Make Me Stay

by Jaci Burton

  She gave him a look. "Why, yes, actually, it does. My job is very fulfilling."

  "I wasn't making fun of you, Sam. I imagine your work is extremely rewarding. You get to see surprise and happiness and often comfort on the faces of the people you deliver to. Not many people get that in their line of work."

  "Thank you. And yes, I love what I do. Grammy Claire brought me into the flower shop when I was a little girl, and used to take me out with her on deliveries. I loved to see the looks of happiness on people's faces when she brought them flowers. It's such a simple gesture, but it means so much to people. Flowers signify life and love and a future. Even in death it brings comfort and a sense of ease to such a sad occasion. And when a future bride comes in to plan her wedding, helping her choose just the right flowers, seeing her eyes light up when we put her bouquet together, means everything--both to her and to me."

  "I guess you don't really have a bad day at work, do you?"

  She laughed. "Not really. Occasionally I can have an overwhelming day, but not a bad one."

  "You're very lucky."

  She took a sip of her wine. "You have some bad days."

  "Here and there."

  "But you love what you do as well."

  "I do. There's nothing like designing a building, to see something you've created in your head built from the ground up."

  "Or, in the case of the mercantile, refurbished?"

  "Yeah. Just the thought of the town tearing that building down didn't sit right with me."

  She nodded. "Me, neither. I'm a big proponent of progress. If our town grows, my business will as well. But the old mercantile has been around as long as I've been alive, and as long as my grandmother has as well. She has told me so many stories of all the businesses that operated out of that building. I couldn't imagine it not being there every time I walk through town."

  "The building has great bones, and its structure is still intact. There's no reason it can't still sustain businesses, which is my intent for it."

  "I'm so glad you and your brothers convinced the town to sell you the building. You'll lease out the spaces and bring in new clients. So instead of leveling it to the ground to put in a pharmacy or whatever the town's idea was, you'll bring in several new businesses, which I assume is your plan."

  "Yes. Retail space on the ground floor, office space on the second and third."

  "Awesome. I can't wait to see what it will look like." She took another swallow of wine, then set her glass on the coffee table. "Care to tell me a little bit about what you have planned?"

  "In what way?"

  "Like, do you have tenants yet?"

  "We've had some interest."

  "So in other words, you're keeping some secrets."

  "Not really. We just don't have anything firm from anyone yet, so I don't want to say anything in case people back out."

  "I can accept that. But that doesn't mean I'll stop asking."

  He smiled. "You can ask all you want. Doesn't mean I'll tell you anything."

  She studied him, and he liked the intelligence he saw in those beautiful eyes of hers. "Keeping those cards close to the vest, aren't you, McCormack?"

  "Don't ever play poker with me, Sam."

  "There's a challenge if I ever heard one. How do you know I wouldn't kick your butt in poker?"

  "I don't know. I'm pretty good at it."

  She gave him a wicked grin. "So am I."

  The doorbell rang.

  "I've got this," Reid said, getting up.

  Sam stood, too. "No. I invited you for dinner."

  He already had his wallet out. "You fed me last time. This one's on me."

  "Okay."

  He paid for the pizza while she went into the kitchen and laid out plates on the counter.

  "I don't know about you," he said when he opened the pizza box, "but I'm starving."

  "I am, too."

  They took their filled plates and napkins into the living room and settled in, and Sam turned on the television, scrolling through until she found the channel she wanted.

  "Oh, good. Just in time for the start of the movie."

  He looked, then grimaced. "You really were serious about making me suffer through one of these movies."

  "Absolutely."

  The movie was about a guy who had a secret, and a woman who knew nothing about it and fell in love with him. The heroine of the movie was sweet and had a child, and the hero ended up falling in love with her. But the hero was actually undercover DEA, and the heroine's ex-husband was an ex-con involved with a huge drug cartel. They knew the ex wanted to see his kid, and he'd probably pass through this way before he made his next delivery. They thought this was the best way to capture him.

  When the ex showed up, the hero would be there to bring him down. Except by then he was in love with the heroine, and the last thing he wanted was to blow his cover with her.

  "This would never happen in real life," Reid said.

  "Shh." She'd made popcorn, and they'd both switched to iced tea. At a commercial break he'd taken Not My Dog out back and Sam had set a bowl of water on the floor in the kitchen. The dog lapped it up, then looked at Reid like he wanted to jump up on the sofa and cuddle with them.

  "Not happening."

  With a deep sigh, Not My Dog settled in on the floor in front of the sofa.

  The action continued. The heroine's son was in danger once the ex went on the run, taking the kid as a hostage.

  "That's some terrible parenting right there," Reid said, grabbing another handful of popcorn.

  Sam shook her head.

  The hero had gone after the bad guy, promising the heroine he'd get her child back. And, of course, he did. The bad guy was arrested, and the hero brought the child back to the heroine, who was rightly pissed off that he'd lied to her about everything and told the guy to take a hike.

  "Bet by the end of the movie they end up back together again," he said, taking a sip of his iced tea.

  "Shh," Sam said. "Of course they will. But it's how they get there that counts."

  He was right. The woman and her child went back to her old life, but she was miserable without the hero. He went back to duty, but he wasn't happy, either. They ended up reunited, and the hero told the heroine he was sorry for deceiving her, that in the beginning it had been just a job, but he hadn't expected to fall in love with her and her kid.

  The heroine fell into his arms and they kissed. The movie ended with them embracing, with the kid in between them.

  "See?" he said. "It all ends up with a happily-ever-after."

  Sam laid her glass down, crossed her legs, and faced him. "And you have some issue with happily-ever-after?"

  "No. I just don't think it's realistic that every relationship that has problems can be neatly resolved in fifteen minutes, and everyone ends up happy."

  "In real life, no. But you do realize this is just a movie, Reid."

  He shrugged. "I guess."

  "But I see your concern. You think we women watch these movies and search for perfect men who are going to ride up on that white steed and save us from our mundane or, God forbid, heinous lives, when in reality no such man exists."

  He frowned. "Now you're messing with me."

  She grinned back at him. "Maybe a little. But come on, Reid. It's entertainment and nothing more. I can assure you I have no illusions about men of the real or TV variety. A man is flawed just like any woman. We all make mistakes and likely screw up relationships. Did the last relationship you had make you wary about that elusive happily-ever-after?"

  Is that what he was doing? Was he still holding tight to that fantasy of Britt, to what he'd thought their relationship was and what it had really ended up being? He didn't spend a lot of time thinking about her, so likely not.

  "I don't know. Maybe. I haven't had a lot of luck with women."

  "Really. And what does that mean? That you don't get lucky very often, or that your relationships tend to end badly?"

  He laug
hed. "Oh, I can get lucky all right. I just don't stay lucky."

  "So you have no problem getting laid. It's keeping them afterward that's a problem."

  He shot her a look. "Now you're making it sound like I'm bad in bed."

  She gave him a quizzical look. "Are you?"

  "Hell no."

  She got up and grabbed the empty popcorn bowl and headed into the kitchen. "Of course, I have no firsthand knowledge of your sexual prowess, so I can't attest to the truthfulness of that statement."

  Now she really was messing with him, but he wasn't about to take it just sitting there. He got up and followed her into the kitchen. "I'll be happy to give proof of my . . . prowess, if you'd like."

  After placing the bowl in the sink, she turned around to face him. "Sure. I guess it's time to put up or shut up, McCormack."

  He cocked a brow. "You're serious."

  "Why not? You're clearly bored with TV, and unless you have to be in bed by nine p.m., there's not much else to do. I'm game if you are."

  He reached for her hand, hauling her up and against him. The scent of something sweet filled the air around him.

  "Say no right now if you don't mean what you just said."

  Her gaze was direct, and he saw nothing but the truth--and desire--there. "I don't say what I don't mean, Reid."

  "Good enough." He slid his hand into her hair to hold her head right where he wanted it, then kissed her.

  Chapter 14

  WHOA. SAMANTHA HAD thrown out the dare, sure. But she hadn't expected this all-consuming takeover of her body. She was hot--all over. And Reid had lit the flame.

  She'd laid down the challenge, and she'd been truthful with Reid when she told him she never said things she didn't mean. But she hadn't intended to invite him into her bed tonight--certainly hadn't intended it when she'd asked him over for dinner. The conversation had just naturally gravitated in that direction.

  But--why not? They were two healthy, single, consenting adults. Plus, he was gorgeous, and right now his mouth was doing deliciously sensual things to hers, igniting her entire body into a giant, turned-on bonfire.

  He had a firm grip on her head, his fingertips massaging her scalp in a way she could only define as Oh-God-keep-doing-that. His other hand roamed her back, inching ever lower until he reached her butt.

  The man was definitely not shy. He grabbed hold of her butt and drew her close against every rock-hard part of him. And some parts of him were definitely harder than others, a fact her body definitely noticed and reacted to by firing up even hotter.

  She was afraid she was going to self-combust. She pressed the palms of her hands against his chest, needing some air. He pulled away, igniting her with the desire she read in his eyes.

  "You okay?" he asked.

  His voice had dropped an octave. Who knew that was such a turn-on?

  "I'm hot."

  His lips ticked up. "Yeah. I noticed. I'm hard."

  She reached between them, unable to resist testing him out for size. He was . . . very impressive. "I know."

  "So . . . you're hot and I'm hard. Should we do something about that?"

  She looped her arms around his neck. "Most definitely. If I can manage to breathe through it without dying."

  He frowned. "Asthma attack? Do you need a breather or some meds?"

  "Uh, no. You just steal my breath."

  He splayed his hands over her back, then lifted her shirt, his fingers playing over her skin. His hands seemed to be everywhere.

  Reid had always struck her as so laid-back. Suddenly he seemed so . . . urgent. And she had to admit, the fact he wanted her rather . . . urgently . . . was firing up her own need in a rather urgent way as well.

  Was there anything hotter than a man who desperately wanted you?

  "Take a couple of deep breaths."

  She did, shuddering. "You touching me like that isn't helping."

  "Like what? Like this?" He teased the top of her pants with the tips of his fingers, dipping just inside the back of them to toy with the top of her underwear.

  Yeah, there went that breathing thing again. "Yes. Like that."

  "If I took your clothes off, maybe you could breathe better." His fingers snaked along her rib cage, coming to rest just below her breasts.

  Clothes off. Definitely. "That might help."

  "Lead the way to your bedroom and let me take care of that for you."

  She took his hand and started toward the hallway.

  Then her landline phone rang.

  Crap. Only one person called her landline these days.

  "That's Grammy Claire," she said. "I have to answer it."

  He let go of her hand. "Go ahead."

  She dashed into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. "Hello?"

  "Samantha? Is that you?"

  "Of course it is, Grammy Claire. Are you home?"

  "No. I'm . . . I have a question."

  Something wasn't right. Sam could tell from her grandmother's voice. "Okay. What's your question?"

  "How do I get home from the grocery store? I don't quite remember what street to turn on out of the parking lot."

  Sam closed her eyes and leaned against the kitchen counter for support. "I'll be right there to get you."

  "No need, dear. I just need a few directions."

  "I was about to go out anyway, Grammy Claire," she said, giving Reid a look. "So I'll just meet you at the store and guide you home, okay?"

  "Okay."

  "You stay right there in your car and I'll be there in about five minutes. Promise me you won't leave the parking lot at the store?"

  "Of course. I'll be right here."

  "I'm leaving the house now. I'll see you soon."

  She hung up. Reid had his keys in his hands. "Something's wrong with your grandmother."

  Sam had her shoes in her hands. "I should drive. She won't recognize your truck."

  He put his hands over hers. "Your hands are shaking. If you want to take your car, that's fine. But how about you let me drive?"

  She hesitated for only a second, but realized he was right. "Of course. Keys are on the hook in the kitchen."

  He grabbed them while she slipped into her shoes. Then they were out the door.

  When they pulled into the grocery store lot, she directed Reid to Grammy Claire's car. Her grandmother was still sitting in the car, looking out the windshield.

  Claire breathed a slight sigh of relief, pushing the major concern to the back of her mind--for now. She slid out of the car and went over to the driver's side, letting her grandmother notice her rather than knocking on the window. She didn't want to scare her.

  Her grandmother smiled at her and rolled down the window.

  "Hello, Samantha."

  "Hi, Grammy Claire. Are you ready to go home now?"

  "Yes." She looked over at Sam's car. "I see you have Reid McCormack with you. Did you two have a date?"

  "We just shared a pizza together. How about if I drive?"

  "That's totally not necessary."

  "Of course it's not, but you mentioned you had that engine problem the other day and I wanted to listen to your car, so how about you let me drive it?"

  "All right."

  Her grandmother got out and moved to the passenger side and Sam got in, deciding to wait for later to have a discussion with her grandmother. Right now it was important to get her safely home.

  Sam pulled into her grandmother's garage, and Grammy Claire got out of the car. Sam popped the trunk, then went to the back of the car, only to find no groceries. She looked in the backseat and didn't see anything there, either.

  "Did you stop at the store for something, Grammy Claire?"

  "Um . . . I thought so. Did I forget to buy the groceries?"

  Yet another concern about her grandmother.

  "I'll be inside in just a second, okay?"

  "Sure, sure." Her grandmother waved her hand, then went inside. Sam walked down the driveway to her car, where Reid had stepped out, waiti
ng for her.

  "I need to spend some time with my grandmother. Something is definitely not right. She has never not been able to find her way home. Or forgotten to get groceries."

  She tried her best to tamp down the swell of panic in her chest.

  Breathe, Sam. Breathe.

  "Do you need me to stay with you?" Reid asked.

  She saw the sympathy in his eyes, and she was damn glad he'd been here with her tonight. But she had to deal with this by herself.

  She shook her head. "No, but thanks for being so nice about this."

  "Hey, it's family, Sam, and family always comes first." He brushed his lips across hers, then laid her keys in her hands. "Take care of your grandmother. I'm going to go grab the dog and head out."

  She nodded. "Front door's unlocked. Just hit the button to lock it when you close it."

  He nodded. "Will do. Let me know if there's anything you need, okay?"

  "I will. Talk to you later."

  He walked away and down the street. She watched him for a minute, then turned on her heel and went inside to talk to her grandmother.

  Chapter 15

  SAMANTHA SAT WITH Megan inside Megan's bakery and coffee shop, which had closed for the day. Megan shoved a latte and a cranberry muffin in front of her. She wasn't hungry, but she had to admit, a strong cup of coffee and a sweet treat was something she really needed right now.

  Megan pulled up a chair and sat next to her. "Okay, talk to me. How did the doctor's appointment go?"

  Sam sighed. "About like I thought. First, Grammy Claire didn't want to go, but I explained to her about not remembering how to get home, and then no groceries when she'd specifically gone to the store to get some, meant something was up. I told her I was concerned for her well-being. You know how stubborn she is. She said that it had been a momentary lapse and she was fine."

  Megan had taken a sip of her coffee. She set the cup down. "But then you insisted, right?"

  "I did." She picked at the muffin, unable to resist a taste of the cranberry. One didn't just turn down something Megan had baked. After she swallowed and took a sip of the latte, she said, "Grammy Claire finally relented, so we went to see her doctor. When I told him about her memory, he was definitely concerned. He ran some blood work and did a simple neurological exam, and he said she seemed fine. But depending on the results of the blood and urine tests, he wants to send her to a neurologist for a further workup."

  Megan grasped her hand. "I know you're worried about her."

  "I am. And other than routine health issues for someone her age, she's been fine. Until now."