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Reluctantly, I open the door, tip my hat with my free hand and command my feet to take me to the hallway. I only turn around once to send her a smile, taking one last look at her watching me from her doorway. The stairs ground me in reality and I pause just for a second, briskly rubbing my cheeks. I whisper, “It’s time to bring your A game, Tommy Landen,” and take the steps two at a time.

The air is chilly outside as I walk to my truck without staring up at her window to see if she’s watching me leave. At least not until I get to my door.

She’s at the window, giving me a little wave.

As I wave back and get into the driver's seat, my phone buzzes. Smiling, I pull it out of my pocket and then my heart feels like it’s on the pavement. I squeeze my eyes shut tight to fight off the nausea that usually hits when Maisy decides to reach out because I’m flooded with shame.

After a moment, my breath comes steadily and I start the engine. Sam doesn’t need to see me deal with Maisy’s crap, but I doubt she can still see me with the headlights on, so I roll down my window and wave once more at the woman of my dreams while I pull out of the parking lot.

“You’ve got this,” I reassure myself, trying to keep the building panic that I’m nowhere good enough for someone as incredible as Sam at bay. Doubts rush my brain. Every little comment about how charming, sexy, and mysterious my brothers are I’ve heard over the years. All the reasons Maisy had to cheat on me for so long…and for me to remain oblivious.

My thoughts unwillingly go to the latest set of texts I got from my ex saying she was moving back soon. Maisy truly has nothing to say to me that I want to hear anymore. I know I’ll eventually look at the message because she might be telling me she’s never coming back to Greenstone and I can breathe easy. Or that she’ll be here in a few days and I can get our first face-to-face meeting since she left out of the way once and for all. I toss my phone to the passenger seat, turn up the radio, and drive home, focusing on the amazing night I just had, letting the smell of Sam’s perfume on my shirt keep me in this moment.

Chapter 13: Sam

Talk about an exit.

Holy cow, my heart is still pounding.

I need to leave the window, he drove away a full minute ago, but I swear my brain and body are both trying to figure out what all happened. For a moment, I thought I misread everything and that my worst fears of having a chance with Tommy Landen were almost within my grasp and then torn away.

Well, being friend-zoned is definitely not at the top of my list, but I’d rather have that and clear boundaries than thinking he might feel the same and turn out to be completely wrong. The embarrassment alone would be enough to create an awkward rift that I’m sure would never be filled and I wouldn’t even have him as a friend.

Finally, I move to the couch and curl up against the spot that smells like him, the cedar lingered the most. I know that I must look like some love-sick puppy right about now, but I haven’t felt this comfortable with someone, so cared for, so loved. Not that he loves me or is even thinking too much about things, but he seems interested. I can’t remember the last time I was held like that.

Intrusive thoughts keep trying to, well, intrude, on my moments of bliss. Reminders of Brad, in particular.

Nope, we’re not going there.

And I’m sure Tommy is attentive in bed. He is in everything else he does. Maybe I’ll finally figure out how to have good sex.

A laugh bursts out of me at the absurdity of that thought.

But I sober quickly, now trying to not go down a rabbit hole for why I’ve never had an orgasm with anything, or anyone, inside of me. I’ve read enough to know that not everyone has the same g-spot sensations, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t tried to figure it out. And apparently I’m really good at faking it.

Why do I have a feeling Tommy isn’t going to be satisfied with me faking it? I’m both thrilled and terrified at that prospect.

Pulling out my phone, I go with my gut, for once, before I can overthink things.

Sam: I enjoyed our not-date. Cheers to the hot wings champion of the year!

Something about Tommy makes me feel brave, and I’m going to lean into that. I’m going to stop hiding.

Maybe not stopping altogether, old habits die hard and all…

But still, this fresh start in Greenstone might mean more than just doing what I love. It might mean a happier Samantha, too.

“Sam,” Hank calls out. “You’ve been working without moving for at least two hours. We can’t have you developing carpal tunnel anytime soon.”

Wrapping up the sentence in the email I’m replying to, I look up. Oof. The last time I looked at the clock on the wall was almost three hours ago.

“I guess I was in the zone,” I tell him.

“You’re easily the most efficient person we’ve ever had, but you need a break. Why don’t you take a long lunch and start now?”

Hank holds up one hand as my mouth opens to protest. “I insist. Until we get the budget approved, you’ll have blown through your entire year’s worth of duties by the end of this month, we have to spread things out and I won’t let you work ahead without getting compensated, Sam.”

My cheeks heat at the mention of how far ahead I am. I used to be paranoid about how much I was doing each hour and found when I hide the clock on my computer, I get in the zone so much better and my productivity almost doubled.