Still … kissing Cat was an idea that held his interest as he worked through the sweet rolls. He’d been ready to ask her out on a real, honest to goodness date, and then she’d called him her friend.
The dreaded friend.
The phrase iced over his invitation like a freeze ray, and so he sat here eating cinnamon rolls for dinner.
His mom wandered in halfway through the second helping. “I thought I heard you. How’s it going?”
“Good. Where’s Dad?”
“He fell asleep in his chair again.” Mom poured herself a glass of milk and sat across from him. “I saw ya at church on Sunday. You had quite the group gathered round.”
Sam leaned back. “Not what I was looking for, I’ll tell you that much.”
“They were pretty girls.”
“Yep. But I’m playing hard to get.” Funny, he hadn’t given Roxy or what-was-her-name another thought after leaving the church on Sunday.
Cat, on the other hand …
His mom smiled. “What are you thinking about?”
Sam blinked. “Just running over the list of things to do before the workers pull in.”
“I don’t think so. That was not a work look. That was a sweetheart look.”
Sam ducked his head and cut another piece of roll. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“Uh-huh.”
He prayed she’d drop it.
Mom plucked at a frayed spot on the placemat. “We appreciate having you around, Sam. Your dad is proud to have you as a partner.”
Relieved, he replied, “I’m proud to be a Miller.”
Setting her glass down, she contemplated it for a moment before speaking again. “He’s not as young as he used to be. I think that’s hard on him, knowing he can’t keep up with you.”
“I hadn’t thought about it….”
“I know. I guess I wanted to say thank you from me, too—for being there for my man. It means a lot to a woman.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “We worry about our guys.”
“I’ll always be here, Mom. There’s nothing out there that’s better than what’s here.”
She patted his hand and then took her glass to the sink. “I’m going to see if I can move my sleeping bear into bed. Good night.”
“Night.” Sam rinsed his plate, then put it and his mom’s glass in the dishwasher before heading out.
On the short drive home, his mind wandered. It sure would be nice to come home to a kind word and a warm set of lips.
Peach lips.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to capture a hint of peach as if Cat were sitting next to him. The wheel lurched in his hands, jerking him back to the present.
Sam swerved, righting his truck on the icy road. His heart rate spiked at his near collision with a snowbank. He needed to focus. And he needed to keep his thoughts on the straight and narrow before he ended up swerving into dangerous territory—on the road or with Cat.
Chapter 8
Cat yanked the wrench and gave a grunt. The darn slip nut wouldn’t move. “Aiden!” Her voice echoed around her in the cabinet under the sink.
“Yeah?” Aiden answered from somewhere in the room. Cat couldn’t see much lying on her side, the upper half of her body in the small cupboard.
“I need your muscles.”
“Oh yeah.” He lay down on his side and scooted his head in across from her. “I come in, guns a-blazin’.” He grabbed the wrench and flexed his biceps before loosening the slip nut.
Cat snorted a laugh. She should be used to the things that come out of Aiden’s mouth, but he’d caught her off guard more than once today.
When she and Mercedes moved to Snow Valley, Aiden volunteered his time to help Cat and Mercedes fix up their grandpa’s house. The now-seventeen-year-old had wormed his way into their hearts as the little brother they’d never had, and they couldn’t get rid of him if they wanted to. Not that they wanted to. Aiden was a crack-up, and though he was awfully proud of himself, sometimes his muscles came in handy. A fact that the teenage football player loved.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Not now. Thanks.”
“’Kay, I’m gonna finish painting, then.”
Grandpa was next door, doing the same repairs to a sink that Cat was doing to this one, and Aiden had been given the task of repainting the front rooms. The bunkhouses were long rectangles divided by cinderblock walls. The paint had long ago started to peel off the brick, and Sam wanted them scraped and painted. Aiden, with the energy of a teenager, was the perfect one to tackle the project.
“So, when are you getting married, Cat?” asked Aiden. He liked to throw that one out there every once in a while just to see what she’d say.
“A week from Tuesday.” Cat yanked the bucket under the open pipe to catch the foul-smelling gunk that oozed out. Covering her nose, she scooted out of the cupboard and sat up, only to find Aiden and Sam staring at her like she’d grown horns.
Her heart jumped with something akin to happy panic at the sight of Sam in his work clothes. That man knew how to fill out a jacket. Why hadn’t she heard him come in?
The guys exchanged an incredulous look. Aiden opened and closed his mouth. “For real?”
Cat scoffed. “No.” She stayed on the floor, knowing she’d have to go back under the cupboard in a moment.
Aiden fell against the wall he’d just finished painting, his hand over his heart. “I thought you’d fallen for one of those online stalker guys who promises to marry you and then sells you to human trafficking rings.”
“For real?” Cat made a face. “Hey, you’re getting shirt on that paint.”
“I’m …?” Aiden jumped off the wall, spinning in an effort to see his shoulder blade and resembling a puppy chasing his tail.
Sam shook his head and crouched down in front of Cat. “Why is it smart men become idiots around you?”
Cat shrugged. “Because I’m stunningly beautiful and can fix a kitchen sink?” She patted the messy bun on top of her head. She knew for a fact that there were all sorts of sections falling out, and she probably had paint in half of it.
Sam’s smile was warm and oh so inviting. “There is that.”
Cat bit her lip, wondering if that was her beauty or the fact that she could install a new kitchen sink.
“What is that smell?” Sam made a face.
“Your P-trap,” replied Cat. “Here, take this someplace far away and dump it out, will you?” The pipe had finished dripping so she handed him the bucket full of six months of sludge.
Sam held it at arm’s length. “Dragon slayer to chicken whisperer, and now garbage man—am I being demoted?”
Cat smoothed her hand down her pant leg. “I prefer the term Renaissance man.”
“Great, now I’m in tights,” Sam grumbled on his way out the door.
“How’s it coming in here?” Grandpa clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he came through the front door.
Cat wiggled back under the sink. “I’m almost finished with this, and gunslinger over there is done with the wall.”
Grandpa groaned as he got down on the floor next to her legs. “Looks good, pumpkin.”
“I learned from the best.” She and Mercedes had often helped their grandpa with repairs on the apartments back in Boston.
“I’m about ready to head home. We’ve finished what I had on the list for today,” said Grandpa.
Cat positioned the pipe and tightened the slip nut before handing the wrench out to Grandpa to put in her toolbox. “What’s on the list for tomorrow?”
“We’re going to build closets.”
“Sweet.” Aiden wrapped the foam paint roller in a plastic shopping bag and then removed it from the stick.
“By the time we’re done with you, you’ll be able to build a house,” Grandpa held out his hand, and Aiden pulled him off the floor—with another groan. His knees weren’t what they used to be, and he often iced them before going to bed. Cat had
asked, but Grandpa hadn’t been to see a doctor yet. She frowned. What would happen if she moved home and Grandpa needed knee surgery? Mercedes and Chet could help … she supposed.
“Great, I’ll build a house for me and Cat,” Aiden said.
Cat shook her head.
“You want to marry my girl?” Grandpa growled.
Aiden didn’t have the good sense to look scared. “Ya-huh.”
“What happens if Cat wants to live in Boston?” asked Grandpa.
“For Cat, I would move to Boston. Wait—are you moving?” Aiden looked like he was about to grab her around the legs and beg her not to go.
Cat held up her palm like she was stopping traffic. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words I’m leaving out loud. In truth, the closer it got to her departure date, the more she wanted to stay. She hadn’t even booked her flight. At this rate, she’d be paying double, and she didn’t even care. “I’m not exactly sure where I belong right now.” The feeling of Sam’s arms around her enveloped Cat, making her believe that there was one place she belonged. She stared at the floor, not wanting that moment to evaporate.
Aiden wiped his brow in an exaggerated show of relief. “If you go, there won’t be any beautiful women in my life.”
“Don’t let Karina hear you say that.” Cat elbowed him in the stomach.
He looked around as if she had walked up behind him. “Don’t get me in trouble.”
“You get yourself in trouble.” Cat gathered the rest of her tools and put them in their assigned spots in her toolbox. Having a task to focus on kept her from feeling guilty for not telling Aiden the truth. Once she told him, he’d tell Whitney, and then the whole Bauer family would light up her phone, and she couldn’t handle the goodbyes, not yet.
Sam came back in with an empty bucket and a sour look. “That. Was. Disgusting.”
Cat laughed as she took the bucket from him, noting that not a speck of the goo remained. He must have rinsed the bucket with snow. That was nice.
“We’re packing up and ready to head out.” Cat watched Sam as he took in the wall and the new plumbing. Grandpa and Aiden carried supplies out to the truck. She should be helping them pick up, but things seemed easy with Sam today, and she wanted that to last.
On second thought, her clothes and skin were grungy. “Which section is your land?” She pointed right and then left.
Sam took her hand in his and pointed behind her.
His touch did funny things to her mind, and all she could think to say was, “Oh.”
Sam’s eyes took on a semi-seductive quality. “Do you want to see it?”
“Yeah.”
“Great.” He perused her jeans and sweatshirt. “Do you have anything warmer?”
“My coat’s over there.” Cat picked up her toolbox.
Sam took the box from her hand and carried it out to his old work truck. She grabbed her coat off the hook by the door before shutting it behind them.
“I’ve got a few things you can borrow.” He put her tools in the back of his pickup.
“I’m going with Sam to see his property,” Cat called.
“Okay. Have a good time.” Grandpa waved and shut the door to his truck. His exaggerated wink was missed by Aiden, who was already in the passenger seat, his hands close to the heater vent, sucking whatever warmth he could get.
Cat stomped her feet, her sneakers squeaking against the snow.
Sam hooked his finger in her pocket, giving her all sorts of goose bumps. “Come on. Let’s get you back to my place.”
Cat tilted her eyebrow with a suggestive slant. Standing in front of her was a living, breathing cowboy, and she wanted a taste of the country. Oh-yeah. There was no denying it. She was smitten. “You’re a smooth-talking one, aren’t you.”
Sam turned red. Not just hey it’s cold out here red, but bottom-of-the-volcano red. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Of course you didn’t. What had really happened at the shake shop suddenly became clear to Cat. Their nearly kiss was uncomfortable for him. Caught up in the moment, he almost went through with it but was now grateful nothing had happened between them. To get him out of the friend zone, she’d need a crowbar and flirting skills that were beyond her reach. “I’m just teasing, Sam.” She cuffed his shoulder. “Come on, my ears are going to freeze off.”
The cab of Sam’s truck was, thankfully, warmer than the outside temps. He fired up the engine and the heaters blasted warm air.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen your house.” She chatted so her teeth wouldn’t chatter.
Sam shifted and put his arm across the back of the bench seat, his hand close enough to her shoulder to give her ideas about scooting into the middle and leaning against his nicely formed chest. Who knew working in an orchard could create muscles like that? Turning her gaze out the side window, she schooled her thoughts, not needing the heater after all.
* * *
“It’s more of a cabin.”
Cat grinned. “A bachelor pad, eh?”
Sam leaned against the door, where a small breeze came through the cracked window. He sucked in as much of the non-peach-flavored air as he could. When Cat had given him that come-hither look, his mind had followed the arch of her brow and dipped right into forbidden territory. He’d already issued the invitation to show her the land he was buying, so he couldn’t run like Joseph from Potiphar’s wife. Sam had a whole new appreciation for the temptation Joseph faced. Not that Cat was asking—or offering—that! But the flirtatious gleam in her eye had him thinking about sampling forbidden fruit, and the ice-cold breeze on his face was a good reminder to keep his thoughts this side of the temperature gauge. “I guess you could say that.”
Before he opened his big mouth, he bit his tongue to keep from explaining that the master closet was big enough to fit a future wife’s wardrobe. His clothing filled a fourth of the space, which his younger sister assured him was the correct husband-to-wife ratio for a walk-in closet.
They rounded the bend and his cabin came into view. He stopped the truck, clasped his hands, and laid them over the steering wheel.
Cat leaned forward in her seat. “I’d love to say it’s really cute, with the smoke coming out of the rock chimney and everything, but I don’t want to bruise your male ego. Let’s call it … picturesque.”
Sam grinned. “You like it?”
“It’s postcard perfect. There’s mounds of snow all round. The green metal roofing is the perfect accent to the rustic log structure. The wraparound porch is ideal—that swing is so inviting. I even love the woodpile over there and the small shed in the back.”
Sam started forward again. “That small shed is a two-car garage.”
“Pardon me.” Cat grinned. “Please tell me there’s not an outhouse.”
“Nope. Modern amenities included.”
“Double ovens?” Cat clasped her hands in front of her as if his answer would fulfill her every wish.
“There’s a nice spot on the west wall with a set of plugs, but I don’t cook much so one oven was enough for me.” Sam bit his tongue. What was he, a realtor?
Cat grinned. “That’s smart. I wish the people who’d wired Grandpa’s place had thought ahead. We barely got away with adding one extra plug on the circuit breaker.” She tipped her head up. “Think of the bread I could make in a set of double ovens.”
“Wouldn’t the point be to have one oven for bread and the other for a turkey?”
“On holidays, yes. But a family goes through a lot of bread.”
Sam leaned away from the door and towards Cat. She didn’t seem embarrassed to talk about a future family. Women had it so easy. They could aspire to a home and young ones and not look like wimps. Men, on the other hand, had to tread with care. “I guess there are a lot of peanut butter and honey sandwiches for lunch.”
“Honey?”
The truck rumbled to a stop in front of the house, and Sam pulled out the key. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a grilled peanut butt
er and honey sandwich.”
Cat shook her head.
“They were a mainstay at our table growing up. Stay there,” he told her as he came around to her side to open the door.
“I guess, if you grow your own honey.”
Sam chuckled. “Yes. Growing honey is hard work.”
Cat started for the front door. “What do you call it then?”
“Collecting. We collect the honey. The bees make it.”
“My bad,” she joked.
Sam reached around her to open the front door. She smelled of tools and dust and those darn peaches. She must have gallons of that shampoo at home. There was something else in there too. Coconut? Altogether, she was a temptingly sweet tropical concoction.
“Speaking of bees …” She looked around. “Where do you keep them in the winter?”
Sam put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to the east. “See that small red dot out there?” he said in her ear, pointing to the barn about a mile away.
She swallowed and then nodded. Her hair was piled on top of her head with small wisps framing her face. They tickled his cheek.
“When they go into cluster for the winter, we move their hives into the barn to protect them against the cold. Inside the hive it’s ninety degrees, but being out of the weather ensures that we don’t lose them.”
“Oh,” Cat whispered.
Too late, Sam realized his hands were still on her shoulders, and he was close enough to kiss her neck if he wanted to. He wanted to. Oh boy, did he want to lean close and press his lips to her soft skin. Instead, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. A temptation like her should be illegal. He could do this. Knowing she wasn’t in to him the same way made it easier to school his attraction than it would be if she was really interested.
The house was comfortable, a stark contrast to the temperatures outside, with a fire in the woodstove. A plaid couch separated the kitchen and the living room, and there was a braided rug under the coffee table that ran right up to the furniture to keep toes warm on cold winter days. Like today.
Hurrying to the enclosed back deck where he kept his work clothes and the washer and dryer, Sam grabbed his spare pair of snow pants, boots, gloves, and a knit hat.
Winter in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance) Page 6