by Jaci Burton
"I need you inside me. How about right now?"
"You sure you don't want more screaming?"
She managed a laugh. "I have a suspicion there'll be more of that."
He rolled over and shrugged out of his boxer briefs, then grabbed a condom from his jeans pocket.
After he put it on, he rolled on top of her.
"Were you thinking of me when you slipped that condom into your pocket?"
He entered her. "Every fucking day and night, Samantha."
His words inflamed her. And when he took her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss and began to move inside her, her world turned upside down. She wrapped her legs around Reid's hips and lifted against him, needing him to give her all he had.
She'd never felt so fused to a man before, so deeply connected. Maybe it was nothing more than his finesse, the way he so thoroughly captured her with every touch, every kiss. But for her, it felt like so much more. She was in deep here, and if Reid hadn't been kissing her, holding so tight to her, grounding her, she'd drown in it all.
But he held her and kissed her and she felt every movement, every thrust, and it was perfect as he ground against her, taking her right where she wanted to go.
She had no words to give him, only her touch as she smoothed her hands down his arms, only moans and whimpers to voice her approval, only her body as she rose against him to meet him halfway.
He grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged. Sensation shot right to her core.
She came with a wild cry, her body tightening around his cock. He shoved in deep, only increasing her pleasure as waves of orgasm tunneled through her. He kissed her, a deep, thorough kiss that rocketed her further into those waves.
And then he went with her, his entire body shuddering as he came. She held on, reveling in every body-shocking sensation.
After they both came down from that incredible high, she smoothed her hands over his shoulders. His body was slick with sweat, his heart beating in fast time against her chest, matching her own hard-driving rhythm.
He ran his tongue against her bottom lip, then lifted his head, looking down at her with a satisfied smile and those sexy eyes of his.
"Need oxygen yet?"
She smiled up at him. "Maybe."
He got up and disappeared into the bathroom for a minute, then came back and climbed into bed with her, pulling her against his chest. It felt good to lie there with him, to feel the warmth of his body. She wrapped her leg around him and just . . . settled.
This had been good. Really good, especially now when they were quiet. There was nothing awkward about it, and Reid didn't seem in any hurry to take off. He rubbed her back, his fingers occasionally gliding into her hair.
She hadn't felt this peaceful and relaxed in a very long time.
She closed her eyes and let the calm wash over her.
REID JERKED HIS eyes open as something wet slid along his hand.
Disorientation took over for a few seconds before he got his bearings. There was a warm, naked body next to him.
Samantha.
And a dog with a wet tongue licking his hand.
Not My Dog.
Okay, check. Bearings realigned.
He slid out of bed and got dressed--at least half dressed, anyway.
He took Not My Dog out back and let him do his thing.
"Sorry, bud," he said as he led the dog back inside. "I kind of passed out."
The dog went into the kitchen for a drink, then sat and looked up at him.
"Yeah. I agree. Time to go."
He had no idea what time it was. He found his phone on the chair in the bedroom, grabbed it, and checked the time.
Four a.m.
Shit. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. Sex was fun and all, but he didn't want Sam to think--
A warm, naked body--with breasts--pressed against his back.
Damn, that felt good.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"Four. The dog needed to go out."
"Oh. Are you coming back to bed?"
He turned around, and damn if the sight of her--naked, her hair tousled from sleep--wasn't tempting as hell.
"Actually, no. I have an early meeting tomorrow--today. I need to get back to the ranch so I can shower and change clothes."
"Okay."
No argument. No whining or pouting. She sure made this hard on him.
Hell, she made everything hard on him. Including his dick. Which made him want to pull her back in bed and slide inside her warm, wet heat until at least dawn.
But, no.
Instead, he kissed her--briefly, because she was too tempting for him to linger. Then he grabbed his shirt and his keys while she put on a robe and walked him to the front door.
"Thanks for bringing me dinner tonight," she said. "Though, I suppose that was last night."
"You're welcome." He grabbed the lapels of her robe and brought her close. "Thanks for dessert."
She laughed and twined her hand around his neck to bring him down for a kiss. "Anytime."
If he kissed her for any longer he was going to pick her up and carry her to the bed. If they even made it to the bed.
"I gotta go."
She nodded. "See you later, Reid."
He walked out with the dog and climbed into his truck. The air was chilly, and he turned the heater on, wishing he were still in bed with Sam.
But that would be a really bad idea. The last thing he wanted was to get close to Sam. To get close to anyone while he was here.
He put the truck in reverse and backed out.
Chapter 19
SAM PUT THE finishing touches on a funeral spray, constantly checking the clock on the wall. The delivery was time sensitive.
It was a rush order, and for funerals, she did what needed to be done.
She knew the family of Mr. Tyrone, and had known him personally. He'd bought flowers for his wife for many years before she'd died. She'd stopped hearing from Mr. Tyrone after he'd gone into the nursing home many years ago.
And now she was making beautiful flowers for his casket.
Samantha took a step back and surveyed the red, white, and blue flower spray his family had decided on for their family tribute, signifying his military service. It would stand upright next to his casket, next to the flag that would be draped over it.
Perfect.
His grandchildren and great-grandchildren had already stopped by and selected the flowers they wanted. Several people had called to order wreaths, sprays, bouquets, and baskets as well. Edgar Tyrone had been popular and well-loved in Hope. And though he'd spent the last six years in a nursing home, people hadn't forgotten him.
Sam intended to make sure gorgeous bouquets to celebrate his life abounded at his funeral service.
It took her the entire day to make all the flowers, which she delivered to the funeral home before they were due. She helped the funeral director set everything up, then lingered in front of Mr. Tyrone's casket. She wasn't a personal friend--she had only known him from his trips into the flower shop--so she wouldn't be attending the funeral. But she said a few words and wished him well on his journey, then thanked the director and let him know to call her if there was anything else he needed.
Feeling a little melancholy, she stopped in at Megan's bakery after she got back.
It was late and the bakery was closed, so she rang the bell. It took Megan a few minutes to come to the front of the shop.
"Sorry," she said after she opened the door. "I was baking. Come on in."
Sam stepped in and inhaled the fresh smell of something amazing. Then again, it always smelled amazing in the bakery.
"What are you fixing?"
"Pies for tomorrow." Megan locked the door behind them. "Do you want something to drink? I just made raspberry iced tea. It's hot back there and I wanted something cool to drink."
"That sounds so good. And yes, thank you."
Sam grabbed a seat at one of the tables in front, trying to ignore the grumb
ling in her stomach. She'd been busy today--again. And had forgotten to eat lunch--again. Busy was good for business, but bad in that she wasn't eating lunch.
Megan came out bearing a tray with glasses of tea and muffins.
"You must have heard my stomach all the way in the back."
Megan smiled. "I didn't. Why, are you hungry? I'm hungry. I've been busy back there and needed a snack. Did you forget to eat lunch today?"
"I was doing the funeral flowers for Mr. Tyrone."
Megan's smile disappeared. "I had heard he passed. He was always so nice."
"He was. He used to stop in the store at least a few times a year to pick up flowers for his wife."
"He'd come in for baked goods, too, when Mrs. T was still alive. She was fond of cheesecake, and he liked to surprise her."
Sam sighed. "He must have really missed her after she died. He never came into the flower shop after."
"He didn't stop in here, either."
They both looked at each other. Sam wondered if Megan was thinking the same thing, about what it must be like to lose that one person you love more than anything.
"Did you get a lot of floral orders for his funeral?" Megan asked.
"I did."
"That's good to hear. I like knowing people loved him."
"They did. I think he'll have a lot of attendance." She grabbed a muffin and looked it over. "What are these? Chocolate with white macadamia nut?"
"Yes. Also, white chocolate chips."
"I love you, Megan."
Megan grinned. "I know."
Sam bit into the muffin, letting its sweet and nutty goodness melt in her mouth. "Mmm, these are fantastic."
"Thank you."
They downed their muffins, sipped tea, and caught up on the day's events.
"I saw a lot of work going on over at the mercantile today," Megan said.
"You did? I was so busy I didn't have time to check it out. What was going on?"
"Trades and such. Electrical and plumbing and HVAC stuff. I don't really know other than it was super busy. I didn't see Reid much, though."
"He said he had an early meeting this morning, so maybe that was off-site."
"Oh, he said that, did he? And when did he tell you that?"
Damn. She hadn't meant to spill that information. "Oh, uh, when we talked last night."
"When you talked last night. While you were at the bar, or was this after?"
She could lie--but she would never lie to her best friend. "No. We had dinner together."
"You had dinner, huh? At a restaurant?"
Megan was very good at this game. "No, at my place. I needed to check on Grammy Claire, so while I did that, he went and got chicken dinners from Bert's."
"Sounds cozy. Was it cozy?"
She sipped her tea and looked over the rim of her glass at Megan, who stared at her expectantly. "It was cozy. The chicken was very good."
"You know I'm not at all interested in your chicken dinner, right?"
"I'm aware."
"Which means you're being coy, and you're never coy. Which means you and Reid had sex."
Sam leaned back in her chair. "You're like some super sleuth, aren't you?"
"Not really. You're just transparent." Megan popped the last piece of muffin in her mouth, following it up with a swallow of iced tea. "So how was it? And if you tell me how good the chicken was, I'm going to deny you muffins for a week."
Sam gasped. "That's a pretty brutal threat, Megan."
Megan shrugged. "Hey, I'm trying to live vicariously through someone who actually has a sex life, so I have to use all the weapons in my arsenal. Now spill."
"It was . . . I don't know if I have the words."
"Try to find some. With adjectives."
"It was wonderful. He's a very inventive lover. And he has exceptional hands. Not to mention an incredible mouth."
Megan sighed. "I don't know whether to be supremely happy for you or to hate you."
"Oh, please don't hate me. You're my best friend. I need you. And your baked goods. Not to mention your coffee."
"I'm going to assume it's my friendship you cherish more than my baked goods and coffee."
Sam held up her right hand. "Hand to heart, I swear if you closed your bakery tomorrow, I'd still love you forever."
"Good enough. And I am happy for you. It sounds like your night went very well."
"Mostly."
"Uh-oh. What part didn't go well?"
"He didn't stay the night."
"Oh. He didn't get up right after and leave, did he?"
She shook her head. "We fell asleep together. But he got up in the wee hours and said he had to head back to the ranch to shower and change clothes."
"Okay, that's not too bad, is it?"
She shrugged. "I guess not. I mean, it's a reasonable excuse for not spending the night."
"But . . ."
"But I could tell he was uncomfortable about having slept in my bed. You know how it is with guys."
Megan shrugged. "I have a vague recollection."
She laughed. "You can tell the ones who genuinely want to be there with you and the ones who are slightly uncomfortable. I mean, when you're naked and having sex, they're of course all in. But it's the after part where they start second-guessing everything."
Megan studied her. "And you think Reid was second-guessing the sex part."
"Maybe. I don't know. It was four a.m. and things were a little hazy. So it's possible I'm overthinking it."
"Are you going to the barbecue this weekend at the ranch?"
Sam nodded. "Are you?"
"Of course. I'm providing baked goods. And I wouldn't miss ranch barbecue."
"Will the hot mechanic be there?"
Megan lifted her chin. "Brady? I have no idea. Just because we were paired up for one dinner at Des and Logan's place means absolutely nothing. I haven't even seen him since then."
"Maybe you should pursue it. Or him, I should say."
Megan let out a huff. "And maybe if he was interested he'd have pursued me. Which he didn't."
"Some men need a push. Like a car with a dead battery. Or some such vehicular analogy."
"I'm not much for pushing men around who don't want a push."
"Oh, please, Megan. It's the twenty-first century. If you're interested in him, you should go for it. Maybe he's shy."
"Brady Conners is hot and definitely as sexy as any man I've ever known. Shy? I don't think so. He's just . . . quiet."
"So unquiet him. Then seduce him with baked goods."
Megan laughed. "I'll think about it."
After Sam left Megan's place, she went back to clean up the shop. Once everything was in order, she locked the door and headed to her car. She took a passing glance over at the mercantile. It was after six and Reid's truck was there. She thought about walking over there to see what was up, but then changed her mind.
He hadn't called or texted her today. Maybe he'd been busy all day, or maybe his late-night flight out of her house had been his subtle way of telling her he'd like to keep things light and easy between them.
They were all supposed to meet over at the house Chelsea and Bash were interested in tonight. So she'd check him out then and see how he felt about . . . things. And if he wanted to do light and easy, she could do that.
After all, she knew whatever they had was only temporary.
First she needed to go home and check on her grandmother. Then she'd go check out Chelsea's dream house.
And Reid.
IT HAD BEEN a long day with electrical and plumbing and HVAC, and, much as Reid had suspected, it was going to be one expensive fix after another. He'd barely had time to run out and grab a sandwich to choke down for lunch today. They'd been working nonstop. But at least he knew that everything would be modernized and up to code in the building once they were finished.
When everyone was done for the day he checked his phone. Just enough time to meet Bash and Chelsea at the house they were
interested in buying.
He knew Sam was going to be there, and he hadn't even had a second to call or text her since he'd left her house early this morning, which made him feel shitty, but it had just been that kind of day.
He'd talk to her after they looked at the house.
He plotted directions into the GPS on his phone and made his way to the house. It was on a quiet street with mature trees. Looked like a great neighborhood. Lots of kids outside playing. He parked at the curb and got out. Bash and Chelsea were already there. Deacon was going to meet him there after he gassed up his truck.
Reid stood on the sidewalk and surveyed the front of the house. He could see the appeal. It was a one-story brick with a good-sized front yard and an awesome porch with enough room for several chairs and a table. He could already envision Bash and Chelsea sitting out there to watch the sun set at night.
There was great landscaping, with a lot of tall trees to provide shade to the house, and close enough to have neighbors to chat with, but not so close they could see into your windows.
He walked up the long driveway and headed to the front door, noting the nice-sized bay window that was probably either in the living room or the kitchen. From typical layouts for the time period, he'd wager it was the living area.
He knocked on the door, which was answered by an attractive woman with short, dark hair and a friendly smile.
"Hello, I'm Layla Appleton of Hope Realtors. You must be Reid McCormack?"
"I am."
They shook hands.
"I'm going to step outside and make some calls. Chelsea and Bash are in the main bathroom arguing about something," Layla said with a smile.
Reid laughed. "That sounds normal for them. Thanks."
He wandered into the living area. It was spacious, with a modern fireplace and spectacular wood floors.
Chelsea was right about these rooms having been updated. The kitchen was modern, with new appliances and a good-sized island, and it was open to the dining and living area. It was a great entertainment space.
He walked down the hall, following the sound of Chelsea's and Bash's voices, and ended up in what had to be the master bedroom.
"We are not painting the walls purple," Bash said.
Chelsea heaved a sigh. "It's not purple. It's eggplant. And just one wall."
Reid grinned. "Sounds like you two have already made up your minds about this place."
"That all depends on what you can do with the closet in the master bedroom," Chelsea said.
His phone buzzed, so he answered it. When he finished the call, he tucked the phone in his pocket. "Deacon got sidetracked on another one of his company's jobs, so he won't be able to make it. He said to tell you he trusts me completely to handle this."