Chapter Eleven
Sam drove Anya’s large van down the street leading into the small coastal town. Driving slowly, she appraised the small shops and empty business fronts.
With the van parked next to the end unit, Sam opened both back doors while Anya opened the shop and set about opening the back door and flipping switches for the ceiling fan. The large main room was empty with built in racks for hanging clothing on against all walls. The front window had a large flat space where displays could be designed to attract and entice visitors.
“This is a wonderful area, Anya,” Sam carried totes and containers into the shop, setting them on the counter for Anya to relocate. “And you have a great space here…you can work in the same area easily. Where did the huge drawing table come from? It looks brand new,” Sam ran her hand over the smooth surface.
“Ian had it delivered yesterday,” Anya sighed lovingly. “He said it would be a perfect gift for me since he was used to seeing me draw with the pad on my lap. I will still draw on my lap…but this is perfect for in here. Help me move it over, please?”
Together they cleaned and arranged and stored the supplies she used to make the costumes. Several hung on the rack. Fantasy, Science Fiction and her own belly dancing costumes were the beginning of the shop. Men’s clothing on the right and women’s on the left. Several small round racks would hold costumes for children.
Sam stood back and glanced at the labels on the plastic containers. From ribbons to thread to laces and edgings; elastic and buttons and special closures; small metal rings, bells and dangling tassels, Anya was pretty much ready for anything. Another self held several bolts of fabric ready to be cut and used.
“You said you had a problem with the landlord?” Sam walked onto the sidewalk, glancing up at the two empty store fronts. At the other end was a small meat store that appeared to be doing a very brisk business.
“Chloe did…but I am uncertain as to why,” Anya shrugged and moved to work on something in the back of the store.
Sam took out her phone and tapped in the phone number of the real estate person listed on the signs in the store front. “I’m at a small collection of four shops on Marine View Drive in Des Moines. They have your sign in the windows. Is this entire four shop strip for sale?” She listened to the start of a pitch. “I only asked one question, Miss Che. Thank you…all four? And the asking price?” Sam made notes as she talked. “How long has it been on the market? Please…no speech…just facts…thank you for your time.”
Sam leaned against the van, scrolling through numbers on her phone. She tapped one and waited. “Sam Elliott for Charles Wilson, please…yes, of course I’ll hold.”
“Sam? Where the hell have you been?” The gruff, older voice came through the line filled with concern.
“Oh, let me guess…you read the society page?” Sam asked drolly.
“A headline that big is difficult to miss,” he said with less bluster and a little more defense. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re not among the missing.”
“Me, too, Charlie,” Sam chuckled. “I need a favor…please…” Sam gave him the phone number, address and information she had. “See what kind of better deal you can get for me…and I’m patient, so no rush.”
“So where have you been?” Asked her long time friend and real estate agent.
“Getting married, Charlie,” Sam said with a smile.
“Married? Oh, please tell me it wasn’t that…no, I know you’re much smarter than that,” Charles Wilson shook his head. “So who’s the lucky guy?”
“His name is Logan Sheffield.”
“Sheff…you’re not serious?” Charles dropped his pen and gaped at the phone’s speaker. “You married into the Sheffield family? And snared the eldest son?”
“Hmmm…boggles the mind evidently,” Sam said quietly. “And here’s a little tip…the younger son is engaged to a wonderful woman…so that’s both Sheffield boys off the market.”
“Wow…when you go, you go big…congratulations. Bet that tidbit puts old Strang in his place,” Charles Wilson chuckled. “I’ll be in touch about this property, Sam…take care.”
“Thanks, Charlie, bye,” Sam slid her phone away, her mind churning at how exactly to fill the other spaces in the building. She had some ideas that could prove very interesting and extremely fun. She wanted to talk to her father and mother. Somewhere inside her she knew she always used them to bounce her ideas off.
Fifteen minutes later, Sam and Anya were on the road, making a quick stop at the local nursery. The van was now filled with plants that needed to be repotted and nourished and placed. Sam and Any went through the storage room, pulling the things they wanted from the inside, some things going toward the Seaside Wing and others into the Forest Wing. Mack simply smiled and moved the things the young women wanted with a happy nod. He was glad to be working and surprised with each new idea the women offered.
Large bags of potting soil, fertilizer and lovely empty ceramic pots cluttered the back patio for a time while the women worked, dirt beneath their fingernails and chatting about the new shop and the ideas Anya had yet to put to paper. They arranged the shelf in the solarium before moving the various small tables and shelves into the large area. A bright red and gold rug was unrolled and vacuumed while Sam carried in the finished pots. The shelf near the door held the spray bottle, watering can and smaller plants.
Logan came in the front door in time to see Sam and Anya wrestling with a small, very old wooden table. His briefcase and computer went to the chair and he crossed the floor.
“Are you trying to inspire Ian to punch me out?” He put his hands on the table, his weight sending it to the floor. He met the pair of quizzical eyes with a set frown.
“Ian would never…” Anya began defensively.
“We are quite capable of…”
“Anya is recovering from a gunshot,” Logan pushed the words through his teeth. “Where do you want this thing?”
“The solarium, in the center, please,” Sam said meekly.
“I am healed!” Anya announced, following Logan into the large room, watching his reaction. She smiled at Sam and winked.
“Wow…” Logan set the table down and straightened up, turning slowly to take in the entire green area. It was like part of the green belt had been moved inside the house. Two comfortable chairs and the table he’d just carried into the room looked like they were the final additions. He watched Sam moved the table a little, shaking out a lacy cover and tossing it over the table, smoothing it out and stepping back.
“Excellent…” Sam said with a satisfied smile. “Thanks, Anya.”
“Oh, I had a wonderful time today,” she hugged Sam and moved toward the back door. “I will see you at dinner. Bye.”
Sam waved and tugged on the sleeve of Logan’s jacket. She met his look with a kiss. “Hi…how goes the project?”
“There are times humans make you want to be a mountain lion,” he answered with a shake of his head. “It’s moving along nicely, though.”
Sam dusted her hands over her thighs. “Are you changing for dinner? You’re not wearing your suit, are you?”
“I thought it might be nice…”
“You never…” Sam paused, studying his expression. “You’re nervous,” she said in amazement, sinking to the sofa and watching him pace.
“Sam…they’re your parents,” he said as if that sentence explained it all.
“And you’re my husband,” she said carefully. “You wear whatever makes you comfortable, Logan…but never stop being you because of my parents, please. I don’t know what you’re expecting…and while your dad is fun and smart and chatty, we both know your mom will never come around where any of us significant others is concerned. And that’s honestly okay…at least we know where we stand. I’m sorry for that, but…my parents are like your grandparents, Logan…only younger.”
“You think I should change?” Logan met her laughing eyes, taking the palm she offered when she stood up, leading him toward the bedroom. His eyes immediately went to the closet, thinking she was going to pull out something for him to wear.
Sam stood back, looking at him with a critical and shaking her head. She pushed the jacket off his shoulders, laying it neatly on the old fashioned wooden chair next to the closet. She dropped to her knee, glancing up.
“Shoes,” she said simply, working hard to keep her expression serious. She tossed them toward the closet, shaking her head and removing the black socks, too. Her hands went up, loosening the knot on his tie, pulling it free and laying it over his jacket. Her frown was critical as she opened the buttons down the front of his shirt, opened his trousers and let them slide to the floor.
Logan was seriously beginning to wonder where his brain had gone when he was down to his boxers.
“Samantha…” He began slowly when he stepped out of his trousers and she laid them neatly on the chair.
“Tut-tut…you’ll thank me for this,” she assured him, she took him to the bed and pushed him back on it, standing only long enough to remove her own jeans and panties. She crossed her arms over her front and peeled the tee shirt over her head, dropping it behind her. The bra followed quickly. Her name came out a strangled sound even as his lower body hardened.
“Sam…” Logan wasn’t sure if it was meant as a protest or a plea.
“I think you are in need of some serious de-stressing, Logan,” Sam lifted a foil packet from the nightstand even as she leaned forward, slowly trailing her mouth over his chest, onto his throat and jaw before taking his mouth in a long, sensuous kiss.
“I think I married a seriously brilliant woman,” Logan put his hands on her waist, tipping her to her back and taking the packet from between her fingers. He quickly prepared himself, the urgent sensation coursing through him reciprocated in the beautiful green eyes. His fingers cupped her, drawing apart the soft petals, spreading the sweet dew and moving between her thighs. He gasped when her small palm wrapped around him, guiding him to the small, welcoming opening.
Sam gave up trying to understand the power in their passion, her hips thrust upward to seat him even as he groaned against her mouth. The need for his touch, his kiss and the heated whisper over came her when his fingers stroked over her lower body. She tore her mouth from his, gulping in air when her muscles spasmed, her long legs wrapped tightly around Logan’s hips and holding him snuggly in place, trapping him while her body spiraled tautly around him. She held him close, fingers stroking over the sheen of moisture while their breathing slowly leveled off.
He languidly lifted himself from her, his mouth cruising softly over her lips. She always had this effect on him. There was something incredible in her touch, her kiss. Something foreign to him that unleashed a raging deluge of passion within him. And when it was all over she always left an amazing well of contentment. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind he could conquer anything with her at his side.
Her eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn’t asleep. He laid back at her side a few seconds later, his fingers up and tracing a line around the full lips formed in a sweet little smile.
“I think simple jeans and a shirt will do nicely, Logan,” Sam captured his finger between her teeth, pushing herself up and striding into the closet, snatching her underwear from the floor on her way.
Logan watched her step back into the bedroom, a short dress in her hands. She lifted it and let it fall down her arms and over her curves, the bright red flowers and green foliage suiting her well. The skirt was slightly flared and waved around her knees.
“You’re wearing that and I’m supposed to show up in jeans?” Logan shrugged into his shirt, buttoning it slowly.
“I like dresses,” Sam turned to look in the mirror. “I brought several of them from my house and will go get some more clothes and things tomorrow. Logan, you’re not really worried about meeting my parents, are you?”
“I don’t know,” he pulled his slacks on, belting them slowly. “I want them to know I’ll always take care of you, always protect you and be there for you, Sam. I’ve never had experience with a girl’s parents before,” he admitted ruefully.
Sam walked up to him, taking his palms in hers. “But together, we can handle anything,” she repeated his words softly.
“Yeah…I heard that somewhere,” his grin was slow and confident. He turned her with a gentle swat. “Shoes, woman…don’t want to be late.”
Sam found a pair of comfortable flat sandals, fitting them and striding to their front door. She slid her phone into the top of her dress and stepped into the early evening sunshine. A slice of giddiness took her and she twirled slowly, her face raised to the sun.
Logan couldn’t stop the pure smile of enjoyment as he watched her, arms out and body turning slowly.
“That’s my daughter,” came the lilting north eastern accent, a hint of amusement sparkling in the bright green eyes.
Logan looked toward the approaching couple who exited the shiny black four door car. His gaze swept them both, taking in the colors and sparkling jewelry on the slender older redhead, a simple belted dress of red swirling around her knees. The man might have been a redhead at one time, but was now a comfortably short cropped amber, dressed much the same as Logan.
“Mother!” Sam stopped spinning, wobbling and grateful when Logan gripped her waist tightly. “Thank you…” she waited for her head to catch up and went immediately to her mother.
“Get used to it, Logan, my daughter is always spinning somewhere,” Elizabeth Elliott said with a living smile, unashamed as she appraised the tall, dark man from head to toe. “My darling daughter…he’s even more handsome than the photo’s you showed me.”
Logan blushed. He ground his teeth and felt the heat flame in his cheeks.
“You took photos?” He looked at Sam who pulled out her phone and shrugged and her father chuckled deeply.
“That’s my Sam,” he said warmly.
“Mother…Dad…this is my husband, Logan Sheffield,” Sam announced proudly, moving to tucked her arm in his. “Logan, Elizabeth and Morgan Elliott.”
“Very pleased to meet you, my boy,” Morgan stepped forward, shaking Logan’s palm after his wife.
“Samantha has immeasurable praise for you, Logan,” Elizabeth commented. “I personally wouldn’t care if you had a penny. The gleam and happiness I see in my daughter’s eyes…that is truly priceless.”
“Mother,” it was Sam’s turn to blush, staring at her feet when Logan kissed her forehead. She sighed. She wouldn’t ask her mother to ever be anything else than what she was, she knew that from the bottom of her heart.
“Well, it’s true,” Elizabeth twined her arm with Logan’s. “You do realize that in addition to inheriting her mother’s beauty, my daughter inherited her father’s financial genius.”
“Do tell,” Logan slowed their pace, glancing at Sam curiously. “She’s neglected to mention that.”
“Oh lord, the child began reading the financial pages when she was barely thirteen. Other girls were chasing boys, my daughter was sitting on her father’s knee asking questions about investing and stocks and portfolios…she’s tripled our yield in the last five years. It’s not something I’ve ever understood,” Elizabeth said with a wry smile.
“Tripled?” Logan looked at Sam with one brow arched.
“Oh please…it’s like playing monopoly,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Timing and location…it’s rather like an intricate game of gin.”
“So…tell us about this massive business project you have going.”
Sam took her father’s palm and led them toward the house and the wide open doors. She listened, smiling while Logan fielded the questions. She knew he was relaxed and okay when he caught her eye with a teasing wink. She felt heat strike her cheeks and wasn’t sure why flirting with your husband made her blush. But it was an oddly fun feeling.
The four of them entered the main dining room, introductions made around the table.
“This is a lovely home, Millicent…and you have exceptionally handsome grandsons,” Elizabeth said honestly.
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” Millicent smiled happily. Color and vitality was what her home had needed for a very long time. “And now I have two absolutely beautiful granddaughters.”
“Well, I can’t very well disagree with that,” Elizabeth said with a soft laugh. She paused on her way to an empty seat, smiling down at the new addition. “Well hello young man. You look quite handsome today.”
“Uncle Ian said we were having company,” Mark answered, tugging on the bottom of his wildly flowered Hawaiian shirt. “So I put on my best shirt.”
“And I have to agree, it is a positively stunning shirt. I love those colors,” Elizabeth told him warmly.
“You have red hair like Sam,” he looked from one to the other. “Are you her mother?”
“I am and my name is Elizabeth,” she extended her palm politely. “And that is Sam’s father, Morgan.”
“Pleased to meet you, I’m Mark,” he followed the rituals he had observed, shaking her hand and going to shake Morgan’s. “Want to sit by me?”
“Better watch out, Morgan, the kid has moves,” Logan teased lightly, ruffling his nephew’s hair.
“I would like that very much, Mark. So where do we sit?” Elizabeth followed him with an arched brow and a nod.
“It’s a buffet tonight,” Millicent told them all. “So please, help yourself. Trinity is positively in heaven at all these people to cook for,” she left her chair and began the procession.