by Jaci Burton
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
He gave her a half smile. “Okay. Can we talk about it then?”
She shouldn’t do this, but she already knew she was going to, because she hated leaving things unfinished. “Come by the house after work.”
“Okay.” He looked down at his feet. “I’ll have the dog.”
“Not My Dog is always invited to my house.”
“I get the idea you mean that I’m not always invited.”
“We can discuss that part later as well. I really have to go.”
“Sure. Bye, Sam.” He took a step back, allowing her to roll up her window and drive away. He stood there watching while she turned the corner.
She was even more confused. She was still angry with him, but she had no idea why. And he was so damned attractive she had all these conflicting emotions swirling around her insides.
And now he was coming over to her house later.
Great. She made a mental note to stop at the grocery store and pick up some items to cook.
No. Screw that. She was mad, and she wasn’t cooking.
They’d order pizza.
Chapter 13
ADMITTEDLY, REID WAS nervous about stopping by Sam’s place that night. He had no idea what he’d done to piss her off. Sam had always been laid-back and friendly, but ever since that night at the ranch, she’d avoided him.
He needed to know why. He didn’t know why it was important to know, but for some reason, it was.
Not My Dog jumped out of the truck and followed him to Sam’s front door, then sat by his side while he rang the bell. He looked down at the dog.
“Best behavior, okay?”
The dog gave him a cocked-head look: Dude, I’m not the one in trouble here.
“Yeah, you’re right about that.”
The door opened and Sam stood there, her beautiful blond hair pulled up in a high ponytail. She wore capri pants, a gray, long-sleeved shirt, and pink tennis shoes. Damn, she looked pretty. So distractingly pretty, he wanted to pull her against him and kiss her and pretend there was no tension between them.
That wasn’t likely to happen, so he settled on a smile.
“Hi, Sam.”
“Hey. Come on in.”
“Thanks.” Not My Dog followed right behind him, and when Sam told Reid to take a seat, the dog followed, made a couple of circles, then lay down next to the sofa and rested his face on his paws.
Sam took a spot on the floor next to the dog, obviously stating her preference for companions. She rubbed the dog’s ears and looked up at Reid. “How was your day?”
“There are some issues we have to deal with, but nothing unexpected.”
“Nothing that’ll affect your timeline, I hope?”
“No. Demo has been completed. Now it’s all internal work, like plumbing, electrical, and the like.”
“Good to know.”
“You could come by and I could show you what we’ve done so far.”
“We’ll see.”
Yeah, she was definitely upset with him, because last week she wanted nothing more than to see the inside of the mercantile. Now she seemed disinterested.
“Okay, what did I do to make you mad?”
“It’s not so much mad as it is disappointed. At the dinner party you made fun of my gender.”
His brows shot up. “I did? When did I do that?”
“You were talking about your mother. I made a comment about the pain you must be in. You laughed and said I must have learned that from some women’s channel, where all problems are tied up in ninety-minute movies.”
“Oh. Shit.” He remembered that conversation, and he’d obviously hurt her. “That was an off-the-cuff remark and was insensitive as hell of me. I’m really sorry, Sam. I don’t know why I said that.”
“Maybe because you believe it?”
“No. That’s not it at all. I tend to get defensive when the topic of my mother comes up. As you can probably imagine, it’s a pretty sensitive subject for all of us McCormacks. But that doesn’t excuse my bad behavior or the things I said to you. Please forgive me for being a complete asshole that night.”
She cocked her head to the side. “I was prepared to stay mad at you, but as apologies go, that was a pretty good one.”
He felt a flood of relief. “So I’m forgiven?”
“Mostly. As your punishment, we’re having pizza for dinner and then we’re watching one of those movies on the so-called women’s channel.”
He laughed. “I guess I deserve that.”
She grabbed her phone from the coffee table. “What kind of pizza would you like?”
“Since this is my night of contrition, I’ll let you choose.”
“Are you sure about that? What if I like eggplant on my pizza?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Do they even offer eggplant as a topping?”
“I have no idea. Would you eat it if they did?”
“I eat pretty much anything. Go for it.”
She scrolled through her contacts list and pressed the button, then waited. “Marjorie? Hey, it’s Sam Reasor. I’d like a large hamburger and pepperoni with extra cheese, delivered.”
His kind of woman.
When she hung up, she looked up at him.
“What? No eggplant?” he asked.
“Funny. And no eggplant.”
“Good.”
After patting Not My Dog again, she stood. “Would you like something to drink? I have beer, wine, soda, and water.”
After that tense conversation, he needed to unwind. “I’d definitely go for a beer.”
“Okay.”
She went into the kitchen, and he glanced down at the dog, who looked perfectly content to be asleep on the floor. Normally the ranch dogs lived and slept outside, so this was a treat for him.
“Yeah, you’re living the life right now, aren’t you, bud?”
The dog responded with a loud snore.
“Here you go.” She handed him the can of beer and set down the glass of wine she’d made for herself on the table. She kicked off her tennis shoes and curled her feet up under her on the sofa.
“So, about my mom,” he started.
She put up her hand. “You don’t need to offer me any explanation about your mother. It’s none of my business, and now it’s my turn to apologize for trying to interfere in your personal life.”
He got up and went to sit next to her on the sofa, then set his beer down on a coaster on the coffee table. “You weren’t interfering. You were telling me you cared by offering emotional advice. And I was a complete jackass about it. Did I mention I was sorry?”
She looked at him with those beautiful, honest blue eyes—eyes he could so easily get lost in.
“Yes. Apology accepted. I know how hard it is to talk about emotional things. Especially for men. You tend to hold it all inside.”
He opened his mouth, about to deny her statement, then surprised himself by saying, “You’re probably right. It hurt when she left. I’ll admit that. But I was being honest when I said it’s not something I lose sleep over. Martha’s been a fantastic mother to all of us. She always has been. So I’m not bearing any deep emotional scars. Honest.”
She cocked her head to the side and studied him. “You know what? I believe that. If anyone could seriously mother a bunch of unruly boys, and give them all the love they could ever want or need, it’s Martha.”
He laughed. “You’re right about that. I don’t feel I missed out on anything.”
“Good. I’m really happy about that.”
He was glad they’d gotten that straightened out. “Now tell me how your day went. You looked busy when I came by earlier.”
“Oh,” she said. “Yes. Today was a big day for birthdays and anniversaries. I delivered a lot of flowers to several very happy people.”
“Which must give you a lot of joy.”
She gave him a look. “Why, yes, actually, it does. My job is very fulfilling.”
“I w
asn’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. Ma
ybe. 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 laughed. “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.
