Chapter Three

Lucy cracked open one eye and groaned. Her head felt as delicate as china. If she moved too quickly, she feared it would prove just as breakable. The sunlight streaming in through the crack between the curtains didn’t help matters. Slowly she became aware the frilly pillow squashed beneath her cheek was damp. With a superhuman effort, she raised a hand and swiped at the evidence of drool from the side of her face.

“Ugh.” Grimacing, she eased to her back, one forearm pressed to her eyes, blocking out the light. If only she could slip back into the dream she’d been having. Sam had starred in it, doing all sorts of delicious things to her body. Her core pulsed with heat, and she squeezed her thighs together to ease it, then frowned as she remembered Sam catching her out doing exactly that in his car last night.

Snippets from the night before came flooding back, and she cringed. But what had been real and what had been a dream? Or pure invention from an alcohol-addled brain? The one thing she knew for sure was she’d had too much to drink and embarrassed herself in front of Sam. Again. Maybe it was a blessing she couldn’t remember all of it.

“Lucy,” her mother called, her voice floating up the stairs. “Sam is here.”

Holy shit. Speak of the devil.

“He says you have plans.”

Plans? She bolted upright and groaned anew, her hands cradling her head to stop it rolling off her shoulders. Her stomach suddenly felt queasy, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. Just how much of last night wasn’t a dream? The blankets pooled around her hips, and air cooled her naked body. Ah, one memory was clear at least. After stumbling up the stairs, she’d crossed to her room and peeled off her clothes, desperate to escape the strange heat that had suffused her body. It had helped. Then without bothering to remove her makeup or even brush her teeth, she’d fallen into bed. No wonder her mouth tasted funky.

“Lucy, love! Are you up? It’s almost ten o’clock.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but her brain appeared to be incapable of stringing a sentence together. The low rumble of Sam’s voice sounded through the floorboards, sending hot sparks of longing to fizz through her, and her heart pounded, sending the blood to circulate faster, waking her up better than a shot of caffeine. And then she heard the unmistakable sound of his footsteps jogging up the stairs, and her eyes widened in alarm.

The door opened just as she dived back under the covers, pulling them up over her head. “Go away.”

His low laugh felt like an intimate caress over every inch of her skin, and God help her, but every fine hair on her body stood up in response.

“Phew. It smells like a brewery exploded in here. Come on, brat,” he demanded. “Get your butt out of bed. You’ll feel better once you get some fresh air and food into you.”

At the mention of food, her stomach rebelled, and she let out an involuntary moan of misery. Then, horror of horrors, the duvet tore free from her hands.

She grabbed desperately at the cover. “No, wait! Stop!” The cover slid down over her shoulders despite her best efforts. “I’m naked,” she gasped but too late and drew her legs up, arms hugging her knees as air whispered over her waist and hip.

“Oh, shit.” He dropped the blanket as if it were a hot coal and averted his gaze, backing away from the bed while she scurried to right her modesty. “Sorry.”

She yanked it back up to her chin, a headache pounding directly behind her eyeballs at the movement. Pushing herself against the headboard, she directed a glare at him, hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt. At the look in his eyes and the smile he hadn’t totally succeeded in suppressing, she suspected she did.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

One dark brow rose, and he didn’t answer for a beat, his silver eyes glittering with an intense light. He sat down on the edge of her bed, his hip pressed against her thigh, and she shifted in discomfit, her cheeks flaming.

“Have you forgotten our interesting conversation from last night already? I’m offended.”

She frowned and massaged the spot between her brows, then dropped her forehead to her knees. “I don’t remember much after replacing the tequila with whiskey.” A desperate lie, but he didn’t have to know it. “That was the whole point of the night out.”

Clucking his tongue, he shook his head. “You disappoint me, Lucy. I thought you were braver than that.”

She jerked her head up to find his gaze fixed on her, amusement sparkling in his eyes. Recognizing she’d never get anything past him, she huffed out a sigh. Perhaps honesty was her best option after all, and it might have the added benefit of getting him out of her room quickly before she did something she regretted, like throwing the blanket off and wrapping him around her instead. “Okay, fine. Yes, I remember, but I was hoping you’d give me a bit of time to get used to the idea.”

“And give you the opportunity to chicken out?” He pried one hand from her grip on the blanket and lifted it to his lips. “Not a chance.” Warm breath misted over her skin, the touch of his mouth electrifying all the little nerves sitting just underneath. Just a little example of how their relationship had already changed.

A pang clenched the muscles of her stomach as the yearning to get close to him picked up where it had left off last night. She hadn’t forgotten a thing from the moment she’d laid eyes on him again. He dropped her hand and stood abruptly. In a couple of strides, he faced her dressing table and opened a drawer, inspecting the contents.

“What are you doing?”

He pulled out a pair of track pants and a simple black shirt. “Finding you something to wear.” He dumped the clothes before her on the bed, then opened the top drawer and rummaged around. “You can’t go around naked, not that I’d mind one… Christ.”

At the strangled sound he made, her gaze sharpened on his profile, her muscles bunched, ready to leap to his aid. “What is it? Are you okay?”

From her vantage point, she watched color steal over his cheekbones. Following his line of sight, she saw he held small scraps of lace and silk. They looked even more delicate and feminine in his large hands. His Adam’s apple slid up and down, and she grinned. Who was she to pass up a chance to tease him back a little? Payback could be a bitch.

“Be careful which set you choose, Sam. The black and purple is pretty, but I just about spill out of the bra, so it wouldn’t be so good if we’re doing anything physical. The deep red set, on the other hand, fits me like a glove, but the matching panties aren’t so practical if we’re going to be exerting ourselves. You’ll have to do a little more digging to find a pair with bottoms that aren’t a thong.”

Sweat dotted his forehead, and his jaw looked set in concrete. “Don’t you have anything more practical, like cotton? Better yet, cotton Granny panties?”

She bit the inside of her cheek at his strained expression. She could let him off the hook and tell him about the other drawer holding her plain underwear, but having him so uncomfortable and on edge proved too much fun. And the thought of wearing sexy underwear underneath the plain clothing he’d chosen, knowing he knew and would envision it, excited her.

She shrugged. “No. It was the one way I could feel like a woman after having to wear that ugly bank uniform for so many years.” She worked hard to keep her tone innocent. “Is there a problem?”

He released a long breath, pulled out a navy-blue set, and slammed the drawer closed with his hip. “Nope. Here you go.”

The silky underwear dropped in front of her, and she struggled to keep from laughing out loud. “Ah, you might want to rethink this pair too, Sam.”

He about-turned in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame, knuckles showing white through the skin. “Why?”

She held the panties up and twirled them by one finger. “Because these—beautiful though they are—are crotchless.”

Fascinated, she watched as a multitude of expressions chased one after another over his face. The color which had started to fade on his cheekbones deepened as his nostrils flared, and his focus narrowed like a laser beam. The flare of heat in his eyes became nuclear. As he stalked back into the room, she suddenly wondered if her teasing had gone just a little too far. The underpants slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers and fell to a soft puddle on the floor.

Pinned under his gaze, her heart flitted about like a wild bird in a cage, and she suddenly became aware of just how naked she was in front of him. Slow measured steps brought him closer, his eyes burning into hers, holding her captive. She couldn’t look away even if she wanted to, couldn’t even blink.

He bent down until his face was level with hers, scooped up the tiny scraps of material she’d dropped, and pocketed them. “In that case, I’ll save these for another day.”

As he rose to his full height, his eyes continued to burn into hers, and she swallowed to ease a painfully dry throat. Every inch of her body quivered. She was a fool to think she could take him on at his own game. He’d turned the tables back on her so easily and neatly it was embarrassing. Perhaps taking pity on her, he blinked and the spell was broken, allowing her to breathe again. He turned his back, fishing a new set of underwear out of the drawers, and dropped them into her lap.

“Come on, the day’s a-wasting. Get your butt into the shower before I drag you in myself.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Grim sincerity and stark hunger blazed from his gaze. “Try me.”

For a split second, she saw how it would happen. He’d rip the blanket from her, then throw her over his shoulder, his callused hands riding on her naked thighs as he found his grip, millimeters away from her ass. Another shiver stole over her skin. The idea both excited and scared her.

“You have ten seconds to decide. One…two…three…”

With a shriek, she clutched the duvet cover to her chest and leaped off the bed. Snatching up the pile of clothing, she eased past him and dived for the door. A chuckle followed her all the way to the bathroom.

Closing the door behind her, she leaned against the wood, her knees jellified, and listened to his steps recede downstairs. She lifted a hand to her racing heart, then pushed away from the support to stand in front of the mirror. Dropping the bedclothes, she studied her naked reflection.

After the attack, weight had plummeted from her bones. Her insides had been a churning mess. Food no longer appealed but was something to endure, a necessity to keep her body fueled. Her figure had borne the brunt of her frazzled nerves. In the following years, it had been as if she were making up for that time, and her ribs had disappeared a little too completely.

Now she cupped her breasts, trying to imagine how they’d feel to Sam, if they’d be to his liking. An average B-cup, she couldn’t help but worry he’d find her lacking. She’d seen photos of the women he’d dated courtesy of her mother who’d thought updates were a good way of making her homesick and therefore come home. They were all gorgeous creatures with full busts, nipped-in waists, and legs that went on forever. What if once he saw her naked, he regretted his offer? She couldn’t bear that. She wanted him to desire her so much it was difficult to keep his hands to himself.

And then the memory of his eyes burning into hers while he fingered her underwear swam to the surface of her consciousness, and she shivered, nerves dancing around a maypole in her belly as she dared to believe she might get what she wished for.

Hand to her belly, she leaned forward and stared into her wide-eyed gaze. Expecting to feel anxiety and a little bit of fear, all she felt was anticipation and excitement. A smile stretched across her face. For far too long, she’d been a tender shoot, stunted by darkness. Now it felt as if the sun radiated down on her, and she surprised herself with how much she ached to stretch toward the warmth and light.

Suddenly keen to see what other surprises lay ahead in the day, she turned the shower onto full blast and scrubbed herself from head to toe.

****

Following the sound of animated conversation, Lucy descended the stairs, pulling a light cardigan over her plain black T-shirt. Pausing just before the kitchen door, she drank in the sight of her mother laughing at something Sam had said. Frown lines melted away by mirth and eyes sparkling with life, she looked years younger.

Guilt flashed hot over her cheeks. She should have come home earlier. True, she’d been fighting her own demons, oblivious to anyone else’s pain, but it was clear she’d been needed at home. Especially in the aftermath of her father’s death. How could she have been so selfish? Thank God Sam had been here. She hated to think how alone her mother might have been otherwise.

Yet another thing to add to the list of things to thank him for.

As if sensing her eyes on him, he glanced up and smiled. Telling herself it was gratitude that made her heart swell and stomach dip, she ignored the voice calling her on the lie and stepped into the room.

“Morning, darling.” Her mother’s smile faded back into its habitual frown, and she clucked her tongue. “You’re looking a little green around the gills. I’ve just brewed some fresh coffee. Sam made me make the fancy stuff. Would you like a cup?”

“Thanks, Ma.” She sidled past Sam to reach the cupboard holding the mugs and pulled down her favorite. Nothing short of a big helping of coffee was going to cut the mustard this morning. Bless Sam and his foresight in making her mother make some proper coffee rather than the powdered instant she favored.

“Sam was just telling me about rescuing you from that man in the bar. I can’t believe the line he used on you.” She giggled again, and Lucy’s mouth kicked up at the corners. “Did he really believe that would pick up any woman in her right mind?” She shook her head. “Men these days. They’re all boys. They’ve no idea.”

“Lucky you weren’t there, Janet. I would have had my hands full keeping the hordes in line.”

“Oh, stop it.” Her mother slapped his forearm and rolled her eyes, and Lucy’s heart squeezed at the easy way he teased her, the way her mother practically glowed whenever he was around.

“Are you sure you won’t reconsider going out with me?” he continued. “You know I’ve always loved you.”

“Oh, Sam, you silly boy, I love you too. You’re so good for my ego. But you know I’ve always thought the younger version of me would be perfect for you.”

Lucy’s gaze swung to her mother. That was news to her.

“You’re so wise, Janet.” Sam’s arm snaked around Lucy’s waist, pulling her flush to the side of his body, and she let out a squeak. “Maybe it’s about time I started acting on your advice.”

Coffee sloshed dangerously close to the lip of the mug as he drew her in. Before she could react, he bent his head and captured her lips with his in a resounding kiss. Her free hand rose and bunched in his shirtfront as her head whirled, whether to keep her balance or keep him from pulling away, she didn’t know.

Sam lifted his head before she could decide, leaving her lips tingling and veins running hot. She was thankful his arm still supported her as she seriously doubted her limbs had strength enough in them to do their job.

“How wonderful!” Her mother clapped her hands, and Lucy blinked slowly back to attention. Her mother’s face glowed with happiness.

Lucy had no idea she’d harbored serious hopes for the two of them, but apparently, Sam had. Her gaze shot back up to Sam, and anger built. What was he playing at? He was helping her overcome her fear of the opposite sex, but that was all it was. They weren’t in a relationship. How could he allow her mother to think they were? Couldn’t he see how happy the idea made her? And equally on the flipside, couldn’t he see how much it would devastate her when it came time to part?

“Sam.” She squirmed, pushing against his chest with her free hand until his arms dropped from her waist. “It’s not what you think, Ma.”

Determined to set her mother straight, she opened her mouth, then frowned. What could she say that didn’t make the course of action they’d embarked on sound lurid and depraved? We’re not in a relationship. Sam has just kindly offered me the use of his body to practice having sex. She cringed as she imagined her mother’s shock at that announcement and shut her mouth again.

“No, it’s not, Janet.”

Suspicion reared its head, and she narrowed her eyes at him. In one step, he closed the gap she’d put between them and threaded his fingers through hers. A warning squeeze told her he wasn’t going to back off without a fight, and that if she wanted to make a scene, he was more than willing to indulge.

“Not yet anyway—but I’m working on it. In fact, we’re going to spend the day together. I’ll have her home sometime after dinner.”

“Oh, how lovely. You’d better get going, then. Don’t let me hold you up.” Her mother reached up and patted him on the cheek, then took the mug out of Lucy’s hand. “And get that scowl off your face, darling, it’ll give you wrinkles.”

She ushered them out the door and waved as they stepped down onto the path, Sam still holding her hand. “Have fun, you two. I won’t wait up.” She winked and then shut the door, leaving Lucy with her mouth agape.

Sam tugged her toward the gleaming black Jeep at the curb, opened the passenger door for her, and strode around to the driver’s seat. The vehicle dipped slightly under his weight as he got in and closed the door with a soft clunk. Now that they sat insulated in their own private world, her heart jackhammered against the wall of her chest. For the first time since she’d known him, being alone and breathing the same air in such a confined space was frighteningly intimate. Butterflies rioted in her lower belly. He punched the start button, and the engine caught and purred.

The sound of a deep inhale surprised her, and she turned her head to study his profile. He’d closed his eyes, a death grip turning his knuckles white on the steering wheel. His chest expanded as he held his breath, then let it out in a loud exhale. His hands loosened on the wheel, fingers flexing before being replaced.

His gaze slid her way, and he gave her a sheepish grin. “Hey, I’m just as scared as you, brat.”

Just like that, the man beside her reverted back to the boy she’d known and loved forever, and she found herself relaxing a little more. “After that little scene inside with Mum, I find that hard to believe.”

The corners of his mouth kicked up into a wider smile, creating the crease in his cheek she’d always found so irresistible. “What better way to diffuse the tension than to indulge in a lip-lock with a beautiful woman? Besides”—his eyes grew somber as he studied her—“I refuse to let fear stop me from experiencing something wonderful, and there’s no way in hell I’ll let it rule you also.” Speech over, he flicked the indicator, and after a glance in both the rear-vision and side mirror, pulled out onto the road.

Silenced, she turned her attention out the window as suburbia slipped by. She jerked as Sam rested one hand above her knee. Her eyes widened on his as he squeezed the flesh gently, causing frissons of heat to shoot from the site to the very core of her.

“First lesson, Luce. Getting used to my touch. I want you looking forward to it, thinking about it.” His voice deepened. “Hungering for it.”

Oh, God. Didn’t he realize she was already halfway there? She’d been yearning for his touch for years. Shaken, she tried for a playful tone. “Wow. There’s a lesson plan? Just like school. What’s the next stage?”

“You initiating touch until it’s as natural as breathing.” He lifted his hand back to the steering wheel. “Punching me in the shoulder doesn’t count.”

Heat scorched across her cheeks. If he only knew the number of times she’d dreamed of touching him, and now he was giving her carte blanche. Did she have the courage to follow through without the ever-present fear of rejection getting in the way?

As if he’d read her mind, he sent her a crooked grin. “Just so you know, I’ll welcome whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Thankfully, he returned his attention back to the road because her face flamed as she imagined all the ways she’d like to touch him. And none of them could even be remotely classified as comfortable.

“I need you to feel completely safe with me. If at any stage you’re uncomfortable with what we’re doing, tell me and we’ll stop. No matter what. You can trust me on that, okay. But I want you to make a promise in return.”

Wary at the sudden gravity to his voice, she steeled herself. “It depends what it is.”

The traffic lights they approached turned red, and Sam slowed to a stop, eyes solemn on hers. “I want you to be honest. At all times. Especially to yourself.”

At her frown, he continued.

“I want you to recognize if you’re getting uncomfortable with something, to determine whether you really are, or whether it is purely bad thoughts regurgitating in your head.”

Yet again he proved just how well he knew her. There would be no deceiving him.

At her silence, he continued, “I’m going to help you, Lucy, but I can’t do it all by myself. We need to be on the same page—a team. Can you promise me that?”

He waited, one brow raised, and she blew out a breath, her fringe lifting at the force of her exhale. “Okay.”

The lightning smile on his face zapped her like a bolt from the sky, and it wasn’t until the traffic light changed to green and he turned his attention from her that she could breathe easily again.

Suburbia eventually blurred into countryside. The scent of newly cut hay wafted through the vents, filling the interior of the car, and Lucy breathed deep of the fresh smell. Straight away, it transported her to the days of her carefree youth. Back to the day when she and Jordan’s begging and pleading their parents to take them horse riding had finally borne fruit.

Upon hearing his parents were going through a messy divorce, Lucy’s parents had insisted Jordan’s new friend, Sam, come along to enjoy a day out too. At first, Lucy hadn’t been impressed. Something about the surly boy made her super aware of him. Super uncomfortable. He infected her moods with his own. She grew clumsy and self-conscious when his eyes lit on her, and on the rare occasion she’d met his eyes, they always seemed to be mocking her.

And then they visited the stables. She’d never forget witnessing the smile of pure delight transform his somber expression when the mount he’d been assigned turned its head and snorted, rubbing its head against his chest. The smile turned his face into a thing of beauty. When he glanced her way, instead of shutting down, he laughed, his eyes sparkling, inviting her to share in his unfettered joy. That moment had changed everything. The moment he’d let her in—whether by accident or design—she’d been captivated by him.

Now she glanced over at his profile, noting the small smile hovering at the corner of his mouth. “We’re going horse riding, aren’t we?”

His smile widened. “I should have blindfolded you. It was meant to be a surprise.”

She grinned back, ignoring the leap her dirty mind made at the word blindfold. “That wouldn’t have helped. The smell would have given it away any day of the week.”

A sign advising the turnoff to Hidden Falls Stables was fifty meters away caught her eye, and she gaped. Last time she’d been here, the stables had no name. She’d always believed that needed rectifying. The younger, more romantic version of herself had voiced her opinion to the two boys on numerous occasions, declaring Hidden Falls would be the perfect name after they’d discovered just that on one of their extended rides. She glanced over at Sam suspiciously, but he concentrated on the road before them.

Slowing, he pulled off the main road and turned into the familiar gravel-lined driveway. Only now beautifully trimmed poplars stood to attention like soldiers on either side as they drove, and Lucy’s sense of excitement grew. The last time she’d been here, they’d been mere shrubs, planted with meticulous care and great optimism by a voluntary army of riding students. Now they’d flourished into an impressive display of health and vitality, giving off a feeling of grandeur.

As they rounded the last bend in the driveway, she tore her gaze from the landscaping and leaned forward in her seat, eager to see the place that had lived in her most treasured of memories for so long.

“Wow.” The word escaped on a sigh of wonder. Where before there had been just a fork in the road that took visitors to either the stables or crude lodgings, now there stood a smart office, impressive signage with a map of the farm, and clearly marked parking. “This place has changed since I was here last.”

Sam maneuvered into a spare space and turned the engine off. “For the better, I hope?” He seemed strangely tense.

She laughed. “Are you kidding me? It’s incredible. I hope the riding instructors are still of the same caliber, though. It all looks rather flash and upscale. Remember Mrs. Oates?”

The tension left his body, and his teeth flashed white, making her pulse leap in response. “How could anyone forget Mrs. Oates? The bark and bearing of a drill sergeant, with the heart of a marshmallow. Let’s go find out, shall we?”

Lucy slid out of the car and took the opportunity as Sam rounded the hood to steady her heart rate. The respite was brief as he took her hand in his, linked fingers, and strode toward the office. Sliding open the ranch-slider door, he gestured for her to walk through first. The office girl lifted her head, a warm smile of welcome on her face, then her gaze slid past her and widened.

“Sam! How lovely to see you. Are you here to oversee the final planting by the lake house?”

He’d been doing work here? Lucy shot him a glance, but he kept his own firmly on the receptionist, his smile blinding. The girl blushed so fiercely, proving to Lucy that she wasn’t the only one susceptible to his charm.

“Hi, Nikki. No, I’m showing a friend around today. Lucy and I used to come here as kids.”

“Oh.” Her gaze slid back to give Lucy a tight smile, but she didn’t miss the way her eyes did a quick sweep as if to take stock of the competition. Lucy locked her fingers more firmly through Sam’s, allowing her body to lean just a little into his space.

Yeah, that’s right, lady, he’s taken.

The red-hot streak of possessiveness shocked her. She’d never had a possessive bone in her body—until Sam.

“Isn’t that lovely,” Nikki continued, the professional smile back on her face. “Are you going to take a ride as well? The weather couldn’t be more perfect. With that bit of rain we had the last week, the waterfall will be in full flow.”

“That’s the plan.” Sam rounded the counter and reached under, rummaging through a drawer. He straightened with a large set of keys in his hand as if it were a perfectly natural thing to do. “Is June around today?”

“She is. Bailey is due any day now, so she’s been hanging around the stables like a bad smell, afraid to miss something.” The roll of the eyes was softened with a genuine smile. Whoever this June was, she sounded like a force to be reckoned with.

“Then we’ll head that way first. Thanks, Nikki.”

Sam held the door for her, his hand on the small of her back guiding her out. As soon as they started walking down the path toward the stables, Lucy planted her feet, hands on her hips. “Okay, spill. What’s the deal here? Do you own this place?”

His deep laugh made all the fine hairs on her body quiver in pleasure. “Business is going well, but not that well. Have you seen the price of land around here lately?”

He twined his fingers through hers again, his palm warm and solid. Her thumb brushed against the base of his callused thumb in an unconscious display of affection, and his nostrils flared.

“That doesn’t answer my question, though, does it?” She bumped him with her shoulder, and he grunted, pulling her closer to his side.

“Fine. I’m part owner.”

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. “Oh, wow. That is amazing, Sam. Tell me how it happened.”

“A few years ago, I heard the bank was about to foreclose on Mrs. Oates. She’d fallen heavily behind on the repayments and rates. The rates are a killer in this part of Auckland.”

She grimaced in sympathy. “They really are. How’d you hear about that?”

“I was pruning back the planting in the driveway. One day, she asked me to down tools since she couldn’t afford to pay the last couple of weeks. I refused and offered to finish it for free.”

Lucy smiled. That was typical of him. “You’re a sweetheart, Sam.”

The tips of his ears turned red, and he shrugged. “I can’t bear not finishing something I start.” His voice was gruff with the effort to downplay her praise. He’d always been like that. Seeing a need and then working quietly in the background until that need was met, keeping well out of the limelight. He’d always been a sucker for a project or a charity case.

Her stomach soured as the truth of that thought settled, and she pulled away, ostentatiously picking her way around a couple of potholes in the gravel. “I bet Mrs. Oates was overjoyed.”

He laughed again. “Actually, no, she wasn’t.”

The soft sound of horses nickering to each other reached her ears, and Lucy glanced up to find they had almost reached the stables.

“She grumbled and groused about not being a charity case and boys with nothing better to do, but I ignored her and carried on anyway. What was she going to do? Pick me up and throw me out?”

She pictured the old lady of her memory, no bigger than a ten-year-old child, trying to forcibly eject Sam, all six feet and solid muscle of him, and she laughed. “I’d love to have seen her try.”

They paused before the fence enclosing the stable. Built from natural timbers and weathered to a soft silver, the stable sat comfortably amongst the surrounding trees. It seemed as if it had always been there. Lucy remembered the lean-to that had previously sat in this spot and smiled nostalgically. Things had definitely improved, but it was also a little sad to find so much from her past changed. She glanced over as Sam leaned his forearms on the post next to her, his triceps brushing against her shoulder as he crossed his arms, and her heart gave a little leap. Her mouth tugged wryly. It seemed not everything had changed with time.

“I’ve always loved this place. It’s full of great memories.” His eyes were on the building, but like her, his focus was clearly in the past. “It’s a bit of an oasis. A bit of country in the middle of suburbia. Developers have been eyeing it up for years. I couldn’t bear the thought it would get churned up for housing. I wanted other kids to have the same opportunities here that I did.”

Lucy rested her arms on the top post beside him, studying his face. “So how did you keep it out of the developers’ hands?”

He blinked and turned his head, his gaze zeroing in on her. With a feather-light touch, he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek with a fingertip. Her attention snagged on his top lip as the corners tilted up fractionally.

“I got together a group of people to form a syndicate. They consisted of a couple of old mates from school and others I’d met through work. Once we had a plan in place of what we were going to do with the place, we approached Mrs. Oates, who loved our ideas, and finally the bank.” He spread his hands. “And here we are.”

“It must have been so hard on her to let it go. It had been her life.”

“That was the best part of the plan.” He pushed off from the fence and reached for her hand as an old lady materialized in the doorway of the stable. “We hired her to look after the horses and do the occasional riding lesson.” He lowered his head and whispered, “Only the adults mind you.” His breath stirred the hair at her ears, causing goosebumps to erupt over her skin. “We don’t want her terrifying the youngsters like she did in our day.”

“Samuel Merrick, is that you, young man?”

The sudden bark made Lucy jump out of her skin. She’d forgotten how much the woman’s voice resembled a foghorn.

“It sure is, June. I’ve brought someone with me you might recognize.”

“Then get over here, boy, instead of grinning like a loon. I don’t have all day for lollygagging, you know. Jobs to do. The horses don’t attend to themselves.”

“Oh, my God,” she whispered out the corner of her mouth. “She hasn’t changed at all.” Lucy wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh out loud or run in the other direction.

Sam chuckled and made the decision for her, pulling her toward the old lady who stood waiting, a crop slapping rhythmically against her boot-covered calf. “You remember Lucy Caldwell, don’t you? Her family and I used to come here during the summer months for a couple of years.”

“Lands, boy. Of course I remember her. I’m old, not addled. Who’d forget that pale complexion and big eyes? I always thought you were a sick little thing, but your mother assured me it was just your coloring.” Her huff belied her skepticism. Shuffling up to her, the old lady pinched her cheeks, the strength still apparent in those fingers surprising. “There. That’ll put some color into your face.” She hooked her arm through Lucy’s and towed her toward the stables, a force as powerful as nature and just as impossible to resist. “Come and see what’s changed since you were last here.”

“I’d love to, Mrs. Oates.”

“Pfft. Call me June. You’re an adult now, right? And it only makes me feel more ancient than I am for adults to be so formal. How is your family, dear?”

Lucy swallowed against the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach at the blunt question. “It’s just Mum and me now.”

June nodded and clucked her tongue. “Samuel told me about your brother. The silly boy. Why the government continues to allow teenage boys to drive cars before they’re mentally ready is beyond me.”

Lucy winced but couldn’t fault the sentiment. She’d raged at the same herself over the years, alternating between anger at Jordan and the driving laws. Ultimately though, she’d realized only her brother’s rash decision was to blame.

“Let’s start with the tack room, shall we?” Sam appeared at June’s elbow, subtly moving them through the doorway and changing the subject. Lucy sent him a smile of gratitude, then gasped in wonder as she took in her surroundings.

The dark and cold concrete room from her memory had been transformed into a warm space. Firmly packed hay bales lined one wall, acting as shelving units or convenient places to sit while cleaning leather or shooting the breeze. Saddles sat on pommels screwed into another wall at waist height, making Lucy smile. No more struggling to pull them down, the heavy leather falling onto the heads of the unwary if one was accidentally knocked loose. Supple bridles hung below each, the name of the horse they belonged to engraved on bronze plaques sandwiched between. In the middle of the room stood a central shelving unit, bearing an assortment of grooming equipment all spotlessly clean and neatly laid out. Stacked below was a large collection of helmets, the differing sizes clearly labeled, making it a breeze to find the perfect fit.

The only thing still exactly the same was the smell. Leather, hay, liniment, and the lingering perfume of worked horses. Lucy closed her eyes and inhaled, an involuntary smile tugging at her lips. Heaven. She’d always thought it should be bottled. The warm scent enveloped her, sending her back to a time where everything still made sense. When everything in life held the sheen of innocence. When her family was still complete and before anything ugly touched her life. Then another scent became her focus as footsteps approached her. Citrus and soap, earthy freshness, and warm male.

Sam.

Her eyes popped open.

“Do you like it?”

Arms loosely crossed and head tilted, he watched her reaction, his pose casual. But it was deceptive. This close she could see how rigidly he held his body, read the tension in his eyes and the fixed set to his mouth. Her approval meant something.

“It’s wonderful.”

His face relaxed into a wide smile, making her catch her breath. Would there ever come a day where his sheer beauty didn’t affect her? She didn’t think so.

“Samuel designed this room. Said a woman my age needed a safer environment to work in.” June snorted, the sound not unlike her beloved horses, and Lucy rolled her lips inward, pressing them together. Careful to avoid Sam’s eyes, she swallowed the laugh that bubbled up into her throat. Sam had perfected the sound when they were younger, reenacting the times he got in trouble with Mrs. Oates for her and Jordan’s benefit, sending them into fits of laughter. And those times had been often. The sweet memory softened the keen edge of loss.

“Well, he was right.” Lucy flashed him a quick smile and wandered around the room, running her fingers over leather and brushes, delighting in half-forgotten textures and sensations. Her touch released more of the familiar scents into the air, and she breathed deeply, trying to flush Sam’s scent from her system where it had set root. “It’s good to know you’re not wrestling pounds of leather above your head anymore. And it must be good for the kids that come here too. I remember how it felt to be clobbered with a saddle because I wasn’t strong enough to heft it down safely.”

“Too stubborn more like,” Sam countered, his lips hitched in one corner, eyes twinkling. He stroked down her arm, sending bolts of heat through her. “You always did want to do things your own way. I’m glad you’ve learned sometimes it pays to let others help you.”

She sucked in a breath and forced herself not to move away from his touch, instead catching hold of his fingers and interlacing them with her own. Approval crinkled the corner of his eyes as he gazed down at her.

“Oh. Like that, is it? Well, I can’t say it surprises me.” June was nodding in approval. “There was always something between you two, even as kids. I even said as much to your mother. Right,” she interrupted herself. “I’ll show you my quarters next.”

Lucy grinned as she followed June. She really hadn’t changed. It still took an effort to keep up with her lightning-quick changes of subject. “You live here?” Glancing around the room, she frowned, searching for a hidden door or something.

“Not here, silly girl. I’m dedicated, but I like my creature comforts too. No—Samuel had the groom’s quarters above the stables remodeled, but that word doesn’t begin to do it justice.”

“You live onsite?”

“Yep. Your man insisted.”

Lucy’s chest tightened, and she let go of Sam’s hand to rub at it with the flat of her palm. Her man.

“Part of the remuneration package, he said,” June continued. “Reckoned it’s better for the horses to have someone here at all times. They can be such skittish animals, and having someone here does seem to help keep them calm.”

“I see.” Lucy raised a brow at Sam who seemed intent on avoiding eye contact, making her suspect his insistence had more to do with June’s welfare than the horses’. Her chest constricted. Yet again, there was another example of Sam’s abundant capacity for compassion and kindness. He had always been the one looking after everyone else. Now she wondered who’d been there for him in the years since his best friend’s death. Who’d made sure he was all right?

They exited the tack room and stepped out into the bright morning sunshine. Rounding the corner of the building, they were greeted by the sight of immaculate stables straight out of an English movie set and her childhood musings. Horses’ heads hung over the half-doors, their peaceful gazes on them, some nickering in welcome as they approached.

“That’s Beau.” June’s elbow nudged Lucy’s side, her head inclining toward the big, speckled gray watching them under a shaggy forelock. “He’s a gentleman. I’ll have him saddled up for you after your tour of the place.”

“Thanks. It’s been a while.” That was an understatement. She’d be as rusty as all hell, and she was relieved to hear she’d be assigned a mount that would look after her. Nothing would be worse than looking like an idiot in front of Sam.

Lucy stopped to give the big gray a scratch behind the ear, breathing deep of the delicious horsey scent. He turned his head, encouraging her fingers to scratch at the spot right below his forelock. He closed his eyes and blew out of his nostrils in a horsey sigh, making her laugh.

“You are lovely, Beau. I think we’re going to get along perfectly.”

After a few more minutes of getting acquainted, she gave him a final clap on the shoulder and followed June up the stairs to her quarters, Sam bringing up the rear. Suddenly acutely aware of just where his gaze was likely to be, she stumbled.

Large hands clamped onto her hips, righting her, his voice low in her ear. “Careful.”

The husky baritone lifted the fine hair at her nape and made her blood heat. All the electrons in her body jumped to attention, insanely responsive to every little move he made.

Although they spent the next few minutes touring the grooms’ quarters and she made all the right noises, if she was quizzed, she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone how big the building was or even what the color of the walls were. Just like before, Sam was fast becoming her world, and it was starting to scare the shit out of her.