Winter Dreams

by Robyn Neeley

  She ducked under the water, rinsing the shampoo from her hair, every touch a torturous reminder of how it felt to be under Sam’s talented ministrations. She thrashed her head from side to side, in a terrible hurry to finish, to get back to him.

  Screw conditioner. She couldn’t take the time. She slapped a handful of soap on her skin and slicked it across her body, using the slippery solution to get the job done as fast as possible. Her every thought, every need, was focused on that man in the next room and how badly she wanted to be with him. She’d stepped into the bathtub with every intention of worrying through what was about to happen. But Sam had made her forget all of that.

  Slipping her arms into the old flannel robe that smelled just like him, she belted the sash, hugged her belly and willed the butterflies to settle down. She felt like she’d been waiting for this one moment all her life. Emerging from a cloud of steam, spying Sam waiting for her by the edge of the bed, Wynter realized that, yes, she had been waiting just for this exact moment. She had to fight the urge to run across the carpet to him.

  • • •

  She exited the bathroom on a cloud of steam, the sweet smell of vanilla announcing her arrival. Turning to face her, Sam had to stifle a groan. Wynter was wearing his bathrobe. He’d never be able to wear it again without thinking of this moment, and how hot she looked in it. At this rate he was going to drool. He was going to embarrass himself and slurp all over her like a dog.

  Get it together, man! It’s Wynter. Which was exactly why his hormones were in overdrive and his nerves were frayed. Here was the woman he had dreamt of his whole life, the woman he had thought out of reach, an impossibility. Now she was in his bedroom, in his robe, wearing nothing beneath but a sultry smile.

  Suddenly the holiday candles couldn’t have been more appropriate. It was Christmas. It was his birthday. It was every holiday and special anniversary wrapped into one incredible evening. Sam took it all in, memorizing the pools of light, the mix of scents, the feel of the carpet beneath his feet, the rosy hue of Wynter’s glowing skin. He wanted to remember this night forever.

  Her footsteps faltered as she drew closer. Sam opened his arms, sighing as her body melted into his. His fingertips grazed over the slightly nubby fabric of his older-than-dirt robe. He had to fight the urge to tear the rag right off her. The only sound in the room was his own labored breathing. He slowed his movements, resting his chin on top of Wynter’s head as he took a moment to refocus. Dial it back, man. You’re going to scare the crap out of her.

  “Are you … Is this okay?” Her voice was barely audible, her hands sweeping across his shoulders and down his back in what he realized was meant to be a soothing gesture.

  She thought he was scared. He’d never been more ready in his life. Sam would have laughed if he didn’t think it would completely kill the mood.

  “This is so very much okay.” And he could tell the moment she saw the absolute sincerity in his eyes.

  Enough talking. Sam bit back a growl as he swept Wynter up against him, her toes scrabbling for purchase against the tops of his feet. He cut off her squeal with a searing kiss, his temperature rising when she hooked one leg behind him as though she were going to crawl up his body.

  Walking forward, he reached the bed, tumbling them both to the mattress. Wynter’s fingers crawled beneath his sweatshirt, tickling and teasing at the same time. He released her long enough to yank the fleece over his head. She pounced on his bare skin, as though she couldn’t get enough of the feel of it. Sam knew the grin on his face was ridiculously cheesy.

  He should be nervous. He should be worried about whether he was doing anything wrong. He’d waited his whole life for this moment. Surely there were ten million ways he could screw it up. But one look at Wynter, her eyes shining with excitement, her hands unable to keep still, Sam knew he had nothing to fear.

  Kissing a trail down her neck, he parted the robe, pushing the fabric off one creamy shoulder. She shivered. Uncovering more skin, Sam traveled lower, kissing here, darting his tongue out there. He was about to draw one rosy nipple into his mouth when he felt Wynter tense, her small hands suddenly pushing against his shoulders. What was the matter?

  She looked down at him, her head twitching in a slight back and forth motion, embarrassment etched into her features. It took Sam’s passion-filled brain a moment to process this response. And then he too was embarrassed. He tried to look away but Wynter cupped his head in her hands and pulled him back up, until they were face to face again. She laid a kiss on him that brought him right back to that spot where he couldn’t remember his own name.

  Within moments they were entwined, skin on skin. The contrast, his rough and coarse, to her silken and soft, was mind blowing. Sam could go on touching this gorgeous woman forever. But when her bold hand reached down to stroke him, he knew there were more intimate treasures to explore. She rolled to her back, invitation clearly written into the gesture, as her questing fingers never let go of their prize.

  This was it. Just seconds before, Sam’s lungs were working like bellows, his breath coming hard and fast. Now, as he looked down at the woman he knew he never wanted to live without, stars danced in front of his eyes from lack of oxygen.

  “Breathe, baby,” she coaxed.

  And he did. His brief moment of overwhelming fear dissipated as quickly as it had come on. Bracing on his arms, Sam rose above Wynter. Their eyes locked. He poured his feelings into that one look, his love, his trust, his vulnerability. He gave her everything.

  “I love you, Sam.”

  On those words he joined with her, experiencing the headiest rush he’d ever felt in his life. This was what he’d been waiting for. And it was more than worth the wait. This was where he belonged, where he was meant to be. Cushioned in warmth, surrounded by the intoxicating aroma of vanilla and Wynter, encouraged by the symphony of her cooing, moans, and soft sighs, Sam felt himself racing toward a pinnacle he wasn’t ready to reach. If he could freeze any moment in time, this would be the one.

  This first time together came to a peak, and they were both replete, chests rising and falling in tandem as they fought to catch their breath. Wynter’s head rested on his shoulder, her spiky hair tickling him under the chin. She’d thrown a leg over his and curled an arm across his body. She hummed softly in his ear, a sound of pure contentment.

  Drowsy, Sam fought to stay awake. He knew men got a bad rap for not holding up their end of things, be it post-coital conversation or cuddling, and he didn’t want to start out being like ‘those men.’ Then he realized that humming he’d recently found so adorable had turned into an even more charming snore. She’d fallen asleep before him!

  So much for the requisite, ‘Was it good for you?’ conversation. Darned if he didn’t feel just a bit disappointed. Grinning at the direction of his thoughts, Sam chuckled to himself, resolving to use the opportunity to tease Wyn just a little bit, come morning.

  He knew they only had an hour or so to nap before Charlotte woke for her next feeding. Shaking off the drowsiness in order to keep his girls safe, Sam got up and blew out all the candles before climbing back into bed. He hauled Wynter across his chest and wrapped his arms around her, holding tight. As he drifted off to sleep, he thanked God for giving him a second chance with the woman of his dreams.

  Chapter 17

  This was it. She’d stained the built-ins a few days ago, and with Sam’s help got them all upstairs. Now all that was left was to load the new shelves with Riley’s vast collection of books. And hope her estimates were correct and there was enough room for everything—with room to grow. It had not escaped her notice that Riley had received five new shipments from eBay since she had started her cataloging project a few months ago.

  It had been so much fun that she almost felt bad about taking her new friend’s money. But she couldn’t lose sight of her goals at this point. She had socked away every nickel. Yeah, the built-ins had been a freebie. Unbelievably, Riley had been sitting on the materials all al
ong. Sam had chipped in for the wood stain. The labor had been pure love.

  Wynter looked over her hard work, nodding and smiling. Now this was an addiction she could get behind. Collecting books. Wistfully, she ran a hand over the deep cherry finish, imagining a custom set of built-ins for her own house. Someday.

  “When are you going to learn to read, Miss Princess?” She looked down at her daughter, strapped into her bouncy seat and kicking for all she was worth.

  The kid was off to a good start that was for sure. Just last night, Wynter had walked in to find Sam seated in her rocking chair, Charlotte cradled in one arm and a dog-eared copy of The Hobbit in his other hand. She’d leaned against the doorframe and was soon lost somewhere in Middle Earth. Sam’s voice rumbled deep when he spoke for Thorin, king of the dwarves. He pitched it higher, almost child-like, when in the role of Bilbo the hobbit. She could have listened to him read forever.

  “Sam sure spoils you, doesn’t he, Sweetness?” Wynter crooned.

  “’Course he does. He loves her.” She whirled around, a hand fluttering up to her throat.

  “You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that,” she snapped. Her heart was racing to catch up with the beats it had lost when it had jumped out of her chest.

  “Why not? It’s fun.” Riley flashed her a cheeky grin and a wink. She rolled her eyes. Heaven help the woman that ever saddled herself with this one!

  The motor on his chair whirred to life as he wheeled into the room. A drawn out whistle was Riley’s only comment as he inspected the empty shelving. Wynter watched him test the heights and smiled with him when he realized he’d have no problem reaching any of them.

  “Marry me, Wyn.” He placed a hand over his heart and batted his eyelashes.

  “I beg your pardon?” She scoffed off the attention, settling herself on the floor in front of the baby.

  “Unless Sam’s beat me to the punch?” He let the question hang, clearly hoping for some juicy tidbit of information.

  “You’re incorrigible. You know that, right?”

  “Only a matter of time, really. I mean the guy has loved you since the dawn of time.” Riley had drawn up beside the bouncy seat, forcing Wynter to look up in order to converse with him.

  “He … We’re … Things are good, but … I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” For reasons she couldn’t understand, Wynter felt a prick of guilt.

  “Surely he’s told you that he had a thing for you in high school, right?” She narrowed her eyes and waited for him to continue. “He was going to tell you the night his parents died. It was why he’d snuck over to see you.”

  She knew she should be embarrassed that Sam had discussed this with Riley, but who else did he have, really? Getting up, she paced to the window at the other end of the room. She could just make out Sam’s old farmhouse across the road.

  “No, he never told me that. He was nervous. I guess I just thought it had to do with college and graduating, the whole ‘now we’re grown ups’ thing.” She gripped the edge of the windowsill, staring out at the forsythia in the corner of the yard, the buds open just enough to reveal a peek of yellow.

  For the hundredth time since she’d descended on Braeden, Wynter wondered what might have been. She was becoming more and more convinced that if Sam had joined them at UCLA, as planned, things between them would have developed sooner. Her marriage to Holt would never have happened. She wouldn’t have settled for less than true love.

  When they were growing up, Sam had always encouraged her to dream big. They’d talk for hours about what they wanted out of life. He knew her love of books and her love of her hometown, and what the perfect marriage of those two passions would be like. He knew exactly how much she wanted to run that bookstore once Ruby felt ready to retire.

  Once Sam had disappeared, reaching out for her goals didn’t seem quite so important. She’d lost her spark, her drive. Holt was too busy chasing his own dreams to give much thought to hers. Holt’s dreams had kept them in California. It wasn’t until he was gone, until Wynter was desperate to find a solution that would keep her and her precious baby off the streets, that she thought about making her dreams a reality.

  Resting her forehead against the cool glass of the front window, Wynter could just make out the chirp of the robins, foraging for worms on the muddy lawn. She could hear Riley behind her, making silly noises to entertain Charlotte.

  These past few weeks with Sam had reminded her that they shared a special connection. He made her want to reach for the stars. He made her want to be the best mother she could be, the best provider for her little girl. Yet this time with him also showed her how much she needed Sam in her life again, in Charlotte’s life.

  She swept a troubled gaze around the room. Beyond getting the books up onto the shelves, there wasn’t anything more Wynter could do for Riley. The paltry sum she’d saved to move back to Scallop Shores wasn’t nearly enough to get her started. Not unless she knew she had a job and a place to stay. Why hadn’t she heard back from Ruby yet? The woman was a stickler for manners and would have felt obligated to answer, even if it was to let her down gently … again.

  And the more time she spent here in Braeden, the more she didn’t want to leave. Sam was here. Her sweet Sam. Riley too. Crusty ex-military with a gooey center. She felt closer to them than her own family. Surely it wouldn’t be considered settling if she were to stay for the people she had grown to love?

  Charlotte giggled, causing Wynter to whirl around and gasp. Riley had coaxed out her baby’s first real laugh. Her eyes met his, the shock and wonder she saw showing her that he understood the import of the situation. Unbuckling the seat, she scooped the infant into her arms, her own laughter bubbling to the surface.

  “You’ve reached a milestone, little one. Do you realize how amazing that is? You love your Uncle Riley, don’t you, baby girl? Mommy loves him too.”

  Curling her daughter against her side, Wynter wrapped her other arm around Riley, kissing him loudly on his whiskered cheek. He sputtered and slapped at her arm, but she could see that he was pleased.

  “Hey, what am I paying you for? Give me that little bundle of sugar and get to work putting my books away. Those shelves look downright naked.”

  Okay, so it wasn’t Scallop Shores, but the tiny town of Braeden had Sam and Riley. Maybe it was time to give it another shot. Sam had always told her to dream big. Well, here was a crazy idea: opening a bookstore right here in blink-and-you-miss-it downtown Braeden. How was that for big, Sam?

  • • •

  Sam opened the sticky plastic menu, closed it, then opened it again. He still wasn’t quite sure how they’d gotten here. In all the years he’d known Riley, the man had never left the safety and comfort of his own house. His friend kept a low profile, much like himself, so to see him sitting at this table, in the middle of a restaurant full of gawping strangers, really blew him away.

  As a matter of fact, the prickly marine that he’d known and loved had turned into more of a teddy bear now that Wynter and Charlotte were around. He sort of missed the barking and snarling that indicated Riley was in a good mood. Before, when he was in a snit, he’d just lock Sam out.

  Sure, he looked uncomfortable as hell, sitting here in full view of the scattering of townsfolk that stared as though they had never seen a man in a wheelchair before. But he was here. This was monumental. This was … eerie. Sam looked down at the table, where Wynter covered one of Riley’s hands with her own. A lifeline. God, he loved her.

  “Save room for dessert, gentlemen. I heard the pies are to die for.” Her smile was beatific.

  “Perfect. I’d like to die about now.” Riley stuck a finger in between his T-shirt and his Adam’s apple, pulling it away like it was choking him.

  “Oh, you’re doing just fine. Ignore those bad-mannered busybodies. They just don’t know you yet.”

  “Who says I want to give them the chance?” Riley hunched down in his chair, a childish pout on his full lips.


  “I’m with Ri on this, babe. You’ve got to admit this atmosphere is a little … creepy.” Sam arched a brow, daring her to prove him wrong.

  “Hey, I’m not the one who chose this town to hide out in. Creepy is as creepy does.”

  Her laughter trilled out. Sam shook his head, sharing a brief look with Riley before focusing his attention on the menu.

  “Oh, look Riley. They have meatloaf. I wonder if it’s as good as your mother used to make.” At Sam’s blank stare, Wynter added, “It’s his favorite dinner. What he always used to ask for on his birthday.”

  He always thought chili was Riley’s favorite dinner. When had Wynter become the expert on all things Riley Tucker? And when had Sam started treating it like a competition? The baby began to fuss in her car seat and Sam automatically reached out a toe to set it in motion.

  Tuning out the nosy restaurant patrons, he took stock of his surroundings. God, when was the last time he’d eaten a meal out? Here? Never. Bubblegum-popping oldies music scratched out of the speakers. Cherry red vinyl covered nearly every surface. Their waitress glared at them from the counter, her beehive hairdo as stiff as her spine. An assortment of pies perched by the register, supported on thick, glass pedestals.

  “What are you getting, Sam?”

  “Hmm?” He pulled his gaze away from a larger-than-life print of Elvis.

  “The menu? What are you going to order?” Wynter’s mouth twitched.

  They were out of their element, him and Riley both. She had to be enjoying this.

  “What are we doing here, again?” He tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice. Wynter never did anything for purely selfish means. She always had their best interests at heart.

  “We’re celebrating.” She beamed.