by T. F. Walsh
She looked down at him, her head twitching in a slight back and forth motion, embarrassment etched into her features. It took Sam’s passion-filled brain a moment to process this response. And then he too was embarrassed. He tried to look away but Wynter cupped his head in her hands and pulled him back up, until they were face to face again. She laid a kiss on him that brought him right back to that spot where he couldn’t remember his own name.
Within moments they were entwined, skin on skin. The contrast, his rough and coarse, to her silken and soft, was mind blowing. Sam could go on touching this gorgeous woman forever. But when her bold hand reached down to stroke him, he knew there were more intimate treasures to explore. She rolled to her back, invitation clearly written into the gesture, as her questing fingers never let go of their prize.
This was it. Just seconds before, Sam’s lungs were working like bellows, his breath coming hard and fast. Now, as he looked down at the woman he knew he never wanted to live without, stars danced in front of his eyes from lack of oxygen.
“Breathe, baby,” she coaxed.
And he did. His brief moment of overwhelming fear dissipated as quickly as it had come on. Bracing on his arms, Sam rose above Wynter. Their eyes locked. He poured his feelings into that one look, his love, his trust, his vulnerability. He gave her everything.
“I love you, Sam.”
On those words he joined with her, experiencing the headiest rush he’d ever felt in his life. This was what he’d been waiting for. And it was more than worth the wait. This was where he belonged, where he was meant to be. Cushioned in warmth, surrounded by the intoxicating aroma of vanilla and Wynter, encouraged by the symphony of her cooing, moans, and soft sighs, Sam felt himself racing toward a pinnacle he wasn’t ready to reach. If he could freeze any moment in time, this would be the one.
This first time together came to a peak, and they were both replete, chests rising and falling in tandem as they fought to catch their breath. Wynter’s head rested on his shoulder, her spiky hair tickling him under the chin. She’d thrown a leg over his and curled an arm across his body. She hummed softly in his ear, a sound of pure contentment.
Drowsy, Sam fought to stay awake. He knew men got a bad rap for not holding up their end of things, be it post-coital conversation or cuddling, and he didn’t want to start out being like ‘those men.’ Then he realized that humming he’d recently found so adorable had turned into an even more charming snore. She’d fallen asleep before him!
So much for the requisite, ‘Was it good for you?’ conversation. Darned if he didn’t feel just a bit disappointed. Grinning at the direction of his thoughts, Sam chuckled to himself, resolving to use the opportunity to tease Wyn just a little bit, come morning.
He knew they only had an hour or so to nap before Charlotte woke for her next feeding. Shaking off the drowsiness in order to keep his girls safe, Sam got up and blew out all the candles before climbing back into bed. He hauled Wynter across his chest and wrapped his arms around her, holding tight. As he drifted off to sleep, he thanked God for giving him a second chance with the woman of his dreams.
Chapter 17
This was it. She’d stained the built-ins a few days ago, and with Sam’s help got them all upstairs. Now all that was left was to load the new shelves with Riley’s vast collection of books. And hope her estimates were correct and there was enough room for everything—with room to grow. It had not escaped her notice that Riley had received five new shipments from eBay since she had started her cataloging project a few months ago.
It had been so much fun that she almost felt bad about taking her new friend’s money. But she couldn’t lose sight of her goals at this point. She had socked away every nickel. Yeah, the built-ins had been a freebie. Unbelievably, Riley had been sitting on the materials all along. Sam had chipped in for the wood stain. The labor had been pure love.
Wynter looked over her hard work, nodding and smiling. Now this was an addiction she could get behind. Collecting books. Wistfully, she ran a hand over the deep cherry finish, imagining a custom set of built-ins for her own house. Someday.
“When are you going to learn to read, Miss Princess?” She looked down at her daughter, strapped into her bouncy seat and kicking for all she was worth.
The kid was off to a good start that was for sure. Just last night, Wynter had walked in to find Sam seated in her rocking chair, Charlotte cradled in one arm and a dog-eared copy of The Hobbit in his other hand. She’d leaned against the doorframe and was soon lost somewhere in Middle Earth. Sam’s voice rumbled deep when he spoke for Thorin, king of the dwarves. He pitched it higher, almost child-like, when in the role of Bilbo the hobbit. She could have listened to him read forever.
“Sam sure spoils you, doesn’t he, Sweetness?” Wynter crooned.
“’Course he does. He loves her.” She whirled around, a hand fluttering up to her throat.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that,” she snapped. Her heart was racing to catch up with the beats it had lost when it had jumped out of her chest.
“Why not? It’s fun.” Riley flashed her a cheeky grin and a wink. She rolled her eyes. Heaven help the woman that ever saddled herself with this one!
The motor on his chair whirred to life as he wheeled into the room. A drawn out whistle was Riley’s only comment as he inspected the empty shelving. Wynter watched him test the heights and smiled with him when he realized he’d have no problem reaching any of them.
“Marry me, Wyn.” He placed a hand over his heart and batted his eyelashes.
“I beg your pardon?” She scoffed off the attention, settling herself on the floor in front of the baby.
“Unless Sam’s beat me to the punch?” He let the question hang, clearly hoping for some juicy tidbit of information.
“You’re incorrigible. You know that, right?”
“Only a matter of time, really. I mean the guy has loved you since the dawn of time.” Riley had drawn up beside the bouncy seat, forcing Wynter to look up in order to converse with him.
“He . . . We’re . . . Things are good, but . . . I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” For reasons she couldn’t understand, Wynter felt a prick of guilt.
“Surely he’s told you that he had a thing for you in high school, right?” She narrowed her eyes and waited for him to continue. “He was going to tell you the night his parents died. It was why he’d snuck over to see you.”
She knew she should be embarrassed that Sam had discussed this with Riley, but who else did he have, really? Getting up, she paced to the window at the other end of the room. She could just make out Sam’s old farmhouse across the road.
“No, he never told me that. He was nervous. I guess I just thought it had to do with college and graduating, the whole ‘now we’re grown ups’ thing.” She gripped the edge of the windowsill, staring out at the forsythia in the corner of the yard, the buds open just enough to reveal a peek of yellow.
For the hundredth time since she’d descended on Braeden, Wynter wondered what might have been. She was becoming more and more convinced that if Sam had joined them at UCLA, as planned, things between them would have developed sooner. Her marriage to Holt would never have happened. She wouldn’t have settled for less than true love.
When they were growing up, Sam had always encouraged her to dream big. They’d talk for hours about what they wanted out of life. He knew her love of books and her love of her hometown, and what the perfect marriage of those two passions would be like. He knew exactly how much she wanted to run that bookstore once Ruby felt ready to retire.
Once Sam had disappeared, reaching out for her goals didn’t seem quite so important. She’d lost her spark, her drive. Holt was too busy chasing his own dreams to give much thought to hers. Holt’s dreams had kept them in California. It wasn’t until he was gone, until Wynter was desperate to find a solution that would keep her and her precious baby off the streets, that she thought about making her dreams a reality
.
Resting her forehead against the cool glass of the front window, Wynter could just make out the chirp of the robins, foraging for worms on the muddy lawn. She could hear Riley behind her, making silly noises to entertain Charlotte.
These past few weeks with Sam had reminded her that they shared a special connection. He made her want to reach for the stars. He made her want to be the best mother she could be, the best provider for her little girl. Yet this time with him also showed her how much she needed Sam in her life again, in Charlotte’s life.
She swept a troubled gaze around the room. Beyond getting the books up onto the shelves, there wasn’t anything more Wynter could do for Riley. The paltry sum she’d saved to move back to Scallop Shores wasn’t nearly enough to get her started. Not unless she knew she had a job and a place to stay. Why hadn’t she heard back from Ruby yet? The woman was a stickler for manners and would have felt obligated to answer, even if it was to let her down gently . . . again.
And the more time she spent here in Braeden, the more she didn’t want to leave. Sam was here. Her sweet Sam. Riley too. Crusty ex-military with a gooey center. She felt closer to them than her own family. Surely it wouldn’t be considered settling if she were to stay for the people she had grown to love?
Charlotte giggled, causing Wynter to whirl around and gasp. Riley had coaxed out her baby’s first real laugh. Her eyes met his, the shock and wonder she saw showing her that he understood the import of the situation. Unbuckling the seat, she scooped the infant into her arms, her own laughter bubbling to the surface.
“You’ve reached a milestone, little one. Do you realize how amazing that is? You love your Uncle Riley, don’t you, baby girl? Mommy loves him too.”
Curling her daughter against her side, Wynter wrapped her other arm around Riley, kissing him loudly on his whiskered cheek. He sputtered and slapped at her arm, but she could see that he was pleased.
“Hey, what am I paying you for? Give me that little bundle of sugar and get to work putting my books away. Those shelves look downright naked.”
Okay, so it wasn’t Scallop Shores, but the tiny town of Braeden had Sam and Riley. Maybe it was time to give it another shot. Sam had always told her to dream big. Well, here was a crazy idea: opening a bookstore right here in blink-and-you-miss-it downtown Braeden. How was that for big, Sam?
• • •
Sam opened the sticky plastic menu, closed it, then opened it again. He still wasn’t quite sure how they’d gotten here. In all the years he’d known Riley, the man had never left the safety and comfort of his own house. His friend kept a low profile, much like himself, so to see him sitting at this table, in the middle of a restaurant full of gawping strangers, really blew him away.
As a matter of fact, the prickly marine that he’d known and loved had turned into more of a teddy bear now that Wynter and Charlotte were around. He sort of missed the barking and snarling that indicated Riley was in a good mood. Before, when he was in a snit, he’d just lock Sam out.
Sure, he looked uncomfortable as hell, sitting here in full view of the scattering of townsfolk that stared as though they had never seen a man in a wheelchair before. But he was here. This was monumental. This was . . . eerie. Sam looked down at the table, where Wynter covered one of Riley’s hands with her own. A lifeline. God, he loved her.
“Save room for dessert, gentlemen. I heard the pies are to die for.” Her smile was beatific.
“Perfect. I’d like to die about now.” Riley stuck a finger in between his T-shirt and his Adam’s apple, pulling it away like it was choking him.
“Oh, you’re doing just fine. Ignore those bad-mannered busybodies. They just don’t know you yet.”
“Who says I want to give them the chance?” Riley hunched down in his chair, a childish pout on his full lips.
“I’m with Ri on this, babe. You’ve got to admit this atmosphere is a little . . . creepy.” Sam arched a brow, daring her to prove him wrong.
“Hey, I’m not the one who chose this town to hide out in. Creepy is as creepy does.”
Her laughter trilled out. Sam shook his head, sharing a brief look with Riley before focusing his attention on the menu.
“Oh, look Riley. They have meatloaf. I wonder if it’s as good as your mother used to make.” At Sam’s blank stare, Wynter added, “It’s his favorite dinner. What he always used to ask for on his birthday.”
He always thought chili was Riley’s favorite dinner. When had Wynter become the expert on all things Riley Tucker? And when had Sam started treating it like a competition? The baby began to fuss in her car seat and Sam automatically reached out a toe to set it in motion.
Tuning out the nosy restaurant patrons, he took stock of his surroundings. God, when was the last time he’d eaten a meal out? Here? Never. Bubblegum-popping oldies music scratched out of the speakers. Cherry red vinyl covered nearly every surface. Their waitress glared at them from the counter, her beehive hairdo as stiff as her spine. An assortment of pies perched by the register, supported on thick, glass pedestals.
“What are you getting, Sam?”
“Hmm?” He pulled his gaze away from a larger-than-life print of Elvis.
“The menu? What are you going to order?” Wynter’s mouth twitched.
They were out of their element, him and Riley both. She had to be enjoying this.
“What are we doing here, again?” He tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice. Wynter never did anything for purely selfish means. She always had their best interests at heart.
“We’re celebrating.” She beamed.
“Right. The successful completion of my kick-ass built in shelves by my sexy DIY-er. You have to see them now, filled with my books.”
“Yeah, I know . . . Kick ass.” Sam growled. Wynter was his sexy DIY-er. Jealousy flared and a gnawing need to hurt his newest friend was growing inside him.
“Down, boy!” Riley winked. “Everyone knows she’s your woman. I’ve got no designs.” He held his hands up in mock surrender.
A delicate blush rose on Wynter’s pale cheeks. She rolled her eyes but it was clear she didn’t mind the attention one bit.
“We’re also celebrating a huge milestone in little Charlotte’s life. Her first laugh, courtesy of one Riley Tucker.” She squeezed Riley’s hand and gave him an adoring grin.
“Yeah, if I had to laugh at anyone for the first time, it’d be at Ri. Good call, baby girl.”
“And what milestone was it she gave you again? First blow out? Or was it first puke? I can never remember. Oh, wait! It was both.” Riley settled back in his wheelchair, his chuckle drawing the attention of the other diners. Only this time, Sam’s makeshift family chose not to care.
“I could go for a nice, greasy burger. Extra pickles. Do they do onion rings here?” He ran a finger down the list of sides, his mouth starting to water when he found the selection he was looking for.
“Mmm, a cheeseburger sounds incredible.”
Uh huh. The way she purred that last sentence sounded incredible. Sam squirmed in his seat, spearing Wynter with a look that left no question as to what he was thinking. Her irises darkened and he knew she was revisiting a memory of the two of them together. He also knew they’d be making more memories later tonight.
“Third wheel, here, feeling more than a tad uncomfortable,” sang out Riley.
Sure he was. His friend seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in spoiling the moment, especially given the sly grin on his ugly mug. Sam was starting to see what it would have been like to have a brother growing up. An annoying brother.
“So I was wondering if we might take a little walk around town after dinner.” Wynter’s suggestion had him refocusing his attention.
Sam looked up, abruptly. The two of them? Alone? As in a date?
“Aw, just rub salt into it, why don’t you?” Clearly Riley was thinking along the same lines.
Wynter blinked distractedly. She looked from Sam to Riley and back again befo
re realization dawned and she ducked her head shyly.
“Seriously, guys? I just thought we should do a little exploring. See what the town has to offer.”
“Not much,” Sam grunted.
“Probably could use a good bookstore, though. Dontcha think, Sammy boy?”
Sam could have leaned across the table and kissed the man. Why the heck hadn’t he thought of that? The closer Wynter had been to finishing her project for Riley, the more panicked Sam had become. How were they going to keep her in Braeden? What about this pitiful excuse for a town could entice her to stay?
“That’s exactly what I was thinking, Riley.” Her excitement was contagious.
Even the surly waitress couldn’t douse the party atmosphere that surrounded their little table. She took their orders and refilled their drinks. Sam could tell she was memorizing as much as possible to be able to return to the kitchen with some gossip about the new folks.
Wynter had unstrapped the baby from her car seat and was bouncing her on her shoulder. Riley was trying to talk her into a military-book themed store. This led them to start trying to outdo each other with oddly themed bookstores. Just cookbooks. Only dictionaries. A tribute to Dr. Seuss.
“We don’t have to stay in Braeden, you know.” His suggestion was voiced quietly, once the laughter had died down.
This time, thankfully, Riley kept his mouth shut.
“Not Scallop Shores, but . . . Scallop Shores-ish?” Her smile was equal parts sad and hopeful. Would she go for it?
“One big happy family?” He wiped his sweaty palms against the stiff denim of his jeans.
“I’d like that.” And she grabbed for one of his hands beneath the table, lifting it to the surface before doing the same with Riley.
“Aw, gushy crap. I’m gonna need another beer.” Riley signaled for the waitress with his free hand, never even attempting to slip out of Wynter’s grasp, Sam noticed.
Survivor’s guilt had caused Sam to push his sister and his grandmother away. He’d lived in solitude for so long he’d thought he hadn’t needed anyone else. Then Wynter swept back into his life, reforging relationships, building a family where he never expected to find one. And that’s what they were. One big happy family. For the first time since his parents’ death he longed to reach out to Paulie and his grandmother. He didn’t want to be alone anymore.