Page 8 of Scoop Me Up (Love in Maplewood #7)

Gabe

I froze as my gaze met Sam’s. All I had on was a towel, wrapped firmly around my waist, water dripping from my hair onto my shoulders. I burned with the heat of embarrassment, feeling it crawling up my neck and face, warming my ears. For a moment, all either of us could do was stare at the other.

After a second, Sam spun to face the door. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” they called over their shoulder.

“I’ll be right back,” I blurted before retreating into my bedroom, nearly slamming the door shut in my hurry.

I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my back to the door, my heart racing, and took a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

As my heart rate returned to normal, I took a few more shaky breaths.

Sam had seen me nearly naked and all I could do was hope they’d pretend it never happened.

My gut twisted when I thought about the way our gazes had met, a strange sensation creeping in.

I shook my head to shake off the feeling.

When I felt a little steadier, I straightened up and locked the bedroom door behind me before heading back to my bathroom to finish getting ready.

Once I was clean and dry, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a fitted V-neck, taking one last glance in the mirror before unlocking the door and emerging from my bedroom.

“Ellie? Sam?”

“In here,” Sam’s voice called.

I found the two of them sitting in the living room, Ellie playing on the floor with a pair of dolls. Sam jumped to their feet, tucking their phone away.

“I’m so sorry,” they repeated.

I shook my head and waved away the apology, hoping I looked casual, not as tightly wound as I felt.

“It’s fine. Totally my fault.” Once again, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Sam’s for several long moments.

Finally, I cleared my throat and forced myself to look at Ellie instead. “Whatcha doing down there, El?”

She looked up at me, a smile on her face lighting up her light blue eyes. “They’re getting married.”

I looked more closely at Ellie’s dolls—both male dolls—and smiled at her. “Are they now?”

With a sincere nod, she turned back to her toys. “Now you’re husbands.” She pressed their faces together and made kissing noises.

My stomach squirmed and my breath hitched, though I couldn’t pinpoint why. After another moment, I looked back up at Sam, a desperation to change the subject surging through me. “Hungry?”

They nodded. “Very. I brought dessert. It’s in the freezer already. I hope that’s okay.”

“Ice cream?”

A grin spread over their face. “Two kinds.”

“I can’t wait to try.” We stood awkwardly for a few seconds. “You want to come hang in the kitchen while I finish up the meal?”

“Sure, of course.” Sam thrust their hands into their pockets and it was then that I noticed what they were wearing.

Tight black jeans that showed off their muscular legs and ass, and a black tank top that revealed similarly muscular arms. The moment the thought raced through my mind, it occurred to me that I probably shouldn’t be checking out Sam’s ass.

Heat washed over me and I took a steadying breath before leading the way into the kitchen. “Dinner’s in the slow cooker. I just need to finish up a few things.”

Sam took a seat at our kitchen table and turned a chair to watch me work. I got to it, turning the cooktop on medium and dropping in the ingredients for braised carrots. As I got started, Sam stayed quiet, but not for long.

“I feel like I should be helping or something,” they confessed.

I shrugged. “It’s fine. You’re a guest. Besides, you won the bet and the deal was for me to cook you dinner.”

“I still feel like I should be doing something besides sitting here.”

Lifting the pan off the eye, I shook it, making sure the carrots were coated in the maple syrup and butter sauce that was simmering in the pan. “You could set the table,” I suggested, putting the pan back on the eye.

Sam jumped to their feet. “I’d love to.”

“Great. Silverware is in that drawer.” I pointed. “And Jennifer likes using cloth napkins. They’re in this one next to me.”

Sam grabbed silverware and set it out on the table carefully as I tended to the carrots.

Once that was done, they made their way to the drawer with the kitchen linens and slid it open.

As they pulled out several of the cloth napkins and I lifted the pan to toss the carrots again, their arm brushed against mine.

My breath caught in my throat and I froze as Sam pulled away quickly.

“Oh,” they blurted. “I didn’t mean to get in your way. I wasn’t thinking about the hot pan and all.” There was an awkward silence for a second before Sam spoke again. “Um, plates?”

I pointed to the cabinet to the right of the sink. “There.”

We finished the rest of the meal prep in silence, the only sounds the sizzling from my pan and the clinking of flatware on ceramic plates. When the carrots were done, I put them in a small bowl and brought the bowl to the table. Before I could say anything, Sam ducked out of my line of sight.

“I’ll get Ellie.”

I quickly put out the rest of the meal—potatoes, pot roast, and dinner rolls—and by the time that was done, Ellie and Sam had returned.

Dinner conversation was light, the tension and awkwardness slowly dissolving. “What did you do today, Ellie?” Sam asked.

Ellie shrugged. “I played with Elsa and Arya.” She chattered about what they had done during their playdate and as she did, I let myself relax and unwind a little.

When Ellie stopped talking, I asked Sam the same question. “How about you? What do Maplewood teachers do on their days off?”

“Lesson plans. But I worked on a business plan, too, for the ice cream shop.”

“How was that?”

Sam exhaled through their nose and shrugged one shoulder. “Hard. I’m not sure I know what I’m doing, but it’s got to be done. I want to get it done sooner than later, so I can start to seek out investors. I’m going to need a lot more than that five-thousand-dollar grant to get started, after all.”

I hesitated for only a second. “I could help you. With the business plan, I mean.” I wanted to offer myself as an investor, but it felt like that would be too much.

“You don’t have to do that,” Sam said, waving their hand to dismiss the idea. “I’m sure you have more important things to do.”

“I really don’t mind. That’s what I do. I’m sure I could help you find an investor or two.

” Like me, I thought. Let me invest in the shop.

It felt weird even thinking it. I was sure Sam would decline, considering we barely knew each other—not that you needed to be close friends with an investor for things to work out.

Sam nodded slowly. “Okay, then. I’ll take you up on that.” They looked down at their plate briefly, where their carrots and pot roast were swimming in a thin gravy, then up at me again. “Can you pass the rolls? I need something to mop up this sauce with. It’s so good.”

“Sure.” I grabbed the basket and held it out to them, and as they reached to take the basket out of my hand, their fingers brushed mine. A lump immediately formed in my throat, my chest tightening. For a second, neither of us moved, our fingers touching as we both held on to the bread basket.

“Daddy, may I be excused now?”

Ellie’s voice shattered the moment and we both pulled away at the same time, the bread basket turning over, bread tumbling to the floor.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“Oh no,” Sam said at the same time. “That’s my fault. I’m sorry. I can be really clumsy sometimes.”

I took a steadying breath. “Ellie, why don’t you help me clean up the rolls while Mix gets out dessert?”

“Dessert,” she exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and hurrying to my side to pick up the bread.

Sam pushed their chair back and stood. “That sounds like a great plan.” A few minutes later, Sam was serving us bowls of ice cream, two scoops in each. As we ate, Sam told us more about the ice cream creation process and how easy it was to make ice cream at home in small batches.

“Can you teach me how to make ice cream, Mix?”

“Don’t you already know how? Didn’t your dad teach you for the contest?”

She shrugged. “I just picked the flavor. Daddy did the hard stuff.”

With a grin and a sincere nod, Sam booped Ellie on the nose. “Of course I can. Next time, though, okay? It’s getting late and I bet it’s almost your bedtime.”

Ellie sighed dramatically and put her spoon down, her bowl of ice cream nearly empty. “Do I have to?”

I glanced at the clock on the stove. “Unfortunately, you do.”

“But tomorrow’s Sunday,” she protested.

Picking up my napkin, I reached out to her and wiped her mouth to remove remnants of chocolate and marshmallow. “Go get ready for bed, please,” I said firmly. At that, Ellie got up and headed toward her bedroom, sighing again.

“I mean, tomorrow is Sunday,” Sam pointed out.

“Not you, too. She’s a monster if she doesn’t get enough sleep.”

Sam chuckled and the laugh made my chest feel light for a moment. “Fair,” they said before taking one final bite of their ice cream. As they did, chocolate dripped onto their chin from the scoop of s’mores.

Without thinking, I reached over and wiped their face with my napkin, clearing the drip away, Sam still chuckling.

Their laughter faded as they froze. I realized what I was doing and pulled back as if I’d been burned.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” It felt like all we’d been doing all night was apologizing to one another.

Sam’s voice was quiet when they spoke. “It’s not a problem. Can I help you with the dishes?” They pushed their chair out and began to gather our bowls and plates.

“It’s okay, just put them in the sink. I’ll load up the dishwasher later.”

We cleaned up silently, the tension back between us, as I internally beat myself up for being so weird and awkward. What was I thinking ? The truth was, I hadn’t been thinking. Somehow, whenever I was near Sam, my usually clear mind turned to static.

Just as we finished up, Ellie’s voice echoed down the hall. “Daddy, I’m ready for my story.”

“Be there in a sec,” I called back. Sam and I stood, watching each other, my hands stuffed in my pockets where I thought I'd be safe from reaching out for any random touches.

“Thanks again for dinner,” Sam said quietly.

“Congratulations on your win.”

“Daddy,” Ellie yelled again.

I laughed and tipped my head in her direction. “Guess I’d better go take care of that story.”

Sam nodded, still quiet. A beat passed, silence stretching between us, my heart thumping fiercely and my stomach doing somersaults. What was wrong with me?

“Good night,” Sam murmured finally. “I can let myself out. You go read that story.”

“Good night,” I echoed, and headed down the hall toward Ellie. The click of the front door shutting behind me rang in my ears, leaving me feeling weirdly empty. I read Ellie her story and tucked her into bed, kissing her on the forehead before turning out the light. “Night, Bug.”

She yawned. “Night.”

I headed back to the living room and sat on the couch, the house feeling huge and the aloneness nearly suffocating me. As I pulled my phone out to scroll mindlessly for a few minutes, I caught sight of a text I’d missed during dinner, from Ellie’s mom.

Jennifer: Bad news—John and I broke up. Good news—I’m headed home. I’ll be back tomorrow.

I stared at the text for a second or two.

Somehow, it made me feel even more alone, knowing my ex-wife was coming back into town early.

I didn’t think it would be a good idea for me to stick around in her house while she was there.

It felt too close to moving back in together and I didn’t want to give Ellie the wrong idea.

The split had been mutual and amicable, but definitely a final decision, and the last thing we wanted was for Ellie to get her hopes up that we’d get back together.

I tapped out a quick, sympathetic response before heading to bed in the guest room, my chest aching.