chicken linguini with lime sauce.
The kitchen remodel was almost finished, which made it easier to cook. Samantha was amazed at how fast Lance made progress. She’d watched him quite a bit the past several days when she was supposed to be working on her novel, but she couldn’t help but stare at the devilishly good-looking man sweating and working hard. He distracted her to say the least, but she’d repaid the favor and distracted him several times as well. He’d enjoyed it.
She chopped the herbs and threw them into the saucepan with the chicken. She checked to see if the water was boiling before wiping the counter down once, then a second time. She hated the fact she couldn’t completely control her urges to clean, but she was getting better. Checking her watch, Samantha saw that it was almost six.
Without a moment to spare, she dropped the noodles in the boiling water, squeezed the lime onto the chicken, and removed it from the stove. She set the table and took off her apron right before the doorbell rang.
She opened the door and both boys aimed bright smiles in her direction. Jax held out a small bouquet of yellow roses.
“For me?”
His smile brightened as he nodded.
“Well, thank you. Let me put these in some water.” She ushered them in and scooped the flowers out of Jax’s hands. She bent and gave him a warm kiss on the top of his head. “They’re beautiful.”
“Dad says girls like flowers.”
She spared a glance at Lance. “Your daddy’s a smart man.” This time when she said it, she meant it. “Make yourselves at home. Dinner’s almost done,” she said.
“Smells wonderful,” Lance said. He leaned in and gave Samantha a kiss on her cheek. “And might I say the hostess smells wonderful as well.”
Her face went hot along with every other part of her body. “Would you like a drink?”
“Kool-Aid!” Jax said.
“I’ve got some of that,” Samantha replied as she tweaked Jax’s nose. “Made it just for you.”
“One glass,” Lance said. “He gets worked up with too much sugar.”
Her lips curved into a smile. Lance was a good, doting dad. Another timer went off in the kitchen. “It looks like it’s time to eat. I hope you brought your appetites.”
“I’m starved,” Jax said as he ran toward the kitchen.
“Jax doesn’t do anything without his appetite,” Lance said playfully, taking Samantha’s hand into his own. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”
She blushed again. It was so easy for him, and that’s what made it so easy for her. “You look handsome yourself. How about you? Did you bring your appetite?”
Lance gave her a wicked grin. “Oh, I’ve got an appetite all right, but I don’t think your dinner will sate it.”
A tingle erupted at the base of her spine when he kissed her lips. Warm. Drugging. Perfect.
“Um…” Now, what was she going to say? Elves had scrambled her brain again.
“Dinner?” Lance asked playfully.
“Oh…yes, dinner. Let’s go eat.”
Samantha couldn’t have asked for a better meal. They all sat around the table. It felt like family, and even though she still thought of Ava and missed her terribly, eating dinner at the table didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it used to. It gave her hope and lifted yet another weight from her chest.
Jax did most of the talking, telling them about his adventures. Every once in a while her gaze would wander to Lance, who was either beaming at Jax or admiring her. Both actions melted her heart.
“I didn’t get the chance to see Dorothy today. How is she?” Lance asked as he helped Samantha clear the table.
“She’s wonderful. The doctor said she’d be able to come home in a few days.”
“That’s great news. And you? How are you doing?”
Samantha stopped cleaning up and looked at Lance with a questioning expression. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Just checking. The kitchen will be done in a few days. Sorry you had to cook dinner in this mess.”
“Oh, it wasn’t too bad, really. I made it work.”
“Obviously.” He patted his stomach. “Dinner was delicious. Thank you.”
Her smile came effortlessly. “You’re welcome.”
He snatched her arm and tugged her to him; when he nibbled her bottom lip, she damn near fell to the floor. His touch alone made her crumble, but his lips were in a league of their own. “Now about dessert,” he whispered against her lips.
“Oh.” She eased away from him. She didn’t want move away from his heat or his touch, but Jax was just in the next room. “I didn’t make any. Sorry.” He played with a lock of her hair; she’d left it down for him, knowing how much he liked it when it wasn’t constricted in a ponytail.
“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I wasn’t talking about that kind. But now that you mention it, we could go out for ice cream.”
“Oh, I’ve got it! Gram and I used to make these wonderful cookies. I’d love to make them with Jax. Would he like that?”
His hand stilled in her hair. His expression looked surprised. “I’m sure he’d like that. I’ll go get him.” He smoothed her hair one last time before walking out of the kitchen.
Jax had made the cookies before—with Gram, no less. The famous chocolate chip ones with M&M’s. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Samantha knew Jax and Lance had spent a great deal of time with Gram.
With the kitchen an official train wreck, over a dozen cookies cooling on the make shift counter, and Jax sitting on the table, licking the empty bowl, Samantha couldn’t have been happier.
Lance came up behind her and brushed his lips over her ear. “It’s getting late. I really hate to leave, but I’ve got an early job in the morning.”
“All right. Don’t worry about the cleanup. I’m a pro in that area.”
“I know; I’ve seen the antique shop.” Lance flashed another heart-melting smile. “Jax, grab your dinosaurs and head to the truck. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay. Thanks for dinner, Samantha, and the cookies!” Jax gave Samantha a quick hug and darted into the living room. With T-Rexes in hand, he made his way out the door.
“He’s a wonderful boy, Lance,” Samantha said as she continued cleaning up.
Lance came up behind her and pressed her into the counter. “He is. Takes after me.” He kissed her neck.
“Yes,” she breathed, trying to keep her legs from buckling beneath her.
“I’m really disappointed I didn’t get my dessert.” He nipped her flesh. “Another time?”
“Anytime.”
He spun her around and kissed her deeply. Thoroughly. Just the way she liked it.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, drawing away. She was numb from that one kiss and aching for more. “Jax wants to go to the park again. Are you up for it?”
“Sure, when?”
“I thought maybe tomorrow I could meet you in town after I’m finished up with work. How’s t
hat?”
“Perfect. I’ll be at the shop until five or so. Stop by when you’re done and we can leave straight from there.”
“Dinner?”
“Of course.”
His eyes dropped to her mouth. “Dessert?”
She smirked. “Maybe.”
“Not maybe…anytime, remember?”
She sighed as he walked out the door with a container of warm cookies in tow. If she didn’t leave Vermont soon, she was going to be in over her head. She pressed a hand to her warm cheek. Forget going to be. She already was.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Things don’t go wrong and break your heart
so you can become bitter and give up.
They happen to break you down and build you up
so you can be all that you were intended to be.”
~Samuel Johnson
SAMANTHA SAT IDLY BEHIND THE DESK, shifting through the store’s paperwork. She’d ordered some organizers and a few things that would help Gram keep everything in tip-top shape when the store re-opened. Gram was progressing at warp speed, and she would be home and taking her shop back in days. Samantha leaned back and smiled. Everything was coming together.
When Lance walked in with a wicked gleam in his eye, her grin widened.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“Everything’s better than all right.” She rose and maneuvered herself around the desk, snaking her arms over his shoulders. His wound around her back. She kissed him, drawing him close and enjoying his musky scent.
“Wow,” he stammered, drawing back. “That’s quite a welcome.” He loosened his grip and reached behind him. The unmistakable click of the door lock made Samantha tense with excitement. He nuzzled her neck as his hands closed around her waist. “I think we need some privacy.”
“Hmm…I’m working.” She took his bottom lip into her mouth and suckled it gently, laughing when he groaned and lost his balance.
“Work can wait,” he said hoarsely. His back hit the wall, and his grip tightened. “I want my dessert.”
“Oh, dessert sounds good.” She flattened herself against him, swept her tongue in his mouth, and reached for the belt on his jeans. He growled and yanked off her shirt. With one flick, her bra was undone and dropped to the floor. She tugged at his zipper and fought with the snap on his jeans.