by Cindy Kirk
Stella liked it that Sam took her hand as they walked to the front door. As they strolled through the house, she turned her head from side to side as she tried to take it all in.
“I’ll give you a personal tour.” He bent to kiss her cheek, and she saw the promise in his eyes. “Later.”
“You seem to like that word,” she teased.
He chuckled as he opened the door.
Derek grinned at the two of them.
“Took you long enough.” Derek pushed his way inside, then pointed to Stella. “You still haven’t sent me pictures of Camryn sledding.”
“That’s because I don’t have your email address. Let me get my purse. I left it in the kitchen. My phone is in it. We can do a quick AirDrop of the photos.”
Moments later the task was complete.
“These are amazing, Stella.” Derek glanced up and shifted his attention to Sam. “You should see the shots Stella got of Cam. Amazing.”
Sam took a minute to study the pictures on the phone. “These are good.”
Photography had been a hobby since Stella had been in grade school. She’d been told more times than she could count that she possessed the ability to capture what was important as well as a “creative” eye.
While Stella wasn’t sure that was true, she enjoyed photography immensely. That’s why the social media position had been such a great fit.
“This is it?” Sam held up the bag of chips that Derek had shoved at him while following Stella to the kitchen.
“What’s wrong?” Derek pulled off his coat and tossed it over a bar stool. “You should have told me if you didn’t like sour cream and onion. I could have picked up barbecue or even the plain ones with the ridges.”
“I asked you to pick up snacks for this evening since I was getting into town so late.” Sam let the bag dangle between his fingers. “Do you really think one bag of chips is enough to feed everyone?”
“The other guests will bring stuff.” Derek waved a dismissive hand, appearing not at all concerned. “Even when you tell them not to, they do.”
Stella realized with sudden horror that she should have brought something. Or at least asked if there was something she could contribute.
“I’m sorry.” Stricken, Stella looked up at Sam. “I should have brought something.”
Sam offered a reassuring smile that didn’t reassure. “You didn’t have to bring anything except yourself.”
“I know I didn’t have to, but I could have easily made up some stuffed pinwheels. Any time I’ve brought them to a party, they’ve gotten rave reviews. And trust me when I say that my salted caramel and chocolate stack bars are to die for.”
“Pinwheels are a personal favorite.” Derek casually removed the potato chip bag from Sam’s hands and wandered to a cabinet. Pulling out a large glass bowl, he dumped in the chips. “Bring them next time.”
“Okay.” As she said the word, Stella felt a sharp pain in the area of her heart.
It was highly probable that the next time this group of friends got together, she’d be long gone.
The doorbell rang, and when Sam turned, Derek brushed past him. “I’ll get it.”
Once he’d left the room, Stella turned to Sam. “I didn’t even think to bring anything.”
As if sensing her distress, Sam stepped toward her and enfolded her in his strong arms. “Don’t give it a second thought. You brought what was most important.”
She cocked her head, not following.
“You.” He kissed her softly on the lips. “You being here is what matters. Anything else is just . . . sour cream and onion chips.”
Derek was right, Stella thought. Each woman had brought a dish. There was enough food to feed an army platoon. Lucy brought a bag of tortilla chips—which Stella discovered was Sam’s favorite—along with a big bowl of something called “tequila-spiked queso fundido.”
Stella wasn’t certain of every ingredient in the dip, but it packed a punch.
Zach and Nate arrived with a six pack of Coronas and bottles of pale ale that were added to the Coors in Sam’s refrigerator.
Somehow, when it was time for the movies to begin, Stella ended up on the sofa beside Sam. His arm was around her shoulders, and his fingers played with her hair as they talked and laughed their way through two complete movies.
They were nearly to the end of Elf when everyone started to get antsy.
“I hate to rush off.” A regretful sigh escaped Kate’s lips when she returned from her trek to the front door to check the weather outside. She turned to Sam. “The snow is really piling up out there. But it’s the wind that has me worried. I’m afraid if we don’t leave now, you’re going to have a houseful of company tonight.”
“We weren’t supposed to get wind.” Zach’s comment earned him a pointed glance from Kate.
“Open that door and tell me what you think of the wind that we weren’t supposed to get.”
With an exaggerated breath, Zach clambered to his feet and headed for the door. He returned seconds later, a chagrined look on his face. “She’s right. It’s dumping snow, and the wind is bad.”
Zach glanced at Nate, whose feet were comfortably perched on a hassock. “Since you’re on call for pushing snow for the city, we better—”
His words were interrupted by a buzzing from Nate’s phone. Pulling it out, Nate glanced down and pulled himself to his feet. “You called that one. George wants us out and clearing the parking lots by five a.m.”
“What about the streets?” Stella frowned. “I would think the roads would be a higher priority than parking lots.”
“There’s a whole crew that deals with nothing but roads,” Nate explained. “The head of public works is over that department, and they have the big plows. My department helps out by covering the off-street lots owned by the city. We use trucks with blades.”
“Which is his long-winded way of saying,” Zach clamped a hand on Nate’s shoulder, “we won’t be able to stay this year to see Buddy and Jovie get together.”
“I understand if you feel you need to go, although you’re all welcome to spend the night. This old house has enough beds.” Sam was also on his feet now.
“We’ll be fine,” Faith shot him a smile that radiated warmth. “But I appreciate the offer.”
After grabbing coats and other winter gear, everyone headed en masse for the front door.
“Drive safe.” Sam’s brows furrowed in a worried frown. “The roads out here get treacherous, especially when there’s drifting.”
Kate shot Stella a questioning look, making it clear that the offer of a ride home was still on the table. The fact was, if Stella planned on leaving, it made sense for her to ride with Kate and the others.
There was no reason to make Sam drive her into town, then have to drive back in an ever-worsening storm.
Stella gave Kate an imperceptible shake of her head, and the brunette’s eyes took on a knowing gleam.
If Sam chose to drive her back to Holly Pointe, Stella would insist he spend the night. If he didn’t want to spend it with her, she’d press him to stay with any number of friends he had in town. Heck, if he didn’t want to impose on anyone, there was always his office.
But if he decided that he didn’t want to navigate the treacherous roads at all, she’d take him up on his offer to stay here all night.
While it was comforting to know there were any number of beds available for her to choose from, there was only one bed Stella wanted to be in tonight.
“I’m going to help clean off vehicles.” Sam gave her shoulder a squeeze and quickly pulled on his coat and boots.
Stella watched him and her other friends—yes, that’s how she thought of them all now—step into the swirling whiteness, and a feeling of belonging settled over her.
It was suddenly clear what must be done. While Sam was cleaning off the vehicles, she needed to do her own cleaning and remove this heavy weight from her shoulders.
Her desperate straits had blinded
her to moral implications of what she’d agreed to do. In her heart, she knew that sensationalizing a story to sell more papers was wrong. Not only that, writing the article would be a betrayal of the friendships that had been extended to her since arriving in Holly Pointe. Even if Stella tried to be objective, Jane would do whatever she could to skew the article toward the salacious.
Sensationalized news sells papers. That was Jane’s mantra, and it was why Stella decided she didn’t want to work for her.
Not on this project.
Not ever.
Stella picked up her phone and sent Jane a quick text pulling out of the project and promising to repay the money Jane had advanced her as soon as possible.
Once the message was sent, Stella shut off her phone. She didn’t want to hear back from Jane tonight.
Tonight was all about following the path that was right for her, a path it felt as if her entire life had been leading her toward.
Stella wanted to get a job and stay in Holly Pointe.
She wanted to have lunch with friends and talk about books over lattes.
If Sam told her he wanted her to sleep in one of his many beds, that’s where she would sleep. But she hoped, hoped, hoped he would want her in his bed with him.
Because now that her assignment no longer stood between them, Stella was ready to open her arms—and her heart—fully to Sam to see where it might lead.
While Sam braved the wild and wintery outdoors, Stella sat and finished the movie. She loved a happy ending, and the conclusion to Elf left her with a smile on her face. Then Stella turned her attention to cleaning up the living room. In the pantry, she found some lovely storage containers—no doubt left over from his mother—and put what little food hadn’t been devoured into containers, then popped them in the refrigerator.
The chips had disappeared with lightning speed, leaving nothing behind but empty sacks. Once the living room was back in order, Stella hand-washed the bowls and pans that the heartier food had come in.
She was drying the last bowl when the door leading from the garage opened and Sam tromped into the mudroom adjacent to the kitchen.
“You look like a snowman.” She lifted her hands, one still holding the tea towel, wanting to help but not knowing how.
His hood was up, and he’d tied a scarf around the lower part of his face, leaving only the eyes uncovered. Snow and ice covered his coat and the insulated rubber boots that went to his knees. “It’s really coming down now. But it’s the wind that’s making it so much worse.”
“It took you all this time to clean off their cars?” It seemed like forever ago that Stella had heard the engines roar to life. When Sam hadn’t come in, she’d kept busy and tried not to worry.
“I made sure the horses had everything they needed.” Despite the scarf, his cheeks were reddened from the cold.
After pulling off the gloves, he pushed back the hood and removed the stocking cap, revealing hair standing in dark, spiky tufts.
The coat came off before Sam moved on to the rubber boots. He heaved a sigh when the second boot hit the floor. “I’m glad that’s done. I don’t want to go out in that weather anytime soon.”
Stella felt a tingle of excitement. “Does that mean you won’t be taking me back to Holly Pointe tonight?”
His fingers stilled on the boots he was moving to the side. He looked up at her. “Do you want to go home tonight?”
“Not particularly.” She smiled, feeling cheerful. “I’d much rather stay here and spend time with you.”
“Good.” His lips lifted in a slow smile.
“In one of your many bedrooms.”
The smile faded then reappeared. “That’s okay. There’s a lot to choose from.”
“Unless you’re the sharing type.”
He inclined his head, a look of watchful waiting on his face.
“I mean, there’s no need to mess up another bed if you’re willing to share yours.”
Light flared in his dark eyes.
“But first.” She stepped to him and began to unbutton his shirt, her gaze never leaving his. “I think a hot shower would feel awfully good to someone who just spent the last forty-five minutes in a snowstorm.”
“There’s just one thing.” His eyes never left hers as he pulled her to him.
Fighting a smile, Stella gazed up him through lowered lashes. “What is that?”
“I’d not only like to share my bed.” He brushed her lips with his, a tantalizing promise in the touch. “I’d like to share my shower. With you.”
Chapter Eighteen
The time spent in the shower with Sam was a delicious appetizer that Stella thought had completely quenched her hunger. Until the shower ended and they moved to his bed.
A bed that was as big and massive as the man himself. The snow continued to fall outside, but Stella didn’t care as Sam lay beside her and kissed her until the heat she had been convinced was sated in the shower began to stir again.
“Are you sure you have enough condoms?” she murmured as his lips moved down her neck.
When he stopped kissing her, Stella worried she’d killed the mood with her practical question.
But the pill had never agreed with her system, and she needed to know they were safe. Safe in the shower. Now safe here in bed.
He brushed a lock of hair back from her face. “Thanks to a Duane Reade near my parents’ apartment—and my forethought—we don’t need to worry about running out.”
“If I’d been thinking ahead, I’d have brought along the package I purchased in Jay this week.”
“You bought condoms?” Amusement laced his voice.
“After our, ah, close encounter last Saturday, I could see where this train was headed.” She met his gaze, feeling defensive. “I wanted to be prepared.”
“I like that about you.” He kissed the tip of her nose, and she relaxed back against the pillow.
“You like that I’m prepared.”
“Actually, I like everything about you.”
“You don’t know everything.”
When he looked at her with a puzzled expression, she backpedaled. “I mean, we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks. Not nearly enough time to know everything.”
“I know the important stuff.” His lips curved. “I feel closer to you in the short time we’ve been together than I do to people I’ve known for years.”
“It’s the same with me.” Stella was doubly glad she’d told Jane earlier that she wouldn’t be doing the story.
Now no one would know she’d once been set to destroy this wonderful town with an article touting a drunk Santa and . . .
Stella abruptly pushed to one elbow, nearly clipping Sam in the jaw. “I forgot to ask if you’ve had a chance to speak with Kenny.”
Sam hesitated. “As it’s a personnel matter, I really shouldn’t be discussing the situation with anyone other than the head of human relations and perhaps the mayor.”
“Personnel matter.” A knot formed in the pit of Stella’s stomach. “Did you fire him?”
“No. No.” Sam spoke quickly. “Okay, I spoke with Kenny privately and mentioned that someone had observed him drinking alcohol while in his Santa suit.”
Sam paused, as if unsure how much more to reveal.
“You don’t have to tell me what he said.” Stella rested her fingers on Sam’s arms, finding the warmth of his skin comforting. “Just reassure me that everything is going to be okay for Kenny.”
“Everything is going to be okay.”
Stella closed her eyes and expelled a ragged breath. “I was so worried. I found myself second-guessing my decision to come to you all week.”
“You did the right thing in coming to me before Kenny did something where we’d have no choice but to fire him.” Sam’s eyes were dark and intense. “I want you to know that there isn’t anything you can’t tell me. Whatever problem or concern you have, we’ll work through it together. It’s the secrets and lies that kill a relationship.”
A startled look crossed his face. “Why would you think that?”
She lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug.
“Britt is a wonderful woman; smart and charming and extremely talented.”
Stella wished she’d kept her mouth shut. And wished he’d kept his shut, too. She couldn’t imagine anything could be worse than lying naked in bed next to a guy and listening to him praise his ex-girlfriend.
“If she’s so wonderful, why did the two of you break up?”
She heard the peevish note to her voice and was sure he had as well. Great, now she sounded supersensitive and insecure.
“The connection I was talking about a few minutes ago, the one I felt almost instantly with you, was never there.”
“Never?” Stella shot him a skeptical look. “You dated her for nearly two years.”
“We dated long-distance for much of that time.” He reached over and pulled Stella to him as if needing the closeness.
Stella loved how they fit so perfectly together.
“For all Britt’s wonderful qualities, something was missing in our relationship.”
“Did you think she was using you to get to your parents?” Once again, Stella wondered when her mouth had become detached from her brain.
He jerked back. “Where did you get that idea?”
“There were lots of articles hinting at that. Especially when your parents cast her in their new play.”
“They cast her in the lead role because she was the perfect choice.” There was a determined gleam in his eyes. “She did not use me, and I didn’t use her. It was just one of those relationships not meant to go the distance. I’m sure you’ve had a few of those.”
“I dated a guy who was married.” Yep, her brain was detached.
Sam stilled.
“I didn’t know Tony was married. He didn’t wear a ring, and he said he was single.” Stella’s chuckle held little humor. The idea that she could have been so ignorant still rankled. “Even though, looking back, there were signs I missed—or ignored—I was seriously shocked when I discovered the truth.”