Chapter Twenty

It was late by the time Sam pulled into his driveway. His house was dark, smoke curling out of the chimney. She pictured him inside, sitting with Chloe, finishing a beer—having a perfectly fine time without her.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come. There was nothing they had to cover that couldn’t be done over email, handled by Steven and other intermediaries. They were over—he’d made that clear.

But there were some things, she’d realized, that were more important than her company, the development, her father’s plans, her need to return from Gold Mountain with Austin Reede’s signature to prove she’d done it, she was the boss, the one who got what she demanded every time.

Austin was more important than that. And his land, his home, his happiness. His life. She was here to keep him from making a huge mistake.

She was also here to offer him a proposal she hoped he’d at least consider—even if it meant helping her, and the Kanes.

He looked completely surprised when he answered the door. His hair was disheveled, like he might have fallen asleep on the couch. Sam had to force herself not to stare at how good he looked sleepy and undone.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

“Sam.” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I gave you what you wanted. Maybe we should leave it at that.”

He sounded so sad, Sam’s heart broke all over again. Yes, he’d given her what she hadn’t had the courage to ask for directly, in person, the way she’d originally planned. But even though she’d technically won, she felt like she’d lost everything.

“I can’t,” she said. “I know it’d be easier if I went back to Seattle and we never spoke again, but I can’t let this go.”

She stepped inside. The lights were dim, the fire flickering low in the fireplace. Chloe, curled in front of the warmth, glanced up, realized it was Sam, and tucked her head back down. The sight of her, peaceful and trusting, tugged at Sam’s heart. Chloe didn’t think of her as an interloper. She thought Sam belonged.

But Sam knew she didn’t. Her cream blouse and black slacks had been appropriate for the meeting with the Hendersons but now screamed outsider in Austin’s cozy home. She knew he saw it, too. How had she ever thought she could get away with not being Samantha E. Kane for even half a second, no matter how far she was from the skyscraper that bore her family’s name?

But it was too late for second thoughts. She was here, the blueprints were rolled in her hand, and a brand-new deal was signed. One shot to convince him, she reminded herself. What would her father say?

But she couldn’t ask herself that when what she was about to propose was nothing like the plan her father had. She was on her own now. She had been for the last three years, but it wasn’t until she’d stood in that office shaking Arthur Henderson’s hand that she truly understood it. She was the CEO, the one in charge. It was up to her to show Austin her vision and hope he’d understand the possibility she was laying at his feet.

She turned to face him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I don’t have a right to barge in here. I certainly don’t have the right to ask anything of you. So you don’t have to forgive me. But I still have to say it. I’m sorry.”

Austin’s lips tightened. She couldn’t read his expression. She’d expected him to be angry, maybe even refuse to see her. She hadn’t expected this sadness, the pain in his voice when he said, “Were you never planning on telling me? Were you just going to leave without another word, whenever you decided to head back to work?”

Sam stepped toward him but stopped before getting too close. She wanted to tell him she’d never do that, she’d never abandon him the way he’d been by his parents, coaches—everyone who was supposed to care for him when he was young.

But of course she couldn’t say that. Because wasn’t that exactly what she’d intended to do? Maybe not in those terms, maybe not once she’d started to fall for him. But she couldn’t say it had never crossed her mind.

“I don’t know what I was going to do,” she admitted. “Obviously this wasn’t something I’d planned. I really, really wanted to tell you—but at a certain point, I didn’t know how.”

But wasn’t that another lie? A thing she was supposed to say even though time and time again she’d gone out of her way to keep the truth from him? She’d been so sure she’d done the right thing, or the okay thing, or at least not the most horrible thing by not disclosing who she was and why she was there. But seeing the look in Austin’s eyes and hearing the platitudes come out of her mouth…

“No.” She shook her head. “You’re right. I’m past pretending—at least with you. I didn’t want to tell you. I was terrified you would find out. Because this time we’ve spent together, the way we are together—” She met his eyes. “I wanted you, Austin. Against my better judgment I wanted you, and I knew that if I told you who I was, you wouldn’t want me back. You and your friends would sit around talking about how much you hated me, how you’d fight me at all costs, and I’d never have a chance.”

He blinked. “A chance at what, Samantha?”

“Sam,” she said. “Please. The people who know me call me Sam. It’s only at work, in public, that I’m Samantha, and I don’t want to be that with you. I wasn’t making that up when I told you my name. It was the only name that fit from the moment I met you.”

“Answer the question, Sam,” he said, and she was so relieved to hear that word come out of his mouth, the same name he’d cried when he was inside her, the closest to her that anyone could be, that it didn’t matter how distant his voice was, how closed off he was from her now.

The force of the memory made her body pulse. It wasn’t fair how her heart could leap up on its own accord, oblivious to anything else. She had to remind herself to heel. This wasn’t the time.

Yet desire was a wayward child, reaching up, yearning, unable to understand why it couldn’t have what was right in front of it. What it so desperately craved.

“When I first met you, I’m pretty sure you knew exactly what I was looking for.” Heat rose to her face, but she didn’t stop talking. “You turned out to be more than a one-night thing, more than a pretty face and a few good laughs before I had to go. I know I blew it, Austin. I’m not going to pretend I don’t realize that.” She paused. “But I actually came here in person to show you something.”

“The papers?” He pointed to the blueprints she’d brought in.

“I might have at one point expected to give you a sales pitch. But there’s something else I want to share with you.”

She unrolled the blueprints on the kitchen table, using water glasses to weigh down the sides. He stood next to her, looking over her shoulder. She brushed her fingertips over his where he rested his palm on the corner of the blueprints and pulled away quickly, embarrassed by her sudden lapse.

“What is this?” Austin asked, like he hadn’t noticed her accidental brush even though she could tell by the strain in his voice that he had.

“These are the basic blueprints for the original Kane expansion.”

“Okay.”

“There’s your house, the woods, and the boundaries for the proposed condo development.”

He nodded, but he didn’t really seem to look. Sam pulled out a second sheet, a transparency, and unfolded it over the first. “This is just a sketch. I did it in the Hendersons’ offices, so it doesn’t look like much. I’m not an architect, I just hire them.” She tried to laugh at herself, but Austin’s expression stayed blank. “Okay, too soon,” she muttered. “But look, this is what I want to show you.”

She was in business mode now, running through the plan she’d come up with just that evening. Not what she’d said to the Hendersons when she first pitched them about the sale, words written up and pored over by lawyers, developers, architects, planners until the sentences twisted and spun, turning meaningless in her mind. Not at all what she would have said had she ever had that official sit-down with Mr. Reede. These were words she’d come up with on the spot, when all of a sudden it had hit her what had to be done. These were words she meant.

This wasn’t her father’s vision anymore, but her project through and through. She’d picked it up when she became CEO three years ago, but she had the power to shape it any way she saw fit. It was a tremendous responsibility. She could fail completely and disgrace not only herself but her father’s memory and the company name.

Or she could be the one to change everything for the good.

Sam pointed to the changes in the roads, the sections of land, the areas where Gold Mountain would expand. “I don’t understand what I’m looking at,” Austin said, running his finger south from the serpentine line Sam had drawn to represent the main road running up to the lodge. “This whole area where Pine Point is—why isn’t there anything drawn over that?”

“Because that’s going to be left as it is.”

“That’s where we went on the snowmobile,” Austin reminded her.

“I know,” she said softly. As if she could have forgotten how they’d stood just that morning looking over the world.

He drummed his fingers on the table. She recognized the gesture as a sign of the energy that came up inside him and needed somewhere to go. It made him ski, run, work himself ragged. She recognized it because it was the same force that kept her in the office, working, thinking, making things happen. Making plans real.

She willed him to understand what she was showing him. She begged him silently to say yes, even before she’d fully explained what she meant.

“The sale with the Hendersons is done, Austin,” she said. “I finalized it today.”

Beside her he seemed to deflate, his size and strength and fortitude unraveling before her eyes.

“But it’s not the deal that was in the papers,” she went on. “It’s not the deal that’s on this blueprint.” She pointed to the first sheet she’d unrolled, the one below the transparency she’d laid on top. Saying this out loud was making her legs shake. What the hell had she done?

Austin stared at her. “Are you telling me you bought all this land but aren’t going to do the planned expansion?”

Sam pulled out two chairs from the table. “Sit,” she said, as though it was for his benefit and not because she was afraid she was going to tumble right over. Austin seemed to waver for a moment, as though still unsure about being next to her, but in the end he did, looking the table, trying to make sense of what she’d put down.

“Kane Enterprises now owns over fifteen thousand acres in the Gold Mountain ski area,” Sam explained. “The only areas that are larger in the state of Washington—and in most of the country—are government lands.”

Austin let out a whistle. She thought he looked almost afraid of her then, fidgeting in his chair, not meeting her eyes. And she supposed he had good reason to be. The thought of what her company now owned made her a little afraid of herself.

“It’s going to be the third-largest ski resort in the U.S.,” Austin said quietly, parroting the stats that had been circulating around the state. “More than enough to keep up with Whistler. Dwarfing anything outside Utah and Colorado.”

Sam nodded. “Exactly.” She paused. And then, when she was finally ready, she said the words that had been drilling through her brain the entire drive to Austin’s. “And I want you to help me do it right.”

Austin’s leg stopped jostling midair. “What are you talking about?”

“I once asked you what you’d do to this area if you had unlimited—or, okay, nearly unlimited—resources. If you had the backing of a company like Kane.”

“That was just joking around,” Austin said. “I didn’t even know you were—”

“Serious,” Sam interrupted, because she wanted him to know that she was. “I know, again, that it was wrong not to tell you. I understand if you feel like I took you for a ride. But you opened my eyes to everything around here, and when I asked if you had a plan, something you’d want to do, you didn’t hesitate. You said yes, because as much as you love it here, you know you could do something with the infusion of money and resources the mountain is about to get. And you know what you’re talking about. You’ve studied this, you have ideas for what would work best, what people here need.”

Sam was getting excited now, her voice rising, the telltale spark she got when she grabbed hold of an idea and couldn’t let it go. It didn’t matter that Austin was looking at her like she was out of her mind. She knew she was right—she knew this could happen.

She also knew she didn’t want to do it without him.

“I’m not talking about us,” she continued. “I want to be clear I’m not asking anything from you, or expecting anything in return for what I’m offering. We have our differences. I’ve made my mistakes. I’m sorry for what I did, but now I’m asking that we put that behind us.” She plowed through the speech, no matter that the words cut like daggers into her heart. “This isn’t about what happens between us personally. This is purely business.” She looked at him to make sure he understood.

“Okay,” he said, taking it in. “If it’s not about us, then what is it about?”

“I want you to be my business partner. I’m asking you to take the lead on this development plan.”

“You’re crazy,” he said right away.

“No. I’ve thought about this, and I know it’s the answer Gold Mountain needs, and Kane Enterprises, too. I’m still spearheading the project, but you’d be the consultant—not in an office in Seattle, but out here. Your hours, your goals. Name your price. I can pay you whatever you want.”

Austin rolled his eyes. “This isn’t about the money, Sam. I’ve already sold you what you wanted. You can’t just buy me off.”

“I’m not buying you off. I’m hiring you for your services. You’re experienced, you’re qualified, you’d be great for the team. It’s not every day someone comes along and gives you free rein, along with whatever salary and benefits you’re looking for. Think long and hard before you turn this down just because you’re mad at me. We can leave our personal issues outside of this. You don’t have to talk to me about anything beyond business. But I want you on board.” She risked a grin. “And I should warn you, I have a habit of getting what I want.”

Austin exhaled slowly. “I see that.” But he didn’t get up, or walk away, and he didn’t demand that she leave. That at least was a promising start.

She walked him through the sketch again, pointing out her initial ideas and reminding him of the issues he’d brought up. When Sam handed Austin a pen, he uncapped it and immediately began sketching, laying out the crossroads for a new intersection south of the mountain slope. “I’ve always thought this is the kind of area that could have something,” he said as he drew. “It’s not going to bring the same kind of congestion as piling it all on the mountain road, and the flatlands will help contain the runoff.” He paused. “At least I think. I’m not a builder.”

“That’s okay, we hire those. You come up with the vision, then consult with them about how to implement it. Same thing for the condo developers.”

“You’re serious about this,” Austin said in wonder.

“Four-point-seven billion dollars, Austin. I may think nothing of a two-hundred-dollar pair of gloves, but once we’re talking that many zeroes, yeah. I’d say I’m serious.”

“But here.” He pointed to the place on the map where his house was.

“That’s your land. Those are your woods.”

“No,” he said. “That’s the woods I’m selling you.”

“I already talked to Steven. He’s not doing anything with the documents. We won’t countersign.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Austin, why would you sign such a thing? You don’t want to sell. And I’m not going to ask you to.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “The money, the acres—take what you want. You should have what you need.”

She frowned at him. “Don’t tell me you did this because you gave up. Because I’m trying to tell you this whole development is going to be different than anything we’d talked about.”

“I know,” he said. “I hear you. But don’t you get it? I’m not giving up anything.”

Now she was confused. “Steven told me you agreed to sell the land. Did I misunderstand?”

“I did agree. I faxed him the paperwork this evening. I’ll use Jesse and Sue’s lawyer to finalize the deal. But I’m not giving up. I’m making a choice to do something important for you, Sam. Because you want this, you need it for your company, and I’m not going to stand in your way. You don’t have to come back with a different plan or some crazy offer to consult. I just want you to be happy. Even if I can’t have you.”

This time she did rest her hand on his, feeling the strength of him before she pulled away.

“Steven called me when I was already on my way back from the Hendersons, heading over here to see you again,” she said.

Austin looked confused. “You mean you wanted to see me even when you still thought I wouldn’t sell?”

“This isn’t a ploy, Austin. I told you, we can develop Gold Mountain in a way that grows the ski resort, helps the town, and keeps more land intact. I know I’m supposed to tell you that you don’t have to decide anything now, take some time to think on it, but I can’t. Say yes, Austin. Tell me you’ll do this with me.”

She spoke with utter conviction, and yet she was still surprised when he looked her in the eyes and said, “Anything to make this development work is something I want to be involved in.”

“Not just involved in but leading.”

He looked down. “I’d have to get used to this whole you-in-a-suit thing.” He gestured to her outfit.

She laughed. “This isn’t even a suit.”

“Whatever. It’s not snow boots.”

“You wouldn’t be in the office—I give you special dispensation to wear whatever you want.” She paused. “Especially if it’s that tight racing suit.”

Oops. She hadn’t meant to blurt out that last part.

She thought he’d laugh, but instead his eyes narrowed. “Will everyone in the office be mad if you bring me in without consulting them? Do they even know you’ve changed all of this?” He fingered the transparency laid over the original blueprint.

“No, they don’t know. No, they won’t be happy. And no, I don’t particularly care.” Sam grinned.

“Yikes,” he muttered.

“We can talk all we want about team building, but the truth is that this is a top-down company. And I’m at the top. I didn’t necessarily want it, and when my father signed everything over to me before he died, I insisted I wasn’t ready. I don’t care what Samantha Kane said in interviews—the real me didn’t want to be in charge. It felt like somebody else’s role.” She looked past Austin’s shoulder, out the window where a light snow had started to fall, white flakes catching the porch light he had turned on. “I guess it felt like that was my father’s job, taking care of everything.”

She looked at him again. “But what I realized while I was here is that this is mine now, and I can shape it however I want. We don’t have to do things the same way they’ve been done for generations. My father wanted this land, but he’s not around anymore to dictate what we have to do with it. If people who work for Kane aren’t happy with the changes, there are a lot of companies that will take them with this name on their résumé. But I’m trusting that there are going to be more people who want to see what we can do up here and will want to be part of the company that transforms this region for the right reasons, and in the right ways. I know, it sounds so idealistic.” She waved a hand as though brushing away an objection, even though Austin hadn’t said a thing.

But a weight was lifting that she hadn’t even known she’d been carrying—the weight of being half herself, one part of her more fully Sam than she ever was in Seattle, but another part, a part that was just as important and true, locked behind the screen she’d put up for him.

Now she had a chance to tell him everything, to be fully present sitting in his kitchen with her whole life in his hands, and rather than be terrified like she’d been when she walked in, she felt almost glad. She only wished it hadn’t taken her so long to get to this place with him, and that rather than yell and push each other away, they could have come to this honesty before everything went and crumbled in their hands.

“I’ll tell you what,” Austin said. “I’ll do this on one condition.”

“Anything,” Sam said, and she meant it.

“I’m writing up a preliminary contract, and you have to accept it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Do I get to read it before I sign?”

He laughed. “Of course. But I’m naming my terms, and this time I’m really not going to budge.”

“I told you,” she said, “whatever you want.”

“Paper?” he asked, but they couldn’t find anything besides the blueprint, so reached for a napkin. He grabbed the pen they’d been using and turned his back to her.

“What are you doing?” Sam demanded, trying to see over his shoulder, but he pushed her back so she couldn’t see.

He lifted the pen and paused. “How much did that six-pack cost that you brought over last night?”

“What?” Sam was completely confused. “I don’t know. Seven ninety-nine?”

Austin scribbled something else down. When he finally handed the napkin to her, she burst out laughing. “You can’t be serious.”

“Sign.”

The laughter died in Sam’s throat. His jaw was hard, his green eyes flashing. She knew this wasn’t a joke. “This isn’t legally binding, you know.”

“I don’t care. It’s binding to you, and I know you’ll honor it.”

Sam shook her head. “I can’t.”

“This is the only way you’ll get me.”

“But it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“It does for me. Come on. Just sign.”

Sam didn’t want to, but she’d told him he could have anything, and if this was what he wanted, then he was right. She had to do as he asked. She picked up the pen and signed her name—her full name—the pen bleeding across the line he’d drawn below where he’d scratched his demands:

I, Austin Reede, do hereby agree to work as a consultant for Kane Enterprises for the annual fee of $7.99, plus tax.

Then he, too, signed and dated the napkin and handed it to her. “For your lawyers, so they know what to write up for you.”

Sam smiled. “I’ll remember to make sure they don’t overstep and try to give you some kind of salary.”

“I told you,” Austin said. “I don’t want the work part getting mixed up with us.”

“But there doesn’t have to be an—”

Austin’s lips were on hers before she could finish saying the words they both knew she hadn’t meant. For a moment she was too stunned to respond, and then instinct took over. Whatever had been rising within her, leaping up as soon as she saw him again, extended its hands and warmed her from the inside out. Her lips parted and her tongue moved with his, tasting his sweetness, her hands reaching for him as he, too, inched his body closer, one hand brushing the hair from her shoulder and clasping her firmly around the neck.

“Not idealistic,” he whispered, his forehead bent to hers.

“What?” she murmured, forgetting what she’d just said.

“You’re not idealistic. Why can’t we think of it as realistic? As something we’re really going to do.”

Slowly Sam pulled away. The kiss lingered on her lips, but his words brought her back to reality. To all she couldn’t have. “We are going to do it, Austin. I know we are. But this has to be business, Austin. I can’t—” She swallowed hard. “I can’t do this again.”

Austin reached for her before she could back away. “Sam,” he said. “Please, listen to me. I’m so sorry for the things I said to you. I was angry for no reason. You didn’t do anything wrong when I pushed you away.”

She pulled back her hand. “Don’t say that just to kiss me.”

“No. I mean it. Please, let me have one more chance with you. You were kind, and generous, and cared about me, and I couldn’t believe all of that was true. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I thought if I let you in, you’d find some way to hurt me.”

“You could have told me what happened to you,” Sam said. “You could have told me about the gloves, your injury. Or you could have just said thank you. You didn’t have to use them. You could have returned them on your own, or told me they weren’t for you but done so without blowing up at me over things I had no way of knowing.”

“You’re right. I wanted to tell you everything. Desperately. But that scared me. Usually I keep that secret buried so deep nobody has any idea there’s anything there. Everything is different with you, Sam. I couldn’t keep that secret anymore and I just—”

“Exploded?” Sam offered when he couldn’t think of the word.

He shook his head sadly. “It all came out so wrong. I let you in and I pushed you out at the same time. But I don’t want to carry so much bottled up inside me. I want us to be able to talk to each other, be open when we need to. If we’re going to be working together, we have to be able to trust each other. Both of us. No secrets anymore.”

Sam pressed her body close to his, feeling the muscles of his chest, the solidness of him so close she wanted to lay her head against his heart and feel it beating.

“In the spirit of honesty, I think I may have lied to you again,” she murmured, tracing her fingertips along his cheek, his jaw, over the tickle of blond hair on his chin.

He pulled away sharply. “What are you talking about?”

She rested her fingers on his lips, feeling the curve as though it were all new to her. As though this were, once again, the first time. “I told myself I came here for business reasons only. I promised myself—and you—that was it. But I can’t pretend that’s the only reason I came back.”

Austin ran a hand through her hair. “I can understand if you want to keep this a working relationship. We might not be good together as a couple. I don’t know. The best I can promise is that I’ll try. But I don’t want to mess anything up for you. I know you have a lot riding on this deal.”

“No.” Sam shook her head. “No, no, no.”

“I’m just saying. I’ll do the consulting even if that’s all you want. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything else just to get me on board. Because I already am.”

Sam clasped her hand over his where he was touching her neck. She pressed him close to her, as though reassuring herself that he meant what he said. “One thing you can always trust about me,” she said. “You know that if I’m doing something, it’s because I want to.” She paused. “But, Austin, you get to decide what you want, too. The job is yours no matter what happens between us.”

“I want to do more than spend all my time skiing. Maybe my life can be a little bigger than home, the mountain, Mack Daddy’s, rinse and repeat. Maybe I can have more of an impact this way.” He paused and flicked the opening where her blouse collected in a vee down her chest. “But I don’t just want to work for you. I don’t want that to be all that we have.”

“I’d still be your boss,” Sam murmured.

He unbuttoned the top button and pulled down the fabric so the lace of her peach bra peeked through. “I think I can get into that.” His fingers traced her nipples through the fabric. “There’s one more thing we have to square away, though, if we’re going to go into business together.”

“What’s that?” Sam asked, trying to keep her breath steady as her nipples strained, knowing he was watching her, teasing her, seeing how far he could push before her poise broke.

“We’re starting off on uneven footing. I owe you something from earlier.”

Another button gone. Still Sam trembled. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Yes.” The next button gone. Her breasts spilled out of the shirt, only one button at the bottom keeping it draped partway over her shoulders. “I promised you something this morning, and I didn’t deliver.”

Sam racked her brain. The whole day had been so long, she had no idea what he was talking about. “Let’s consider it a fresh start,” she said. “As long as we’re honest with each other from here on out.”

“I agree. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” The last button. He slid the blouse over her shoulders. It was luxurious, the brush of silk down her arms, the trace of his fingertips bringing goose bumps to her skin. Austin stepped close to her, enveloping her in his warmth. His hands slid around and cupped her ass through her pants.

“I was negligent this morning.” He bit gently on her earlobe. How could it be this easy for Sam to sink into him? How could it feel this right to stand half undressed before him when just that afternoon she’d thought her heart had shattered?

“Stop thinking,” Austin whispered. “I can hear you thinking.”

“I don’t understand how we got here,” Sam murmured into his chest.

“Don’t question—at least not until I even the score.”

“It’s not a competition.”

“No. But you should know that I’m a thorough and dedicated employee.”

He unbuttoned the top of her pants and slid his hand down the front, cupping her, letting out a grunt of pleasure as he felt her dampness through the fabric.

“You know I’d already write you a glowing review.” She moaned as his fingers stroked her slowly.

“Ah, but my write-up on orgasms for the day would be an N for Needs Improvement, when I’ll settle for nothing less than excellent.”

Sam laughed. “What are you talking about?”

“On the snowmobile. You didn’t get yours.”

“Something tells me it’ll even out over time.”

“No,” he said, biting the side of her neck. “I owe you one.”

He turned her and lifted her up so she was sitting directly on top of the blueprints. She wrapped her legs around him as he worked his tongue down from her lips to her breasts. He reached around to unhook her bra and licked her breasts until her hips were bucking up into him, a direct line from her nipples down between her legs. God, she’d wanted this. All day she’d wanted this, primed by the morning on the mountain, desperate until she feared she would explode.

And then everything had gone wrong, but it wasn’t wrong, not really—not if she could be arching her back on his kitchen table, her hips crinkling the blueprints she had worked so hard to produce.

His tongue trailed down her stomach, and he wiggled her out of her pants. “I’ve wanted to taste you all day,” he moaned as he leaned her back and bit the tender flesh through her panties, then kissed around the inside of her thighs where fabric met skin. Sam moaned and pressed her hips up to him, begging him to take her without teasing.

He slid her panties down so she was naked on top of the blueprints, hot and wet and wanting. Then he knelt on the floor and circled his tongue over her clit so that her hips jerked and she let out a gasp. Her hands reached down and clutched his wrists where he held open her thighs, pinning her in place against his tongue. There was a time for foreplay, for buildup, but this wasn’t it. Austin was entirely focused on making her come.

And he was going to. His tongue flicked and circled and danced until Sam was clinging to him, crying out loud. She pressed to his tongue as the wave built and built, and then it all came crashing down. She was wet all over the blueprints, wet all over his face, naked and panting while he didn’t have a single piece of clothing removed. When he stood up, wiping his mouth with a sly little grin, she hooked her heels around his legs and pulled him down until he was lying on top of her, his jeans scratching her thighs as he pressed into her, hard and straining against his fly.

“That was dirty,” Sam whispered as she wrapped her legs around him and ran her fingers through his hair.

“Hope you didn’t care too much about these blueprints.”

“I’ll have to make another copy now.”

“Don’t want anyone at work to know what you’ve really been up to.”

“Mmm.” Sam squirmed with pleasure against him. “Sometimes it’s okay to have secrets. Especially when they’re this good.”

He lifted off her. “Tell me you’re not going back to Seattle tonight. Tell me you’re going to stay.”

She sighed. “I have to be in the office tomorrow. I probably have about eight thousand messages about the deal. It’s going to be worse once someone actually bothers to glance at the contract and realizes how much of the specifics I crossed out.” But then she looked at him, and she couldn’t think about business anymore. “I do still have a toothbrush here, though.”

He grinned. “Stay, then, and leave first thing in the morning.” He ran his hand along her side, over her hip.

“You know, I used to think I wouldn’t need to do that much myself up here once the deal was signed,” she said.

“And now?” he asked.

Sam propped herself up so she was pushing him back, sitting with her legs wrapped around his waist as he stood before the table. She slid down so she was standing, naked against his clothes. She hooked her fingers through his belt loops and pressed her lips to his forehead. For the rest of her life, she wanted to be the one to kiss those worry lines away.

“And now,” she whispered, “I suddenly find myself with a very good reason to stay.”

“What reason is that?” he asked, so quietly she had to strain against him to hear.

She might have felt like she should wait, it was too soon, too scary, too big to jump in. But she was done waiting, pretending she was protecting her heart and sealing it off instead. “I went and fell in love with you.”

Austin didn’t just kiss her. He told her in every way—with his words, his tongue, his hands, his heart—that he loved her, too.

And then he led her to his bedroom, although she was tugging down his jeans before they made it to the top of the stairs. Yes, there was the project keeping her here. But more than that, there was Austin. There was the love they had. Wasn’t that more than reason enough to do something crazy, something different, something to completely change their lives?

Austin seemed like he had his routines. Sam did, too. She wasn’t sure what it would be like for either of them to make new habits, to open their lives in new ways.

But as he lifted her onto his bed and laid her back against the pillows, she couldn’t wait to find out.