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Sam eyed her curiously. “What are you thinking over there?” he asked as he settled next to her, on the end of the raised counter.
“Honestly? That you’re wearing too many clothes.”
His laugh was light and stirring. But then as he reached for his coffee, his expression darkened. His eyes glowed seductively, though she didn’t miss the glimmer of something troubling around the fringes.
Scarlet debated whether she should make an inquiry as to the latter or let it lie.
But since beating around the bush wasn’t really her style, she bucked up and said, “You’re sending a lot of mixed signals, Sam.”
“Yeah.” He gave a slight nod. “I know.” He sipped his coffee, then set his mug aside. “On the one hand, I was sort of hoping you’d get lonely in that big bed all by yourself and come downstairs. Crawl under the covers with me, in front of the fire.”
She swallowed down some OJ and a lump of uncertainty before saying, “It’s not like the idea didn’t cross my mind. It was a very appealing notion. But you backed off after that kiss, so I figured me joining you wasn’t what you wanted.”
“It was exactly what I wanted,” he said with conviction, pinning her with a solid look. But as was usually the case, there was contradiction rimming his irises. “It was also not what I wanted.”
Needing to get to the heart of the matter, because Scarlet wasn’t one for riddles or games, she ventured, “This is about Cassidy, isn’t it? This was going to be her home. The two of you were going to live here.”
“She never set foot in this house,” he vehemently said, his sudden intensity taking Scarlet by surprise. “So there are no ghosts haunting me here.”
“But in your mind…?”
“I have reservations,” he confessed.
“You mean demons.”
He stared at her.
Scarlet told him, “I never, ever talk about my parents’ deaths. In fact, I rarely speak of them in general. I didn’t have much difficulty doing it with you last night. I can understand how you feel. I empathize with you. And I will admit that my inability to really process what happened to them and release all of my horror and pain makes it extremely hard for me to get close to people. It’s why I don’t date. Anything could happen, and I don’t feel I’m fully equipped to deal with another personal tragedy. But then again…”
She chewed over this new direction of conversation and a piece of sausage. Sam waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts. They were still a bit murky; her insides a bit tangled.
Eventually, Scarlet said, “I feel as though I know precisely what you’re going through. Maybe it’s not fully true, but I do have a good idea. And so I understand that you wanted to kiss me, but that you didn’t want to. That you wanted me to come to you last night. But that you didn’t want me to. The desire is there. But so, too, are the demons.”
“I’ve always been aggressive when it comes to my desires. No–holds–bared. But with you?” His eyes bored into her. “There’s something about you. Something that tells me it wouldn’t just be sex.”
“And that bothers you.”
“Bothers you, too,” he pointedly said. “Otherwise, you really would have crawled under the covers with me.”
Scarlet considered this as she finished her breakfast. She couldn’t deny he’d hit the nail on the head. The problem was, she couldn’t exactly say it was just sex with Michael, either. Because she continued to think of him. And wanted to explore more with him.
This was all getting very convoluted. Scarlet suspected a little advice and perspective from Jewel and Bayli might be in order.
But now wasn’t the time for that.
Sam pushed back his stool and stood. He collected dishes and took them to the sink to rinse them off and load them into the dishwasher. Scarlet helped him, not saying anything. Not entirely sure what it was she was supposed to say.
She relished the nearness of him. Inhaled his scent, purposely brushed her arm against his as they worked. Felt all the sparks and exhilaration he’d so easily incited from the second she’d gotten out of her rental and absorbed the full effect of Sam Reed.
Lover of horses. Rescuer of abused and abandoned puppies. Savior of damsels in distress. Builder of breathtaking homes.
He was like the Horse Whisperer, John Wayne, and Frank Lloyd Wright all rolled into one.
With the exterior of a Hugh Jackman–Chris Hemsworth mash-up.
It was no wonder she was having premature hot flashes.
Sam collected the silverware, put it in the basket, and turned on the cycle. Standing behind Scarlet, he reached around her on both sides to wash his hands at the sink she blocked.
