Winter Dreams

by Robyn Neeley

  “Staying with a friend, actually. We’ve been here a few months now. Well, I have.” She gave the baby carrier a little bounce with her toe. “This little one only arrived about six weeks ago.”

  “Never seen ya before.”

  “Well, with Sam living out on Rockford Road, we kept getting snowed in. Not really sightseeing weather.”

  “Sam?” The waitress frowned.

  “Sam Dennis. He’s lived here for about eight years now, I guess.”

  “Nah. Never heard of him.”

  “How about Riley Tucker? They live across the street from each other.”

  “Nope. Him neither.”

  Unsure what else to say, Wynter held out the menu. She ordered an English muffin, no butter and a slice of cheese. Her waitress frowned, like she wanted to say there was a minimum order and if she wanted to eat there, she’d have to order more food.

  The baby started to fuss and Wynter wished she could join her. She rocked the car seat back and forth. Why would Sam punish himself like this? Hide in a town where no one seemed to know, or care, that he even existed. This was awful.

  In Scallop Shores, he’d been loved by all. He’d been on the basketball team and the baseball team, rubbing elbows with the jocks. Proud geek, he had been the one to start a chess club in high school and won trophies for math club. His family hailed back so far, Wynter wouldn’t be surprised if they were some of the town’s founding fathers.

  Mr. Dennis had been the town vet, practicing out of an old house in town that had been in his family for generations. Sam’s mom had been the police dispatcher, the voice everyone heard over their scanners whenever the police were summoned, which in their town was rarely for anything exciting. It was with bitter irony that Wynter realized the most action Scallop Shores had seen, while she’d been living there, was the call that the Dennises had asphyxiated in their sleep.

  That was Sam’s last memory of his hometown. Hers, as well, practically. But while it was enough to keep him away for the rest of his life, it did nothing to curb her homesickness. She still wanted to go back, now more than ever. But how to get Sam away from this awful place he chose to serve his penance? She really hoped she heard back from Ruby soon. If anyone could help her convince Sam to move back home, it was his grandmother.

  • • •

  If he didn’t stop and take a break, his eyes were going to permanently cross. Sam pushed off against the edge of the desk, sending his chair flying back a few feet. Because it was fun, he did it again. Remembering the reason he’d barricaded himself in his office sobered his mood.

  Sure he’d been avoiding her but Wynter, being Wynter, was supposed to come in and get in his face. It was what she did. It was their routine. He tried to hide from the things that made him uncomfortable and she forced him to deal with it. So where was she?

  The house was quiet. He hadn’t heard Charlotte crying in a while. It was hardly likely that they were just napping together. They must be out. And she hadn’t told him she was leaving. Good grief! They weren’t an old married couple. How many times had he said exactly that to Riley? So why was he working himself into a snit now at the possibility she’d gone out without him?

  Get used to it, Sammy boy. This is what it was like before she got here. This is what it’s going to be like when she moves back to Scallop Shores. Leaning his head back against the leather chair, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. His computer went into sleep mode and a photo of Wynter and the baby popped up on his screensaver.

  She thought he’d told her everything about that night. She thought she understood his guilt. She had no clue he had really been in her room to finally admit his feelings for her. And there was no reason to tell her now. So why did he feel sneaky, as though he was hiding something from her?

  A form of self-flagellation, Sam’s mind went into the old ‘what if’ scenario. What if he’d had the nerve to tell Wynter he loved her that night? Would she have returned his feelings? Would he have been so anxious to run, to escape Scallop Shores and everyone that reminded him of his parents and the fact that he’d cheated death? Would she have made more of an effort to find him when he first left, not twelve years after the fact? And the kicker, would Wynter have chosen Sam over Holt? Married him? Had his baby?

  It shouldn’t even matter at this point. Sam growled, banging a fist on the armrest. He was hanging on to the past and it had to stop. Scrubbing his hands over his stubbled face, he shook his head. He needed a shower—and a toothbrush. It was time to let go of the ‘what ifs’ and start focusing on the ‘what could bes.’

  After he’d showered, shaved, and sucked down a scalding cup of coffee, Sam went in search of his girls. Yeah, they were his now and it was time to figure out a way to keep Wynter in his life.

  His SUV was still in the barn so they couldn’t have gone far. He’d seen the stroller, still folded, and leaning against the wall by the back door. It appeared that Riley had a couple of guests. Well, his buddy was about to get one more.

  “Lucy, I’m home!” Sam let himself into Riley’s kitchen.

  “Go away, I have a date.” Riley’s voice came from somewhere in the front of the house.

  Sam listened for Wynter’s responding laugh, a comment, anything. Where was she? He stalked down the hall, finding his friend in the living room, a biography on Abraham Lincoln open in his lap, and Charlotte nestled in the crook of his arm.

  “Where’s Wyn?”

  “You thought she was who I was talking about when I said date, huh?” Riley’s wolfish grin grew huge. “You were jealous.” His laughter grated on Sam’s nerves.

  “Shut up. Where is she?”

  “Finally taking back what is yours, huh? Good for you, man.” Riley nodded his head toward the hallway. “She went down in the basement. Said she has a surprise for me. Lots of racket. I have no idea.” Riley shook his head.

  As if on cue, a table saw whined loud enough to reach their ears. What the hell? Sam scrunched his nose and sent Riley a confused look. The other man shrugged his shoulders.

  “I told you. Big racket. Been at it all morning. Tell her she better plan on cleaning up after herself. It’s not like I have a way of getting down to that basement any time in the near future.”

  “I’ll see what’s going on. You good here?”

  “Yeah. My date lets me do all the talking. I think this one’s a keeper.” Riley kissed the top of Charlotte’s downy head. “Go get her, Romeo.”

  Sam strode for the stairs to the basement, his heart racing with worry that Wynter was taking on something far too dangerous for her to handle.

  The buzzing of the saw cut off before he reached the bottom of the stairs. He steeled himself for a fight with the most stubborn woman he’d ever met. Rounding the corner, he opened his mouth to tell her exactly how crazy he thought she was to be messing with power tools, and let it hang. There might have been drool involved.

  “Hey, I see you’re out of your cave. No telling Riley what I’m up to, you hear?”

  Nope. He wouldn’t say a word. Mostly because all his blood had rushed to regions south. He’d lost all feeling in the upper half of his body, while the lower half was uncomfortably … stiff.

  She stood behind a table saw, safety glasses covering her eyes. His old blue plaid flannel, barely covering a tiny white tank top, was tied in a knot at her waist. Sam looked her up and down, licking his lips as his imagination went into overdrive. She needed a tool belt. Yes. And work boots. Oh, and cut-off jeans.

  “Yoo-hoo? Earth to Sam. You in there?” She’d lifted the glasses to the top of her head and set her hands on her hips.

  “You’ve picked up some interesting new skills since high school.” Sam worked his tongue around the inside of his mouth. His words felt slurred, his head definitely fuzzy.

  “Who knew, right?” She hefted a stack of boards, cut to size, to the workbench against the wall. “Turns out I can DIY like a pro. Guess all those home improvement shows I’ve been watching have paid off.” She
winked as she picked up a drill and Sam had to bite back a moan.

  “So what’s the project?” He managed to squeeze out the question.

  “Riley’s got all those books and no place to store them. I’m putting some built-in shelving on either side of the big picture window in the living room. It all has to be waist-level, so I may just wrap it around the whole room.”

  “He’s a lucky guy.” Sam’s sentiment was genuine.

  “Jealous?” She flipped the safety glasses into place with a grin and gave the drill a brief whir.

  Sam’s feet were moving before he realized his intent. He grabbed the drill from Wynter’s hand and set it on the bench. Slowly, he lifted the heavy plastic from her eyes, smiling with satisfaction when he realized her hooded gaze surely matched his own. He backed her up against the workbench, their bodies fitting together like a jigsaw puzzle. Just imagine what it would be like without clothing?

  “Nah. Not jealous. It’s just the two of us down here, and Riley can’t make it down the stairs.”

  Knowing she was about to scold him for his unkind words, Sam captured her lips before she could speak. He could smell her lavender body wash. He tasted her peppermint chewing gum, stealing it out of her mouth with a swipe of his tongue. Her throaty chuckle had him straining to get closer still.

  Never breaking their kiss, he swept Wynter up in his arms. She wrapped her legs around him. Yes. Just like that. Sam didn’t even have to tell her what he liked.

  He broke the kiss so that he could explore more of her, taste her sweet skin. Drawing her earlobe into his mouth, he sucked harder when her breathy sigh turned into a soft mewling. Their bodies were so close but he needed to be closer still. His hand was at the snap on her jeans when he realized what he was doing.

  He’d waited this long, for this amazing woman. He’d saved himself for her. He knew that now. His first sexual experience was supposed to be with Wynter. But not like this. He wouldn’t take her in someone else’s dank basement. This was not the memory he wanted to create for his first time.

  “I want you.” He rested his forehead against her shoulder, taking long shuddering breaths and willing his body to calm down.

  “I want you, too.” Her fingers found him through the rough fabric of his jeans and it took everything he had to reach down and curl his hand around hers.

  “But not like this, Wyn. You deserve better than this.”

  “It’s okay.” His body cheered as she tried to convince him with her words, and her actions, that they should continue.

  “We deserve better than this.” He couldn’t even believe his brain was still functioning at this point.

  Wynter unhooked her heels from behind him, lifting his head to place a soft kiss on his mouth. She held his face between her hands as she studied him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes overly bright. In her expression he read frustration and a promise that they would pick up where they’d left off. But she wasn’t angry.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he loved her. But he didn’t want to scare her. For all he knew, her interest in him was purely physical. At least this way, by keeping silent, he wouldn’t have to find out. It was his heart’s way of protecting itself, should his plans for the future not come to fruition.

  Chapter 15

  “You didn’t have to come all this way with me. I would have been good, just borrowing your truck.”

  Wynter set the baby, in her car seat, on the floor beside her chair and sat down. Sam perused the stack of magazines on the side table, selected one and laid it in her lap, before claiming the seat beside her. This was just too … comfortable. Her head screamed that it was high time she start thinking and acting independently. She was a single mom, after all. Her heart told her to grab onto Sam and not let go.

  “You’re welcome.” He patted her knee. Oh, honestly!

  “Wynter Grayson?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind watching …? ” Wynter’s voice trailed off as Sam stood, lifting the baby carrier, and headed for the smiling nurse. Alright then.

  “So, I hear you thought you were too good for our little hospital? Decided to do things all on your own?” The nurse grinned. “Usually happens around here once or twice every winter. Moms think they have enough time and then Mother Nature throws a curve ball at ’em.”

  “It wasn’t as scary as I expected it to be,” Wynter admitted.

  “Ah, then you had a good man there helping you.” The nurse winked at Sam, who ducked his head shyly.

  She left them alone so Wynter could slip into the rough, paper gown. Sam turned his back to give her privacy, focusing instead on Charlotte, who had chosen that moment to wake up from her morning nap. After yesterday’s heated interlude, Wynter was more than a little disappointed that he didn’t even try to catch a peek. And now she was disgusted with herself for bothering to care.

  The doctor bustled in after a brief tap at the door. She headed straight for the baby, cooing and clucking and marveling at how alert she was. With a wistful sigh and a hand on her chest, she turned to address Wynter.

  “You done good, Mama. How are you feeling?”

  “A little tired.”

  “Any more bleeding?”

  Wynter blushed, blurting out, “No, that stopped a few weeks ago.”

  “I don’t have to ask if your milk supply is doing well. Those chubby cheeks tell me she’s getting plenty to eat.” The woman threw a grin over her shoulder at the baby.

  She had Wynter slide to the edge of the table for her exam. Sam had moved the one chair in the room to the opposite corner. This time Wynter was grateful he couldn’t see. She glanced over to find him watching her, smiling. Okay, she was happy that he’d come to the appointment.

  “You’re healing up just fine. You’ve gotten past the first six weeks, so you can resume sexual activity. Would you like me to write a prescription for some birth control?”

  “Oh, we’re not … I don’t need … ” Wynter was mortified.

  “I understand. Some couples have difficulty being intimate again after childbirth. Especially given your circumstances, where your husband delivered the baby.”

  “He’s not my husband,” she said, miserably.

  “No one is judging.”

  Wynter threw a look at Sam, her eyes pleading for him to rescue her.

  “She’ll take the prescription, Doctor.”

  Damn him.

  The ride home was quiet. Wynter squirmed in her seat, so many emotions vying for top billing that her head swam. Excitement over the possibility of sex with Sam had her body throbbing. Guilt over the fact that she’d never felt this giddy with Holt was like a lead weight, dragging her down. Hope for a future with a man she was beginning to realize she couldn’t live without sang in her veins. And just to balance things out evenly, dread wrapped a heavy blanket around the whole package, reminding her that in order to achieve her dream of moving back to Scallop Shores, she’d have to leave Sam behind.

  “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, put you on the spot.” He’d pulled into the driveway, shut off the car and turned to face her.

  She didn’t want to do this now. Sitting in the enclosed space, she felt vulnerable, nervous.

  “I’m fine.” The words came out on a shaky squeak. Good Lord.

  “Look, all I meant was that it would be smart to fill the prescription.” He paused, not speaking again until Wynter met his gaze. “We both know it’s going to happen. Some day.”

  She licked her lips, her mouth like dust. She nodded.

  “Yeah, some day.”

  Sam chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through the truck’s cab. Her body quivered in response. He thought this was funny? He was making light of her sudden bout of nerves?

  He must have seen the storm clouds gathering in her expression, the scowl pulling her eyebrows down. He held his hands out in front of him, shaking his head.

  “Hey, don’t misunderstand me. It’s just that I have a much bigger reason for being terr
ified about all this.”

  “What could you have to be terrified about?” She scoffed. “You’re a guy. Guys think about sex … What’s the statistic?” Wynter waved her hand flippantly.

  “Let’s just say I have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Oh. Of course. I get it. It’s been a while for you.” She blushed, realizing what he was getting at. “You were a hermit before I forced myself back into your life.”

  Sam faced the windshield, stretching his legs out as much as he could beneath the steering wheel. Wynter studied his profile, his jaw tight, like he was grinding his back teeth. His eyes were closed.

  “It’s okay. We don’t have to do this right now. Let’s just go inside—” She put her hand out to open the door and let out a little squeal when Sam reached for her knee to stop her.

  “No. You need to hear this. It might … change things. You might decide you don’t want this anymore.”

  Her heart began to thud painfully. Where was he going with this? Was he going to tell her about some venereal disease? Did he have some kinky fetish? Was it hot in here? She felt the walls of the truck closing in on her and couldn’t draw a full breath of air into her lungs.

  “I don’t know what you’re imagining, Wyn, but it’s not like that.” His smile was crooked, but it was there.

  “Just spit it out. You’re killing me here!”

  “I just wanted to warn you that I’m not the most experienced guy around.” He chewed on his lower lip, his attention focused on the hand that still gripped her knee.

  She lifted his hand, taking it with both of her own. She brushed a thumb over the tiny hairs across his knuckles. Turning in her seat, she waited until he met her eyes. He looked so troubled. He wanted her approval.

  “Sam. It’s not like I have much to compare you to. I’ve only ever been with Holt.” She paused. “I guess I just assumed you knew that.”

  “Well, that’s one more person than I’ve been with.” He tried to tug his hand free and she could see him retreating inside, the shame he must have felt a living, pulsing force.