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When I woke shortly after dawn like I almost always did, I knew I couldn’t let things continue the way they were with Sam. I had to tell her how I felt. If she didn’t feel the same, well, I’d have to accept it. What I couldn’t do was pretend for another moment that I hadn’t fallen in love with her. I knew exactly how much I was risking by doing so. Hers was one of the most important friendships in my life. I just couldn’t live another day settling for that alone. And her suggestion that we were like siblings nauseated me.
Last night, while stretched out on the most uncomfortable sofa ever made, I’d requested the help of the concierge via the online chat the inn offered, and after I gave her the sizes and types of attire we’d need, she assured me she’d handle it. When I reminded her my purchases would need to be delivered by seven this morning, she repeated it wouldn’t be a problem.
After checking my mobile when I woke up and finding a message saying the items I’d requested were in the office near where we checked in, I went downstairs under the guise of fetching coffee for Sam and myself—not that she was awake yet.
Before returning to our room, I wrote the note I’d tucked inside the lace panties. That alone had made me hard enough that walking to the lift would’ve been embarrassing if I’d encountered other guests.
Fortunately, by the time I was upstairs and about to enter our suite, fear that I was about to do the wrong thing had my excitement waning.
After speaking with me briefly—and awkwardly, I might add—Sam had gone to take a shower. I hadn’t expected her to come out of the bathroom as quickly as she did and catch me in nothing but my knickers. When she’d approached, grasped my neck, and brought my lips closer to hers, I could’ve sworn I heard angels singing.
As difficult as it was to refrain from making love to her then and there, I knew there wouldn’t be enough time for me to show her the depth of my feelings. It was important to Sam that we visit the church the man at the restaurant had mentioned last night. We also had a tentative meeting scheduled with the attorney handling Cena’s estate.
That’s where we were headed now, and Sam’s apprehension was palpable. I reached over and took her hand in mine, holding it the entirety of the drive.
When we arrived at the Lilacs, another SUV was parked near the house and lights inside had been turned on. After getting out, I walked around to open Sam’s door. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed horses in the pasture. I hoped Sam had missed that for now, since it was one more thing that caused her worry.
I put my arm around her shoulders as we walked up the porch steps. Just as we reached the top, a man opened the front door.
“Welcome,” he said, motioning for us to come inside. “I’m Paul Creola, Mrs. Covert’s attorney.”
I shook his hand and thanked him for cutting his trip short, then introduced myself and Sam.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the man said, studying her as if she looked familiar to him. “I lit a fire if you’d like to begin our meeting in the sitting room.”
“Thank you,” Sam murmured, following him.
The decor of the house was as I’d expected, and while dated, every piece of furniture had been meticulously maintained, as had the wood floors and the rugs covering them.
I watched Sam glance at the artwork and photos that hung on the walls. Framed images were also displayed on a grand piano in the back of the expansive room.
The attorney motioned for Sam to sit, but she walked over to the piano instead. When she got closer, she gasped.
“What is it?” I asked as she lifted one of the frames.
Her face was ashen. “This looks like me,” she said, handing over the black-and-white picture of a baby.
The attorney approached. “That’s Blanche, Cena and Manley’s daughter.”
Sam’s hands were shaking, and she appeared in shock. “Let’s sit,” I said, guiding her to the sofa.
“You do favor her,” the man said after we’d taken a seat. “There are other photos throughout the house of her as a child and teenager.”
“The minister mentioned she died of leukemia,” I commented.
The man nodded. “That was before my time, of course, but it coincides with things Mrs. Covert told me.”
“She has no other family?” Sam asked.
“She does not,” the man responded.
I glanced at Sam, and her eyes met mine. Something about the clipped way he spoke led me to believe he wasn’t being entirely forthcoming.
“You’re certain?” Sam asked.
He cleared his throat. “Yes. I’m certain.” Rather than look at either of us, he appeared to be staring at the piano. His demeanor suddenly shifted, and he pulled papers from a satchel that sat on the floor near where he’d taken a seat. They were the same ones Sam had received via the courier. “Shall we get to it?”
Like in the car, I took Sam’s hand in mine, stroking the back of it with the pad of my thumb. She’d stopped shaking but still appeared unsettled.
