Snowbound Snuggles

by T. F. Walsh

  After he’d showered, shaved, and sucked down a scalding cup of coffee, Sam went in search of his girls. Yeah, they were his now and it was time to figure out a way to keep Wynter in his life.

  His SUV was still in the barn so they couldn’t have gone far. He’d seen the stroller, still folded, and leaning against the wall by the back door. It appeared that Riley had a couple of guests. Well, his buddy was about to get one more.

  “Lucy, I’m home!” Sam let himself into Riley’s kitchen.

  “Go away, I have a date.” Riley’s voice came from somewhere in the front of the house.

  Sam listened for Wynter’s responding laugh, a comment, anything. Where was she? He stalked down the hall, finding his friend in the living room, a biography on Abraham Lincoln open in his lap, and Charlotte nestled in the crook of his arm.

  “Where’s Wyn?”

  “You thought she was who I was talking about when I said date, huh?” Riley’s wolfish grin grew huge. “You were jealous.” His laughter grated on Sam’s nerves.

  “Shut up. Where is she?”

  “Finally taking back what is yours, huh? Good for you, man.” Riley nodded his head toward the hallway. “She went down in the basement. Said she has a surprise for me. Lots of racket. I have no idea.” Riley shook his head.

  As if on cue, a table saw whined loud enough to reach their ears. What the hell? Sam scrunched his nose and sent Riley a confused look. The other man shrugged his shoulders.

  “I told you. Big racket. Been at it all morning. Tell her she better plan on cleaning up after herself. It’s not like I have a way of getting down to that basement any time in the near future.”

  “I’ll see what’s going on. You good here?”

  “Yeah. My date lets me do all the talking. I think this one’s a keeper.” Riley kissed the top of Charlotte’s downy head. “Go get her, Romeo.”

  Sam strode for the stairs to the basement, his heart racing with worry that Wynter was taking on something far too dangerous for her to handle.

  The buzzing of the saw cut off before he reached the bottom of the stairs. He steeled himself for a fight with the most stubborn woman he’d ever met. Rounding the corner, he opened his mouth to tell her exactly how crazy he thought she was to be messing with power tools, and let it hang. There might have been drool involved.

  “Hey, I see you’re out of your cave. No telling Riley what I’m up to, you hear?”

  Nope. He wouldn’t say a word. Mostly because all his blood had rushed to regions south. He’d lost all feeling in the upper half of his body, while the lower half was uncomfortably . . . stiff.

  She stood behind a table saw, safety glasses covering her eyes. His old blue plaid flannel, barely covering a tiny white tank top, was tied in a knot at her waist. Sam looked her up and down, licking his lips as his imagination went into overdrive. She needed a tool belt. Yes. And work boots. Oh, and cut-off jeans.

  “Yoo-hoo? Earth to Sam. You in there?” She’d lifted the glasses to the top of her head and set her hands on her hips.

  “You’ve picked up some interesting new skills since high school.” Sam worked his tongue around the inside of his mouth. His words felt slurred, his head definitely fuzzy.

  “Who knew, right?” She hefted a stack of boards, cut to size, to the workbench against the wall. “Turns out I can DIY like a pro. Guess all those home improvement shows I’ve been watching have paid off.” She winked as she picked up a drill and Sam had to bite back a moan.

  “So what’s the project?” He managed to squeeze out the question.

  “Riley’s got all those books and no place to store them. I’m putting some built-in shelving on either side of the big picture window in the living room. It all has to be waist-level, so I may just wrap it around the whole room.”

  “He’s a lucky guy.” Sam’s sentiment was genuine.

  “Jealous?” She flipped the safety glasses into place with a grin and gave the drill a brief whir.

  Sam’s feet were moving before he realized his intent. He grabbed the drill from Wynter’s hand and set it on the bench. Slowly, he lifted the heavy plastic from her eyes, smiling with satisfaction when he realized her hooded gaze surely matched his own. He backed her up against the workbench, their bodies fitting together like a jigsaw puzzle. Just imagine what it would be like without clothing?

  “Nah. Not jealous. It’s just the two of us down here, and Riley can’t make it down the stairs.”

  Knowing she was about to scold him for his unkind words, Sam captured her lips before she could speak. He could smell her lavender body wash. He tasted her peppermint chewing gum, stealing it out of her mouth with a swipe of his tongue. Her throaty chuckle had him straining to get closer still.

  Never breaking their kiss, he swept Wynter up in his arms. She wrapped her legs around him. Yes. Just like that. Sam didn’t even have to tell her what he liked.

  He broke the kiss so that he could explore more of her, taste her sweet skin. Drawing her earlobe into his mouth, he sucked harder when her breathy sigh turned into a soft mewling. Their bodies were so close but he needed to be closer still. His hand was at the snap on her jeans when he realized what he was doing.

  He’d waited this long, for this amazing woman. He’d saved himself for her. He knew that now. His first sexual experience was supposed to be with Wynter. But not like this. He wouldn’t take her in someone else’s dank basement. This was not the memory he wanted to create for his first time.

  “I want you.” He rested his forehead against her shoulder, taking long shuddering breaths and willing his body to calm down.

  “I want you, too.” Her fingers found him through the rough fabric of his jeans and it took everything he had to reach down and curl his hand around hers.

  “But not like this, Wyn. You deserve better than this.”

  “It’s okay.” His body cheered as she tried to convince him with her words, and her actions, that they should continue.

  “We deserve better than this.” He couldn’t even believe his brain was still functioning at this point.

  Wynter unhooked her heels from behind him, lifting his head to place a soft kiss on his mouth. She held his face between her hands as she studied him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes overly bright. In her expression he read frustration and a promise that they would pick up where they’d left off. But she wasn’t angry.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he loved her. But he didn’t want to scare her. For all he knew, her interest in him was purely physical. At least this way, by keeping silent, he wouldn’t have to find out. It was his heart’s way of protecting itself, should his plans for the future not come to fruition.

  Chapter 15

  “You didn’t have to come all this way with me. I would have been good, just borrowing your truck.”

  Wynter set the baby, in her car seat, on the floor beside her chair and sat down. Sam perused the stack of magazines on the side table, selected one and laid it in her lap, before claiming the seat beside her. This was just too . . . comfortable. Her head screamed that it was high time she start thinking and acting independently. She was a single mom, after all. Her heart told her to grab onto Sam and not let go.

  “You’re welcome.” He patted her knee. Oh, honestly!

  “Wynter Grayson?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind watching . . . ? ” Wynter’s voice trailed off as Sam stood, lifting the baby carrier, and headed for the smiling nurse. Alright then.

  “So, I hear you thought you were too good for our little hospital? Decided to do things all on your own?” The nurse grinned. “Usually happens around here once or twice every winter. Moms think they have enough time and then Mother Nature throws a curve ball at ’em.”

  “It wasn’t as scary as I expected it to be,” Wynter admitted.

  “Ah, then you had a good man there helping you.” The nurse winked at Sam, who ducked his head shyly.

  She left them alone so Wynter could slip into the rough, pap
er gown. Sam turned his back to give her privacy, focusing instead on Charlotte, who had chosen that moment to wake up from her morning nap. After yesterday’s heated interlude, Wynter was more than a little disappointed that he didn’t even try to catch a peek. And now she was disgusted with herself for bothering to care.

  The doctor bustled in after a brief tap at the door. She headed straight for the baby, cooing and clucking and marveling at how alert she was. With a wistful sigh and a hand on her chest, she turned to address Wynter.

  “You done good, Mama. How are you feeling?”

  “A little tired.”

  “Any more bleeding?”

  Wynter blushed, blurting out, “No, that stopped a few weeks ago.”

  “I don’t have to ask if your milk supply is doing well. Those chubby cheeks tell me she’s getting plenty to eat.” The woman threw a grin over her shoulder at the baby.

  She had Wynter slide to the edge of the table for her exam. Sam had moved the one chair in the room to the opposite corner. This time Wynter was grateful he couldn’t see. She glanced over to find him watching her, smiling. Okay, she was happy that he’d come to the appointment.

  “You’re healing up just fine. You’ve gotten past the first six weeks, so you can resume sexual activity. Would you like me to write a prescription for some birth control?”

  “Oh, we’re not . . . I don’t need . . . ” Wynter was mortified.

  “I understand. Some couples have difficulty being intimate again after childbirth. Especially given your circumstances, where your husband delivered the baby.”

  “He’s not my husband,” she said, miserably.

  “No one is judging.”

  Wynter threw a look at Sam, her eyes pleading for him to rescue her.

  “She’ll take the prescription, Doctor.”

  Damn him.

  The ride home was quiet. Wynter squirmed in her seat, so many emotions vying for top billing that her head swam. Excitement over the possibility of sex with Sam had her body throbbing. Guilt over the fact that she’d never felt this giddy with Holt was like a lead weight, dragging her down. Hope for a future with a man she was beginning to realize she couldn’t live without sang in her veins. And just to balance things out evenly, dread wrapped a heavy blanket around the whole package, reminding her that in order to achieve her dream of moving back to Scallop Shores, she’d have to leave Sam behind.

  “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, put you on the spot.” He’d pulled into the driveway, shut off the car and turned to face her.

  She didn’t want to do this now. Sitting in the enclosed space, she felt vulnerable, nervous.

  “I’m fine.” The words came out on a shaky squeak. Good Lord.

  “Look, all I meant was that it would be smart to fill the prescription.” He paused, not speaking again until Wynter met his gaze. “We both know it’s going to happen. Some day.”

  She licked her lips, her mouth like dust. She nodded.

  “Yeah, some day.”

  Sam chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through the truck’s cab. Her body quivered in response. He thought this was funny? He was making light of her sudden bout of nerves?

  He must have seen the storm clouds gathering in her expression, the scowl pulling her eyebrows down. He held his hands out in front of him, shaking his head.

  “Hey, don’t misunderstand me. It’s just that I have a much bigger reason for being terrified about all this.”

  “What could you have to be terrified about?” She scoffed. “You’re a guy. Guys think about sex . . . What’s the statistic?” Wynter waved her hand flippantly.

  “Let’s just say I have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Oh. Of course. I get it. It’s been a while for you.” She blushed, realizing what he was getting at. “You were a hermit before I forced myself back into your life.”

  Sam faced the windshield, stretching his legs out as much as he could beneath the steering wheel. Wynter studied his profile, his jaw tight, like he was grinding his back teeth. His eyes were closed.

  “It’s okay. We don’t have to do this right now. Let’s just go inside—” She put her hand out to open the door and let out a little squeal when Sam reached for her knee to stop her.

  “No. You need to hear this. It might . . . change things. You might decide you don’t want this anymore.”

  Her heart began to thud painfully. Where was he going with this? Was he going to tell her about some venereal disease? Did he have some kinky fetish? Was it hot in here? She felt the walls of the truck closing in on her and couldn’t draw a full breath of air into her lungs.

  “I don’t know what you’re imagining, Wyn, but it’s not like that.” His smile was crooked, but it was there.

  “Just spit it out. You’re killing me here!”

  “I just wanted to warn you that I’m not the most experienced guy around.” He chewed on his lower lip, his attention focused on the hand that still gripped her knee.

  She lifted his hand, taking it with both of her own. She brushed a thumb over the tiny hairs across his knuckles. Turning in her seat, she waited until he met her eyes. He looked so troubled. He wanted her approval.

  “Sam. It’s not like I have much to compare you to. I’ve only ever been with Holt.” She paused. “I guess I just assumed you knew that.”

  “Well, that’s one more person than I’ve been with.” He tried to tug his hand free and she could see him retreating inside, the shame he must have felt a living, pulsing force.

  “You’re a virgin.” She said it very matter-of-fact. “Is that all? Gosh, Sam, I’ve got to tell you, with that build up, I was afraid you were going to reveal some freaky secret that I wanted no part of.”

  “I’m a thirty-year-old virgin. That doesn’t disgust you?” Again he tried to remove his hand. She placed it on her lap, wrapping the palm around her thigh and holding it there.

  “With this solitary existence you’ve taken up, punishing yourself by living out in the boonies, it’s no wonder.” She stopped, blinked. “And if it’s because you were saving yourself for marriage, for the right person, well, that’s commendable. There are so few men like that in the world today.”

  He didn’t say anything, just kept looking between their hands on her thigh and her face. Then it dawned on her. She was the right person. He had chosen her to give his virginity to. Wow. This had suddenly become a much bigger deal. It was no longer about casual sex, it was about making love. The stakes were higher.

  She realized now that they couldn’t just share a bed for the brief time they had together before she moved to Scallop Shores. He might think he was ready for an encounter like that. But Sam was a different kind of man. Sam was a man with morals, and principles that were old-fashioned and . . . refreshing.

  “I can’t tell what you’re thinking right now. It’s freaking me out.” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

  “I’m thinking we should take our time. Make sure we’re ready for this.”

  He muttered an expletive under his breath, turning his head to stare out the driver’s side window.

  “I knew you’d be disappointed.”

  “Samuel Dennis, where on Earth did you get that idea? I still want you, you stubborn lug!” He refused to look at her. “But I want this to be special for you. I want to do this right. You only get one first time.”

  “I don’t deserve you.” He’d turned his head and was smiling sadly at her.

  Would things have been different if Sam had stayed? If the three of them had gone on to college together? She hadn’t thought of him like that, back in high school, but her need of him had gone beyond casual friendship. She felt his loss so deeply that it had affected nearly every decision she had made regarding her future. Could she have loved him back then and not realized it?

  And why did her head choose this moment to bring these thoughts to the forefront? She needed some time alone to sort it all out.

  An all-too-familiar trumpeting soun
ded from the backseat, followed by an unpleasant odor. Saved by the poo! Wynter scrambled from the cab of the truck at the same time Sam flung open his own door. As they were both embarrassed, she mostly felt relieved when he quickly disappeared from view. Not the best way to wrap up such a highly charged conversation, but it provided them both the escape they needed. She reached into the backseat and hauled out her stinky daughter.

  • • •

  Morals sucked. He’d waited his whole adult life to share the most intimate of moments with someone he deemed worthy of the wait. That it happened to be the same person he had pictured as an idealistic teenager still shocked him. He knew Wynter was the one for him. He knew he’d never love anyone else the way he loved her. But he did not know if she felt the same way.

  Sam cracked another stick across his knee and tossed the pieces in the yard waste bin. The warmth of the bright sunshine was negated by the chill wind that blew through the back yard. In like a lion . . . He put his back into the labor in an effort to stay warm.

  So did he say ‘screw it’ and share what little time they might have left memorizing every detail of their developing relationship? Would that make it worse when the time came to say goodbye? Or, and this was the option that made him feel like a jerk, did he convince her to give up her dreams of raising Charlotte in Scallop Shores to stay with him in Braeden, or somewhere they chose together?

  Sam wished like hell that he could go with her. Things were good between them, really good, and if he agreed to go back to Maine, they stood a chance of making it. But the town, those memories, he was scared it would drive him insane. Every time he drove by his old house, every time he saw an ambulance, he’d remember the dread upon hearing those sirens from the quiet safety of Wynter’s bedroom. He couldn’t save his parents and, God help him, he still believed he should have died with them that night.

  He attacked the flowerbeds with a vengeance, raking the dead leaves away from the daffodils more roughly than was necessary. Wynter was over at Riley’s, working on the built-ins that she was going to surprise him with. Wynter and power tools. Sam groaned, his jeans feeling a tad too tight. Yeah, teenage Sam had much tamer fantasies about the girl next door. Teenage Sam wouldn’t have known what to do with a woman like Wynter.