His Lucky Break

Northern California Cowboys

Erin Parisien

Purrfect Publishing

Copyright

His Lucky Break. Copyright © 2022 Erin Parisien.

His Saving Grace excerpt. Copyright © 2022 Erin Parisien.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 978-1-7778878-5-8 (Paperback)

ISBN: 978-1-7778878-4-1 (Ebook)

Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

Front cover image by Alan Pulson via Depositphotos.

Cover design by Sarah Kil Creative Studio.

First printing edition 2022.

Purrfect Publishing

11923 NE Sumner St

STE 931889

Portland, Oregon, 97250, USA

erinparisien.com

Dedication

For Nancy and Lisa, who loved Sam and Cassie as much as I did.

About The Book

Can Cassie survive the emotional roller-coaster of being trapped in the mountains with the cowboy who broke her heart?

Cassie fell head over heels for cowboy, Sam Baptiste, when she was sixteen and visiting her cousin in Redding, California. His rejection shattered her heart, and she’s spent the last ten years ignoring love. Sam showed her leading with her heart is dangerous, and she’s grateful to him. But now they’re stuck on the same train. Good thing the train is long and she has a ton of work to keep her busy and away from Sam.

Sam never expected to run into the girl who’d snuck into his place a decade ago and tried to seduce him. Or to be forced to travel with her on a weekend train trip along the West Coast. The problem – Cassie’s all grown up now, far too fascinating, and most likely hates his guts. But when an obstruction on the tracks traps them together in the mountains, they’re each forced to confront not only past hurts, but also the simmering spark between them.

Author's Note

Although this story is fictional, it is inspired by the real-life Coast Starlight getting stuck in the Oregon mountains a few years ago. When I imagined the story initially, it was going to take place in Europe, between countries and strangers. And then Sam and Cassie barged in and insisted they wanted this to be their happily ever after. Who was I to say no?

While I have been on an Amtrak train before, I’ve never been on the Coast Starlight (although now I really want to!). I have exaggerated the size of the bedrooms a little bit, and downplayed the size and comfort level of the seats in coach, mostly because I needed Sam and Cassie to have enough space to move around, and for Sam to need a reason to want to sleep in Cassie’s room. I think a little artistic license to ensure an only-one-bed scenario is totally worth it. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 1

Sam stood next to the door of the metro train, waiting for the stupid thing to start moving again, trying not to feel like he was about to be buried alive under most of Seattle. The train had been about to pull into International Station, which, according to the concierge at the hotel, was a five-minute walk from the Amtrak station, when it had suddenly stopped for no apparent reason.

He glanced at his watch. The Amtrak train left in like half an hour, which was plenty of time. But he hated being rushed. This whole thing had been a clusterfuck right from the start.

Who the hell decided their honeymoon would involve a ridiculous thirty five hour train trip through three different states? His dumb youngest brother, that’s who. Of course, he couldn’t be too liberal with the name calling, since he’d let Charlie and Annabeth, his brand-new sister-in-law, talk him into taking the train with them on his way back to Redding.

Annabeth had heard how beautiful a trip on the Coast Starlight—the train that travelled the fourteen hundred miles between Seattle and Los Angeles—was and had her heart set on taking the trip for part of her and Charlie’s honeymoon. And since Charlie could never say no to her… At least they were spending some time in Southern California when they finally got off the rolling tin can.

He glanced at his watch again. It had only been three minutes, but already sweat prickled the back of his neck. He didn’t like enclosed spaces. They made him feel antsy and claustrophobic at the best of times. He’d planned on flying back to Redding, which wasn’t ideal with the whole walls-closing-in-on-him thing, but at least the trip was just under two hours.

Unfortunately, he’d been overruled.

No, not overruled. Ambushed. Somehow, he’d let Charlie talk him into taking the seven times longer, and twice the price train trip, instead. There may have been guilt involved. Talk of how the two of them never got to spend any time together anymore, and how it would be a great bonding experience.

It was all a load of shit, but Sam still managed to get sucked in. Mainly because he was an idiot.

Somehow, their middle brother, Michael, had wormed his way out of the journey. He was flying back home to New England, since he had to return to work. Being a professional hockey player took precedence over being the third wheel on his brother’s honeymoon. Their sister, Shelby, was meeting her current boyfriend in Vancouver instead of returning home to Los Angeles with them. That just left him. And because he was always the one looking out for his siblings, he’d caved.

Like an idiot.

The subway-wannabe lurched forward. He stumbled, because he wasn’t holding onto anything—rookie mistake, one of many he’d already made over the last few days in the city. Talk about feeling like a country hick. He wasn’t good with the tall buildings and closed-in spaces and people all up in everyone else’s business. He liked wide open spaces, room to breathe. A horse underneath him was a bonus.

His elbow hit the back of the woman standing next to him. The force knocked her forward. He grabbed her without thinking, his fingers wrapping around her upper arm to stop her fall.

She stiffened, yanked her arm out of his grip, and spun around.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice sounding loud in the almost silent train. “I wasn’t expecting—”

She looked up into his face, and for a second, it was ten years ago. He was standing in his darkened one room cabin. She was naked, the light of the full moon bathing her creamy skin in a soft, stunning glow.

“Cassie?” Her name came out a little too low, a little too raspy, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

She blinked a number of times, her mouth open, as if she was about to say something but couldn’t get the words out. Time crept to a stop. She stared at him like she couldn’t quite believe she was looking at him again after all these years. Then, from one slow, painful heartbeat to the next, her mask descended. Her features smoothed out, the crease between her brows vanished, her mouth slid shut.

The last to disappear was the shock and hurt in her eyes.

He could understand the shock. It had been more than a decade since they’d been in the same room together. And the hurt? Well, that was his fault. No doubt about that. Guilt slid under his skin, making him feel itchy and uncomfortable. Well, more uncomfortable than he was already feeling about everything else.

“Sam.” She gave him a clipped nod, one that matched her cool tone. Clearly, there’d be no joyous hugs, or even tearful reprimands. Not that he was surprised. He didn’t deserve anything from her. In fact, he would’ve thought she’d forgotten all about him, if it hadn’t been for that small sliver of hurt in her gaze a moment ago.

The train pulled to a stop at the station and the door whooshed open. Without saying anything else, she picked up her roller bag, stepped onto the platform, and disappeared into the crowd.

Cassie hurried across the train station platform, her heart smacking against her ribs to match the quick rhythm of her steps. A run in with Sam Baptiste was not how she’d wanted to end this weekend. She’d spent all day yesterday at her cousin Annabeth’s wedding avoiding him, making sure to stay out of his orbit.

Before arriving in Seattle, she’d prepared for the inevitability that Sam would be at the wedding. The plan had been to be all indifferent and composed. She’d even practiced what she was going to say to him in her head so many times, she’d memorized the words. She’d picked out a killer dress, one that made her feel confident and sexy. And may or may not have been chosen based on how bad she’d wanted him to feel about saying no all those years ago.

Everything had been planned, set to be executed on her terms.

And then she’d sat there, on the uncomfortable church pew, her eyes locked on his tall, lean frame, and she’d chickened out. All the old hurt and humiliation had rushed through her, and she was instantly sixteen again. Standing there, offering her heart and her body to him. And having him throw it all back in her face.

She knew in that moment that coming to the wedding had been a mistake.

So, she’d spent the entire day tucked into a corner, trying not to look conspicuous, or draw any attention to herself, just in case Sam noticed her. Which was ridiculous. At the time, she’d known she was giving him too much power, but she’d already been feeling fragile after a pretty crappy week.

Sam was basically the sour cherry on the top of an already spoiled sundae.

She stepped onto the escalator up to the ground level and pulled her roller bag onto the step behind her. Why was she even letting this stuff with Sam bother her? It had been more than ten years ago and she’d been a stupid teenager. So what if she’d poured her poor, foolish little heart out to him and he’d humiliated her? She was an adult now, one who didn’t let her heart, or the foolish idea of love, rule her life anymore.

She should be thanking Sam for teaching her such a valuable lesson all those years ago.

The weird ache at the base of her throat proved she was a massive liar.

She strode off the escalator at street level and made a bee-line for the front door. Suddenly, fresh air was the most important thing on her list. She burst onto the sidewalk, gulping in a lungful of the cold, moist air.

The sun was shining today, the weak winter light doing nothing for the temperature. It still felt damp and wet, even though there was no rain in sight. She suddenly missed Los Angeles, and its dry, even temperatures something fierce. Her heart had finally stopped trying to beat its way out between her ribs, and she actually felt like she could breathe again.

Why had she let Annabeth talk her into this stupid train trip? It wasn’t like Anna didn’t have her new husband and a few of their friends on the train with her. Cassie had been expecting to come to the city for the wedding, and then be done with it. In and out, quick and painless. She and Annabeth weren’t close, not anymore. Not since that summer, ten years ago.

Yeah, they were cousins, but their relationship had changed as they grew, and the distance between them had slowly increased the longer the years stretched by. The obligatory card for a birthday, a quick phone call at the holidays, a laughing gif on a funny social media post.

Dammit. Why was she hashing this all out now? While she was standing on the street in a strange city, heading for a nightmare weekend trapped on a train with people she barely knew? She was being ridiculous. And it was all Sam Baptiste’s fault.

Running into him had brought up all this crap. The humiliation and embarrassment she’d refused to think about while she was getting her degree. And then while she was working hard, trying to make a name for herself as a graphic designer. She didn’t have time to worry about all the stuff she’d left behind on that long, hot, Northern California summer.

She glanced at her watch. The train was scheduled to leave in about half an hour, which should give her enough time to grab a coffee. This was Seattle. Wasn’t there a Starbucks on every corner? Maybe the caffeine and sugar in a massive mocha would help with her foul mood.

The walk light felt like it took forever to change. She stood there, tapping her foot against the sidewalk in an impatient rhythm. Her mind was just as antsy as her body. Why did the universe hate her? There was no other explanation for the shit-storm her life had somehow been caught up in this past week.

After the stress of ducking and weaving around the reception yesterday, she’d hoped the worst was behind her.

But no. Today she’d turned around and those familiar brown eyes were staring at her on the metro, and suddenly she was falling, all her good intentions and what she would say to Sam swept out right from under her feet. She smacked into the ground and was sixteen again, so stupidly in love with him that she could hardly see straight. God, she’d been such a fool.

The light finally changed, and she hurried across the street. The Amtrak station was a couple of blocks over from the metro station, which was the reason she’d taken transit instead of a rideshare. What were the chances that she and Sam would be on the same stupid train at the same stupid time?

Icy dread slipped down her spine and she stopped dead on the opposite sidewalk. A woman behind her let out a tremendous sigh and stepped around Cassie and her suitcase, like it was the most inconvenient thing in the world. Cassie didn’t care.

Please let him be going to the airport. She sent the silent plea to the universe, hoping someone would finally take pity on her, let something go her way. The metro went directly to the airport, so it was completely plausible he was headed that way.

She pulled a deep breath in through her nose. With her recent streak of bad luck, running into him, right by the Amtrak station, couldn’t be any sort of coincidence. Which meant…

She turned her head to look back at the station entrance.

There he stood, bathed in the sunlight, like some ridiculous, old timey god in a cheesy movie. And looking more than a little lost.

Part of her wanted to run. And keep running until she was safely back in Los Angeles, and Sam was the furthest thing from her mind. She could send her apologies to Annabeth and be back where it was safe before she knew it. All she’d need to do would be sneak back into the station and she could put all of this behind her.

Her therapist’s words from their last session floated through her mind. Running away from your problems doesn’t make them go away, Cassie. And you’re never going to run far enough, or fast enough, to leave them behind completely. They’ll always be there, waiting for you. Usually, when you least expect it, and often with a bunch of friends you weren’t planning on dealing with.

She tipped her head back to stare at the frosty blue sky and blew out a breath. Stupid therapy and finding her better self. Whose idea had that been? Was personal growth really all it was cracked up to be?

She glanced back at Sam. A small, petty part of her wanted to leave him there, forget she’d run into him, and hope he missed the train. She tightened her hand on her suitcase and turned toward the Amtrak station.

Guilt flooded through her and, before she could take a step, her body was already turning back around. Dammit.

“Sam?” She yelled his name across the street, lifting her free hand in a wave. “Sam? Over here.”

His head swiveled toward her. She couldn’t see his expression from all the way over here, so she had no idea what he was thinking. But after a second, he gave a quick nod and headed in her direction.

She tried not to stare as he walked toward her, but it was hard. He moved with grace, same as he always had, all lean lines and long legs. The distance between them disappeared quickly, and before she knew it, he was standing in front of her. All six foot two of him.

She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. Even though she was five foot six, and more on the curvy side of things, he made her feel petite.

And completely out of sorts.

She hadn’t got a good look at him on the train since her brain had short-circuited her back to her teenage years, so she took a moment now.

The years had been good to him. His face had thinned out, his stunning cheekbones and jaw even more pronounced. Somewhere along the way, his nose had been broken, leaving a small bump on the bridge. The slight imperfection gave him a rugged appeal, made him look more real. Because, really, no one should be so handsome.

He wasn’t wearing a cowboy hat, which was surprising, because on the ranch it had seemed like a permanent fixture on his head. She could hardly ever remember seeing him without his hat. It was too bad he wasn’t wearing it now, because he looked good in a cowboy hat.

His black hair was cut short, a few silver strands mixed in at the temples. Very hot. The laugh lines at the corners of his eyes gave him a maturity he’d been lacking all those years ago. A sophistication. Damn, why’d he have to look so fantastic?

“Thanks, Cassie,” he said, his voice all deep and sexy. The jerk. “And again, I’m really sorry about bumping into you on the train.”

She waved her hand. “It’s fine.” She tried to keep the frost out of her voice, but she didn’t quite manage it. Clearly, the wounds ran deeper than she’d convinced herself they did.

He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around. The awkwardness between them was almost palpable.

“So,” she said, keeping her voice light this time. She tried to relax her back and shoulders, but wasn’t quite able to project that level of calm. “I see you got roped into this whole train thing, too, huh?”

One side of his mouth lifted in the hint of a smile. She knew that if he really smiled, a dimple would appear in his left cheek. “Yeah. It wouldn’t have been my first choice.” He shifted his grip on the duffle bag he was carrying. Her gaze drifted to his hands. His long fingers. The callouses would be rough against her skin…

She snapped her gaze back to his and cleared her throat. Her cheeks tingled, heat crawling across her chest and up her neck. “I guess we’d better get going, huh? Wouldn’t want to miss the train or anything.” Her voice was low and rough, which made her cheeks flame hotter.

“Yeah, that would be a tragedy.” Sarcasm practically dripped from the words. She understood the sentiment far too well. This wasn’t really her idea of a great time, either. But Annabeth was her cousin and, at one time, they’d been as close as sisters. This was what you did for family.

Besides, it was only a couple of days. She could survive a couple of days. She could even survive a couple of days being nice to Sam. It was the least she could do, for not only Annabeth, but for herself. Yeah, he’d humiliated her, and broken her fragile heart, but it was so long ago. It was time she put the whole thing behind her and moved on. No better way to do that than to act like an adult.

“Come on,” she said, and turned in the direction of the station. She could feel Sam behind her. Not because he was in her space or anything, it was more an every-cell-in-her-body-was-crackling-with-electricity-because-of-his-nearness feeling.

Her head may be convinced she was no longer affected by Sam Baptiste, but her body clearly had other ideas.

She had a feeling this may turn out to be the longest two days of her life.

Chapter 2

Sam followed Cassie through the sliding doors of the Amtrak station and out onto the train platform. Hopefully she knew where they were going, because he sure as hell didn’t. It was busy and noisy and almost instantly, a headache pulsed to life in his temples. For the millionth time today, he was regretting letting Charlie talk him into this.

His gaze bounced back to Cassie. She was wearing a short pink coat and pair of tight jeans, the dark denim doing things to her ass that would bring any man to his knees. In the years since he’d last seen her, she’d filled out some, her curves turning into the dangerous kind. Lush and soft. She’s always been pretty, with her dark hair and grey eyes. But now she was drop-dead gorgeous.

As if she knew what he was thinking, she tossed him a look over her shoulder. He couldn’t read her expression, so he just stared at her, trying not to look guilty.

All he was doing by thinking this shit was making things awkward.

But damn, she looked good.

And he needed to keep it in his pants, all ridiculous and inappropriateness locked down tight. He was lucky she was even speaking to him. Not that he’d blame her if she decided not to, or if she chose to make this super weird. No point in making things extra tense.

He assumed this was a big train, as far as trains went, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be bumping into one another. Especially since they were both here for Charlie and Annabeth. Ruining his brother’s weird honeymoon weekend thing because of something that had happened a decade ago would be dumb.

“You didn’t get a sleeping room?”

Her question was innocent enough, but his hormones sat up and panted like a big old hound dog, anyway. The idea of Cassie and him in one of those cramped little quarters, taking up all the space, nowhere for either of them to go. Steaming up the windows…

He shook his head, both to clear the unwelcome thoughts, and as an answer to her question. “No, I’m actually getting off the train in Redding. Heading back to work. Since it’s only about fourteen hours, I figured I could rough it.”

“Oh, okay.” She nodded, and he could have sworn there was disappointment in her voice. Which couldn’t be right. Why would she be disappointed? The idea should thrill her. He wouldn’t be around making things awkward. Reminding her of the mistakes she’d made in the past. Or, in his case, tried to make.

“Yeah, there’s no rest for a cowboy.” He tried to keep his voice light, teasing. He wasn’t sure how well he managed, as it wasn’t usually his go to. It must have worked somewhat, because the corner of her mouth lifted.

“You still working at the Triple C?”

He nodded, his chest filling with an unexpected warmth. “Yeah, I was just promoted to foreman last year.” He’d been working for the Callahans for the last sixteen years, since he graduated from high school. Started as a hand and worked his way through the ranks.

“Mr. Callahan still as grumpy as ever?”

“He passed last fall,” he said, his voice rough. While Cal Callahan had a lot of jagged edges, he’d been a fair boss and, deep down, a good man. The ranch had been his life, his reason for living, often to the detriment of his relationship with his family, however. His oldest son, Mason, had joined the army right out of high school and hadn’t been back since. And as far as Sam knew—cowboys had a tendency to be as gossipy as old ladies were accused of being—they hadn’t spoken since. While Sam hadn’t been exceptionally close to the rancher, his loss was still a sore spot.

Cassie stopped and turned to face him. “Aww, Sam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

He shrugged. “How could you? I don’t expect that you’d be keeping up with the goings on in Redding and the surrounding ranches.” Suddenly, he had no idea what to do with his hands, so he shoved them in his pockets. “It isn’t like you have anything there anymore.”

Her cousin Annabeth had moved away when she’d graduated from high school and headed off to university in Washington State, and then her parents had moved to Arizona not long after that.

It was clearly the wrong thing to say. Almost instantly, Cassie went rigid, her shoulders stiffening so much he was afraid they might crack.

He wasn’t sure what he’d said wrong, but he opened his mouth to apologize for whatever it was, when an ear-piercing, only-dogs-can-hear squeal bounced across the platform. He winced and turned toward the sound.

His sister-in-law was barreling toward them, her pink and blonde hair flying behind her. The smile on her face was radiant, and not for the first time, he counted his brother an incredibly lucky man. Not only was Annabeth stunning, but she was smart and sassy to boot. What she saw in his doofus of a brother was a mystery.

Annabeth tore past him—he tried to get out of her way, but there really wasn’t anywhere to go—and somehow, he got an elbow to the gut for his trouble. She launched herself at Cassie, who stumbled back a bit on impact. The smile on Cassie’s face could only be described as radiant.

For a second, he was dazzled.

Someone clapped him on the shoulder and he glanced back to see his brother standing next to him, an indulgent smile on his face.

Sometimes he had trouble reconciling this grown-ass adult, who was an environmental lawyer—and a damn good one—with the same little kid with the runny nose and skinned knees that used to follow him around, begging Sam to play with him.

“Hey, Squirt.” Sam nudged his brother with his shoulder.

Charlie rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “I’m never going to get you to stop calling me that, am I?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s been thirty years. If I haven’t stopped now, you can bet I’m not going to anytime soon.”

Annabeth and Cassie were having an excited conversation, completely oblivious to everyone around them. Well, Annabeth was talking. Cassie was mostly listening and nodding.

Charlie nudged him in the ribs with his elbow, probably with a little more force than necessary. Sam rubbed his side and turned back toward his brother. He hadn’t realized he’d turned to look at Cassie.

“Sorry about the change of plans,” his brother said with a shrug. “I know this isn’t your idea of a good time.”

Sam jabbed Charlie back with his elbow. “It’s fine,” he said, and he actually meant it. Regardless of all his bitching, he loved his brother and would always support him, no matter what. “Besides, it’s definitely going to be an adventure. And this is something I wouldn’t have ever done on my own.”

“Baby?” Annabeth’s voice cut right through their conversation. “We’re going to go and get Cassie and I settled in our rooms. Meet you guys in the lounge in like half an hour?”

When they were at the check-in counter, Sam had overheard that Cassie had reserved a fancy bedroom room thing like Charlie and Anna had, since she’d be on the train for the entire trip as well, which was something like thirty-seven hours. Way too long. The idea practically gave him hives. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive the hours it would take to get to Redding. No way he’d make it almost another full day.

“Sounds like a plan, love.” The mushy look on his brother’s face was sickening.

Annabeth ushered Cassie forward, chattering away as they headed toward their train car. Sam tried not to think about that sleeping car, and all the things they could get up to in there over the next twelve hours or so.

“Come on,” Charlie said, giving him another nudge. “Let’s go find your seat and then we’ll go and get a drink.”

Sam smiled and indicated Charlie should go ahead of him with a sweep of his hand. Mainly because he didn’t know where the hell he was going. “That, Squirt, is the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Charlie led him to the second to last car, and they climbed on board. Walking onto the train felt like he was walking into a tin can. A tin can with recycled air and walls that were closing in on him. He hated this, being cooped up without any fresh air and barely able to move without bumping into something. Flying was probably his least favorite thing in the world, but he had a feeling taking the train might be a very close second. He much preferred his truck, or a horse, as a means of transportation.

The Amtrak employee—he wasn’t sure how to refer to them, because steward didn’t seem quite right—greeted them with a smile and directed Sam to the area where he could store his bag.

He stashed his bag in the baggage area, making sure he had his wallet and his phone on him. Not that he expected there to be a whole lot of coverage up in the mountains, but if he got bored, he could maybe play a game or something. He didn’t know if his brother had shit for them to do on the train or not. Not that he had any delusions that Charlie had anything to do with any of this. This entire escapade had Annabeth written all over it.

When he was done, he turned and banged his shoulder on the sharp corner of the narrow passageway. A foul curse tingled on his tongue, but he swallowed it back. No need to be so disrespectful. He had to remember he wasn’t hanging out on the ranch with a bunch of uncultured cowboys.

The main problem was that the train felt cramped and crowded, like he needed to duck his head to stop from banging it on the ceiling. Logically, he knew that wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t stop the way his shoulders stooped and rolled inward. An ache was already building in his back.

His crappy mood was not helped by the fact that Cassie’s flowery, feminine scent haunted him. It was taking every ounce of willpower he possessed not to find her, sit down and talk with her, maybe do a little flirting.

Clearly, he had a death wish. The woman hated him. Just because she’d been courteous so far didn’t mean anything. She was a nice person, that was all.

They climbed up to the second floor. He found his seat and sat, waiting for the attendant to come and scan his ticket. Charlie dropped into the seat next to him and pulled out his phone. Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. So much for hoping this weekend would be a chance to spend some quality time with his brother, who he didn’t get to see as often as he’d like.

“Why don’t you go and help Annabeth?” He kicked Charlie’s foot.

Charlie turned to him with a frown. “You sure?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m sure. I promise, I can handle showing the attendant my ticket, you little shit.” The exasperation in his voice was nothing new when dealing with his little brother. “Go and be with your wife.”

“My wife.” Charlie grinned and jumped to his feet. “Fine, asshole. But I expect to see your ass in the sightseeing car for drinks later.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Go.” Sam waved him away, but couldn’t help the answering grin that spread across his own face. Seeing his brother so elated made him happy.

Charlie punched him in the shoulder, hard enough to hurt, and then turned and hurried down the aisle. Sam’s grin turned to a scowl, and he rubbed at his shoulder. The little turd had probably left a bruise. The next time Sam saw him, he was getting his revenge.

He sat back in the seat. His knee jumped with excess energy that felt an awful lot like nervousness. He didn’t know what that was about. Must be his claustrophobic tendencies. Had absolutely nothing to do with spending the day with Cassie. Because that would be ridiculous.

The view out the window was uninspiring. He pulled out his phone. The signal was strong here in the city. He fired off a quick text to Simon, his friend-turned-boss. Simon had offered to pick him up at the station in Redding, even though Sam wasn’t scheduled to get there until the middle of the night. Sam had tried to let Simon off the hook, but the stubborn ass had refused to take no for an answer.

With nothing else to do, at least until someone officially checked him in, he switched over to the dumb battle game Charlie had downloaded on his phone when Sam wasn’t looking. At least it would help kill some time.

The game turned out to be kind of fun, and he quickly got lost in the strategy. Before he knew it, the attendant was standing next to his seat. “Ticket, please?”

Closing the game, he opened his digital ticket. The attendant scanned it and then smiled at him.

“Thank you. I hope you have a great trip. And thank you for choosing Amtrak.”

Sam nodded.

The intercom overhead crackled. “Good afternoon, passengers. Please be advised that there will be a delay in our departure today. We are working to get things settled and will be on our way as soon as possible. Thank you for your patience.”

He tilted his head back to rest against the seat. The couple behind him groaned, and there was a bit of fuss from the family across the way. A baby started crying, and he winced. Fuck, this was going to be a long trip.

The attendant walked by again and Sam flagged her down. “Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to the sightseeing car?” He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he had a feeling the next few hours might call for an exception.

Lord, save him from small children and women with a grudge. He needed all the outside help he could get.

Cassie tossed her roller bag on the bench seat of her bedroom. Dina, the attendant assigned to her car, had just gone through her whole spiel about amenities and services and expectations, and Cassie was lucky if she’d caught half of it. Not that she had a problem with Dina or anything, she was just dealing with a lot of stuff at the moment.

The crap currently whirling through her brain included her job, or lack thereof, the email she’d received this morning about the contract position at the publishing house, Sam, and the fact they were going to be stuck on this train together for at least the next twelve hours.

She was exhausted already, and they hadn’t even left yet.

“So,” Annabeth said, a teasing, sing-songy note in her voice. “You and Sam seemed to be getting reacquainted, all cozy like.”

Cassie glanced over her shoulder and gave her cousin, who was standing in the doorway, a fierce side-eye. Anna and Charlie’s room was two doors down. “We ran into each other on the way to the train station. I was just showing him where to go.”

“Sure you were,” she said, and wiggled her eyebrows. Which was completely unconvincing, because she was terrible at it and just looked ridiculous.

Cassie rolled her eyes, but laughed anyway. God, she’d missed this so much. How had she let their relationship become so distant?

You know how and why. You just refuse to accept it was all your fault.

She tossed aside that unhappy thought and tried to bring back the giddy, silliness from moments ago. But the feeling had evaporated as soon as the dark thought crossed her mind.

“I saw the way he was staring at you, Cass. He’s clearly interested.”

Panic and hurt and humiliation washed through her, followed by the tiniest sliver of something that ridiculously felt like pleasure. So stupid. And Anna was clearly wrong. No way in hell Sam had looked at her with anything other than fondness. He’d made his lack of interest abundantly clear the last time they were in the same room together.

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but you’re wrong.” Cassie tried to sound indifferent, although she wasn’t sure she achieved it, given the way the words were a bit ragged around the edges.

Anna opened her mouth, probably to say something cheeky, but was interrupted by Charlie’s arrival.

“Hello, beautiful wife of mine.” He stepped up beside Anna and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her against him.

Anna grinned up at him, and the radiance flowing off her was almost blinding. “Good morning, good husband.”

Cassie wanted to gag. Just barely held back. It was just so sickeningly mushy.

She was happy for her cousin, she truly was, but she couldn’t deny the streak of jealousy that flashed through her when she thought about Anna and everything she’d accomplished.

Her cousin was a talented journalist, working part-time for the biggest newspaper in Seattle. Not that Cassie begrudged her that. She’d worked hard and had graduated at the top of her class at the University of Washington. But, while she didn’t make ridiculous amounts of money at her job, she had an on-the-side baking blog and video channel on a popular streaming service that raked in the views—and the money—to allow her to buy a gorgeous condo, with an incredible view, in one of the Seattle’s high-rises.

It made Cassie, and her postage stamp sized apartment in Los Angeles—the one she shared with two other roommates—feel inadequate. Clearly, not getting into the streaming game when it first became popular was a huge mistake on Cassie’s part. One of many she’d made over her twenty-six years.

But it wasn’t the job, or even the money, that pricked the most. It was Charlie.

Not that Cassie had feelings for Charlie. It was his and Anna’s relationship, and the fact he and Annabeth had gotten together during that summer. The last time Cassie was in Redding.

The summer where Cassie had poured her heart out to Sam and had been brutally rejected.

Annabeth got a wonderful, committed relationship. Cassie had spent the trip back home to LA in the backseat of her dad’s car, trying not to bawl, the million pieces of her shattered heart scattered along the length of Interstate 5.

“Hey, Cassie.” Charlie looked over at her and smiled. He was a lot like Sam, with the same brown skin and dark hair and eyes. They also had the same shaped nose. Charlie was a couple of inches shorter than Sam, though, and he wasn’t quite as broad in the shoulders.

“Hi, Charlie,” she said, returning his smile. He was still the nice and courteous guy she remembered. It also wasn’t his fault that his brother was an ass.

A small part of her knew she wasn’t being fair to Sam. But seeing him again this weekend had brought up a bunch of feelings, including the humiliation she’d felt on that summer night a decade ago. It was unexpected, and she was angry with herself for still feeling such ridiculousness after all that time. And then, in her mind, she’d turned that anger toward Sam, and made him the bad guy. Which he was. Kind of.

It was all so confusing.

“Let’s go grab some seats and a drink in the sightseeing car. I think Linc should already be there. And I passed Sarah and Delilah on the way over here.” Charlie glanced between her and Anna.

Cassie waved them away. “You guys go spend time with your friends. I have some emails to return and I want to take advantage of the wi-fi while I can.”

Anna narrowed her eyes at Cassie. “But you’ll come over when you’re done, right?”

“Of course.” Cassie slipped her hand behind her back and crossed her fingers while she nodded. It was childish and silly, but it was something she and Anna used to do when they were kids and were telling a fib to each other. Some things died hard, it seemed.

Anna pointed her finger at Cassie and gave her a squinty eyed stare. And then she and Charlie turned disappeared down the hallway.

Cassie closed the door and pulled the curtain over it. Part of her felt guilty for lying to Anna, but she just wasn’t in the mood to be sociable. Granted, she was rarely in the mood to be sociable, but it was especially true today. One of the pitfalls of being a serious introvert. She was good in small, close groups, usually one or two other people, but anything bigger and she clammed up something fierce.

Besides, Anna had Sarah and Delilah. They’d been bridesmaids at the wedding yesterday, friends her cousin had met at university. Apparently, they were getting off at San Francisco, which was perfect, because it would give her and Anna some time together this weekend, just the two of them. Well, Charlie would still be on the train, but Cassie could work with that.

She pulled out her laptop and sat on the bench seat with her back against the outer wall and her legs stretched out in front of her. It only took a minute for her laptop to boot up—the bonus of having one with the latest processor. The computer had been a present from her parents for Christmas, and it made everything so much easier.

After she connected to the free wi-fi from the station, she brought up the email account she used for work. She didn’t like to use the account on her phone because it always felt like too much pressure. At least, this way, she could control when she was in work mode.

Normally, she wouldn’t even open it on a Sunday, but after what happened just before she left for the wedding, she was feeling extra anxious about work. Or the current absence of it.

There were three emails in her inbox. Two were just deals to upgrade some of her software, but the third was from Forever Night Books, the publishing house she’d been in contact with about a staff position in their art department.

With trembling fingers, she clicked the email. Her heart was lodged so firmly in her throat, it hurt to swallow, to breathe.

She scanned the words on the screen, unsure she was actually reading them correctly. Because after the last couple of crappy days she’d had, it was impossible the email actually said what she thought it did.

But, no, it was real.

She’d been shortlisted for the in-house lead cover designer position for the publishing house’s new paranormal romance line.

Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap.

She covered her mouth with both her hands and squealed like a schoolgirl with a crush. Finally, something good. It felt like forever since she’d had any good news. Maybe things were finally looking up.

The overhead speaker crackled. “Good afternoon, passengers. Please be advised that there will be a delay in our departure today. We are working to get things settled and will be on our way as soon as possible. Thank you for your patience.”

She sighed and banged her head against the wall. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to knock some sense into herself. That’s what she got for being so cocky. The universe had a way of always knocking her down a peg when she dared to climb so high.

Hopefully, the delay wouldn’t be too long. The last thing she needed was for this trip to drag on forever.

Chapter 3

Cassie splashed some water on her cheeks and glanced at herself in the mirror. She looked fine, nice and casual, with her hair piled up on her head in a somewhat messy bun, and her pale grey cashmere sweater.

She glanced around. Her sleeping room was small, about six by eight feet, but the seat turned into a bed she could stretch out on which should make for a more comfortable trip. There was also a captain’s chair near the window, where she’d sat and spent the afternoon and part of the evening, pretending to actually do some work.

She’d been unsure that the price tag of the bedroom in the sleeper car had been worth it, but had splurged anyway. Now, she was glad she’d spent the extra money, even if it meant that next month, she’d probably be surviving on cheap ramen noodles and canned tuna. The teeny tiny bathroom was barely big enough to hold the toilet, but there was a handheld showerhead, which would be a blessing come tomorrow morning. And having her own space where she could be alone was invaluable.

After the over two-hour departure delay—good to see the universe was staying on brand—and the email from the publishing house, she’d attempted to do some work on both her overall portfolio, as well as the pieces she was creating for the manuscript the publisher had provided. The mock-ups were the next step in the application process. The story was going to be one of the first published by the imprint, which meant she was one of the first people to read it. So exciting.

She also may, or may not, have been hiding from Sam.

It was ridiculous, and completely childish, but she couldn’t help it. Being near him was incredibly conflicting. A small part of her was still humiliated and angry by what had happened the last time she was in Redding. But the rest of her didn’t care about any of that, and practically sat up and panted when he walked into the room.

But now, after she’d had her dinner delivered to her room, and had eaten a rather tasty but lonely meal by herself, she was feeling antsy. The walk to the sightseeing car would be a good stretch for her legs, and another glass of wine wouldn’t go amiss. It might even help her relax.

She smoothed her hair back off her forehead. Maybe she should dig through her bag and find her makeup case, put on a little armor? She shook her head at such a dumb idea. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and didn’t need any armor.

Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you’ll eventually believe it.

She frowned at her reflection, pushing aside the unhelpful little thought. It was ridiculous and untrue. She wasn’t trying to impress Sam. She didn’t care what he thought.

Of course, that didn’t mean she had to go out of her way to look bad. She grabbed her suitcase and heaved it onto the seat with a grunt. She shuffled through her bag—she was a serial over-packer—until she found her makeup kit.

The train shimmied and she grabbed the edge of the small sink to stay upright. While this was going to be a trip of a lifetime, one she probably wouldn’t have taken if not for Annabeth, she didn’t do so well on moving vehicles. Motion sickness was her constant companion on road trips. She’d never been on a train like this before, but she hoped to be spared the inconvenience this time around. Spending the next couple of days throwing up was not high on her to do list.

And speaking of her cousin, she was surprised Anna hadn’t come storming in here long before now to drag her out. Especially during dinner. Clearly, Anna had been thoroughly distracted, which was good. It gave Cassie some time to breathe.

She smudged on some eyeliner and swept a bit of mascara on her lashes. A quick slick of pink gloss on her lips finished the look. Just enough to highlight, not heavy enough to make it look like she was trying too hard.

A quick straighten of her hair and she was as ready as she’d ever be. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the narrow hallway. It was dark outside, only shadowy shapes visible out the windows. She really was being ridiculous. Sure, Sam was hot as hell, but so what? This wasn’t about Sam and his incredible bone structure, or his eyes so deep a brown she could easily lose herself in them.

And this line of thinking was not helping to calm her racing heart or her tingling skin. Or the throb that had started low in her belly when she thought of him stretched out on the bed behind her.

She turned and strode down the hallway before her thoughts derailed everything. The room she’d been assigned was located upstairs at the front of the train car. She’d contemplated reserving one of the roomettes—smaller versions of the bedroom, with two seats that faced each other and turned into an upper and lower bunk—but decided it would feel too cramped. It also didn’t have the attached bathroom. You had to use the facilities on the same floor with the other travelers. So, that was a big old no.

She hurried through the vestibule that joined the cars. The whole thing kind of freaked her out, although she had no idea why. It was perfectly safe, but something about it made her feel like she wasn’t on solid ground. And she always held her breath when she was in the transitional space. It didn’t make any sense, but she had too many other things to worry about to be too concerned about such a harmless quirk.

In order to get to the sightseeing car, she had to go through another sleeper car and the dining car. Since it was still early enough for some folks to be eating a late dinner, there were several people seated in the dining car. For some reason, she felt like people were watching her as she walked through, making her cheeks prickle.

The sightseeing car was busy, which wasn’t surprising. The scenery from her room had been spectacular. Up here, with the floor to ceiling windows that arched into the roof, the views were breathtaking. Part of her was disappointed she hadn’t got to enjoy it in the afternoon light, especially since this was probably the only time she’d get to experience these particular sights.

That same part of her wanted to blame Sam for sending her fleeing, but that wasn’t fair. He hadn’t done anything—this time—other than be beautiful and distracting.

The car was divided into three sections. This end was the observation area, with a bunch of double seats that faced the windows. Supposedly, they used to swivel, but were converted to stationary for safety reasons. There was always someone who ruined the fun things for everyone. The other end of the car was fitted with eight booths that each sat four. In the center was a small bar and another handful of two seaters.

Raucous laughter greeted her. Charlie, Annabeth, and their friends were seated in the lounge area in the center of the car. Apparently, the party had been raging the whole day.

She walked toward them, once again feeling like an intruder. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea after all. She scanned the space, trying to convince herself she wasn’t looking for Sam.

He wasn’t there. A pang of disappointment bounced through her. Which was silly, because she wasn’t disappointed. Being disappointed that the guy who’d shattered your teenage heart, and humiliated you to boot, wasn’t in attendance was probably the dumbest thing in the history of the universe.

“Cass,” Anna said, although it bordered on only-dogs-can-hear volume. She leaped to her feet and threw herself into Cassie’s arms. Cassie staggered but managed to keep the two of them upright.

Anna’s hug was tight and fierce, and Cassie couldn’t help but hug her back just as tightly. The back of her eyes stung, and she squeezed them closed to stop the tears. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this, how much she’d missed Annabeth.

The anger—at herself and Sam and the universe in general—that washed through her mixed with the shame she felt at partially blaming Anna for the mess she’d made of things all those years ago, and it made her chest ache. She wanted to tell Anna how sorry she was, for everything, but she swallowed back the apology. Now wasn’t the time. But she vowed to have a real heart-to-heart with her cousin soon, and try to repair their relationship.

Anna pulled away and stared at her. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were glassy. But the smile that stretched across her pretty face was so joyful, Cassie found it hard to look at for too long. She didn’t think she’d ever felt that happy, that ecstatic, in her life. While she was thrilled for her cousin, there was still a part of her that was ridiculously jealous that everything seemed to come so easy for Anna.

She needed a moment to get her runaway emotions in check or she was going to start blubbering like an idiot in front of everyone. “I’m going to grab a drink. Do you want anything?” She pointed at the staircase behind them, the one that went down to the ground level. The bar up here wasn’t open for some reason, but according to the website, they sold drinks and food at the snack bar on the lower level.

“Yes, please,” Anna said, pointing at her seat. Cassie had no idea it meant. “Anything white will be fine.”

Wine it was then. Cassie nodded and turned to the stairs. They were u-shaped and so bloody narrow it was a miracle no one had fallen down them and broken an ankle—or their neck. Then again, maybe they had. She wasn’t well versed in on-board train injuries.

She stepped onto the lower level, ready to take a moment and just breathe. Get herself back under some semblance of control.

Except there was a familiar silhouette standing in line at the snack bar.

She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep, hopefully cleansing, breath. She counted to ten. And then added ten more for good measure. She could do this. She was an adult, for crap’s sake.

“Hey,” Sam said, the deep timbre of his voice sliding across her skin in an unexpected way. The kind of way that sent goosebumps chasing themselves down her spine. “Thought we’d lost you to your fancy room.”

She snapped her eyes open. He was staring at her, a devastating smile stretched across his kissable lips. Her heart stumbled in her chest, like it had missed one of the stairs behind her.

“I had some work to do.” Her voice sounded strange, sort of raspy. She cleared her throat, as if a frog caught there was her problem. “Did you get the seat you wanted?”

He shrugged, the muscles rippling in his broad shoulders. He’d removed his jacket somewhere along the way, and now wore a dark grey Henley that was just tight enough to highlight the muscles hidden underneath. His sleeves were pulled up, his muscular forearms on display. She’s never really given much thought to forearms, but was now unsure why she’d overlooked such a sexy body part in the past. The way Sam’s muscles flex when he moved was…

“I got a seat, and that’s all that matters.”

His response kicked her back into focus, and she skated her gaze up his broad, muscular chest and back to his handsome face.

The lighting down here was crappy, leaving things dim and shadowy. Even so, there was something sparkling in the dark depths of his gaze. Appreciation, which was flattering as hell, and something hotter. Something that made that band low in her belly give an insistent tug.

“Did you get some dinner?” Her voice came out all husky again. The darkened space made the moment feel much more intimate than it should.

He shrugged again, and somehow, between one heartbeat and the next, he’d moved. He was closer than before, taking up all the space. She tilted her head back to look at his face. “I wasn’t very hungry.”

The words were innocent enough, but the deep rumble of his voice, coupled with the intimacy of the moment, made them take on a whole different meaning. Or maybe that was just her hormones, translating an innocent conversation into something more illicit.

She licked her suddenly dry lips. His gaze tracked the movement of her tongue, like he couldn’t not watch her every move. The air around them thickened, the tension between them building into something tangible. Something that pressed against her skin in the most distracting way.

“Can I help you?”

The snack bar attendant’s voice shattered the spell. Cassie blinked, trying to realign her bearings.

Sam managed to get back on track faster, and he turned to the attendant with a smile. “Yes, thank you. I’ll have a soda and…”

He turned to Cassie, like he was waiting for her to order.

“No, that’s okay,” she said, her voice still too low and throaty. “I’ve got it.”

“I insist, Cassie.” He leaned down so he was close to her ear. His scent, the smell of pine and outdoors and something deep and musky, wrapped around her. It was intoxicating, and she wanted to lean into him, bury her face against his neck and just breathe him in forever. “Please. It’s the least I can do.”

His words jolted her back to herself, made her remember why she needed to keep her wits about her when it came to Sam. It was far too easy to fall under his spell, just like she had all those years ago. She wasn’t exactly sure what he thought buying her a drink was going to accomplish, but she was taking it, because he owed her one. He was right. This was the very least he could do.

She turned to the attendant. “Two white wines, please.”

The attendant nodded and grabbed two plastic cups from beneath the counter. The tension between her and Sam had shifted into awkward, which was disappointing. At least the sexual kind was fun, the possibility of something exciting coating everything in anticipation.

This was just awkward and uncomfortable.

The attendant poured the two cups of wine and then grabbed a soda and slid it across the counter. Sam pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, and Cassie tried really hard not to think about the way his muscles flexed with the movement. Or his ass, which looked great in jeans. Just like she remembered.

“Anything else?” The attendant glanced back and forth between her and Sam.

Sam glanced at her, but she shook her head. It would serve him right if she ordered two of everything on the ridiculously overpriced menu. But that would be petty, and she was above all of that.

Mostly.

He handed over two twenties, letting the attendant know he didn’t need any change. It was a generous tip, and a part of her melted at the gesture. As someone who’d worked as a waitress through school, she appreciated the generosity. Sometimes, a great tip or two meant the difference between instant noodles for the entire week, or being able to make something with fresh vegetables.

She grabbed the wine and walked back over to the staircase. Letting Sam get past her defenses was dangerous. She needed to not get so caught up in her attraction and the clear pull between them. Keeping her distance needed to remain her priority.

The train gave a quick jerk when she was on the third step. She swayed and then was thrust to the side. She bounced off the wall and gravity took over, sending her backward. Because she was holding a drink in each hand, she didn’t have a free hand to grab the railing. Ooh, this was going to hurt.

Sam slid his arm around her waist from behind, pulling her back against his chest. He had his other hand planted on the edge of the stairwell for balance. The heat that radiated off of him was incredible. Like being wrapped up tight in front of a big old fireplace. She sank into the embrace, letting the feeling of him surrounding her soak into her soul. It felt way better than it had any right to.

“You okay?” His quiet question was a soft caress against her ear.

She nodded. “Yeah.” It came out more like a sigh. Which would never do. She straightened her spine and her shoulders. “You can let go now.”

“Sure.” He slipped his arm from around her, and the loss of his strength, of his heat, made her feel like she was suddenly hollow.

She half turned so her back was pressed against the wall. The stairwell was so narrow, he was all she could see. His broad shoulders almost brushed each wall. Because he was on a lower step, they were eye to eye. This close, she could see the spark of heat in his gaze. It sent goosebumps chasing themselves down her arms. It would be so easy to lean forward, press her lips to his, finally know what it felt like…

He cleared his throat and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He leaned forward, just a tiny movement, but they were so close, she felt it. She leaned in, her body moving automatically.

The train gave another jerk.

Sam frowned and braced his shoulder against the wall. “I thought this was supposed to be a smooth ride.” He shuffled back a bit, making space between them.

Now that he was no longer her sole focus, she could think and breathe again. “Yeah, I think we were lied to. At least it isn’t so noisy upstairs.” She glanced at her watch. “We should be pulling into Eugene any time now.”

As if on cue, the brakes gave a squeal, and the train shuddered and slowed.

He nodded and stared at her without saying anything.

It was suddenly a thousand degrees on in the stairwell. She turned and hurried up the stairs, taking careful steps. The last thing she needed would be to stumble again and have Sam reach out to catch her. If he touched her again, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop from touching him back.

She could feel him behind her, her skin tingling in all the right ways. The weight, the strength, the heat of his arms around her was branded onto her skin.

She craved his touch almost more than her next breath. Not good, not good, not good.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she made a beeline for Anna. She was snuggled up in a double seat with Charlie, her head on his shoulder. It was so sweet it made Cassie’s throat ache.

And that was the only reason her throat ached. It had nothing to do with her being stupidly jealous of Anna and Charlie’s relationship.

She put down her drink, pulled off her crossbody bag, and plopped into the seat next to Anna, holding out the other cup of wine. Shockingly enough, through all of that, she hadn’t spilled a drop. Server skills for the win. “Here you go.”

Anna sat up and stretched her arms over her head. “Thanks.” She took the wine with one hand and covered a yawn with the other.

Cassie glanced around. Most of Anna and Charlie’s friends had disappeared, probably headed back to their seats or rooms. She didn’t know how many of them had booked rooms or roomettes or just seats in business class or coach. Sam, and she assumed Lincoln, were the only ones getting off the train in a few hours.

For some stupid reason, the idea of Sam getting off in a few hours sent a smidge of disappointment spiraling through her.

Without her permission, her gaze drifted to him. He’d picked a seat across the way, next to Linc. Made sense, since other than Charlie and Anna, Linc was probably the only other person he knew. The McKinney ranch was next door to the Triple C, so the McKinneys and the Callahans and the Baptistes had all grown up together.

He had his head bent toward Linc, who was saying something too low for anyone else to hear. Sam lifted his gaze and it collided with hers, knocking the breath right out of her lungs.

She yanked her gaze away, turned to stare out the window. What in the hell was she doing? She was supposed to be angry, or at the very least, indifferent. Not lusting after him like she had as a teenager.

The lights were lowered in the car, which made it easier to see outside, since the reflection wasn’t bouncing back off the windows. There wasn’t much to see outside, just mountains and trees. No doubt the snow covering everything would look spectacular. She hoped she got a chance to see the tail end of their mountain journey in the bright daylight tomorrow.

Anna stood and stretched with a somewhat dirty sounding moan. Cassie looked over at her. Charlie rolled to his feet and wrapped Anna in his arms. She smiled up at him, the radiant kind of smile that lit her up from the inside.

Cassie was happy for her cousin, she really was, but it hurt to look at her right now, mostly because she couldn’t remember ever being that ecstatic. There had been happy times, sure, but she’d never felt that… she didn’t even know what it was, or what to call it.

Anna tossed back the rest of her wine and looked over at Cassie. “We’re pretty beat, so we’re going to head to our room.”

Cassie smiled, although it felt forced. “Goodnight.”

“Oh, it will be.” Anna tossed her a wink, which was totally super cheesy, but turned Cassie’s smile genuine.

Until the implications of what Anna was saying worked their way through her overstimulated brain. “Ugh, Anna.”

She must have grimaced, because Anna laughed and then bent down and pressed a kiss to Cassie’s cheek. “You going to be okay?”

Cassie nodded. “Yeah, I’m going to read for a while, I think.”

“You and your books,” Anna said, and gave Cassie quick squeeze. “Goodnight.”

She watched as Charlie slid his arm around Anna’s waist, and the two of them walked to the end of the car and out the door.

The train whistle sounded in the distance, and then the train lurched forward, once again on its way.

Cassie grabbed her e-reader out of her bag. On her last birthday, she splurged on the model with the built-in back light, which had been life changing. It meant she could read just about anywhere, no matter the lighting situation. Like now, with the whole, intimate, mood lighting thing they had going on.

And, yeah, she could have gone back to her room, where she could adjust the lighting to her liking, but honestly, she was sick of looking at the walls in there. Which was entirely her fault for being so ridiculous this afternoon.

Just thinking about the reason she’d been hiding made her want to lift her gaze to Sam, see what he was doing, but she refused. She was done being ridiculous. Besides, reading this book was super important. It was an advanced copy of a book from the publisher’s new romance line, so she was trying to get a feel for the types of books they bought. It helped that she was a lifelong romance novel fan. Made it less of a hardship.

She shifted in the seat, bending her knees and tucking them underneath her. The e-reader flashed to life. She brought up the latest book and started to read. The story was good, about a paranormal private investigation office out of New York. Psychics and vampires and shifters and warlocks all rolled into one. Ideas and images for covers scrolled through her brain, the wheels spinning as she got lost in the story.

Chapter 4

Cassie had no idea how long she’d been sitting in the sightseeing car reading when Sam sat down in the seat next to her. He took up a lot of room, especially when he stretched his legs out in front of him. Like he did now. He faced straight ahead, staring out the window.

“What are you doing?” She couldn’t keep the surprise or confusion out of her voice.

“Sitting down.” His nonchalant answer was as infuriating as it was intriguing.

She waited a beat for him to expand on his answer, but he didn’t. Just popped the top on his can of soda and took a long sip. She tried not to notice the way his throat worked as he swallowed. Another part of the male anatomy she hadn’t given a whole lot of thought to, but was sexy as hell. The urge to nibble on the tender skin of his throat, to run her tongue along his salty skin, was so overwhelming, she was surprised she didn’t tackle him right then and there.

“There are plenty of other seats.” The accusatory note in her voice couldn’t be missed. She glanced around. The car was as empty as she’d seen it, only a few people scattered around.

What the hell was wrong with her? Yeah, it had been a while since she’d been in a relationship, even a casual one, and sure, she hadn’t had sex in even longer, but she’d never turned into such a horn dog before today. Of course, it didn’t help that she’d just finished reading a super hot love scene.

Because she was flustered, and didn’t know what else to do, she took a sip of her wine. It was terrible, way too dry for her tastes. She much preferred something with a touch more sweetness. She swallowed and tried to keep the grimace off her face, but knew she hadn’t managed it because Sam chuckled.

“Here.” He held out his can of soda.

She really shouldn’t, but the bitterness clinging to the back of her tongue overpowered her common sense, and she grabbed the can and took a quick sip. The sweet, bubbly liquid fizzed on her tongue and then slid down smooth. She refused to think about the fact that her mouth was on the same spot as his had just been.

“Thank you,” she said, and handed the can back to him. He was staring at her, his dark gaze unreadable.

She looked away, suddenly feeling like she was being dissected. She didn’t like it. No good would come from peeling back her layers. Besides, he was the last person she wanted to be privy to her soft, vulnerable insides.

Part of her wanted to slink back to her room and hide for the rest of the trip. She had a bunch of work to do, so it wasn’t like she’d be bored or anything.

“I owe you an apology.”

Cassie’s gaze snapped back to his. He was still looking at her, but this time, his gaze was troubled, and maybe a little sad.

“You don’t owe me anything, Sam.” She wasn’t sure she was being completely honest with him, or herself, but she wasn’t in the mood to fight with him, either.

One corner of his mouth dipped down. “Cassie—”

“No.” She held up her hand. “I really don’t want to do this tonight. I just want to relax and have a good time, okay?”

He stared at her for a second and then gave a single, terse nod. She could tell he wasn’t happy by the way his jaw was clenched. But he didn’t argue with her, or insist they hash out their history, so she was taking it as a win.

He took another sip of his soda and looked back out the window. Once again, her gaze was drawn to the strong column of his throat. She should look away. It was foolish to let him see her fascination.

Not that it was any sort of secret. She’d always been fascinated by him, from the very first moment she saw him. Anna had dragged her over to the Triple C ranch on the first day Cassie had arrived, because that’s where Charlie was working for the summer. It had been hot, and she’d been anxious about hanging out with strangers.

When they got there, Sam and Charlie were on the roof of the workshop, repairing shingles or something. Sam was shirtless, his brown skin glowing with a sheen of sweat. His muscles bunched and flexed with every swing of the hammer. It was the first time in her life a member of the opposite sex had truly captivated her.

Before that moment, she would have conceded that she found boys cute, and had thought she was attracted to them, but what she’d felt before was nothing like the soul deep draw she felt to Sam that day.

Anna had shouted at the two of them, something cheeky and teasing, while Cassie stood there, trying to calm her racing heart and her rolling stomach. Charlie had smiled at them and then had climbed down. Sam followed behind his brother, slipping his shirt on when he got to the ground.

Charlie and Anna had said hello with a far too steamy kiss, making things awkward. Once Charlie came up for air—after a jab to the kidney from his brother—he’d introduced Cassie to Sam. She’d been tongue tied and nervous, but managed to not embarrass herself for the most part.

Sam had clearly caught on to her self-consciousness, and had gone out of his way to be friendly and sweet, easing her anxiousness. Cassie had pretty much fallen head over heels for him right on the spot. The whole moment had been exhilarating and fascinating and breathtaking, all rolled into one. Nothing like she’d ever felt before.

And those feelings had only intensified the more time she’d spent around Sam over the summer. Because of Anna and Charlie’s relationship, they’d ended up in each other’s orbit a lot. And the more she learned about him, the deeper she fell.

She’d watched him from afar, soaking in everything about him. How he was quiet and didn’t like to be the center of attention, but did nice things for people when he didn’t think anyone was looking. The gentle way he treated the animals on the ranch, and the way he fiercely loved his family. Everything about him made her heart sing.

Sort of like the way her heart was singing now, here in the quiet dark. The only sound was the clack of the keyboard of someone working on their laptop, the soft snore of someone who had fallen asleep, and the sound of the train on the rails as they barreled through the mountains.

There was a peacefulness to it that she wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced before. Well, at least not since that summer she’d spent on the ranch in Redding.

Everything there had been so different from the city. Things moved at a slower pace. Not quite pokey, but definitely different from Los Angeles. There had been two things she’d fallen in love with—aside from Sam. The first had been the quiet. Not quite silence, but close. No honking horns or blaring sirens. No rushing traffic or rushing people.

Just the sound of nature, mostly. Of course, there were cars and trucks, but the sound wasn’t excessive, drowning out everything until it was all you heard. And there were places where the only sounds were the ones you brought with you. The whisper of your footsteps, the sound of your breath, the hushed voices, because talking too loud would break the spell.

The other thing that she’d loved was the sky. Once the sun went down, the sky exploded with stars. So many stars.

Having grown up in the city, she’d never realized just how many of them there were. The sky never fully darkened in Los Angeles. The light from the houses and apartments and office buildings drowned everything out. But out on the ranch, there had been no light. Just darkness and the spray of stars too numerous to count.

Much like the view now. Out in the wilderness where no one had touched the pristine beauty.

“Do you like your life on the ranch?” She hadn’t been planning on asking such a personal question, hadn’t planned on saying anything. But there it was, hanging between them like some sort of fragile peace offering.

He slumped down in the seat, leaning his head against the headrest, so he could look out the part of the window that curved against the ceiling, staring at the stars above them. “I do,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “And not just because it’s the only thing I’ve ever known. I like working with the land and with nature. Big open spaces and all of that.”

She shifted, so she was sitting sideways in the seat, and laid her cheek against the back. “This must be torture for you, huh? Being trapped in here like this?”

He shrugged, but kept his gaze on the stars above them. “It’s fine. It helps that it’s only for a few more hours. Any longer and I think I’d want to scrape my own skin off.” He turned his head to look at her finally, one corner of his mouth tilted up.

She felt one side of her own mouth tilt up in response, even though the idea of him leaving hurt somewhere deep down. Somewhere she refused to acknowledge.

“Annabeth said you’re a graphic designer. That sound interesting.”

It was her turn to shrug. “I like it. It’s challenging and rewarding. I like taking someone’s basic ideas and turning them into images and concepts that capture exactly what they’re looking for, even if they don’t know exactly what they want.”

“I bet you’re great at it.”

The sincerity in his voice made her throat ache. She swallowed down the unexpected emotion. “Yeah, well, my boss didn’t seem to think so.”

His eyebrows arrowed down, forming a deep groove between them. “That was past tense. Did something happen?”

She sighed. The plan had never been to get into any of this crap this weekend. “Yeah, just before I left for the wedding, I was let go from my current position. Apparently, there were budget cuts, and since I was the last one hired, well…”

“Aw, shit, Cassie. I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

She shrugged again. “I think it had more to do with the fact I refused to go out with my boss, no matter how many times he asked.”

He sat up with a growl and turned to her. “What?”

The word was loud in the quiet train car, and a few people turned to stare at them. She reached over and grabbed his arm, giving a squeeze. “It’s fine, Sam,” she said, keeping her voice low. “The last time I told him to go fuck himself, and then—”

“The prick fired you.” This time he kept his voice low, although the fury behind the words bounced through the air around them. He settled back against the seat, his gaze locked on the sky. His jaw was clenched tight, along with every long, lean muscle in his body.

Her fingers burned with the urge to soothe him, to run across all those muscles, knead and massage until he was putty.

She pulled her hand away, mostly to stop from giving into the urge. “It’s fine,” she said, and then sighed. He gave her a wicked-looking side eye that said he didn’t believe her in the slightest.

She snorted, which was not the most ladylike response, but whatever. “No, really, it’s fine.” She wrapped her arms around herself, mostly to keep from touching him again. “I wasn’t happy there, anyway. The job was mostly for logo and website design, which isn’t my favorite.”

He relaxed, his muscles unclenching. “So, then, what is your favorite?” He glanced at her again, and it was her turn to look away. With him looking at her like that, all open and interested, she wouldn’t be able to get out a coherent sentence.

“Book covers.”

“Book covers?”

She felt her lips turn up at the corners. The darkness outside was calming, soothing. “Yeah, book covers. I love helping to create the author’s vision. Bringing the characters or story to life, at least in some part.”

“Have you ever thought of writing one? A book, I mean?”

She glanced at him. He was staring at her, his head still resting on the top of the seat. Back to being relaxed, which made some of her tension evaporate. He was giving her one of those full-on grins, with dimple and everything.

Why, oh why, did he have to be so fricking good looking?

She shook her head. “Ah, no. Words are not my passion, just the images and colors and fonts.”

“Well, that’s still very cool.”

She shrugged again. Eventually, she was going to need to come up with some other way to convey her feelings. She was currently too wrung out to worry about it right now, however. “Thanks.” She chewed on her lower lip, unsure if she wanted to tell him about being on the short list for the publishing house. She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, too afraid to say anything and jinx the opportunity.

But she was practically bursting with the news. And, honestly, she wasn’t going to see Sam again after he got off the train. Telling him would let her share the excitement, without the worry he’d be disappointed in her if she didn’t get it.

It was a win-win situation.

And if her logic was flawed—her logic was totally flawed—then, oh well.

“This morning, after we got on the train, I got an email from a big publishing house in New York. I’ve been shortlisted for a position in their art department. I have to send them some mock ups based on some of their upcoming titles. If I get the job, I’d be creating book covers and images for their new romance novel line.” The words rushed out of her, quiet and breathless.

She braced herself for him to say something snarky, probably about the romance novel part. A dig about bodice rippers or mommy porn, and then laugh at his funny joke. She held her breath, suddenly regretting opening her mouth.

He gave her another of those gorgeous smiles, this one even bigger than the last. His dimple was so deep, she was pretty sure she could get lost in it.

“That’s incredible, Cassie. Congratulations. They’d be fools to not pick you.” His deep voice rang with so much sincerity, so much confidence, her heart swelled.

Not knowing what else to do, she nudged his shoulder with her fist. It wasn’t quite a punch, more of a push. “How would you know? You haven’t seen any of my work.”

“I don’t need to see it. I can see your passion in the way you talk about bringing the author’s vision to life. How seriously you take that responsibility. That’s all I need to know in order to know you’re amazing at what you do.” He turned back to watch the stars above them.

She stared at him, her chest tight, her head spinning. No one, outside of her family, had ever said anything so nice to her before. And after the experience at her last job, where she couldn’t seem to do anything right, it hit her right in the softest, most vulnerable parts.

Her heart got all slushy, like a snowball in the sun.

He didn’t seem the least bit phased by her staring at him. The picture of nonchalance, he sat there with his head tilted back, his fingers interlaced over his stomach, his legs stretched out as much as possible in the small space.

Her thoughts and emotions were all over the place. She should still be humiliated, angry with herself and with him. But, here, now, in the quiet and semi-darkness of the train car, she couldn’t quite hold on to the negative stuff. She was tired. Tired of hiding, tired of fighting, tired of pretending she wasn’t still fascinated by him.

She pulled herself up into a sitting position—somehow, she’d slipped down in the seat until she was slouched so badly it would have gotten her a serious frown and a swat on the butt from her mom. The muscles in her shoulders and back were stiff and cramped. She lifted her hands over her head, clasping her fingers together, and stretched, the pull of her muscles making her want to moan. Only the fact that she was in public, even though it was only a few strangers, held her back.

The seats were narrow, and her knee bumped against his leg. Her skin tingled at the contact, sending a shiver through her, one she barely held back. She didn’t know what she was doing, only that she was done denying herself, even if it was only for today. He was getting off the train in a handful of hours, and she’d probably never see him again.

This was her one chance. Was she brave enough to take it?

It was a massive leap, one she’d taken once before, and had ended up face first on the floor, everything inside her shattered into millions of tiny pieces.

She didn’t know if she was brave enough to step off that same ledge with Sam again.

But she was tired of hiding herself away, so afraid of getting hurt she refused to put herself out there. She’d spent the last ten years pretending Sam hadn’t crushed her, that he hadn’t really broken her heart. Convinced herself that her infatuation with him had been nothing more than a schoolgirl crush, that she’d been young and dumb, but he hadn’t hurt her, not really.

It was a lie.

Yes, she’d been young and inexperienced, but her heart, her soul, had known there was a connection between them, one that ran beyond the superficial strings of puppy love.

She’d spent that summer silently begging Sam to see her as more than a kid, to realize how she felt and admit there was something between them. He’d never been anything more than friendly, treating her like he treated Anna. At the time, it had made her angry, but looking back, she could completely understand why.

He was eight years older than her, meaning he’d been a man that summer, and she’d been an impressionable teen. But as the summer progressed, she’d gotten bolder. Pushed and pushed and pushed the boundaries, trying to get him to see her, to open up, admit he felt something for her. In the end, in a desperate attempt to get his attention, she’d snuck into his room and waited for him in his bed. Completely naked.

As an adult, logically, she understood the reason he’d turned her down, insisted she get dressed, and then got her back to Annabeth’s parent’s place. Intellectually, it made sense. Didn’t mean it hadn’t bruised her so badly it had taken a few years for her to recover.

Or, if she was being honest with herself, maybe it was a little longer than that.

What to do? What to do? What to do?

He tapped the pads of his thumbs against one another, his fingers still locked together over his stomach. He had great hands. Strong, with long fingers. They’d be calloused, a little rough, since he’d spent his life working with his hands. They’d feel incredible gliding across her skin, touching and teasing all the right places.

Dangerous thoughts. Ones that tightened the band of heat in her belly until the burn travelled through her, making her ache. She knew she should get up, walk away, go back to her room.

She didn’t.

Instead, she shifted in the chair so she was more on her side and facing him fully. The new position made it so her knee touched his thigh, her head almost on his shoulder. All it would take would be a few inches and she’d be pressed up against him.

He kept his gaze on the ceiling.

His profile was striking, all sharp angles and clean lines. A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead, and her fingers itched to brush it back. She slipped her hand under her hip to stop from giving into the need to touch him.

There was a hint of dark stubble on his jaw. It would be prickly against her fingers. Against her lips. She wanted to lean forward and feel it against her mouth. Taste his skin.

“I’m not sure I want to know what you’re thinking.” His voice was quiet in the almost silence, but there was no censure in his tone.

“Really?” She kept her voice just as low, although there was an underlying note of skepticism in the word. She tucked her hand under her chin so her cheek rested in her palm. “I didn’t think you’d be afraid of someone as innocent as little old me.”

He made a noise that might have been a chuckle, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. He finally turned to look at her, his face inches from hers. “The last thing you are is innocent.”

She should be insulted, or at least angry. But she was neither. Desire ignited in her blood, streaking through her veins.

He wasn’t as unaffected, no matter what he wanted her to think. His dark eyes blazed with heat, the want in them barely leashed.

She took a quick breath, her heart fluttering against her ribs like a bird trying to escape its cage. Without even realizing it, she leaned forward, inching closer and closer to him.

He kept his gaze on hers, watching her move into his space. He didn’t move away, or tell her to stop, so she didn’t.

The first brush of her lips against his sent a streak of lightning arrowing down her spine. Her skin tingled, the need to have his hands on her overwhelming.

His lips were soft against hers, softer than she imagined they’d be. But somehow, they were still perfect. The kiss was sublime, even more amazing than she imagined.

Until it wasn’t.

Because it wasn’t enough. She’d imagined this moment so many times, and now that it was here, now that it was happening, she wanted more. She wanted everything.

She swept her tongue against his lips, coaxing him to open for her, to let her in.

With a groan, the deep kind that settled right between her thighs, he opened his mouth. She swept her tongue inside his mouth, searching and greedy. His taste exploded on her tongue, all sweet soda and something dark, like perfectly aged whiskey mixed with chocolate. Delicious and addictive.

He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, taking over. Taking every thing she had to give. He slid his tongue against hers, pushing into her mouth with a hunger she’d never experienced before. It was heady and hot, and made every cell in her body sit up and sing.

His hand landed on her hip, heavy with promise, his touch burning through her jeans and right into her skin. She brushed her fingers against his jaw. The stubble was scratchy against her skin, and it sent a shot of heat straight to her core. She moaned, all needy and lust filled. He swallowed the sound and slid his hand over her hip to cup her ass, pull her closer.

The seats and their position made it awkward, and she pulled away from the kiss, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Sam rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. Not that hers was any better.

They sat like that for a moment, Cassie’s heart beating like it was trying to crash through her ribcage. She was achy and hot, and so ready to take this to the next level.

Sure, there was a part of her that still had reservations about throwing herself at Sam again. It had ended in disaster the last time, although she understood why it had to.

But was she really going to pass up an opportunity to finally do this? To finally know what it felt like to touch him, and have him touch her?

No, no, she was not.

And it wasn’t like this had to be a big deal. They could keep it casual. What was the harm in having a little fun, as long as Sam was willing? She could protect herself this time, because now she knew what to expect, how to avoid getting her heart crushed.

“Do you want to go back to my room?” She kept her voice low, so that no one could overhear them. She might be willing and eager, but that didn’t mean she wanted to broadcast her intentions to everyone in the lounge.

Without a word, Sam stood and reached for her hand. His strong fingers wrapped around hers and he pulled her to her feet. Scooping up her bag in his free hand, he then led her toward the exit of the lounge car.

His thumb brushed a distracting pattern across the back of her hand. Goosebumps chased themselves up her arm. Excitement made her feel jittery and light, and she wasn’t sure her feet were touching the floor.

He led her through the scary vestibule thing—which was less scary when he was with her—and then through the now empty dining car. She told him which car her room was in, that they had to go through the next car and then they were there.

The tension between them was palpable, swirling around them as thick and tangible as the fog sure to be in the Bay area. She was nervous for some reason, which was ridiculous because she wasn’t a shy virgin. She’d done this before, plenty of times, with the boyfriend she’d had after she’d gotten back to LA that summer, the friend with benefits she’d hooked up with in college, and her last boyfriend, who’d ended things more than a year ago, because he said she was too focused on her work and not enough on him.

She just hadn’t done this with Sam.

That was the difference. Because this was Sam. And she’d fantasized and dreamed about this moment for so long. It was wrong to put so much pressure on it, and on him or herself. While mostly fun, sex had a tendency to get awkward really fast. Maybe she should tamp down her expectations.

They stopped outside her door. The lighting in the hallway was terrible, bright but at the same time not, and she suddenly felt self-conscious.

She’d put on some curves since the one and only time he’d seen her naked. That’s what happened when you stopped being a cheerleader and started working in front of a computer monitor for twelve hours a day. Some parts were wider, a little curvier than when she was in high school. Normally, she didn’t give it much thought. She was happy with who she was and what she looked like. It usually didn’t bother her. Like at all.

But this was different. She had no idea if Sam even remembered what she’d looked like that night. He’d turned his back pretty damn fast once he’d realized she was naked. Much to her humiliation.

She was probably worrying way too much about this. He’d probably only gotten a glimpse—if that—more than a decade ago. Most likely, he’d forgotten the details of that long ago night. Just because every horrible, humiliating millisecond was branded on her brain didn’t mean it was even a blip on his radar.

The train jerked, and her thoughts scattered. She reached out to steady herself, her palms planting themselves on his torso. The firm muscles under her fingers twitched, and the urge to explore the wide expanse of his chest made her tingle.

She looked up at him. The hunger in his gaze almost undid her. She was pretty sure no one in history had ever looked at her with such unabashed longing. Her skin felt tight, like it was suddenly slightly too small for her body.

That band of heat low in her belly throbbed, making her achy and wet. She was seconds away from ravaging him here in the hallway, other passengers be damned. Although dragging him into her room and having her way with him in a place where they wouldn’t get arrested was probably a better idea.

Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers in the softest kiss. She wanted more, so she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, hard.

He groaned and slid his arms around her, yanking her flush against him. Her soft curves pressed against all his heat and hardness was heavenly. She was seconds away from climbing him like one of the old California redwoods.

She swiped her tongue against his lips, urging him to open for her. With another groan, he did. She licked into his mouth.

The kiss was hot and dirty. All tongues and lips and teeth. She slipped her fingers through his hair, tugging gently. He made a growling noise and tightened his arms, pulling her flush against his body, until she couldn’t feel anything but him. The heat of his body against her front. The softness of his hair against her fingers. The slide of his tongue against her lips. The press of his erection against her belly.

She melted against him, soaking in everything about him until she was sure she was going to burst into flames. Spontaneous combustion caused by severe craving. Want. Need. Hunger. She couldn’t get enough of the kiss, of him, of everything.

With another rumble from deep in his chest, he tore himself away. He took a step back, the breath heaving in and out of his lungs. Not that she was much better. She felt drunk, unsteady on her feet, and she must have swayed or something, because he reached out and grabbed her.

His hands were hot on her waist, and she couldn’t wait to not have the fabric between their skin. But first, she needed to get her wits back.

She turned and placed her hand on the door handle, trying desperately to stop the tremble in her fingers. Sam placed his hand over hers, stopping her from opening the door. She glanced at him over her shoulder, about to question him, but the sliver of regret in his gaze stopped the words from escaping.

He brushed his lips against hers again, another barely there kiss.

“Goodnight, Cassie.” His voice was low and rough, ragged at the edges.

And then he turned and walked away.

Chapter 5

Sam was clearly the biggest fucking idiot in the universe. Cassie had been in his arms, ready and willing to let that hot as fuck kiss lead to other, dirtier things, and like a moron, he’d walked away.

Again.

Not that this situation was the least bit comparable to what happened the last time. Then, she’d been a confused kid with a crush, and had taken things a step too far. Now, she was a grown woman. A gorgeous, smart, and sexy woman.

And she was the one who’d suggested they head back to her room.

But she’d been caught up in the intimacy of the moment, the dimmed lights and hushed conversation. That had to be the only reason she’d even considered kissing him, asking him back to her room. Nothing else made sense. Because there was no reason that someone so beautiful and accomplished would choose him. He had nothing really to offer. And it would absolutely gut him to see that regret in her eyes the moment she realized it had all been a mistake.

He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to get comfortable in his stupid train seat. He probably should have splurged for business class. From what he understood, the seats in there were wider and had more leg room. Would have made the trip way more comfortable.

Wouldn’t have done anything about your hard on, however.

He shoved that unhelpful thought aside and closed his eyes. Not that it helped. Even though it was late, people were still shuffling around and making all kinds of noise. And, although the lights were lowered, it was still way too damn bright.

Twisting to the side so he faced the window, he blew out a breath. In this position, he wasn’t quite close enough to lean his head on the glass comfortably, so it was awkward. If he stayed like this for too long, he’d have a crick in his neck that would need professional help.

He sighed and twisted to the other side. Laying his head on the back of the seat like this was slightly better, but it was definitely not comfortable. At least he had the two-seater to himself. It would be super awkward to have some stranger breathing on him.

You could be stretched out in Cassie’s bed, letting her breathe all over you.

This time, he ignored the stupid little voice in his head. Mostly because it was unhelpful, but also because it was right.

He could be in Cassie’s bed with her, showing her just how much he wanted her. Pleasuring her right out of her senses, instead of folded up like a pretzel in the most uncomfortable seat ever made.

And thinking shit like this was doing nothing to ease the pressure behind his fly.

He settled back into the seat properly and tilted his head back onto the headrest. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed, he’d eventually nod off. It wasn’t like he had a lot of time left. A few hours and he’d be home.

Something that felt an awful lot like disappointment skipped through him. Which was stupid, because what did he have to be disappointed about? He hadn’t even wanted to come on this stupid train trip. He should be counting down the minutes until he could get off this stupid tin can and get back to his regular life.

His boring, predictable life.

He heaved out a sigh and tried to block out that disturbing thought. Since when did he consider his life boring?

Since the moment Cassie had told him about what it meant to her to create her book covers, passion blazing in her eyes. His fingers still tingled, the feel of her imprinted on his skin. He could still taste her on his tongue, so sweet and delicious.

Fuck, he was an idiot.

The train gave a hard jerk, and the wheels squealed. Sam was flung forward by the force. His eyes popped open and he grabbed the armrests. It felt like the train was slowing down.

He glanced at his phone. They were nowhere near the next stop. He pushed open the curtain and glanced outside.

Nothing but snow, wilderness, and dark.

The crackle of the intercom system made him wince.

“Good evening, passengers.” The voice was even, reassuring. It did nothing to calm Sam’s churning gut. “We’ve stopped the train due to an obstruction on the tracks. The situation is being assessed and we will keep you updated when we know more. Hopefully, we’ll get moving again soon.”

Sam glanced out the window again. They were still in Oregon, high in the mountains. He’d bet a year’s salary there was nothing out there but trees. They were a long way away from civilization.

He glanced at his phone again. It was late, but not ridiculously late. He should probably go check on Charlie and Annabeth. Make sure they were doing okay.

Yeah, and this little plan of yours has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Cassie’s room is near theirs.

He pushed to his feet, ignoring the stupid, annoying voice in his head. One of the train attendants was walking down the aisle, answering questions and assuring passengers there was no danger and he was sure they’d be on their way soon. Most of it quoted directly from the employee handbook, Sam was sure.

Sam slipped past and then into the vestibule. It was chilly in there, the icy air penetrating all the little cracks in the space between cars. He didn’t know how much power a train banked while it was running, but if they were stuck unmoving for too long, it would eventually run out. And it would be pretty fucking cold then, now wouldn’t it?

Worry sat like a lead horseshoe in his gut. He knew he was getting way ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help it. He was a worst-case scenario type of guy. It had helped keep him alive all these years.

He hurried through the cars. People were up and milling about, talking and whispering and speculating about what was going on. If he had to guess, the obstruction on the tracks was most likely a downed tree. It looked like it had snowed pretty heavily over the last day or two.

It seemed to take forever to get there, but he finally stepped into the sleeper car where Charlie, Annabeth, and Cassie were staying. There were a few people hanging out in the roomettes and narrow hallway at this end of the car. Charlie’s friend, Brendan, was there, and he gave Sam a half nod. Sam nodded back and made his way over to the bedroom section.

There was a cluster of people hanging out in the tiny space across from the coffee station and stairs in the center of the car. They were squished in there, all up in each other’s space. Annabeth and her friend, Delilah, were talking excitedly. Charlie stood behind his wife, his arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. Linc stood next to the stairs, chatting up another of Annabeth’s friends. Sarah, if Sam remembered correctly.

Sam’s gaze drifted to Cassie. It was unintentional, but he couldn’t have stopped it, even if he’d wanted to. She stood off to the side, and down the narrow hallway a bit, her arms wrapped around herself. She’d changed into a pair of striped flannel pants and a long sleeve t-shirt. Her hair was down, the dark waves cascading down her back and over her shoulders.

His fingers twitched, ready and eager to sift through the silky strands. He clenched his hands into fists to stop from reaching for her.

She turned her gaze toward him, even though he hadn’t moved closer or said anything. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she could feel him, the way he could feel her whenever she was near. His skin buzzed, anticipation, excitement, and longing twisting through him.

Her grey eyes turned frosty around the edges as she stared. Not that he could blame her for being angry. He’d hurt her—again. But, like the last time, his intentions had been honorable. Clearly, he sucked at the execution.

He stepped closer to the group, trying not to stare at Cassie. His eyes wanted to stay stuck on her, soak in everything about her. But that would be stupid, because he was positive she hated his guts now.

Which was too bad. It had seemed like they’d actually come to an understanding. At least they’d been able to be in the same room with one another without it escalating to a shouting match. Not that he would have blamed Cassie if she’d shouted at him. He’d hurt her, even though he’d had her best interests at heart when he’d done so. Both ten years ago, and now.

“Everyone okay?” As soon as the words left his lips, he wanted to snatch them back. Talk about an old man move. Even though he was only four years older than Charlie, sometimes it felt more like four decades. He was what his mom used to refer to as an old soul. It went along perfectly with his worry-wart tendencies. Made him feel like a father figure in a lot of situations, especially those that involved his littlest brother.

“What do you think happened?” Annabeth turned to him, her eyes wide, the excitement dancing in them a testament to her adventurous streak. She’d talked Charlie into doing a lot of fun and risky things throughout their life together. And had the photographic evidence to prove it. From swimming with sharks in Fiji, to skydiving over Switzerland, if someone thought of it, his brother and sister-in-law had probably done it.

It was the very opposite of Sam and his old soul and home body habits. He preferred to keep his feet firmly planted in the dirt. Unless horseback riding was involved. And maybe the occasional bull ride. Although he hadn’t done that in a bunch of years. In fact, there were plenty of things he hadn’t done in a long time.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Linc said, giving Sarah a smile, even though she hadn’t been the one to ask. The McKinney place—the Stone Creek Ranch—was next to the Callahans, so not only had Sam known Linc and his family for most of his life, he still saw a lot of the cowboy.

Charlie tightened his grip on Annabeth. “Probably something on the tracks. They’ll get it cleared and we’ll be on our way in no time.”

Annabeth yawned and then blinked hard a couple of times. She sank back against Charlie. He whispered something in her ear, and she nodded.

“Well, everyone, it’s been a slice, but we’re going to go catch some shuteye. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about and we’ll be moving in no time. See you all in the morning.” Charlie let go of Annabeth, took her hand and then the two of them disappeared down the hallway.

Linc and Sarah were having a quiet, serious conversation. Sarah had her back pressed against the wall of the train, Linc leaning in toward her.

Sam figured there’d be a game of musical beds being played tonight. Annabeth’s other friend, Delilah, looked over at him and one corner of her mouth turned up. She might as well have folded the invitation into a paper airplane and tossed it at him.

She was pretty, her black hair cut in a shoulder-length bob. Her dark eyes held the hint of a promise, one that said he’d have a good time if he wanted one.

Any other time, he might have actually taken her up on her offer. Something casual to take the edge off. A little fun to kill the time during the temporary change of plans.

He turned his head, his gaze clashing with Cassie’s. The look she tossed him would have sliced a lesser man to ribbons.

As it was, the slashes still burned.

Sarah laughed, the sound snapping the hold between him and Cassie. Sam glanced over. Linc said something too low for anyone but Sarah to hear. She nodded and then she and Linc disappeared down the stairs, most likely to one of the lower roomettes. The awkwardness in the car multiplied by a factor of a million, making the space stuffy and stifling.

“Okay,” he said, unable to take it anymore. “I just wanted to check and make sure everyone was good. I’m gonna go.” He pointed over his shoulder.

Delilah flipped him another look—this one was full of you-don’t-know-what-you’re-missing sass—and then pushed past him and headed down the hall toward Brendan.

Leaving him and Cassie alone in the hallway.

Her face was blank, no hint of what she was thinking or feeling. That was never a good sign. Not that he deserved anything from her, no matter how much he craved her understanding.

“Goodnight, Cassie.” The words slipped out automatically, and he flinched at the same time she did. An echo from their exchange earlier, coming back to haunt them, and maybe rub salt in an already raw wound.

Why couldn’t he just shut the hell up?

He opened his mouth the say something, maybe apologize, but then snapped it shut. Nothing he said would fix this. Best he just cut his losses before he dug himself a hole that not even search and rescue could save him from.

Just go. Get the hell out of here before you make it worse.

He turned back toward the hallway. Her gaze bored into his back, making his skin hot and tight. It wasn’t a normal reaction to have when someone was throwing daggers, but he couldn’t deny the pleasure he got from the burn.

He was a sick bastard.

But any attention from Cassie was worth it.

He resigned himself to an uncomfortable few hours in his coach seat. Maybe they’d let him stretch out on the floor somewhere, or he could head back to the sightseeing car and see if he could fit in one of the booths.

“Sam, wait.”

Cassie’s voice was quiet, but he heard her loud and clear, almost like she was standing next to him. He stopped and turned back to her.

She was still leaning against the windows in the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest. There was still hurt and anger in her gaze, but there was also something he couldn’t quite unravel. And he was afraid to look too deep, in case he didn’t like what he saw.

Or maybe it was because he was afraid he’d like it far too much.

“Where are you going?” The frosty edge to her voice had melted, leaving behind a vulnerability he didn’t know what to do with.

“Back to my seat.”

“That can’t be very comfortable.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll survive.”

“The attendant said they don’t know how long the delay will be.”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll probably be a few hours, at least.”

He nodded, unsure of what to say.

“I don’t think you’re getting home for a while.”

“No, probably not.”

She took a deep breath and glanced away. He should go, leave whatever this was between them behind, but he couldn’t move.

The seconds ticked by, each one stretching longer and longer, until they felt like eons.

She sighed, the sound heavy and resigned, and looked back at him. “Come and sleep in my room.”

His heart smacked against his ribs like a horse bucking against a stall. No way he’d heard her correctly. She couldn’t have said what he thought he’d heard. It wasn’t possible. “What?”

One side of her mouth pinched. “Come and sleep in my room. It’ll be way more comfortable than you crashing in the aisle somewhere, where people are liable to step on you.”

“It’s fine, Cassie. Really.” Why the fuck was he arguing with her? She was offering him an olive branch, one he didn’t deserve, and he was bickering. He’d be a fool not to take it. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced down the hall, in the direction Charlie and Annabeth had disappeared. “Maybe I could crash with them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The edge was back in her voice, and she was probably regretting her offer right about now. She planted her hands on her hips, and he couldn’t help but notice how fantastic her curves were. All soft and lush, begging for his hands. “The rooms are small, and will really only hold two people. There’s no way you’d all fit comfortably.”

He knew she was right, but he opened his mouth to argue anyway, because apparently he was a sucker for punishment.

She flicked up her hand, her palm toward him. He snapped his jaw shut.

“There are two beds in my room, and only me. All I’m saying is that you’re welcome to the other bed if you want. If you don’t, well, then, I guess that’s your choice, too.”

She turned and disappeared down the hall. He heard her bedroom door open and then click shut. Looked like he had a choice to make.

Chapter 6

Cassie had no idea what on earth had possessed her to offer her spare bed to Sam. Clearly, she’d had some sort of moment of complete insanity. It was the only explanation.

Because Sam had humiliated her—again—and she refused to forgive him for it anytime soon.

Except she’d just invited him to spend the night in her room. Why did she have to be so nice? He clearly wanted nothing to do with her, and yet she couldn’t seem to let go of whatever it was she felt whenever he was around.

She eyed up the bed, and then squeezed by and threw herself in the chair instead. Her stupid hormones were done calling the shots. From now on, she was leading with her head. Only rational, non-ridiculous thoughts and ideas allowed.

Which meant there’d be no thinking about Sam. At all.

Let him suffer, sleeping on the floor. Maybe he’d freeze his ass off while he was at it. Make him really think about what he’d passed up on.

And that was not, not thinking about Sam.

She pushed herself out of the chair. Restlessness made the urge to move well up inside her. She wanted to do a little pacing, or maybe hit something. Yeah, hitting something would be good. She wasn’t normally a violent person, but getting some of her anger and frustration out right now sounded like an excellent plan.

A soft knock on the door sent her heart bouncing into her throat.

“Cassie, it’s Sam.”

He kept his voice low, just loud enough to be heard through the door.

She drew in a deep breath. It would be perfectly alright to ignore him. Shut off the light, climb into bed, and pretend she’d never met Sam Baptiste.

Apparently, her feet had other ideas, because she took the couple of steps to the door without actually realizing she was moving. Time ground to a stop, just as sure as the train had. She had no idea what she was doing, but she pulled open the door.

Sam stood there, hands in his pockets, shoulders rolled forward. He looked a little lost, sort of like he had earlier, standing outside the metro station.

Her heart gave a painful throb, and she wasn’t sure why. There were so many emotions swirling through her right now, she was lucky she hadn’t burst into overwhelmed tears yet. But she refused to show anymore weakness or vulnerability. From here on out, it was nothing other than aloof indifference.

They stood there, staring at each other for what felt like a thousand years. The memory of their kiss, the feel of his lips, the taste of his tongue, flooded through her. She swallowed hard, that stupid band in her stupid belly yanking her off-kilter.

So much for aloof indifference.

Didn’t mean she had to let on how much he still affected her, though.

“Are you coming in or not?” There was more bite to the words than she meant. Overcompensation at it’s best. But there was nothing she could do about it now.

Sam had the decency to flinch, which made her feel slightly better. At least he knew he’d screwed up.

“Thank you for your generous offer, Cassie.” He locked his gaze with hers, and there was both gratitude and apology in his voice. “If it still stands, I’d like to take you up on it.”

Her heart leapt again, this time jackknifing into her throat and then plummeting into her stomach. There was a small, secret, wishful part of her that wanted the words to mean more than just sleeping in her room. That wanted him to mean they were going to follow through with the promise of their previous kisses.

But that would be stupid. And definitely not remaining aloof and distant.

She shoved that ridiculous part away, and moved back and away from the door, squeezing into the space beside the sink, giving him room.

He gave a single nod and stepped into the room.

This had been a mistake.

She’d forgotten how big he was, how much space he took up. He made her little room feel infinitesimal suddenly, like there was no room to move, no room to breathe.

He moved past her and to the far end of the room, not that it was a long way to go. For a second, she thought about running. Slipping into the hallway, maybe banging on Anna and Charlie’s door and asking them to let her sleep in their upper bunk. Sure, Charlie probably wouldn’t be happy about it, but Anna would let her stay.

Instead, she slid the door closed. The latch clicking shut was as loud as a gunshot.

Awkwardness filled the small space, making her feel like she was drowning. She had to take a minute, catch her breath. And maybe her runaway hormones.

“Excuse me,” she said. Her voice came out high, and yet breathy at the same time. She’d never sounded like that before in her life.

But she couldn’t worry about that right now. She needed to get out of here.

Since running out into the hallway wasn’t an option, she chose the next best thing. She turned to the teeny, tiny bathroom and shut herself in.

Once the door closed behind her, she felt like she could actually breathe. Which was dumb, because this was the smallest bathroom ever created. Not that you could actually call it a bathroom, as there was barely enough room for the toilet.

And now that oxygen was flowing to her brain again, she realized she was being a huge idiot. She was a grown woman, for God’s sake. Why was she running away like a schoolgirl forced to do a project with her crush?

She pressed her forehead against the plastic wall and took a deep breath. Her hormones just needed to stay in check, and she’d be fine. She could do this. It was only sharing a room for one night, for fuck’s sake.

She flushed the toilet, because Sam didn’t need to know she’d been freaking out—not that him thinking she was peeing was much better—and then opened the door.

While she’d been freaking out, he’d pulled down the upper bunk. It was a single bed—although bed was a very loose term—that hung directly over the bottom double bed. The whole thing looked rather precarious. Especially considering it was dipping slightly on one side.

While she didn’t doubt the integrity of the setup, there was a small part of her that was afraid the whole thing was going to come crashing down on her while she was sleeping. Sam was a big guy. There were definite doubts that the bunk would actually hold him.

He’d moved to the bottom of the beds, near the door, by the fold down ladder. Next to the sink. Exactly in the spot she needed to be.

She moved over to the sink, trying not to let the heat rolling off of him affect her. But it was hard, because he was so warm, and smelled so good. She just wanted to turn into him, wrap herself around him, let everything else melt away.

Instead, she washed her hands. Kept her head down, but peeked at his reflection in the mirror.

He stood there, looking as out of sorts as she felt. She couldn’t be certain, because the lighting and the angles were messing with her, but she thought there was heat and longing lingering in his gaze. But that couldn’t be right. He’d been the one to reject her. For the second time.

She’d be a fool to let whatever was in his gaze hold any sway, first because she couldn’t actually be sure about what she saw. And second, because how many times did she have to make herself vulnerable with him, and have him stomp all over her, before she smartened up?

It didn’t stop the butterflies from taking up a tango in her belly.

“I found some extra blankets in one of the cupboards.” The deep rumble of his voice sent the butterflies into a frenzy.

She nodded and met his gaze in the mirror.

He was watching her, his expression now blank. She had no idea what to do with that. Why did everything with Sam have to be so damn complicated?

She watched in the mirror as he climbed up to the bunk. It made a loud, unsatisfying creak, and the end dipped down even more. The space between the bunk and the ceiling wasn’t very deep. He basically had to half shimmy, half crawl to get to the head of the bed. Which he did in a hurry, as if he was afraid the bottom of the bunk wasn’t going to hold.

It was utterly ridiculous.

She turned around to watch him, her arms folded over her chest, her head cocked.

Once on the bed, he laid down on his stomach for a second and then turned over. His shoulders were too broad, and he almost brushed the ceiling on the way over.

It seriously had to feel like he was in a coffin.

A shiver snaked down her spine, and she wrapped her arms around her middle. She wasn’t exactly claustrophobic, but that was too much, even for her, and she would have only taken up a fraction of the space he did.

He didn’t protest. Just pulled the single blanket over him. The bed gave another groan, and she could have sworn it sagged another half an inch.

Yeah, that was going to be a problem.

Also, there was no way in the universe he was comfortable. Not only was the bunk way too small for him—he was right at the edge when he was laying flat—but he was also still fully clothed. Jeans, long-sleeved t-shirt and socks. The only thing he’d removed was his boots. He didn’t even have a pillow. Which was probably a good thing, because as it was, there were mere inches between his face and the ceiling. The net thing strung across the front of the bunk would keep him from falling on top of her—not that she had any delusions he’d be able to even move, if he wanted to—but he wasn’t getting any sleep.

And neither was she, since she was pretty sure the bunk was going to give out at any second. It was clearly broken, and his considerable weight was doing it no favors. She could have sworn it had dropped another half an inch while she was staring at him.

“Sam?”

He lifted his head—as much as he could without bonking it on the ceiling—and looked at her. “Yeah?′

She raised her eyebrow at him, not quite sure what to say.

Seemed he didn’t need the words. Her expression must have been loud and clear.

“It’s fine.” At least he sounded sincere. “I’m good.”

She moved closer. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. Why was he being so stubborn? “That bed is obviously broken, and there’s no way you’re comfortable. I can see from here how tense you are.”

He sighed. “I’m not taking your bed, Cassie.”

“And I’m not having you come crashing down on me in the middle of the night.”

“Cassie—”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, Sam. Get your ass down here.”

He waited a beat—she was pretty sure he was getting ready to argue—but he must have seen how serious she was, because he sighed again and started shimmying out of the bunk.

She took way too much pleasure in watching him move. The way his muscles bunched and flexed was just so bloody mouth watering. And it was fine if she appreciated the view, as long as she didn’t let him know how much she enjoyed it.

The bed gave another loud creak when he got to the end and dropped what had to be a full inch. Her heart vaulted into her throat, and she winced.

He climbed down off the bunk and landed on the floor with barely a sound. And now he was back to taking up all the space. She should probably get out of the way so they could figure out how they were going to do this.

She couldn’t move.

He tucked the ladder back and pushed the upper bunk back into place. Then he turned back to face her, wariness in his gaze, as if he was afraid she was going to give him the boot. He stuffed his hands in his jean’s pockets. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to not let her gaze stray that far south.

She stood there, staring at him, unsure what to do or say. Her mind was buzzing, the hum getting louder and more distracting. The idea of Sam in her bed—no matter the circumstances—seemed to have short-circuited her brain.

His dark eyes watched her, so much depth and emotion in his gaze, she didn’t know how to process the information overload.

The same two words kept spinning through her brain: Sam and bed.

She licked her dry lips. His gaze followed the swipe of her tongue, and he swallowed hard. Something flared in his eyes, there and then gone so fast, she didn’t have time to figure out exactly what it was. Need seeped through her, molten heat pushing through her veins with every hard thump of her heart. An achy emptiness built low in her belly, between her legs.

And then he sighed and glanced at the door.

For a moment, she thought he was going to leave. Her heart rolled to a stop. Which was stupid. He could leave if he wanted. And it didn’t send a strange streak of disappointment skidding through her. That was just exhaustion.

What had she been thinking?

This had been a huge mistake. But kicking him back to coach would be shitty. Especially after she’d made a big deal about being cool with him sleeping here.

They were adults. They could do this. It was just sleeping, for God’s sake.

She climbed onto the bed, the thud of her heart changing, the beat shifting from excitement to apprehension edged with fear. Now that she was on the bed, it was much smaller than she’d realized. Barely a full, if she had to guess. She pulled the blankets over her, trying not to let him see her tremble.

“Turn off the light and lay down, Sam.” The words were laced with steel. She wasn’t sure where they’d had come from, but she refused to take them back. She was tired, too exhausted on a cellular level, to put up with a bunch of crap.

He sighed, glanced at her for a handful of painful heartbeats, and then snapped off the light. The room was plunged into darkness. While the curtains were pulled closed over the door, the ones over the windows were still open. Not that it mattered. They were in the mountains, in the dead of night. There were no lights out there.

The mattress dipped down at the bottom, and she held her breath. She was lying on her side, at the very edge of the bed, facing into the room. She could feel him crawling along the bed at her back. Not touching or bumping her, which was impressive, given how small the bed really was. He’d probably plastered himself against the wall.

Finally, he stopped moving and stretched out. He was rigid and tense. She could feel it in the way he held himself on the small bed. That, combined with the fact that he was still fully dressed, was going to make for an uncomfortable night.

Not that she had time to worry about that. She kept her back to him, leaving as much space as possible between them—mostly because she wasn’t sure she trusted herself not to touch. And, if she fell off the bed from here, she’d probably only get a bruise or two and some banged up pride.

Sam was breathing heavily, but not smoothly, so she knew he wasn’t asleep. She eased back a bit, but all she encountered was cold mattress. Meaning he was still pressed against the wall.

She sighed. “Are you going to get under the covers?” She didn’t know why she whispered, only that in the dark, relatively silent train, it felt like the right thing to do.

“No.”

“Aren’t you going to get cold?”

“No.”

Single syllable answers were not ideal, although she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Sam had never been overly chatty.

She wiggled deeper into the mattress, bringing her hand up under the pillow to make herself more comfortable. The bed could barely be called comfortable, although it was better than sleeping on the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology was quiet, the words rough. Something about the way he said them made her throat feel tight. She rolled over to face him. It was too dark to see anything but shadows, the hint of a shape.

“What for?”

He shifted, making the mattress shake, but remained far enough away that she couldn’t feel him or his heat. “So many things.”

He moved again, and from the way the mattress moved, she thought he might have run his fingers through his hair. Maybe rubbed his face or the back of his neck.

“It’s okay, Sam. You don’t have to say anything.”

“Don’t do that, Cassie. Don’t let off me off the hook so easily. You deserve more than that. So much more.”

She wanted to argue, and maybe she would have, if there hadn’t been such vehemence in his voice, so much fierceness. Because he was right. She always let people off the hook, laying down and letting them trod over her, all the while apologizing for being in the way. She was tired of it. Tired of being the one to always give, never the one that others put first.

“Okay, then,” she said, her voice tight. But she refused to get any more emotional. And maybe if she told herself that enough tonight, she might actually believe it. “What are you most sorry for, then?”

“Today. For making you feel like I didn’t want you, that it didn’t take every ounce of strength I possess to walk away from you.”

Her breath caught in her lungs, which was good, because she didn’t dare to breathe. She was afraid that if she did, she’d talk, and there was no doubt she’d say something stupid.

The seconds ticked by, each one punctuated by the hard thump of her heart in her throat. She was glad he couldn’t see her in the dark because she couldn’t hide the flush of her skin, or the rapid rise and fall of her chest. The heat that had been partially doused by his dismissal flared to life, burning through her at breakneck speed.

“You still there?”

She snorted at the question. Not the most ladylike response, but it was genuine and part of her. “Where am I going to go?”

“Fair enough.”

She imagined him shrugging those broad, delectable shoulders, and a shiver raced through her.

“Are you cold?” He didn’t wait for her to reply, but shifted again, this time doing more than just readjusting his position.

His heat and his scent enveloped her, and she knew he’d moved closer. He was so warm that she wanted to roll toward him, soak up all that heat while she had the chance.

Except, he wasn’t making that sort of move.

It took a second for her to realize what he was doing. He was reaching for the extra blanket folded at the bottom of the bed. His knee brushed her thigh, the unexpected touch like being zapped by a live wire. She jumped, moving back and away out of instinct.

Dumb move, because there was nowhere to go behind her except over the edge.

She reached out to grab hold of something to stop her fall. Her fingers wrapped around thigh. He sucked in a quick, harsh breath and then his big hand was sliding over her waist and her hip, pulling her back onto the bed.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice low and breathy, this time for completely different reasons. She should probably let go of his leg, but she couldn’t quite get her fingers to cooperate. The hard, taut muscle flexed, and she swallowed back a groan. He was so strong, so muscular.

Her fingers itched to explore, to trace the seam of his jeans, see what was on the other end. But that would be bad. Bad, bad, bad…

As if reading her thoughts, his fingers curled around hers, stopping her from doing anything she might regret. Although, right now, she wasn’t seeing a whole lot she’d regret.

He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. Goosebumps raced up her arm, and she shivered again.

He grabbed the blanket and spread it over her. She sighed at the extra warmth and the heat that spiraled through her. He brushed another kiss on the back of her hand and then tucked her arm under the blanket.

The mattress shifted again as he stretched out beside her, closer than before. Not quite within touching distance, but close enough she could feel the fringes of warmth from his furnace like body heat.

She sighed and closed her eyes, snuggling in with a small moan. Exhaustion was barreling toward her like a freight train. She thought she might have heard him inhale quickly, but she was too far gone to really pay close enough attention.

“Goodnight, Cassie.”

She made an affirmative hum in the back of her throat, too tired to form actual words.

And then the darkness overtook her, and she fell into oblivion.

Chapter 7

Sam knew it was too early. He’d bet a year’s salary that the sun had barely risen over the horizon. But he refused to open his eyes to check. Wanted to roll over and sink back into sleep until he wasn’t tired. If only he knew what not being tired actually felt like. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full, good night’s sleep.

The major problem right now was that he couldn’t roll over and get comfortable because there was something on his arm and part of his chest.

He blinked his eyes open, the dim light coming through the window proving his theory about it being too early. It was winter, meaning the sun wouldn’t rise until about six thirty, if it even made an appearance. The gloom through the window showed it wasn’t yet that late. While he normally would already be up and working at the ranch, he was currently on vacation and hoping to at least sleep a little while longer. Especially considering the late night he’d had.

Speaking of which…

He looked down. Cassie was cuddled against his side, her head on his shoulder, her arm thrown across his chest. Her dark curls were spread over his arm, and he couldn’t stop from bending his elbow and running his fingers through the end of the strands.

She made a fucking purring noise and rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. He groaned, all the blood in his is body rushing right to his cock.

He should stop this, now, before it went too far. Before he decided he didn’t want to stop. Before he did something he couldn’t take back.

It just felt so good, so right, to have her pressed up against him. Snuggled up together, they were a warm little package, and he didn’t want to move. No matter that his brain kept screaming he should.

Cassie tilted her face up to look at him. Her heavy-lidded gaze was sleepy, and she was adorably rumpled. Clearly, she’d been sleeping on his shoulder for a while, since her cheek was red from the contact, little wrinkles from the fabric of his shirt indented into her skin.

It was the most adorable fucking thing he’d ever seen.

She yawned, pulling the hand that was over his chest up to her mouth to cover it. “What time is it?”

“Way too early,” he said, sifting his finger through her hair again.

Since just about every inch of her was pressed against him, he felt her shiver. It sent a matching tremor through him.

Cassie must have felt it because she sighed and snuggled closer, sliding her bent leg over his hip. He swallowed back a moan when her knee rubbed against his aching cock.

This was dangerous, dangerous territory, and the sad part about the whole thing was, he wasn’t the least bit worried.

Probably because there wasn’t enough blood currently flowing to his brain.

He slid his fingers down along the length of her spine, keeping his touch light, teasing. She made that incredible purring sound again and arched into him.

His cock throbbed behind his fly, aching to come out and play. It had been a while since he’d had the opportunity to play with anyone, so his body was definitely up for a little naked fun time.

That was definitely not a good idea.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep?” His voice came out low and rough, like he’d swallowed a handful of gravel.

She stared up at him, the sleepiness in her gaze replaced with something deeper, something hotter. “I don’t want to sleep.”

He licked his suddenly dry lips and swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

She shifted, rolling farther into him so she was partially laying on him. A little more and she’d be draped over him like a blanket.

He’d never wanted anything more.

She stared at his mouth, her gaze sharpening with hunger. The memory of their kisses from last night flooded through him. She’d tasted sweeter than he’d imagined. Had responded to him with full abandon, nothing held back.

And, like a fool, he’d walked away.

There was no way she was going to kiss him, not after last night and what he’d done to her. Especially since it had been the second time he’d rejected her. In his defense, he’d had a valid reason. Both times. Even though he couldn’t remember what the reason for walking away last night was at the moment.

He held his breath anyway.

She leaned up and pressed her lips to his. Tentative at first, clearly unsure of the response she was going to get. Which was completely his fault for being such a dumbass.

He kissed her back, sliding his tongue along her lower lip, trying to get another taste of her before she came to her senses. She opened for him, and he licked into her mouth. Her sweetness exploded across his tongue, and he moaned, savoring it because he’d never expected to get the chance to taste her again.

He pulled her over him, turning her into the blanket he’d fantasized about earlier. All of her soft, warm curves on top of him felt amazing.

She slid her tongue against his, changing the kiss from sweet to hot. He slipped his fingers back into her hair, cradling her head in his palm. She dragged her hands along his sides, leaving goosebumps in her wake, until she could slip them under his shirt.

Her fingers were cool against skin, and it was his turn to shiver.

She pulled back and he chased her lips, trying to get one more taste. She laughed and pushed herself into a sitting position. This new position meant that she was straddling him, her knees on either side of his hips. Her t-shirt clung to her breasts, her hard nipple peeking through the thin fabric.

It also meant she was sitting right on top of his dick.

Which, he had a feeling, was her intention all along. A little tease, a cheeky promise, something to torture him with.

And then she wasn’t teasing anymore.

Before he could so much as blink, she took a deep breath—one he was pretty sure she hadn’t wanted him to hear—and yanked her shirt off over her head.

She was gorgeous, with her wild, disheveled hair and her kiss-swollen lips. Her cheeks and chest were flushed the prettiest shade of pink.

And her curves, her curves were killer, all soft and lush. Perfect breasts, more than a handful, with nipples the same pink shade as the flush in her cheeks. Puckered and tight, just begging to be brushed, pinched, sucked.

His mouth watered for a taste. No doubt she’d be sweeter than the cherries that used to grow on the tree in their backyard. He knew he could easily spend hours and hours teasing her. Making her come over and over again just by playing with her nipples.

He grabbed her hips, slid his hands up the curve of her waist until his thumbs rested just below her breasts. Only a few inches and he could have them in his hands. He swept his thumbs across the soft skin under her breasts in a slow arc. Goosebumps pebbled her skin.

She grabbed his wrists, and he tensed, sure he’d overstepped, that she was going to get up and leave at any moment. It would be exactly what he deserved.

But, like she’d been doing for the last twenty-four hours, she surprised him.

She moved his hands up to cover her breasts. Her skin was soft and silky, her tight nipples pressing into his palms. He gave a small squeeze, loving the feel of them in his hands.

She gasped, leaning into the touch. The sound and the way she rocked against him sent a streak of lightning down his spine, straight to his cock.

His hips rocked up of their own accord, seeking the friction he so craved. She dragged her nails along his forearms, sending tingles cascading along his skin. He growled in the back of his throat and squeezed her breasts harder.

She groaned and rocked her hips again. The hot, wet heat of her burned through her pajama pants and his jeans, making his dick thicken even more. As if that was even possible.

He shifted his hands so that he cupped the outside of her breasts, holding them, framing them. A perfect masterpiece. He flicked his thumbs back and forth over her nipples. They tightened further, squeezing into hard little points.

She moaned, the sound throaty and sexy, and tipped her head back. The long, delicate length of her throat was beautiful and inviting. He wanted to taste it, run his tongue along the sweet and salty length of it. Suck hard on the spot where her pulse beat an in erratic rhythm, leaving his mark on her.

The idea of marking her—which was ridiculous and petty, but he didn’t care at the moment—made him tense with anticipation. His cock gave another throb behind his fly, aching and straining to be set free.

She lifted her head, staring down at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Eyes that had darkened to the color of storm clouds. She licked her lips, leaving the pink, plump lower one shiny and inviting.

There were so many things he wanted, and wanted to do to her. Taste her and touch her, make her come alive under his fingers, his hands, his mouth.

She pulled that inviting lip between her teeth and then grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, pushing it up to his chest. Her gaze lit up at the sight of his skin, and a flush rushed through him. He knew he looked good, because he worked hard. Not that he was a gym-rat or anything, but working on the ranch was physical work that built muscle in all the right places.

She traced the lines of his abs with her finger, the touch feather light. His stomach muscles tensed. She circled his bellybutton, and he twitched, his hips bucking, rubbing his cock against her again.

He needed more though, so he sat up and yanked off his shirt, tossing it on the floor. Cassie gasped, and it turned into a laugh as she grabbed his shoulders to keep from falling over.

He wrapped her in his arms and lowered his head to brush hot, wet kisses on her shoulder, across her collarbone, over the rapidly beating pulse point at the base of her throat.

She bent her head, giving him more space, and he took full advantage. He brushed kisses along her throat and jaw. Sought the sensitive space just below her ear. She trembled, and speared her hands into his hair, holding him close, urging him on. He ran his tongue along the shell of her ear and she jerked, trying to escape the overloading sensation. He tightened his grip so she couldn’t get away.

Because now that he had her, he wasn’t letting her go quite as easily as he had before.

Not that he was worrying about that right now. Not when he had Cassie writhing and gasping in his lap.

He slid one of his hands down over the curve of her ass—another perfect handful—and yanked her forward, settling her even more firmly against him.

She rocked her hips, and they both groaned. He spread his fingers over the small of her back, applying the slightest pressure, urging her on.

The slow roll of her hips was the most exquisite torture he’d ever experienced. It was too slow, not quite enough pressure, definitely too much fabric, and yet still utterly perfect.

She was perfect.

He rubbed his hands over her hips, the small of her back, the curve of her waist. So soft and sweet. Her skin was smooth and hot under his fingers.

She slid her thighs wider, pressed against him harder. A moan slid from her lips, the sound soft and sexy.

And he wanted more.

He wanted everything.

Bending his head to her breast, he swiped his tongue over the tight peak of her nipple. She gasped, arching her back, offering herself to him. He was far too selfish to refuse something so beautiful.

He sucked her nipple into his mouth. The gasping cry she made arrowed straight to his cock, and he shifted, lifted his hips to meet her forward rock.

She cradled his head, holding him to her, her grip on his hair just short of too tight. Every time he sucked, she pulled slightly, sending goosebumps racing down his spine.

He moved to her other breast, treating that nipple to the same attention, the same hot suction. She squirmed in his lap, every rock, every shift, every twist, making him hotter and hotter.

But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Needed more. To see her, all of her. Touch her, taste her. Savor her.

He eased her back on the bed, shifting to his knees. The bed was barely big enough, the generic sheets and blankets not special enough. Cassie deserved satin and silk. Expensive and luxurious. Next time he’d make sure she was pampered, treated like the queen she was.

Next time, eh? You really think there’s going to be a next time?

He pushed the annoying voice aside, not ready or willing to deal with anything else but the half naked woman laid out before him.

She was glorious, her hair spread across the bed in a dark tangle. Her cheeks and the tops of her breasts were flushed that adorable pink he’d never get tired of. Her nipples were tight, just begging to be pinched, sucked. Her flavor lingered on his tongue, all sweet and all Cassie.

He tucked his fingers into the waistband of her pajama pants, teasing her sensitive skin. Not moving, just waiting, until he knew she was ready and willing for the next step.

She stared at him, her grey eyes dark and stormy, like the thunderheads that rolled in when it got too hot in the summer. The need staring back at him made his breath catch in his lungs.

He knew he didn’t deserve it, but he was going to take it anyway.

She placed her hands over his and pushed the waistband of her pants down, lifting her hips to help him. He slid the pants over her hips and thighs and then urged her to lift her legs so he could get them off.

He tossed them aside, and then settled her legs on either side of his hips again, unable to pull his gaze away from her.

She was glorious, even more beautiful than he’d imagined. And he’d imagined plenty over the last almost twenty-four hours.

He slid his hands over her knees and up her thighs. Goosebumps sprouted under his fingers. Her skin was so soft, so smooth. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of touching her.

She sighed and shivered. He dragged his fingers closer and closer to the junction of her thighs. So pink and pretty.

He lowered himself down so he was on his stomach between her splayed thighs. It was a tight fit, because of the space limitations, and he was forced to bend his knees and lean them against the wall. Not that he was complaining.

She made a humming noise and hauled herself onto her elbows so she could stare down at him. Watch him.

No one he’d been with before had been so intent on watching him do this. It was hot as fuck.

He pressed his lips to her inner thigh, brushing gentle kisses along her soft skin. She made that fucking purring noise again, and it shot straight down his spine and into his cock. Fuck, she was glorious.

He slipped his tongue up her thigh. She squirmed, her hips lifting, chasing his tongue, urging him where she wanted him.

Silly woman.

He wrapped his hands over her hips, holding her in place. Right where he wanted her. And then he swiped his tongue up and over her hip and across her belly, just below her bellybutton, and down the other side. Tasting and teasing her.

She made a frustrated sound, part groan, part growl, and tried to shift her hips. He smiled and tightened his grip.

“Sam?” Her voice came out all breathy and sexy. She slipped her hand into his hair, tugging lightly on the strands. “Please.”

He pressed another kiss high up on her inner thigh. She was wet and hot, and he hungered for a taste.

“What do you want, Cassie?” His voice was rough, ragged at the edges. So much for trying to play it cool. Not that he cared. Not with her looking down at him with so much heat, so much hunger.

“Your tongue on me.”

The words were low, full of breathless anticipation. She urged his head down with the grip she still had in his hair.

He kept his gaze locked with hers, slowly sinking closer and closer. And then he swiped his tongue right up her center.

She tipped her head back and moaned. The sound was low and dirty. He loved it. So, he licked her again.

Her fingers tightened in his hair. His scalp prickled, sending sparks skittering across his skin. Her thighs inched wider, giving him more access, giving him everything.

Turning down such a beautiful invitation would be foolish, and Sam was many things, but he wasn’t often a fool.

At least not in the last few hours, anyway.

He moved his hands so he was holding her thighs open, giving him room to feast. And feast he did.

She cried out, the sound strangled and broken. She dropped back to the bed, pressing her fist against her mouth, clearly trying to muffle the sound. While normally he would crave hearing the noises she made, he understood the need to not broadcast what they were doing to everyone on the train. The walls were paper thin.

Didn’t mean he was going to go easy on her. Now that he had her underneath him, he was taking everything she gave him.

He flicked his tongue against her clit. Her hips bucked, and she moaned again, burying her face in the blankets. She was so responsive, so uninhibited. It was fucking sexy as hell.

He let go of her thigh and slid two fingers inside her. The tight, hot clasp was enough to knock the breath right out of him. His cock ached with the need to feel her wrapped around him.

She was so wet he was able to push his fingers in deep. She groaned, tossing her head from side to side. Her inner muscles fluttered against his fingers, not quite squeezing, but close.

Time to take it up a notch.

He wrapped his lips around her clit as sucked. Her hips came off the bed, a ragged cry torn from her, muffled by the blankets. He pulled his fingers back and then slid them back in. Just as deep, just as hard.

She was panting, her hips writhing as he set a relentless pace. Her sweet and salty taste burst across his tongue, making him drunk. Drunk on her.

“Oh, God, Sam. Oh, God.” Her voice was quiet, broken, ragged. She grabbed the edge of the mattress, holding on hard. “I’m going to come.”

He crooked his fingers inside her, searching for her g-spot. As soon as he found it, she arched her back, lifting her hips off the bed. He massaged the spot, pressing hard.

The tension in her grew tighter and tighter and tighter. Until finally, she snapped.

Her hips bucked, and she buried her face in the blankets, her hoarse scream muffled against the fabric. Her inner muscles clamped down on his fingers, pulsing and squeezing as her entire body shook.

He held his fingers inside her, keeping them still, letting her body finish. With his free hand, he rubbed soothing circles over her hip and thigh. Waiting for her to come back to herself.

She sighed deeply and sank back to the bed. He pressed soft kisses to her center, unable to stop from tasting her, pleasing her. She shivered every time his lips touched her sensitive flesh, her inner muscles pulsing against his fingers.

His cock was so hard it hurt, but it was worth it to watch Cassie come apart. He’d thought she was beautiful before, but it was nothing compared to what she looked like now. Now she was radiant.

He slipped his fingers out of her, and she groaned, her entire body trembling. He pressed a soft kiss just below her bellybutton and then one just above it, as he crawled up over her.

She didn’t move, just laid there, all flushed and satisfied. He couldn’t stop the cocky grin from spreading across his face.

’Hmm,” she said, and ran her fingers along his jaw. “So pleased with himself.” Her eyes were glassy, her pupils blown. The flush in her cheeks was a deeper pink than before, but no less sexy.

He nipped her wrist with his teeth. “Are you complaining?”

“Not in the least.” One side of her mouth quirked up, and he couldn’t resist. He bent his head and pressed a kiss on the spot.

She turned her head and captured his lips. There was nothing languid or lazy about the way she kissed him. It was full of fire and need.

He kissed her back, just as hard, all his pent-up passion pouring out of him with every swipe of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. She slipped her hand between them, down over his chest and abs, until she was cupping his erection through his jeans. He groaned and pushed his aching cock against her fingers.

She broke away from the kiss, her lips tilted up in the sexiest, most Cheshire cat like grin. “Hmm, poor baby,” she said, the words almost a coo. She gave his cock a small squeeze. His hips jerked, and he groaned again. “Let me take care of you.”

Nudging him over onto his back, she sat up. Her gaze travelled the length of him, from the top of his head, and then down, down, down, where it got stuck on the bulge in jeans. She licked her lips. He swallowed back a moan.

In his wildest dreams, he’d never expected that he and Cassie would end up like this. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve such a gift. If it ended now, he’d be a happy man.

But with the way she was looking at him, he had a feeling it was going to be awhile before everything was done. He couldn’t wait.

Chapter 8

Cassie knew she was staring down at Sam like she hadn’t eaten in weeks and he was an all you can eat buffet, but she couldn’t stop. He was just so damn delectable, laid out on the bed like a feast. And feast was what she was going to do.

Because he’d just given her the orgasm of a lifetime. Yeah, she’d had pleasant sexual experiences before, but nothing like the transcendent one he’d just put her through. She’d never come so hard in her life. Her body was still a mass of tingles.

She skated her gaze over his handsome face and then down to his chest. His pecs were firm, the brown nipples tight in the cool air. He had no chest hair, just smooth, inviting skin. She couldn’t wait to run her lips, or better yet, her tongue, across it.

His abs were smooth and tight, the grooves of his six-pack deep and sexy. There was a line of dark, coarse hair that ran from just below his bellybutton to underneath the waistband of his jeans.

Jeans that were sporting a massive bulge.

Her fingers itched, the feel of him, hard and hot even through the fabric, imprinted on her skin. He was straining against the fabric, which had to be uncomfortable. Good thing she could help with that.

She reached out, sliding her hand over his abs. He sucked in a breath, the muscles under her fingers tensing in the most delicious way. She toyed with the hair, rubbing her fingers over the length of it. Teasing him like he’d teased her.

He moaned, the sound deep and sexy, making everything below her bellybutton tense and quiver. His fingers wrapped around her bare hip, squeezing tight. It was almost like he couldn’t not touch her in some way. The thought was far too pleasing for her own good.

So, she tossed it aside and turned her focus back to the present. And the gorgeous god waiting for her.

She flicked open the button on his jeans. His abs flexed again in that distracting way that made her mouth go dry. The sound of the zipper was loud in the silence, the sound only eclipsed by the blood pounding in her veins as she slid her hand into his boxers.

His cock was scorching against her skin, hard and smooth as she cupped him, skin against skin.

He groaned and flexed his hips, pushing against her fingers. She wrapped them around his shaft and squeezed. The grunt he let loose was sexy as hell.

Out of nowhere, he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her down for a searing kiss. The angle was awkward, a little uncomfortable, but she didn’t care. Not when he was kissing her like she was the only one who could provide the oxygen he needed to survive.

She stroked him, keeping her fingers tight. He gasped her name against her mouth and rocked his hips into her fist. She pressed little kisses along the length of his jaw, loving the way his stubble prickled her lips.

“Oh, fuck,” he said, although it came out more like a groan. “I’m going to come if you don’t stop…” The words trailed off on a moan.

She lifted her head to look at him. He had his eyes squeezed shut, his head tilted slightly back, like he was fighting the urge to let go.

Poor baby, so on edge.

Pulling her hand out of his pants, she gave him one last kiss and then sat up. He made a disappointed noise of his throat and reached for her.

With a laugh, she patted his stomach and then pushed herself off the bed. He rolled onto his side, balanced on an elbow, his frown so deep she was afraid the crease between his brows might end up permanent.

“Everything okay?” His voice was still broken and breathy. And oh, so sexy. Everything about him in this moment screamed sex on a stick.

She licked her lips and gave him another once over. Still so beautiful, from the top of his handsome head to the tips of his very large feet.

As if he couldn’t help himself, he gave her a once over, too, his gaze skating over her skin almost like a caress. It was so different from the last time he’d seen her naked.

She’d been a teenager—a cheerleader—with the physique to match. All toned and muscular. Now, she was less toned, more curvy, a little softer in plenty of places. Usually, she didn’t like being so exposed. Even back then, dropping that sheet had been the hardest thing she’d ever done.

But, here, today, with Sam looking at her like he wanted to devour her, she didn’t feel the least bit self-conscious. His gaze flowed over her like a touch, the appreciation and hunger making her tingle.

She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Why don’t you get those pants off, and I’ll find us a condom.” The words came out breathy and a little broken, but she didn’t care.

He rolled off the bed, his muscles bunching and flexing in the most drool-inducing way. She turned away, because if she didn’t find a condom right now, they were going to be in a lot of trouble. Maybe do something they might regret when the haze of lust faded.

She grabbed her makeup case, sending a silent thank you out to the universe for having the foresight to toss the condoms into her bag at the last minute. She hadn’t been expecting a hook up—especially not with Sam Baptiste—but she always liked to be prepared for every eventuality. It was always better to have something you didn’t need, then to need something you didn’t have. It was why she ended up over-packing for every trip she’d ever been on. She’d never appreciated the compulsion more.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist, hot skin molded against her back. She closed her fist over the condom and then sank back into his embrace. His cock was hard and hot, pressed against her lower back. She shifted her hips, rubbing against it, rubbing against him.

Sam pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the spot where her neck met her shoulder. She shifted, giving him more room. He took advantage, trailing kisses up her neck and across her jaw to the sensitive spot just below her ear. She moaned and shivered. He squeezed her tighter.

“Did you find them?” He whispered the question against her ear, his hot breath sending another shiver through her.

She held up the silver wrapped contraceptive. “Right here.”

He stroked his thumb across the skin just below her breast. “We’re gonna need more than one.”

Everything below her bellybutton throbbed, sending a rush of moisture to her aching core. She reached into her bag and yanked out a few more. “I’ve got more,” she said.

“Good,” he said and spun her around. He captured her lips in another devastating kiss, his tongue licking into her mouth with desperation.

She stroked her tongue against his, feeling the same desperation, the same need. He turned them, so her back was to the bed, and shuffled them over, never breaking the kiss.

The back of her knees hit the bed. The logistics were lost on her because he was lifting her and laying her on the bed with a gentleness that belied the urgency in his kiss.

He climbed over her, keeping his weight balanced on his forearms. She spread her legs, giving him space. He lowered his hips into the cradle of her thighs, his skin against hers singeing her right to her soul.

His cock felt heavy and hot against her belly, and she shivered, the need and excitement in her building to ridiculous levels. She wanted this, wanted him so badly, she was surprised she could contain it.

She pulled away from the kiss so she could stare up at him, catch her breath, try to get her heart back under control. The latter was probably a lost cause with the way he was looking at her.

Like the big bad wolf getting ready for dinner.

She had no problem offering herself up like a banquet, if only he’d quench the ache inside her.

He brushed the hair off her forehead, his touch achingly gentle. She chased his fingers, loving the way they felt against her skin. Loving everything about this moment.

She still had the handful of condoms clutched in her fist, and she held them up, like an offering.

He smiled, a full blown one that brought his dimple out to play. She ran her fingers over his cheek, delighting in the moment, delighting in him.

He plucked one of the condoms out of her hand and pushed back to his knees. She missed the feel of him over her, his heat, the way she felt safe in his embrace.

Foolish thoughts that would do nothing but hurt her, so she pushed them away as she pushed onto her elbows to watch him.

He tore open the foil wrapper and pulled the condom out. She sucked on her lower lip, finally getting a look at all of him. He was even more glorious than she’d imagined, and she’d imagined a lot. Broad shoulders, narrow waist and hips, strong muscular thighs, all covered in smooth, light brown skin.

And then her gaze got stuck on his cock and she could barely breathe. It was long and thick, standing proud. He was uncircumcised, and as she watched, he wrapped his hand around his shaft and eased the foreskin back so it tucked behind the head. A bead of moisture gathered at the tip, and she licked her lips, wanting to taste him so badly she could hardly stand it.

She’d never been with an uncircumcised guy before, and she had to admit, it was hot. Like a naughty little present waiting to be unwrapped.

He gave his erection a few long, lazy strokes. She kept her gaze locked on the movement of his hand and shifted her hips, anxious and excited. He rolled the condom down his cock and gave another couple of leisurely strokes. The tease.

She laid down and reached for him. He lowered himself back over her, his heat enveloping her, making her feel safe, like she was finally home.

She shoved that thought aside, silently praying it didn’t grow roots.

And then he was kissing her again, and all her thoughts scattered like the snowflakes falling outside the window, caught up in a fierce, icy wind.

His tongue dove into her mouth, sparring and stroking with a desperation she hadn’t felt from him yet. It was intoxicating, and she slipped her arms around his shoulders, lifted her leg over his hip, opening herself to him.

She reached down between them, loving the way his muscles flexed when she ran her fingers along his skin. Wrapping her fingers around his cock, she gave a couple of leisurely strokes this time, and he moaned into her mouth. She slid the head of his cock over her clit and shuddered, heat and electricity pulsing across her nerve endings.

He growled, deep in his throat, and rocked his hips forward, nudging her clit again.

She broke off the kiss, tipping back her head on a long, low moan. He trailed his lips along her cheek and her jaw, down the column of her throat.

“Put me inside you, Cassie,” he said, the ragged words muffled against her skin. She shivered, throbbing with want, with need.

With trembling fingers, she positioned him at her opening. He sucked in a breath and rocked forward.

The stretch as he pushed inside her straddled the line between pleasure and pain. He was bigger than any of the others she’d been with. A moan escaped her. He must have heard her discomfort, even though she tried to hide it, because he stopped.

He brushed back the hair that was stuck to her sweaty forehead. “You okay? Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head and licked her dry lips.

“We’ll go slow, okay?” The tenderness in his voice made her throat ache.

“I promise, I’m not some sort of shy virgin.” There was a defensiveness in the words, even though her voice came out strained. “You don’t need to coddle me.”

“Of course not. Here,” he said, slipping his hands underneath her and rolling them over so she was on top, straddling his hips. “You do what feels right.”

She balanced herself on her knees, hands planted on his pecs. When they’d moved, he’d slipped out of her, making her feel suddenly empty. Although she didn’t like the loss, and the feel of him surrounding her, this new position was one of her favorites. She liked the power she felt, the way she was able to be in charge.

He lifted his hands to her waist, rubbing her skin in long strokes that ended at her hips. His eyes were darker than usual, his pupils blown wide with lust. If she let her guard down, she could easily get lost in their dark depths.

That thought was way too profound for the moment, so she slipped her hand down and wrapped her fingers around his cock again. Positioned him at her entrance, and sank down, oh so slowly.

The stretch was still there, the slight burn underneath it, but in this position, she had the leverage, and she used it, lowering herself down in a slow but steady push.

He skimmed his hands from her hips to just below her breasts and then back again. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take what you want. What you need.”

The rough rasp of his voice was like a caress down the length of her spine. She shivered, lowering herself the last couple of inches, until he was fully seated inside her.

His fingers tightened on her hips, doing nothing other than holding her there. No pressuring, no urging, just the tight clasp of his fingers, like he needed to hold onto her, to make it feel real.

She sat up, placing her hands over top of his. Wrapped her fingers around his wrists. Using the touch as an anchor, mostly so she wouldn’t float away. She felt so full, the pressure and stretch shifting more to the side of pleasure.

And suddenly she wanted—no, needed—more.

She rocked her hips forward, her head tipping back on a moan. How such a tiny movement could turn her inside out, she had no idea. But it was maddening and amazing and addicting all in one. So, she did it again.

With each rock of her hips, his thick cock rubbed against her sensitive walls, sending sparks of heat flaring to life in her bloodstream. Each roll of her hips made the sparks burn hotter, brighter, until it felt like she was made of nothing but flame.

“That’s right,” he said, his fingers digging into her hips. He still wasn’t forcing her or guiding her, just holding on. “Take it. Take it all. Take everything.”

His urging, his words, unlocked something in her, something that was holding her back. She increased the rhythm of her hips, gasping as each forward roll nudged her clit against him, and his cock against an especially sensitive spot inside her.

A groan rolled up her throat, the sound low and dirty, even to her own ears. She lifted her hands, rubbing them over her belly, her breasts, her throat.

He slid his hands up her waist to cup her breasts, squeezing gently, making her tremble. His calloused palms rubbed against her tight, tender nipples, making them throb.

“Harder,” she said, the request coming out like a gasp. “Please, Sam…”

He increased the pressure, his fingers making indents into her skin. She purred, a sound she’d never made before, one she’d only ever made with Sam.

“My nipples.” Another breathy gasp. “Pinch my nipples.”

He shifted his grip, taking her nipples between his thumb and finger. Even just him holding them, without any pressure, sent another cascade of sparks shooting through her. And then he slowly tightened his grip, the change so slow, she would have sworn he wasn’t doing anything different.

Except, her inner muscles pulsed, clutching at his cock. She rocked faster. He grunted and pinched harder.

The pain created an exquisite arc of confusing pleasure that arrowed straight between her thighs. Her skin was on fire, sparks igniting along her nerve endings. She was climbing an invisible wall, every press, every rock, every pinch, hauling her higher and higher. Pulling her tighter and tighter.

“You gonna come, beautiful?” His voice was coarse, the words low, dirty. They washed over her, heightening her pleasure, because this was Sam. Sam was touching her, saying these things to her. Loving her.

The tension inside her was barreling toward the breaking point. Closer and closer. Each breathless moment drawing her right along the edge. It would only take a little more to push her over into oblivion.

She slammed her hips down and rocked hard, grinding her clit against him. The spark of ecstasy was like an explosion, white-hot, teeth-grinding pleasure streaking through her. Every muscle in her body tensed, throbbed, pulsed. She threw her head back and gasped, the sound coming out more like a sob.

Sam growled and grabbed her hips, holding her in place. Then he flexed his hips hard, pushing deep inside her. His cock slid against the walls of her sensitive, throbbing core. Heat arced through her. She gasped, color bursting behind her eyelids in a shower of fireworks. Her entire body shook, the aching pleasure pulsing through her with every squeeze of her inner muscles.

Time seemed to stop, the breath in her lungs, the beat of her heart, stopping right along with it. And then, in a rush, reality came crashing back. Her heart kicked into a rapid beat, sending her blood rushing back into her tingling fingers and toes. Her lungs unlocked, and she sucked in a shaky breath. She opened her eyes—when had she closed them?—her gaze crashing into Sam’s.

He was staring up at her, tension in the line of his jaw and the set of his shoulders. The heat in his gaze would have scorched her if she hadn’t already been burned to ash.

Her muscles felt like jelly, and she couldn’t hold herself up any longer. With a sigh, that sounded an awful lot like another sob, she sank forward, until she was sprawled across his chest, her face tucked against his neck. The move made his cock shift inside her, and she whimpered, another shiver racing through her.

He ran his hands up and down her back, her oversensitive skin buzzing at the touch. Goosebumps chased his fingers up her spine.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “That was so incredibly sexy, Cassie. Watching you take your pleasure like that. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

She made a humming noise, the only sound she was currently capable of, and tried to unscramble her thoughts.

It took some time, but the world slowly came back into focus. The cool air against her back, the heat of Sam’s body against her front, the steady thump of his heart under her cheek.

The realization that Sam hadn’t found his pleasure yet struck her. And hard on that thought came the understanding that she was going to get to watch him hurtle over the edge.

She pressed her lips to his throat, the salty-sweet taste of his skin bursting on her tongue. He tilted his head back, giving her room, and she took full advantage, using her lips, tongue, and teeth to tease.

He grabbed her and rolled them over so she was underneath him. This new position made him sink deeper inside her, and they both groaned, another tremor skating through her. He held himself up on his forearms, his gaze locked with hers.

Tension and heat radiated from him, and she slid her legs up and over his hips, hooking her ankles together to hold him tight against her. A sound—partway between a groan and a growl—rumbled through him and he leaned down and captured her lips in a fierce, hungry kiss.

He interlocked his fingers with hers and slowly dragged her hands over her head.

And then he thrust his hips against hers, pushing deep.

She didn’t think there was any spark left in her, but she’d been wrong. Because heat ignited deep inside her, turning her insides molten. She moaned into the kiss, tightening her legs, squeezing his fingers.

He pulled away to stare down at her, his hips thrusting in a relentless rhythm. The heat and determination in his gaze was mesmerizing, intoxicating, and she found herself falling under his spell.

The rest of the world fell away, and it was only the two of them.

His heat surrounding her, inside her. Her body clutching his, inside and out. The drive and retreat of his hips. Deep and hard, and oh, so good.

She tilted her hips, chasing the friction and the heat. His cock skated over the perfect spot, and her toes curled.

“Oh, God, right there, right there.” Her plea was strained and ragged, and she didn’t care. She was so close to another orgasm, just needed a little more, and she be flying again.

He made that sexy growling sound again and shifted to short, hard thrusts

Pleasure burst through her, like a confetti cannon shooting little sparks of electricity through her. She arched her back, pressing as close to him as possible. Her mouth opened, but just before she could scream or cry or yell—she wasn’t sure which—he covered it with his, kissing her hard. Her entire body throbbed and shook, and she made a sound she could only call a wail.

Sam made a sound that was half groan and half grunt—it was sexy as hell—and pulled away from her lips with a curse. His hips flexed hard against her, over and over again, losing the smooth rhythm. And then, with another curse, he pushed deep inside her.

He threw back his head, his whole body tense and tight. A moan barreled up from somewhere deep in his chest, and she felt him throb inside her. Another flex, pushing even deeper, and then he let out a shuddering breath and buried his face against her neck.

He was heavy on top of her, but she didn’t care. Her entire body felt languid and floaty. She pulled her hands out of his now loose grip and slid her arms around his neck and shoulders. Her hands sank into his hair, the damp strands tickling her skin.

“You okay?” The question was muffled against her neck, his breath hot on her sensitized skin.

She shivered. “Yeah, I think so.”

He lifted his head to look at her. “You think?” He shifted to balance himself on his forearms again, taking some of the pressure off of her. Part of her was disappointed, which was silly, because she needed to breathe.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had an orgasm. And I don’t think I’ve ever had one like that, let alone two. I’m not sure I’m capable of proper self assessment at the moment.”

He chewed on his lower lip, and she could tell he was trying not to grin. The cocky jerk. It should have annoyed her, at least curbed his appeal, but it didn’t. Seeing him this relaxed, this teasing, was amazing. She really shouldn’t be encouraging him.

It helped that she knew she wasn’t the only one affected by whatever it was between them. That he’d enjoyed himself just as much as she had. Her inner muscles pulsed in an echo of her orgasm, squeezing his softening cock, and setting off a trembling aftershock that rolled through her.

He sucked in a quick breath, his eyes fluttering shut. The tightness in his jaw, the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders, was ridiculously hot. She skated her fingers over his shoulders and arms, reveling in the tense, trembling skin underneath her touch.

Bending his head, he kissed her, this one achingly soft and sweet. It was the kind of kiss that felt like more than just physical, and it made her throat hurt in a ridiculously embarrassing way.

As if he felt the change in her, he pulled away. That damn crease was between his eyebrows again. Why did he have to be so intuitive?

She forced her lips up in what she hoped was a convincing smile. When the crease didn’t budge, she lifted her hand and smoothed her fingers against the spot.

A yawn snuck up out of nowhere, and she couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard she tried. Sam chuckled and grabbed her wrist, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Hold on a second,” he said, and then he rolled off of her and to his feet next to the bed.

The loss of him, of his scent and his heat and his skin against hers, made her stupidly emotional. She wanted to reach out and grab him, pull him back to bed, and never let him go. Which was ridiculous.

He stepped into the bathroom, and she let out a quiet breath. Her eyes stayed closed for a little longer each time she blinked. Exhaustion was barreling down on her hard.

Sam came out of the bathroom, still gloriously naked, the condom taken care of. She let her gaze travel over him. It really should be illegal for someone to look so freaking good.

He turned on the sink, testing the water with his fingers. The way his muscles flexed while he moved was glorious. She didn’t doubt her mouth would be watering if she was capable of anything other than sleep at the moment.

Grabbing a washcloth, he ran it under the tap and then turned the water off. It took way too long for her foggy brain to realize what he was doing. He came over to the bed and sat beside her, gently wiping between her legs.

If it had been anyone else, she would have been highly embarrassed, blushing to the very tips of her toes. Getting up and taking care of things herself.

But Sam was so gentle, so careful, that she couldn’t bring herself to protest. She’d never admit it out loud, but it felt good to be taken care of for once. Normally, she was the one taking charge, doing what needed to be done.

He tossed the washcloth in the sink and then pulled the blankets over her. Tucking her in. It was the sweetest thing she’d ever experienced as an adult. He brushed the hair back off her forehead and then bent forward and placed a soft kiss in the space between her eyebrows.

“I’m going to go,” he said, his voice soft and low.

The disappointment that stabbed through her was quick and sharp. She tried not to wince, but she wasn’t sure she managed to stop it in time.

“Okay.” Her voice was weak and a little sad. To cover her reaction, she rolled over onto her side so she was facing the wall. “I’ll see you later.”

He sat there for the longest time. She didn’t know what he was doing, what he was thinking, and she wanted to say something so badly, she was practically bursting with it. She wanted to know why he felt the need to run, why he didn’t want to stay with her.

She was being ridiculous. This wasn’t a relationship. This wasn’t even a friends with benefits thing. This was a caught up in the moment hook up. Nothing less. Nothing more.

The mattress shifted, and she knew he’d gotten up. She resisted the urge to roll over and face him, maybe confront him. There was no point in making this anymore awkward than it already was. Hopefully, the train would get moving soon, and then they’d never have to see each other again.

The sound of him pulling on his clothes was loud in the small room. She kept her breathing even, hoping she could fool him into thinking she’d already fallen back asleep. Her chest throbbed with a stupid ache she barely knew how to contain.

She could feel his gaze on her, and she squeezed her eyes shut. He sighed, the sound so quiet she was sure he hadn’t meant for her to hear it.

And then the door opened. A few seconds later it closed, the sound of the latch clicking into place loud in the silence.

She buried her face in the pillow that still smelled like Sam and let the tears fall.

Chapter 9

Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the time. Somehow, it was already close to midnight. He wasn’t sure how the day had slipped out from under him.

Actually, that wasn’t true. It had been through a haze of Candy Crush, Clash of Clans, and self-loathing. His ass was numb from sitting so long. He really should get up and do his hourly stalk through the coach cars. Stretch his legs while he had the chance.

He glanced out the window. The scenery hadn’t changed since last night. The train was still stopped due to the obstruction on the tracks. At this point, Sam was willing to head out there and haul whatever was on the tracks off with his bare hands.

“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” The train attendant had stopped next to his seat. They were back to the original one from this morning, clearly having already moved through another full working shift. He had to give the train crew credit. They were being really accommodating. Especially considering the delay was nothing they could have possibly planned for.

“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” It was the same answer he’d been giving the staff all day. Although, as the day had worn on, his tone had gotten frostier and frostier.

Not that it was their fault that he was an asshole. And that he’d spent the entire day hiding out in coach.

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly hiding. He was sitting in the seat he’d paid for, and anyone who wanted to could come back here and see him. His brother had stopped by a handful of times, just to make sure he was doing okay. Guilt had stabbed through him, because he should have been the one out there making sure Charlie was okay. But he’d been too afraid of running into Cassie to head in that direction, or to take Charlie up on his offer to join them in the dining car for lunch.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. A headache was beginning to form. Although he was pretty sure Charlie didn’t know the specifics—mainly because he hadn’t chewed Sam a new one about how he’d treated Cassie—his brother wasn’t an idiot. He had to know something was up. But he hadn’t said anything or pushed Sam into talking about it, which Sam appreciated.

He also appreciated that the last time Charlie came through, he’d brought food with him. Sam hadn’t had anything to eat all day other than some complimentary pretzels. He’d scarfed down the couple of sandwiches and bag of chips like it was his last meal.

Every time the door at the end of the car opened, he held his breath, praying it would and wouldn’t be Cassie in equal measure. And every time it wasn’t her, he was a little more disappointed. Although, it was no secret why she hadn’t come to talk to him. He’d run out of her room this morning like his ass was on fire.

God, he was such a fucking coward.

His phone buzzed, yanking him out of his downward spiral. He glanced at the screen and then pushed the answer button.

“Hey, Simon.” His voice came out way more disappointed than he wanted. Maybe Simon wouldn’t notice.

“Hey,” Simon said, sounding massively distracted. That was nothing new. Simon was the vet at the Triple C, one of the Callahan sons. He was always on the go, fifteen things happening at once. Lots of demands on his time, not only by his job and his family, but the ranching community as a whole. “I’m sorry to call so late. I didn’t wake you, or anything, did I?”

“No, I’m still awake,” he said, trying and failing to sound anything but tired. “Kinda hard to sleep in this stupid contraption.”

“I bet,” Simon said, although the words were distant, like he wasn’t holding the phone to his face. Probably because he was doing four thousand things.

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

Simon blew out a breath. “A few of the Robertson’s horses got injured this afternoon, so it was shit show. We had to put one of them down tonight.”

“Aw, shit, Simon. That really sucks. I’m sorry.” A pang of sadness for the horse, the Robertson’s, and his friend jabbed him between the ribs. He knew how much losing an animal affected Simon, and that his friend would be thinking about all the things he could have done differently. Even though Sam knew Simon had done everything he could to save the horse, he also knew Simon would always think he could have done more.

Although, technically, Simon was one of Sam’s bosses, they’d been friends long before Sam and his brothers inherited the ranch. Sam worried about Simon sometimes, because he had a tendency to not know how to say no to people, and he took everything to heart.

“Any word on when or if the train is going to get moving?” Simon sighed, and Sam was pretty sure he was stifling a yawn.

Sam’s headache throbbed behind his eyes, although he was glad for the change of topic. He sighed and sat back in the seat. “Nothing yet. They keep promising we’ll be on our way soon, but it’s been more than twenty-four hours now, so I’m not so sure I believe them anymore.”

“Aw, man. That sucks. Keep me posted and I’ll make sure there’s someone there to get you at the station when you finally get moving again.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll just grab a ride or a cab or something.” He pulled out the complimentary bottle of water the attendants had passed out earlier and took a sip.

“Don’t be stupid. Of course, someone’s going to come out and get you.” An engine turning over sounded over the connection.

“Sorry for the trouble,” Sam said. And he meant it. The ranch was outside of town, so it was a bit of a trek to get to the train station. Someone was going to have to go out of their way to come and pick him up.

He hadn’t intended for anyone to come and get him, since he originally was supposed to arrive in Redding at two in the morning. The only reason he’d called the ranch earlier was because he was scheduled to work tomorrow and wasn’t sure he was going to make it back in time.

“It’s not your fault,” Simon said. “And it sucks. I hope it hasn’t been too boring, being trapped on the train all this time.”

The urge to tell Simon about Cassie, about how he’d had everything he didn’t realize he wanted and how that freaked him out, welled up inside him. It took every ounce of strength he possessed not blurt out the words, beg for advice.

“It’s been… fine.” The lie didn’t exactly roll off his tongue smoothly, but Simon didn’t seem to notice.

“Okay, then. Well, call me when the train gets moving again and I’ll make sure someone will be there, okay?”

“Sound like a plan,” Sam said, his knee bouncing with the repressed energy currently coursing through his system. “Hopefully it’ll be soon. Talk to you later.”

Simon said his goodbyes and hung up. Sam tossed his phone onto the seat beside him and stared out the window.

The dim light from inside the car was bouncing off the glass, making it hard to see outside. He squinted, looking for anything to distract him.

Cassie’s reflection appeared in the glass, and he blinked, sure he was imagining it. But, no, no matter how many times he blinked, she didn’t disappear.

His heart rolled into his throat and stuck there like it was wearing spurs. He turned toward her.

She stood next to his seat, her arms crossed over her chest, her hip cocked. Very defensive. Not that he could blame her.

He trailed his gaze up to hers, his blood heating as images of their morning together flooded through him. So not the time.

Especially when his gaze met hers and he saw the hurt in her eyes. She did a good job hiding it behind the tough stance and the frown, but he saw it just the same.

“Cassie, I’m—”

She raised her hand, palm out. “No, you don’t get to talk, Sam. Not this time.”

He licked his lips and gave her a single nod.

She glanced around, probably looking to see how much of an audience they’d have. There weren’t a lot of people back here. Since all the lounge and sightseeing cars had been opened up and were more comfortable, most folks had spent the majority of their time there. He’d been the only one to stay in this car for a good chunk of the day.

Currently, there was an older couple sitting about ten rows in front of them, a family of four who were all sound asleep across the aisle and little ways down, a couple curled up together two rows behind him, and a young man stretched out across the seats toward the back of the car.

She sighed, and he wanted to massage the tension out of her shoulders. But he knew that if he even suggested it, let alone actually acted on the urge, she’d probably punch him in the nuts. He’d deserve it, and part of him actually contemplated goading her into hitting him. It would probably make her feel better.

“I didn’t really want to do this here and now, but it looks like I don’t have much choice.” She kept her voice low, her tone even. He didn’t like it, much preferred it when she was expressive, when she wasn’t holding herself back.

He opened his mouth to say something—he wasn’t sure what—but she tossed him a shut-your-mouth glare and he snapped it shut.

“The last time we did this, I walked away with my tail between my legs because I was too embarrassed to do anything more.”

“Cassie, that’s not fair.” He knew he wasn’t supposed to say anything, but he felt like he needed to defend both of them. She’d been a kid, and he’d been ambushed. He’d tried to let her down as best he could.

She blew out a breath and tucked her hair behind her ear. The brown curls were down, and slightly wild—just how he liked them—and his fingers itched to sift through the strands. “You’re right, it’s not. But our situation is complicated and I need to start at the beginning.”

“Fair enough,” he said, although the tightness in his chest only increased. “Please, sit down.” He placed his hand on the seat next to him.

She glanced at the seat and then at the one behind her, across the aisle. He knew she wasn’t going to sit next to him, and he knew why. But when she chose the other seat, disappointment still spiraled through him.

The space between them could easily have been a thousand miles, it was so massive and cold. He missed the cozy warmth of her room, just the two of them, skin to skin.

Which was not what he needed to be focused on right now.

Cassie was staring at him. The hurt and anger radiating off her sobered him.

“I’d convinced myself I was in love with you, Sam.” She must have realized how that sounded, because her eyes widened. “Back then, I mean.”

How quickly she felt she had to clarify the statement made that band in his chest tighten even further. He had no idea why or what it meant. Just that it hurt.

“And I thought, stupidly, that if I showed you how much I wanted you, how much I cared, that you’d finally admit your feelings, too.”

He closed his eyes, trying not to wince. That night blazed to life in his mind.

There’d been a big end of summer party at the McKinney ranch. Charlie had dragged him along, although he’d gone willingly enough. Charlie and Annabeth were an item, and since Cassie, who was two years younger than Annabeth, had been staying with her cousin for the summer, they’d all ended up spending a lot of time together.

Although Cassie had always been pretty, inside and out, she was a kid, and yeah, he’d known she’d had a crush on him, but he hadn’t thought anything of it. Until later that night.

He’d had quite a few beers, and since he normally didn’t drink a lot, they’d gone straight to his head. Since the McKinney place was next to the Triple C, he’d decided to walk back to the cabin he had there. It was only a thirty-minute walk, but it was enough to clear his head. He’d opened the door to his place and instantly knew something was off. The cabin was small, only a single room, but it was better than sharing the bunkhouse with a bunch of other smelly cowboys.

Moonlight had been streaming through the open curtains. Highlighting the someone in his bed.

It had taken a moment for him to realize it was Cassie.

As he’d stood there, staring at her, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, she’d slipped out from under the covers to stand in front of him. She wore some sort of slinky, short nightgown with lace and thin straps.

While he’d tried to get his brain and his mouth to work, she’d reached up and slipped the straps off her shoulders. The satin slid to the floor. And then she was standing there in his room, completely naked.

He’d spun around, keeping his back to her, trying to process what had just happened.

“Sam?”

She’d said his name, her voice trembling. She sounded so small, so young. The uncertainty and longing in her voice sliced through him.

“Sam?”

He shook his head and glanced over at Cassie—adult Cassie, who had said his name—sitting across the aisle from him.

“Sorry,” he said, swallowing hard, shaking away the memory.

“You know what?” She shifted in the seat, getting ready to stand. “This was a mistake. Let’s just forget about all of it, okay?” She stood and turned to leave.

“Wait.” He lunged across the seat and grabbed her wrist. The pulse under his fingers was fast. Probably matched his own. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about that night.”

Her cheeks flushed that pretty pink he liked, and he wanted so badly to wrap her in his arms and tell her it would be okay.

But he couldn’t do that, because he couldn’t guarantee her any damn thing. And there was no way, after everything, she’d even want him to. Man, he’d really fucked this whole thing up.

“Sit down. Please?” He tried to keep his voice as steady as possible, but he didn’t quite manage it. There was a slight tremor in the words.

She stared at him hard for a moment, and he was sure she was going to tell him to go fuck himself and storm off. He couldn’t blame her one bit.

But, as always, she surprised him. She pulled her wrist out of his grasp and sat back down. Her arms were folded across her chest again, defensive and protective. She kept her expression blank, but her eyes gave her away. That hurt still lingered in her grey gaze.

She didn’t say anything, just stared at him, so he figured it was his turn to talk.

He turned and leaned forward, balancing his elbows on his knees, his fingers clasped in front of him. Kept his gaze locked with hers. “When you showed up in my room all those years ago, I know I handled everything poorly. I was an idiot who’d never been in that sort of situation before. I didn’t realize the depth of your feelings, or how rejecting you like I did was going to hurt you. So, for that, I’m sorry.”

She held his gaze, and for the life of him, he had no clue what she was thinking, what she was feeling. His heart started to gallop, banging against his ribs like it was trying to kick its way out of his chest.

And then she gave a single nod, like she’d come to a decision. He held his breath.

“I forgive you, Sam.” The words were quiet, sincere. And a weight shifted inside him, releasing some of the tension he didn’t even realize he was holding. “I forgive you for what happened all those years ago. I was a foolish schoolgirl with a crush, who didn’t realize what sort of position I was putting you in. It took a long time, but I understand why you let me down, why you had to let me down, like you did.” There was a quiver in her voice, one that made him hurt.

“Cassie?” He reached for her again.

She shook her head and shot to her feet, stepping out of his reach.

The intercom crackled overhead. “Good evening, passengers. Thank you for your patience during this unexpected delay. The obstruction on the tracks has now been cleared. We will be on our way shortly. If you have any questions or concerns, a staff member will be available in your car. Thank you again.”

Cassie’s shoulders remained tight, even though something that looked like relief flashed in her eyes. Her jaw was tight, her lips pulled down into a slight frown. Everything about her, the way she was standing, the hurt in her eyes, the defensiveness rolling off her, made his body and soul ache in an unexpected and unwelcome way.

“Please sit down, Cassie.” His voice was rough, a note of pleading in the words, but he didn’t care. This was too important.

“No, Sam. No. I may have forgiven you for what happened in the past, but that doesn’t absolve you of what happened this morning.”

Panic shot through him, making his muscles tense, his gut clench.

“I let my guard down again where you’re concerned, and got my heart stomped on a second time. Fool me once and all of that, right?” She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “So, I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be so foolish again. Thanks for a memorable weekend.”

The train lurched to life, and she grabbed onto the seat to stop from stumbling. He stood up, the urge to reach for her so overwhelming he could barely breathe. Instead, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

She stared at him for a handful of excruciating heartbeats. He hated that he didn’t know what she was thinking. That she was hurting and he couldn’t help her, because he was the one who’d hurt her. Again.

He felt gutted. Empty. Nothing left inside him but pain.

“Goodbye, Sam.” The sadness in her voice was like a kick to the gut.

And then she turned and walked away.

Chapter 10

The train whistle blew, and Cassie blinked her eyes open. They ached and burned, mostly because she was exhausted. The train shook as it slowed down.

She sat up and a sharp pain shot down her neck and across her shoulder. Wincing, she sucked in a breath between her teeth. That’s what she got for sleeping in the stupid captain’s chair instead of the bed. She just hadn’t been able to crawl into it after everything that had happened over the last couple of days.

A glance out the window showed they were pulling into the city station.

The loudspeaker crackled. “Attention Passengers, this stop is Redding, California. Any passengers wanting to disembark at Redding, this is your stop.”

Even just the name sent sadness shooting through her. Which was stupid, because she was done letting Sam Baptiste and her stupid, confusing reactions to him rule her. She’d put herself out there and he’d rejected her. Again.

So, she was done thinking about him. Forever.

From this moment forward, she’d never heard of Sam Baptiste.

A knock on the door made her jump. Her heart rolled into her throat, and for a moment, the hope that it was Sam burned through her, hot and bright.

She pushed that aside—so much for banishing him from her thoughts—and stood, smoothing down her t-shirt. Yesterday, and then last night, had been too much. Of everything. She hadn’t even changed into her pajamas.

What she needed was a shower and some coffee. That would make her feel better.

She opened the door, her heart ceasing to beat for a breath or two. Annabeth stood on the other side.

“Hey,” Anna said, her gaze travelling from the top of Cassie’s head and down to her feet. “I just wanted to check in with you, see how you were doing. I didn’t see you at all yesterday, but I figured you were busy, so I didn’t want to disturb you.” She glanced over Cassie’s shoulder, as if she was looking for something. Or someone.

Cassie sighed and pushed to door open all the way. She wasn’t hiding anything from her cousin.

“Oh,” Annabeth said, one side of her mouth pursing. “He’s not here?”

Best to play dumb. “Who?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Sam. I know you guys were together.”

So much for thinking they were being discreet. “Yeah, well, that didn’t work out so well.” She tried to keep her voice steady, but by the end, the words had cracks.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.” Anna pulled Cassie into her arms and squeezed.

Something about the tone of Anna’s voice, or the hug, or just because she was barely holding onto the end of the swinging rope that was her emotions, made the dam she was using to hold everything back crumble.

She sobbed and squeezed Anna back, clinging to her like she was a life preserver in a storm. Anna made a soothing noise and steered them into the room. She pressed Cassie into the chair and then went back and slid the door shut.

It was ridiculous, but Cassie couldn’t stop crying. Now that the tap had been turned on, she realized the faucet was broken and she couldn’t stop the flow no matter how hard she tried. Anna thrust a wad of tissues into her hand and then sat on the bed. She didn’t say anything, just sat there, waiting for Cassie to get a hold of herself.

It took way too long, but eventually, the waterworks dried up. Her eyes ached, the corners burning, and her nose was all stuffed up. She used a tissue to blow her nose and then got up and tossed it into the wastebasket.

Anna still hadn’t said anything, was still just sitting there. Waiting.

Cassie sat back down and met her cousin’s gaze. There was no censure. Just terrible, annoying sympathy.

A streak of anger sliced through Cassie. As if Annabeth knew what it felt like to have her heart stomped on. She and Charlie had been together forever, since they were teenagers. And she knew for a fact that Charlie was her first everything. Love and lover. She’d never had her heart broken.

Cassie knew she was being irrational. It wasn’t Anna’s fault that she’d been dumb enough to open herself up to Sam again. She’d known better, and she’d done it anyway. If she was angry at anybody, it should be directed toward herself.

The realization dumped a big old bucket of icy snow over her, and she deflated, everything inside her turning numb.

Anna curled her fingers around the edge of the bed and leaned forward. “What happened?”

Cassie sighed. “I was stupid and let my hormones get the best of me. It won’t happen again.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. What happened between you and Sam?”

Anna clearly wasn’t going to be satisfied until she had all the details. “We talked and then kissed, and one thing led to another, and we slept together.”

“And?”

“And then when we were done, he kissed me on the forehead and hightailed it out of here so fast, you’d swear he was being chased by the four horsemen of the apocalypse.”

Anna’s lips dipped down into a fierce frown. “Did you chase after the asshole? Give him a piece of your mind?”

A sliver of joy slid through her. She loved the fact that Anna was angry on her behalf. Yeah, they were cousins, but they hadn’t been close in a lot of years, and Sam was Anna’s brother-in-law. Was now part of her family. Anna had definitely spent more time with Sam in the last decade than she had with Cassie. It felt good to be the one Anna picked.

Not that she wanted Anna to have to pick sides. Man, she’d really mucked everything up, hadn’t she?

“I was too stunned to do much of anything other than let him go.” She looked down at her hands. She was unconsciously tearing the tissue into little pieces. “And then, after I spent far too long wallowing in here, pretending I didn’t care, I went and found him and told him he was an idiot and I was done.”

“What did he say?”

She looked up. Anna was leaning even farther forward, annoyance snapping in her gaze. “He didn’t say anything.”

“What?” The people in the next car probably heard Anna’s screech. “What do you mean he didn’t say anything?”

Cassie winced. “I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. I said my piece and left.”

“So, you didn’t let him explain himself?”

“What was he going to say, Anna? Thanks for the fuck, I’ll see you around? I knew what this was going in, and it was my fault for getting emotions involved.”

The train whistle sounded and then the train lurched forward. She glanced out the window. Her room was on the opposite side of the train from the station, so even if she wanted to see if she could spot Sam in the crowd—which she absolutely did not—it wasn’t possible. Which was good. Having the temptation removed for her meant one less thing she’d have to get angry at herself for later.

The train had pulled away from the station and was on its way out of the city by the time Cassie looked back at Anna.

Anna was leaning back on her arms, staring at her with a thoughtful expression. Cassie hated to admit it, but she missed the indignant anger on her behalf. She got the impression Anna wasn’t quite so fully on her side anymore.

She flicked her fingers in a bring it on motion. “What?”

“So, you never asked him to explain why he left?” Anna cocked her head like she didn’t quite understand.

Doubt crept through Cassie. She’d been angry and upset and had talked herself into telling him to go to hell. After she’d made the decision, everything had happened so fast. She’d found him in his seat, and everything she’d been carrying for the last ten years had spilled out.

Cassie sighed again, and even to her ears, it sounded miserable. “We’d just hashed out all the stuff from ten years ago, and I was feeling fragile and really didn’t want to get into a whole bunch of other shit.”

“Wait? What?” Anna sat up straight. “What happened ten years ago?” She stared at Cassie for a second, and then her eyes widened. “You mean the last summer that you came and stayed with us? When you were sixteen? And Sam was a fucking adult? What the hell happened, Cass?”

The fire in Anna’s gaze was frightening. Like burn-the-world-down-if-I-have-to scary. And although she currently didn’t like Sam, she wasn’t unleashing her cousin on him when she was like this. He didn’t deserve to be castrated, even though Anna was already sharpening the shears.

“Put down the pitchfork, Anna,” she said on another sigh. Even she was getting tired of hearing them. “It was me, being stupid and acting without thinking.”

And then she told Anna the whole story, starting from when she’d thought up the stupid plan after reading a novel where the heroine seduced the hero by showing up naked at his apartment, to the moment when Sam had walked her over to the Callahan’s house that night, so someone there could drive her home, since he’d been drinking.

Eloise Callahan, the matriarch of the family, had taken her back to her aunt and uncle’s house, and although she’d been perfectly nice and didn’t say anything, Cassie had been so mortified, she’d been praying the ground would open up and drag her down into oblivion, where she wouldn’t have to remember that night ever again.

“Oh, Cass,” Anna said, the sympathy in her voice making the back of Cassie’s eyes burn. “I had no idea any of that was happening. Why didn’t you say something?”

Cassie shrugged. “You had just graduated from high school, and I was only sixteen. I didn’t want you to think I was lame or something. And you and Charlie were so into each other, it was hard to get your attention.”

Anna grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I’m so sorry, about everything. It was a shitty thing to do, especially considering I was the one who insisted you come and stay for the summer. And I’m also sorry you didn’t feel like you could come to me and talk to me about how you were feeling about Sam.”

“I appreciate it, Anna. I really do. But you don’t need to apologize for anything. It was a lifetime ago.”

Anna squeezed her hand again. “But you and Sam were able to talk through what had happened?”

Cassie nodded. “I told him I understood why he did what he did, and that although it had hurt me, I’d been a foolish kid. He apologized for handling it so poorly, and I told him I forgave him.”

“And then?”

“Then I told him that, although I forgave him for what happened in the past, I couldn’t forgive him for how much he hurt me yesterday. I think I said something about fool me once, but I’m not sure. The blood was rushing through my ears, and my heart was pounding so hard, I couldn’t actually hear what I was saying.”

“Aww, sweetie, I’m sorry.” Anna leaned over and pulled her into a hug. Cassie hugged her cousin back fiercely. Somehow, it felt like they’d just crossed some sort of obstacle in their relationship. She felt closer to Annabeth than she had in a really long time. Some of the tension in her loosened. It felt good.

“It’s okay,” she said, and patted Anna on the back. Anna pulled away and sat back on the bed. “It is what it is, and it clearly wasn’t meant to be.”

“You really liked him, though, huh?”

Cassie nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

“Well, that’s enough wallowing. It is my honeymoon weekend after all.” Anna stood and held out her hand. “Let’s go get some food and maybe some booze. There’s nothing that can’t be accomplished with a little day drinking.”

Cassie laughed and let Anna pull her to her feet. It felt like the first time in forever that she’d actually laughed. It also felt really good.

And maybe if she laughed enough—or drank enough bloody marys—she’d forget all about Sam Baptiste.

Chapter 11

Sam picked up his bag and walked to the door of the train. They were just about to pull into the station in Redding, and he couldn’t wait to get the hell off this stupid train and on with his life.

The whistle sounded, and the train shuddered to a stop. The attendant pulled open the door with a smile. Sam couldn’t muster one in return.

“Thank you for travelling with Amtrak. Have a great day.”

Sam nodded and then stepped off the train and onto the platform. He breathed in what felt like a full breath for the first time in days. Although the scent of the city lingered in the air, underneath was the smell of freedom. He couldn’t wait to get back to the ranch and out into the wide-open spaces.

The letter nestled in his inside coat pocket burned where it rested against his chest. Even though it was ridiculous, he would swear the envelope was actually made of lava.

He took a handful of steps and then froze, his feet suddenly refusing to move any further. With a sigh, he spun back around and walked over to the train attendant.

“Hi there,” he said, trying for a smile. He was pretty sure he only managed a grimace.

The attendant didn’t bat an eyelash. “How can I help you, sir?”

Sam slipped the letter out of his pocket and held it out. “Can you make sure that Cassandra McLean gets this? She’s staying in bedroom C in the second car.”

“Of course, sir,” the attendant said, and took the envelope.

A ridiculous part of Sam wanted to snatch the letter back. He’d written it after Cassie had stormed off last night, needing to get everything he was thinking and feeling out. He wanted to give it to her himself, but he’d chickened out, telling himself it was too late and she was probably asleep. Which, in his defense, was true. It was currently just past 8:00am. Even if she had been speaking to him, Cassie wouldn’t have appreciated him banging on her bedroom door in the wee hours of the morning.

He’d briefly thought about finding his brother and getting his advice, but it had felt wrong. Both for the same reason as not bothering Cassie, and because he was the older brother, the one who held everything together when it was falling apart, not the one that needed help. He was the rock everyone leaned on. It was all he’d known, all he’d been, for a long, long time.

“Is there anything else, sir?” The attendant raised an eyebrow at him.

He shook his head. He knew he was frowning, but he couldn’t seem to get his face to cooperate. “No, that’s fine, thanks.”

“Excuse me.”

The attendant moved out of the way, and Linc stepped off the train. He gave Sam a chin lift acknowledgment, hiked his bag onto his shoulder, and strode across the platform. The station was a heritage building that had been built in the 1920s. It usually made him smile, with its quaint covered platform and old-timey block letter sign.

Except today, he didn’t feel like smiling.

He gave the attendant a nod and then followed Linc.

The platform wasn’t overly busy. Train travel was not at the top of most people’s lists, and it only took a minute or two for him to make his way over to the parking lot. He’d left a message at the ranch that the train was moving again with what time he expected them to arrive.

He rounded the corner, getting ready to pull his phone out, see if someone had sent him a text, when he spotted Eloise Callahan standing next to her car.

For a second, he thought she must be there for someone else. No way was she waiting for him. But she spotted him and waved him over with a smile, and his hopes were dashed.

Shame streaked through him. Mrs. C had been good to his family over the years. His dad had fucked off just after his sister Shelby was born, leaving their mom with four kids under the age of six. Since their mom had to work—she’d been a nurse at one of the hospitals—Mrs. C had offered to look after Sam and his siblings. They’d basically grown up with the Callahans.

By the time that Jake, the youngest Callahan, had come around, Mrs. C was in charge of nine kids on most days. And that wasn’t including the McKinney’s next door. While the McKinney boys weren’t permanent fixtures at the Triple C, the youngest, Claire, had been. Even now, she and Jake were still good friends.

And then, when Sam’s mom had died of cancer the summer he’d turned eighteen, Mrs. C had clucked and fussed, and made sure they were taken care of. Sam had moved to a full-time position at the ranch and had been thrust into the role of caretaker for his younger siblings.

Not that there’d ever been any doubt. He’d been the man of the house for as long as he could remember, and it was a responsibility he took very seriously. He always had, and he always would. On her deathbed, he’d promised his mom he’d look out for the rest of them, and once he made a promise, he kept it.

It made him take things seriously. Everyone always gave him grief about how much of a stick in the mud he was, and how little he ever really let go, but if he didn’t take things seriously, then who would? Who would have made sure Shelby didn’t run off in the middle of the night with some idiot, or Charlie didn’t flunk out of school? Who would have made sure Michael had enough to eat when he was done with practice? If Sam hadn’t been there, they probably all would have been shipped off to foster care.

Even after all this time, the idea made his stomach sink into his knees. There’d been a brief period back then where it hadn’t looked like he was going to be able to keep them with him, and it had nearly killed him.

“Mrs. C, you didn’t have to come and get me. I could have gotten a cab or something.” He leaned in and gave her a quick hug. She was a hugger and would have trapped him in a much longer one if he hadn’t instigated. This way, he could get in and get out quick. “I’m sure you had better things to do today.”

She made a noise of disagreement. “Don’t be silly. I was already headed this way, so it just made sense. And it’s never a problem, you know that.”

He nodded, because there was no point in arguing with her. And there was also no doubt that she hadn’t been coming this way at all, and she’d probably cancelled something in order to come and get him.

“Okay, enough standing around,” she said, and pushed the button on her key fob. The car beeped and the trunk popped open.

He stashed his bag inside and strode over to the passenger side. Mrs. C was already behind the wheel. He got in, closed the door and fastened his seat belt.

She threw him a smile and fired up the engine. And then they were off.

They’d been driving for about ten minutes when she glanced over at him. He could tell she wanted to say something.

He turned toward her and tried to smooth his features. Just because he was perfectly comfortable in silence didn’t mean everyone else was. His sister Shelby was proof of that. That girl had never met a conversation she not only didn’t like, but jumped head first into.

“So, you had a pretty eventful few days, huh?” She glanced at him for a second and then turned her attention back to the road.

Holy shit. His shoulders and back tensed, surprise at how she could possibly know about him and Cassie rolling through him. Quickly followed by embarrassment. His cheeks prickled, and he was pretty sure he was blushing. He cleared his throat and glanced out the passenger side window, silently praying she couldn’t see his discomfort. He didn’t know what to say. Somehow, it felt wrong to admit any of it, especially to Mrs. C, who was like a mother to him.

“I mean, getting stuck on the train, in the mountains no less, had to be pretty stressful.”

The relief that washed through him turned his muscles to jelly. He glanced at her, nodding. “Yeah, it was pretty crazy. But the time went by pretty fast.”

His voice came out weird, kind of rough and gravelly. And why the hell had he said that bit about the time? Maybe she wouldn’t notice.

He’d never been that lucky.

She gave him a side eye glance and made a humming noise. The kind of noise she always made when she was thinking too hard about something. “Well, that’s good. And Charlie and Annabeth were all right with everything? It must have been disappointing to have their special weekend ruined like that.”

“Yeah, they were good. They both had some friends and family with them, so they had plenty of distractions.”

“And they’re continuing on to Los Angeles?”

He nodded. “They’re spending the rest of their honeymoon there. Although, why they wouldn’t just fly, I have no idea.”

Mrs. C laughed. “I guess they were looking for a bit of extra fun.”

He nodded again, but it was distracted, because his brain had already shifted back to the train. Back to Cassie. Had she opened the letter yet? Had the attendant even given it to her?

Doubts rushed in, filling up all the empty spaces inside him. His palms were damp, and he rubbed them on his jeans. Maybe he shouldn’t have given her the letter. It was stupid, now that he thought about it. She’d said her piece, and he knew how she felt about him.

And sure, it hurt, more than he was willing to admit, even to himself, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to difficult things. He was also intimately acquainted with not getting what he wanted. Taking care of his brothers and sister had meant he’d had to make sacrifices, so he was used to having his wants pushed to the bottom of the list.

It had never hurt quite so much before.

“Everything okay, Sam?”

He glanced over at Mrs. C. “Yeah,” he said, although it didn’t sound convincing even to his own ears. No way she was going to buy it.

“You’re going to wear some holes in those jeans.”

He cocked his head, unsure of what she was talking about. It took far too long to realize he was still rubbing his hands on his pant legs. He curled his fingers into his palms to get his hands to stop.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you, and you can tell me to mind my own business if you want, but I’ve known you a long time, and I know when you’ve got serious things on your mind.”

The need to blurt it all out swamped him, and he swallowed hard, pushing the urge down, down, down. He didn’t need or want to talk about any of it. What was the point? He’d fucked it up and it was over. End of story.

“I’m here, if you ever need me, or if you ever need to talk.” Mrs. C glanced at him again quickly, before she turned back to the road. But in that split second, he saw nothing but acceptance in her gaze. And maybe even love.

It made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t felt in a really long time. He didn’t know how to process it. Any of it. But especially the stuff with Cassie.

He turned back toward Mrs. C, determined to thank her for the offer, but let her know he was good. He was thirty-four years old, for Christ’s sake, and didn’t need to spill his guts to anyone, let alone Mrs. C.

“Annabeth’s cousin, Cassie, was on the train.”

His heart plummeted into his stomach, which was weird, because it still managed to smack against his ribs, hard enough to leave a bruise. That was nowhere near what he’d planned to say. He scratched at the stubble on his chin and glanced out the window. It wasn’t like he could take the words back. They were out there, hovering in the car like a dark storm cloud.

“Oh, I remember her. She was such a lovely little thing.” She pulled to a stop at a stoplight and drummed her fingers on the wheel. “I take it she was the reason the time went by so quickly.”

“She had a lot to do with it.”

“And I take it things didn’t end well with the lovely Cassie?”

He sighed. “I would consider that an understatement.”

The light changed, and she stepped on the gas, getting them moving again. “What happened?”

He opened his mouth to thank her for her concern, but that he really didn’t want to talk about it. But what came out was the opposite.

“Cassie and I have an awkward history.”

She made that humming noise again, but didn’t say anything else. Although they’d never actually told anyone the humiliating details—at least he hadn’t, anyway—about that fateful night ten years ago, Mrs. C had been the one to answer the door when he’d knocked, looking for someone to take a half-dressed Cassie back to her aunt and uncle’s place.

And then, without any conscious thought, the entire story of his and Cassie’s relationship, if you could even call it that, spilled out.

Not the private, intimate stuff—that stuff he kept to himself—but all the rest. How they’d bumped into each other, literally, on the way to the station. How she’d been so nice to him, even though she had every reason not to be.

He told her about how they ended up chatting in the sightseeing car until it was late. And how Cassie had confided in him about losing her job, and being short-listed for the position at the publishing house. How excited she was, but also scared of wanting it too much and being disappointed if she didn’t get it, how she was afraid of failure.

Mrs. C didn’t say anything, just nodded in all the right places. But it wasn’t a distracted I’m-tuning-you-out-because-I-don’t-care kind of reaction. It was an I’m-listening-and-supporting-you, taking-in-everything-you’re-saying kind of silence and response.

Everything about the situation should have put him on edge. He wasn’t really a sharer, and feelings weren’t ever something he talked about. But something about this moment, about the way Mrs. C was listening to him, made the situation not feel awkward at all.

Maybe a lifetime of holding everything inside was finally catching up with him.

“So, then, she told me she forgave me for how poorly I handled the situation ten years ago, but she couldn’t forgive me for how much I’d hurt her this weekend.” Even just saying the words made his gut squeeze tight.

“And then what happened? What did you say?”

“Nothing. She walked away. Went back to her room, and I stayed where I was.”

Where I belonged.

He didn’t say the words, but he felt them to the bottom of his aching soul.

“Oh, Sam, honey,” Mrs. C said, and reached over and patted his knee. She pulled the car onto the highway, and they were headed back to the ranch in earnest. “Why didn’t you tell her how you feel?”

He shrugged, although the answer didn’t feel the least bit casual.

He’d been scared. Scared of reaching for something and having his hand slapped because he didn’t deserve it. Of having Cassie reject him. There was a reason he’d kept to himself, why he didn’t put himself out there. If you didn’t put yourself out there, you couldn’t get hurt. Don’t let them in and then, when they left or disappointed you, it didn’t hurt so much. Ultimately, it was about protecting himself, so he could stay strong for everyone who needed him.

“You know you’re allowed to want things, right, Sam? That you can have things that are just for you? That you don’t always have to do everything for everyone else? You’re allowed to be selfish sometimes.”

Mrs. C’s quiet, but sincere words, did nothing to ease the knot in his gut or the pressure in his chest. He blew out a breath, the back of his eyes burning.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, so he stared out the window. The winter landscape was bleak and barren. “But what if she doesn’t want me?” He left the what if I’m not good enough unsaid, but he had a feeling Mrs. C didn’t miss it all the same.

It was her turn to sigh. “You can’t control what other people do, or think, or feel. God knows, it would make things so much easier.” She paused for a moment, as if she was thinking of what she wanted to say next. “But let me ask you this. If you don’t do anything, just go back to the ranch and continue to live your life, the same as always, are you going to regret it?”

It wasn’t a complicated answer. He already had enough regrets to fill the Grand Canyon when it came to Cassie. And, while yes, he loved his job and working on the ranch, as well as his family, both the biological one and the found one, he knew there was something missing in his life, and had been long before his weekend with Cassie.

Now, he wasn’t sure he could imagine a future without her in it, at least in some way or another.

“I really screwed it up, huh?”

Mrs. C patted his knee again, this time with a hint of a smile curving up the edge of her mouth. “It happens. Question is, what are you going to do to fix it.”

He put his hand over hers and gave a friendly squeeze. “I think I’ve got a train to catch up with.”

Cassie walked through the vestibule and into the car where her room was located. Although getting lost in a bucket of bloody marys had sounded like a great idea on paper, in reality, she was far too tired and heartsick to stick it out in the lounge car for too long.

The train was just pulling out of Chico when she decided she’d had enough. Barring any additional setbacks, they should arrive in Los Angeles in about eighteen hours, and honestly, she couldn’t wait to get there and get this whole thing over with.

It didn’t help that she kept replaying Anna’s question over and over in her head. So, you never asked him why he decided he had to leave?

She’d been so focused on her hurt and humiliation, she hadn’t stopped to think about his reasons. While she had finally confronted him about their past, she’d been too all over the place to actually ask what was really bothering her.

Had she done something wrong? Had it not been good for him?

Was she not enough?

That, right there, was the heart of it, wasn’t it? She’d been too afraid to ask the important questions because she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer. Sam, more than anyone, had the means to shatter her in ways that freaked her out.

This way, she was the one with the control in the situation.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

She opened the bedroom door. The attendant had been by while she was gone and had put away the bed. While she kind of wanted to sleep a bit, it probably wasn’t a good idea. If she could manage to stay awake until it was at least dark outside, she hopefully wouldn’t screw up her sleep cycle too much.

Maybe she’d pull out her laptop and, depending on the wi-fi, start looking at freelance jobs. She was going to have to find a couple pretty quick if she didn’t want to get into too much financial trouble, especially if the publishing house thing fell through. While she had some savings, it wasn’t going to last forever.

She slid the door closed and turned to grab her bag. An envelope with her name scrawled across the front sat propped on the small folding table under the window.

Curious, she sat in the chair and picked it up. It was more than likely a bid for her to book another train trip, but that didn’t stop her heart from doing a slow tumble. Her fingers trembled, and she didn’t know why.

Of course, you do. You know exactly why they’re shaky and sweaty, and you know exactly who the letter is from.

She swallowed hard and tore open the envelope.

There was a single sheet of folded paper inside. She pulled it out and flipped it open. The words filled up the entire page. There were probably more words written on this one piece of paper than Sam had uttered in the last year.

The writing was messy, but precise. Exactly what she’d expect his writing to look like. She tilted the letter toward the window to get the good light.

Cassie,

I’m not very good with words and all of that, but I’m going to give it a try. I’m hoping that if I write it down, I’ll be less likely to make an ass of myself. Not sure that’ll happen, but it’ll at least save you the pain of watching me stumble over my words, and make even more of an idiot of myself. Now, as to the rest…

I know you already said you forgive me for what happened back then, but I still feel the need to apologize one more time. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I could use the excuse that I was young (which would be a lie, since I was old enough to be better) and stupid (that one’s a given), but all that would mean is I was making excuses for being an asshole. So, I’ll own it. I was an asshole. While I don’t think I actually deserve your forgiveness, I’m going to accept it anyway, mostly so you can move on and put that stuff behind you. A clean slate for you.

That first part was easy to write, but after I had written it down, I got sort of stuck. I thought about leaving it at that, but somehow, it didn’t feel quite right. I sat here for a couple of hours, staring out the window, trying to think of what else I could say. But all I could see was you.

The way your eyes lit up when you were talking about the new book cover you were designing, and how you were so worried about not capturing the feeling you’d felt when you read the story. The shy smile you gave me just before you kissed me outside your room. The feel of you pressed up against me when I woke up this morning.

I’m not going to lie and say there was any other reason for me running this morning other than I was scared. You’re so amazing and I panicked, because I knew that at any minute, you were going to roll over and realize you could do so much better than me. What could a beautiful, sophisticated woman from the city see in a dumb cowboy? Once again, I could have handled the situation better, and I’m sorry I hurt you. Again. And I promise to try and not do anymore shit that makes you sad. Not that I think you’ll speak to me again after all of this. And that’s okay.

Anyway, I’m not sure you’ve even gotten this far. This definitely ended up way longer than I expected. If you’ve managed to make it all the way to the end, please know that I wish you the best. You deserve nothing but good things, and I have no doubt that, no matter what you decide to do, you’ll kick ass and take names all the way to the top. And I’ll always be there, cheering you on, even if you never actually see me.

Sam

A tear dripped onto the paper, and she wiped it away quickly with her fingertips. The ink smudged a little, but not enough to obscure the beautiful words.

She looked at the ceiling to stop anymore tears from falling on the letter. It was probably the most beautiful thing she’d ever received, and she refused to ruin it.

Blowing out a breath, she wiped her eyes with the back of her free hand. She was trembling so badly she was surprised she hadn’t vibrated right off the seat. Her throat ached, her eyes ached, her heart ached.

All of her insides were so tangled up they looked like the Griswold’s Christmas lights. But the feeling that was pushing its way to the forefront was disappointment.

Maybe she’d made a mistake. Anna had been right. She hadn’t given Sam the opportunity to explain himself. She hadn’t even considered that maybe he was dealing with shit, too.

How could he feel like he wasn’t good enough for her? He was good and honorable. He’d raised his brothers and sister after their mom passed away. He had a good job, one he clearly loved, and he was good at it. He was solid, dependable. Basically, perfect.

If anyone wasn’t good enough, it was her. She was still drifting through life. No steady job, a small apartment she shared with two other people. She definitely didn’t have her shit together.

God, she was such a mess. What could he possibly see in her?

She stood and paced to the door and then spun and went back in the other direction. The room was way too tiny, but she needed to move, and she didn’t want to get out there and possibly run into anyone she knew. She needed some time to think, sort through her feelings.

There was no denying her attraction to Sam. Seriously, he was so hot he made her teeth sweat. But it was more than just his looks, as pleasing as they were.

It was… him. The whole package.

His gentleness and kindness. The way he listened when she spoke—like, leaning in, hanging on every word, listened, not just nodded and smiled in all the right places. How he touched her with such reverence, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was actually touching her. It was exhilarating and overwhelming and completely unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

Because, no, she’d never felt this way about anyone before.

No, that quite wasn’t true. She hadn’t felt this way about anyone else before. She’d always felt this way about Sam, even though before this weekend, the feelings had been muted, out of focus.

But now, now everything was as sharp as a sword, and just as dangerous.

Just as deadly.

She’d declared, after he’d rejected her the first time, that her feelings for him were a foolish, schoolgirl crush. Told herself she couldn’t have felt as deeply, as connected to him as she had. Convinced herself it hadn’t been real, that she’d over-hyped everything about that summer. Let her imagination turn it into something more.

But, after this time with Sam, she knew it wasn’t a lie. It had never been a lie. The timing had been wrong. She’d been too young, nowhere near ready, but it wasn’t a lie.

And she’d ruined it.

Let her stupid emotions call the shots instead of stopping and thinking rationally for just a second. Maybe if she’d stopped and took a breath, she would have realized he was just as affected by this thing between them. That he was trying to process everything, same as she was. And that he was also struggling.

If she’d just slowed down for a second, and actually asked him what was going on, things probably wouldn’t have ended quite so abruptly.

She threw herself onto the bench seat, laying back with her arm draped over her eyes. Her mind whirled, everything tumbling around inside there like the wheels on the train.

What to do? What to do? What to do?

Dammit. There wasn’t much she could do. Not trapped on the train like this, especially since Sam had gotten off back in Redding. Unless…

She sat up and grabbed her laptop. It only took a moment to boot it up, but unfortunately, there was no wi-fi signal. Son of a bitch.

Snapping the lid shut, she tossed the laptop aside and hurried out of the bedroom in search of an attendant. Thankfully, she didn’t have to go far to find one. There was one checking the coffee station just down the hall.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice coming out way too breathy and way too fast, almost like she’d just jogged alongside the train for the last half hour, instead of realizing how much she’d screwed everything up.

“How can I help you?” The attendant was smiling, although Cassie could see the tiredness in her gaze and in the lines of her face. It wasn’t a surprise, since the last couple of days had to have been extra hard on the staff.

“The next stop is Sacramento, right?”

“That’s right.”

“And how long until we get there?”

The attendant glanced at her watch. “It’ll be about another hour.”

“Perfect, thank you.” Cassie turned to head back to her room, but then spun back around. “If someone wanted to go back north, up to Redding, they’d be able to do that?”

“Well, the Coast Starlight only runs through once a day. Barring any unforeseen delays, the north bound train will leave Sacramento around midnight.”

Disappointment jabbed her in the ribs, but she shook it off. Midnight was too late, because that meant she wouldn’t be getting into Redding until about three in the morning. She’d just have to find another way north. Maybe there was a bus service or something.

“Thanks again,” she said, and then hurried back to her room. She needed to pack her suitcase, let Anna know what she was doing, and get ready to start the next exciting chapter of her life.

Chapter 12

Sam pushed open the door to the Amtrak station in Sacramento. His heart and his stomach were playing a game of chicken, diving and shoving against each other.

Unlike the tiny heritage station in Redding, this one was big and relatively busy. Which didn’t bode well, because he was pretty sure the train he’d passed, the one that had just pulled into the station, was the one he needed to be on.

He made a beeline for the ticket counter. There were five people in front of him, which wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t good, either.

If he missed the train, if he missed Cassie, he wasn’t going to be happy.

He glanced at his watch, at the ticket counter, where four people still stood between him and a ticket, and then at the platform doors.

A train whistle sounded, sending both his heart and his stomach plummeting into his knees. Come on, come on, come on.

The electronic departures board above the desk said he had about seven minutes before the train left. Not as much time as he’d like, but he could do it. He just needed this damn line to move a little faster.

Each hard thump of his heart counted the seconds. And they were flying by far too fast.

The next customer got their ticket and moved away. Only three more people to go. He glanced at his watch and then at the platform doors again. Against his will, his foot tapped against the tiled floor.

He was tense and jumpy, like a cornered calf. The next customer walked away from the counter. Only two more to go.

“Excuse me. Do you know if there’s a bus station or something nearby?”

The voice slid across his skin like the softest caress, sending goosebumps rolling down his spine.

He spun, his gaze sweeping through the station.

There, at the information desk to the left, stood Cassie. Her dark curls were piled on the top of her head in a messy bun. She had on another soft looking sweater, this one a bluish-green. He knew her eyes would be leaning more blue because of the color. Her jacket was draped over her arm and her small roller suitcase sat next to her.

What was she doing here?

“Cassie?” He hadn’t been planning on saying her name, especially not in the desperate way it came out.

She turned, and her gaze crashed into his. Her eyes widened and time stopped so abruptly, Sam forgot how to breathe.

And then she was running toward him, her bag bumping along behind her. Her coat slipped off her arm, but she didn’t slow down, didn’t even seem to notice.

The distance between them got narrower and narrower. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

When she got close enough, she let go of her bag and launched herself at him. She collided with him, all soft curves and flowery scent. She slipped her arms around his neck, holding on tight.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her just as tight, afraid if he let go, she’d disappear. Her sweet scent wrapped around him. His chest ached in a way he’d never experienced before.

“How? Why?” He could barely get the words past his drought dry throat.

Her mouth crashed into his, the kiss full of the same longing and desperation he felt. Or maybe that was just what he wanted to believe. She swept her tongue into his mouth, licking deep. He growled and tightened his grip on her. Thrust his tongue against hers, doing a little seeking and demanding of his own.

She tasted sweeter than he remembered, as if that was possible. Her soft curves fit against all of his hard, ragged edges. Soothing and smoothing them in ways he’d never felt before.

He broke off the kiss and balanced his forehead against hers. Somehow, along the way, he’d lifted her off her feet, so they were eye level with each other. His breath heaved in and out of his lungs. He took great pleasure in the fact hers was, too. At least he knew he wasn’t the only one affected.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here, Cassie?” He wished the words came out a little steadier, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“I got your letter,” she said, her breath fluttering over his skin.

He slowly lowered her to her feet, mostly because if he didn’t, he was going to kiss her again, and this time, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop.

Tilting her head back to look at him, she loosened her grip, trailing her fingers along his arms. His skin tingled everywhere she touched. It took all his willpower to not snatch her back, hold her against him forever.

“I’m sorry it got so long,” he said, his cheeks prickling. He wanted to duck his head or something, mostly so she wouldn’t see his embarrassment. But he didn’t, because from here on out, he wasn’t hiding anything from her. “The letter I mean. It got kinda long.”

“It was beautiful,” she said, running her fingers against his burning cheek. “And I’m sorry.”

His heart froze mid beat, a thick layer of ice wrapping around it. Panic mixed with pain as he stared at her. She was looking up at him, but for the life of him, he couldn’t get a read on what she was thinking.

She’d never kiss him like that, and then walk away, right? She wasn’t that kind of person. At least, he didn’t think she was.

He couldn’t stop the doubts from creeping in, from seeping through him. Was that the reason she got off the train? To find him and tell him she wasn’t interested? It was the only thing that made sense. The only reason she would be here. Because there was no way she’d choose him. Not after everything he’d done to her. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, and he definitely didn’t deserve her.

It would have been better if she’d just left it alone, though. Let both of them just move on. But, at least this way, there was a finality to it all. An ending, one that wasn’t a tangled mess.

The idea made him hurt.

Her eyebrows drew together, a cute little crease forming between them. He swallowed past the train sized lump in his throat, and resisting the urge to reach up and rub the spot with his fingers. He didn’t like when she wasn’t smiling, when she wasn’t happy. Even if it meant she moved on without him.

“You’ve gotten all tense and quiet on me,” she said, confusion coating the words. She rubbed her palms along the tense muscles of his arms and shoulders.

“It’s okay, Cassie,” he said, his voice low and raspy. Something else he wished he could change, but it was too late. For a lot of things, it seemed. “I understand. But I meant every word. I really do wish you all the best.”

The crease between her brows deepened, her corners of her lips dipping down into a frown. “What are you talking about, Sam?”

He cocked his head, hope creeping into all the cold places inside him. “You, here, now, telling me you’re sorry…”

She stared at him for a bunch of painful seconds, and then her eyes widened and the corners of her lips shifted direction. Her fingers tightened on his biceps. “I’m not here telling you I’m sorry I can’t do this. I’m here telling you I’m sorry for not letting you explain why you left yesterday morning. Letting you tell me how you were feeling.”

His heart gave one hard, painful beat, shattering the icy shell surrounding it. The relief that washed through him made his knees feel like they were held together with chewing gum. The only thing that kept him upright was the fact he refused to humiliate himself any further.

She laughed, the sound light and musical, and pushed up on her toes to brush her lips against his in a quick, barely there kiss. Which wasn’t nearly enough, but he held back from sweeping her off her feet again. Spooking her was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Did you actually think I would kiss you like that if I was going to jump ship?” The amusement in her gaze made more of the tension leak out of him.

She pressed a kiss against his jaw and one against his throat. He tightened his fingers on her waist. Her sweater was softer than he imagined, second only to her satiny smooth skin. He couldn’t help but rub his palms up and down the curve of her waist.

He took a deep breath and chuckled. “I don’t know. Maybe it was like a goodbye kiss or something.” He shrugged, trying for an ease he definitely didn’t feel. On the inside, he was all over the place.

She made the cutest snorting sound. “Give me a little credit, please?”

He pulled her against him, wrapping her in his arms, no longer able to be so far apart. She tucked her head under his chin and slid her arms around his waist. “I was too afraid to hope you’d actually chosen this. That you’d actually chosen me.”

Her arms tightened around him. She stared up at him. The look in her eyes made everything inside him clench tight. “I have no idea what this thing between us is. It’s scary and intimidating and so exhilarating, I can hardly breathe sometimes.”

He nodded, because he understood how she felt. It was exactly the same for him.

“But what I do know is, I’ve never felt this before with anyone else. And I want to see where it leads.” She gave him an extra squeeze and a bright, beautiful smile. She was so stunning he could barely look at her.

He swept her off her feet, holding her close and spinning her around. It was silly and ridiculous and he didn’t care in the least that he was making a scene in the middle of the train station.

Cassie barked out a noise that was part laugh and part yelp and squeezed him tighter. “Is that a yes?” Her words were breathy, full of delight.

He placed her back on her feet and then pressed a quick, hard kiss against her soft lips. “Yes, yes, yes.” He punctuated each word with another quick kiss. Each sip of her lips was like a shot of hundred proof. It would be so easy to get drunk on her.

She laughed again, the sound sliding across his skin as deftly as her fingers. It was his favorite sound in the world. He vowed, from this moment on, to always strive to make her laugh, at least once per day.

Reluctantly, he let her go. Even not touching her for a second was out of the question, so he grabbed her hand and entwined their fingers.

“So, what now?” She cocked her head, staring up at him like he knew all the answers. He wasn’t fool enough to think he did, but he knew the answer to this one.

He lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of hers. Goosebumps chased themselves up her arms, which made him smile. “Now, we go and find a hotel room,” he said, keeping the words low, for her ears only. “Where I can show you exactly how much I appreciate you taking a chance on this. Taking a chance on me.”

She squeezed his fingers. “Taking a chance on us.”

“I like the sound of that. Us.”

She grinned again and bumped his arm with her shoulder. “Me, too.”

Unable to resist, he pulled her close again, sliding his free hand up her spine to cup the back of her neck. He tilted her back, trapping their joined hands between them, and captured her lips.

This time, the kiss was full of joy and happiness and hope. It was so sweet he could hardly stand it.

At least until she teased her tongue against his lower lip. He groaned and opened his mouth, deepening the kiss. She slipped her tongue inside, seeking and demanding. It was so fucking hot.

Finally, he tore himself away, gasping for breath. Cassie was staring up at him, her eyes glazed, her chest heaving. She was so beautiful.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, readjusting her so she was standing. Somewhere along the way, she’d grabbed the front of his shirt in her free fist. She let go and nodded. Her plump, kiss-swollen lips begged to be kissed again. Especially when her tongue peeked out to wet them.

He swallowed back a groan and grabbed the handle of her bag with his free hand. If they didn’t get out of here, he was going to do something they’d both probably regret.

She scooped up her coat, and then they made their way out of the train station and over to his truck. He tossed her bag in the back and then climbed behind the wheel.

Cassie was already buckled into the passenger seat, and she looked over at him with a radiant smile.

His new goal was to make her laugh and smile at least once every day. Shouldn’t be too difficult, given the way she made him feel. Like, for the first time in his life, he had everything to look forward to.

“What’s the smile for?” The teasing note in her voice matched the sparkle in her eyes.

“You,” he said, popping the truck into reverse and backing out of the spot. “And whatever the future holds.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt and slid over to the middle of the bench seat. He’d never been so grateful for having an older truck. She buckled herself in and then leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

He twined the fingers of his right hand with hers. She sighed and snuggled closer. He pressed another kiss against the soft skin on the back of her hand.

Life was funny. Just when you thought it was perfect, it threw you an unexpected curveball so out of left field, you didn’t have time to react. He was just glad Cassie was willing to pick him up off the field after the ball had beaned him.

And he planned to show her just how much he appreciated her willingness to take on a ridiculously hopeless case like him. She clearly was remarkable, and he was going to prove to her every day that her decision to take a chance on him, take a chance on them, was one she’d never regret.

Epilogue

A few months later…

Cassie pulled up to the small farmhouse and cut the engine on her new, small hatchback. The butterflies that had taken up residence in her belly about six weeks ago all took flight, making her feel queasy. But in a good way.

She glanced at her watch. She was way too early, but the nerves and excitement had made her restless. And staying cooped up in the rental any longer had been leading toward her skin peeling itself right off her body.

So, here she was, parked out front of one of the biggest steps she’d ever taken in her entire life.

She got out of the car, the early summer heat already creeping toward sweltering, and sending her sweat glands into overdrive. Air conditioning was definitely going to the top of their list.

The house was older, but not heritage or anything. Quaint is what she would use if she had to describe it. The pale blue wooden siding definitely needed to be scraped and repainted, as did the white trim around the windows and on the porch that wrapped around the front and right-hand side of the building. There were pretty flower beds around the edge of the porch, and a big tree with a tire swing hanging from the branches in the side yard. The house was situated on an acre of land halfway between the city and the Triple C ranch. Not big enough for a big, industrial farm, but perfect for a family.

The sound of a vehicle coming up the driveway made her turn, and she lifted her hand to shield her eyes against the bright afternoon sun. The sight of the black truck made her heart beat faster and her lips tilt up in a smile.

Sam parked his truck next to her car and got out, a matching grin on his handsome, chiseled face. She’d never get tired of looking at him, with his sharp features and dark eyes. Her gaze dipped down to the tips of his work boots, and then slowly travelled up the long, lean length of him.

How did she get so freaking lucky?

He strode over and pulled her into his strong arms, lifting her off her feet and swinging her around. She squealed and wrapped herself around him. Not that it was a hardship. She loved being exactly where she was. There was no better place in the world.

“I see you were just as anxious as I was.” He gave her one last squeeze and then lowered her to her feet.

“I couldn’t help it,” she said, sliding her fingers down his arms and then intertwining them with his. “And it wasn’t like I could concentrate on work. My mind kept drifting, and I was pretty much useless.”

He bent down and kissed the end of her nose. “Even distracted, I have no doubt that whatever you’re working on is amazing. There’s so much creativity in just the tip of your pinky, you could slap something together in an hour, and it would still be brilliant.”

A flush of warmth rushed through her. No one had ever been so supportive of her and her work. The faith Sam had in her was both humbling and extremely sexy. Not that everything Sam Baptiste did wasn’t sexy. Every inch of the man was sex-on-a-stick-delicious.

He cocked his head. “When’s this one due? Are you in a serious time crunch, or do you have a few days to focus on this?” He waved their clasped hands in the direction of the house.

She glanced at the house and then back at him. The butterflies in her belly doubled their efforts, making her queasy in a not so good way this time. Not that she was doubting their decision. It was just that, sometimes, she couldn’t quite believe the turn her life had taken over the last few months.

She’d gone from unhappy, alone, and unemployed in Los Angeles, to blissful, so stupidly in love she could hardly stand it, and working her dream job in Redding. The publishing house had loved her designs and concepts, and had offered her the full-time, head designer position for their new imprint. She had two junior designers working for her, but basically, all the final decisions were hers. It was exciting and nerve-wracking, and everything she’d ever wanted.

The other huge bonus was that the publisher had loved her work so much, they conceded to her request to work remote, instead of in-house in New York City. She and Sam had discussed her moving across the country if it came to that, and he’d been so freaking sweet and supportive, she’d practically fallen all the way in love with him on the spot.

Of course, he’d been thrilled when the publisher had said they had no problem with her working remotely—yay for tech and the ability to Zoom—and he wasn’t the only one. It had almost killed her when she thought she’d have to decide between Sam and her career.

She shook her head. “Nope, this one isn’t due until the first week of July, so we’ve got a few weeks where things are pretty quiet. I just have to oversee some of the smaller projects and sign off on the final design for the marketing thing I told you about last night.”

His grin deepened and turned wicked, morphing into the kind that made his dimple appear. Keeping their fingers locked, he wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled her against him. “That’s good, because I can think of plenty of things to keep us occupied for the next little while.”

She laughed. “Things like?”

“Making love in every room of our new house.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan.”

The sound of a car coming up the driveway shattered the spell that had woven itself around them. She glanced over. Gabby Martinez, their realtor, pulled up next to Sam’s truck.

Gabby cut the engine and climbed out of her car. “Hey, guys.”

Cassie let go of Sam and freed one of her hands so she could give a small wave. “Hi, Gabby.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Gabby hurried over to them, tucking her dark hair behind her ear.

Sam shook his head. “You’re not late. We’re just over-eager.” He squeezed Cassie’s fingers and those damn butterflies in her belly decided to do a jitterbug.

Gabby clapped her hands together and smiled. “Completely understandable.” She reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope and a set of keys.

Cassie’s entire body trembled, the anticipation and nerves rushing through her so fast, her knees wobbled. As usual, Sam knew what she needed and pulled her into his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. The solid length of him grounded her, brought her back to center. She leaned her cheek against his chest and just breathed, safe in the knowledge he had her back. Same as she had his. They were a team.

“Congratulations, you guys,” Gabby said, and held out the paperwork and the keys. “You’re officially homeowners.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, and took the envelope and keys. His voice was suspiciously rough, and he cleared his throat. But Cassie knew the truth. This was just as amazing and emotional for him as it was for her. He just was still under the delusion he needed to be stoic and strong all the time.

But he was working on it and his communication skills, which was more than she could ask. She loved him exactly as he was, but if he wanted to work on bettering himself, moving past his misconceptions, she wasn’t about to get in his way. Same way he didn’t get in hers.

“If you need anything, you’ve got my number.” Gabby pulled her car keys out of her bag. “And, once again, congratulations.” Then she turned and headed back to her car.

Cassie stood next to Sam, the two of them wrapped around each other. Gabby got into her car, gave them a quick wave, and then pulled a U-turn and headed back down the driveway toward the road. Leaving the two of them standing there in front of their new house.

Sam squeezed her shoulders. “When are the movers supposed to arrive?”

She glanced at her watch. “Not for a couple of hours.”

Neither she nor Sam had a lot of stuff—neither of them had set down any permanent roots anywhere—but altogether it was still enough to fill a medium-sized truck. They were definitely going to need to buy some more furniture to fill up their house, though.

The house had three bedrooms, although one of them was being converted to an office for her, but that still left the master suite and a guest room. Not to mention the living room, family room, and dining room, which all needed more furniture to make them comfortable. To make it feel like a home. Their home.

“Good,” he said, and swept her up into his arms.

She laughed and hooked her arm around his neck. “What are you doing?”

His boots crunched on the gravel as he made his way toward the porch. “Carrying you across the threshold.”

She ran her fingers through his hair. He’d lost his hat somewhere along the way today, because he’d be wearing it this morning when he left. It was probably on the seat of his truck. “Isn’t that the tradition for when you’re married?”

He shrugged and strode up the stairs. “I don’t care if it’s not traditional. This is a big step for us and I want to start it off right.”

She pressed a quick kiss to the spot just below his ear. A growl rumbled through his chest and right into her. Heat banded low in her belly. She’d never understand how such a small sound, or an innocent look, or a harmless touch, could turn her into a puddle of goo. It was clearly one of Sam’s many gifts.

Unlocking the door, he pushed it open. The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows on the side of the house, making the dust motes almost sparkle. She would think about all the cleaning that needed to be done later. She currently had way more exciting and naughty things to think about.

Sam stepped across the threshold and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Welcome home, Cassie.”

She smiled and turned her face to his, pressing her lips against his in a soft, sweet kiss. It was a tease, and she knew it would never be enough for him. For either of them. She’d bet just about anything that within minutes, they’d both be naked and christening the first room in their new house. She couldn’t wait. “Welcome home, Sam.”

Want to read more about the Triple C and the Callahans? You can get Mason and Grace’s story, His Saving Grace, here.

(Turn the page for a sneak peek!)

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His Saving Grace

Chapter 1

Grace watched the cloud of dust make its way toward the house. She leaned against the front porch railing, gripping the smooth wood until her fingers ached. The afternoon sun was bright, and she squinted, trying to get a look at the vehicle barreling down the driveway.

Comings and goings weren’t unusual at the ranch, but every time she got word of a vehicle approaching, she couldn’t let go of the urge to watch and wait. It was somewhat fatalistic, and recklessly stupid, but the idea of not knowing, of being surprised, snuck up on, was worse.

Curiosity killed the cat. The old, tired proverb flitted through her mind in a sing-songy echo. Hopefully not a premonition.

The seconds ticked by, the what-ifs pounding around inside her head, her stomach knotted up like silky threads of the friendship bracelets she used to make as a kid. Not that she’d had many friends. Either then, or now. The reminder caused each little knot to pull tighter with every hard thum-thump of her heart.

She shaded her eyes, and finally caught a glimpse of a blue, vintage pickup truck speeding out of the dust. The vehicle wasn’t familiar, but that meant nothing. She’d only been working at the ranch for a few weeks. But that caution she’d cultivated over the last few months refused to budge. She wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt, her knotted gut tightening to almost painful levels.

“The prodigal son returns.”

The unexpected voice sent her heart careening into her throat. Pressing her hand against her chest, she turned. She hadn’t heard anyone approach, her focus on the unknown newcomer.

Sam Baptiste, the ranch foreman, stood beside her, sipping on a glass of lemonade. He was tall and lean, with dark hair and eyes, his handsome face highlighted by sharp, angular features, courtesy of his Native American heritage.

“What?” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. No matter how tightly she pulled it back, strands always escaped. She still wasn’t used to the shorter length.

Sam tilted his chin in the direction of the truck. “That’s Mason Callahan’s truck. Hasn’t been seen on this ranch in… let’s see… fifteen years, now.”

“How do you know it’s him?”

Sam gifted her with a gorgeous smile. “That truck’s his baby. He rebuilt it from scratch. No one else was ever allowed to touch it. He wouldn’t even let Owen drive it, and those two were practically inseparable back then.”

Grace turned back. The truck came closer and closer to the house. And then, at what felt like the last second, it slid to a stop at the end of the driveway, kicking up a cloud of dust and spraying rocks in every direction.

“He was in Afghanistan. Got injured in the line of duty last year. A Major in the Army, honorably discharged through medical retirement.” Sam’s words sent a pang of sadness, possibly pity, flaring to life in her chest. He turned and disappeared into the house. If she was smart, she’d do the same.

Apparently, the California summer heat had fried her brain, because she stayed put.

The driver’s side door opened, and a tall, dark-haired man got out. He wore jeans, a plain navy-blue t-shirt, and aviator sunglasses. Unlike most of the men around here, he wasn’t wearing boots. He had on running shoes.

A gorgeous golden retriever bounded out behind him. The dog, excited at being free, jumped up. He nudged the dog down and pointed his finger in a clear reprimand.

Grace couldn’t hear what he said because he kept his voice low. He waited a beat and then reached down and ran his fingers over the dog’s head. The dog’s tongue flopped out of the side of its mouth, its tail sweeping back and forth a million miles a minute. The guy said something else and then made a shooing motion with his hand. The dog perked up and then raced the thirty or so feet to the porch. Mason followed at a much slower pace. He walked with a slight limp, favoring his right leg.

The clinician in her sized up the injury instantly. She’d bet just about anything he had a cane somewhere, one he was not using. Stupid, stubborn man, rejecting doctor’s orders. Did he not know he could be doing more damage? Macho tendencies, pure unadulterated vanity, and the need to never look weak. Those were always the reasons guys refused to follow simple directions.

The urge to rush to help him, to ease his suffering was almost too much. But she held back, barely. She was no longer that person, and she needed to remember that. No matter how much it hurt to ignore someone else’s pain.

The dog raced up the porch steps and came to a sliding stop at the top. Its tongue still hung out of its mouth, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Realizing she was far too distracted by the adorable dog, she turned her gaze back to this Mason Callahan.

He made his way toward the whitewashed front porch of the farmhouse. He was noticeably uncomfortable, his steps slow and careful. The closer he got, the more difficult pulling her gaze from him became.

He was definitely a Callahan. He had the same coloring and build as all the rest of them. Not that she doubted Sam. But she’d only started working at the ranch a few weeks ago, and Mason hadn’t come up in conversation.

The family portrait that hung over the fireplace in the living room included the entire family, so she knew there was another son. The picture had to be close to twenty years old, though, because Jake, the youngest Callahan, was no more than a boy in it. There were other family photos sprinkled throughout the house, but she had been drawn to the one of the soldier.

He was young in the photo, no older than eighteen or nineteen, decked out in his service uniform. Something about the photo—the lift of his chin, the set of his jaw, the gleam in his eyes—captivated her, and she stared at it often.

Curiosity had burned the tip of her tongue, but she hadn’t wanted to ask about him, in case he’d been killed in action or something. And yeah, she also hadn’t wanted anyone asking her any personal questions in return, so she’d kept her mouth shut.

Something soft brushed against her fingers. She looked down. The retriever had moved to sit next to her, looking up at her with soulful, trusting brown eyes. A little piece of her heart melted. She’d always been a sucker for animals.

“Hello, gorgeous.” She crouched, so she was eye level with the dog. The dog, panting from excitement, the California summer heat or both, leaned into her, almost knocking her over. Grace laughed and braced one hand against the wooden porch railing. She shuffled to her knees, squaring her position so she didn’t end up on her butt. She stroked the silky fur of the dog’s ruff.

“What’s your name, huh?”

The dog leaned forward and licked Grace’s face.

“No, no kissing.” Grace sputtered the words through a laugh. She nudged the dog back a little, trying to get it so they weren’t sharing the same air. As if it was a game, the dog leaned forward with a little more weight, licking at Grace’s face more frantically. Grace squealed—honest to God, squealed—at the playful pooch’s antics. She caught sight of Mason at the base of the steps and her face exploded with heat at her childish reaction.

Mason took the porch steps one at a time, his right leg jerky and slightly awkward. His jaw was clenched tight, as if he held back a curse—or a string of them. Her brain buzzed with ways she could help him, what sort of therapy she could do to ease the obvious pain he was in, fix the awkwardness and overcompensation of his steps.

At the top of the stairs, he stopped and pulled off his sunglasses to stare down at her. Yup, he was definitely a Callahan. All the brothers shared those inky blue eyes.

“Tank, come.” Mason’s deep voice echoed around the porch. His tone said he was someone used to giving orders. The kind that brooked no argument.

The dog immediately pulled back. It walked over to him and sat next to his leg, leaning into him. Mason stroked the silky fur on the dog’s head. It was almost like an involuntary or instinctual reaction on his part. Like he couldn’t not touch the dog.

Taking a deep breath, Grace tried to drag everything back under control. She took a quick moment to study Mason through her lashes. His face, while handsome—who was she kidding? He was gorgeous—was all hard angles and sharp lines. Intense. Similar to the photo that fascinated her, but so much more in the flesh.

She dropped her gaze to his injured hip, unable to help herself. Her brain had already started working out a course of treatment. He stood with his weight balanced on his left leg, taking all the pressure off the right. If he was using a cane, he’d be able to stabilize…

“Who are you?” Another command.

Crap, she’d been staring. Her gaze shot to his face. “I’m, ah… Gr—Grace…” She flushed. Stammering? What was wrong with her?

“Grace who?”

Unease rolled through her, and she scrambled to her feet, wiping her palms on her skirt again. Self-consciousness flared to life under his scrutiny. “Sm—Smith?” She silently cursed the weakness in her voice.

“Are you asking me?” One side of his mouth turned down in half a frown, suspicion sharpened his gaze. “Because that’s what it sounds like.”

Grace opened her mouth to reply, but was saved by the squeak of the screen door. Mason and the dog both whirled around at the sound. The dog’s tail thumped against the porch, although this time, the dog didn’t leave his side.

Eloise Callahan breezed onto the porch from inside the house, looking lovely as usual, in a navy and white polka-dotted sundress. Her blonde hair, which contained just a hint of gray at the temples, was pulled back into an elegant chignon and held in place by a jeweled comb. Her eyes widened and a radiant smile spread across her face, making her look much younger. Not that she was old. Grace would bet she hadn’t celebrated her fiftieth birthday all that long ago.

“Mason, my darling.” Eloise’s melodic voice took on a husky quality, like her throat had thickened at the sight of her son. She rushed forward and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight. The dog, sensing Eloise’s happiness, wagged its tail faster, the thud as it hit the wood reverberating around the porch.

Mason wrapped her in his arms and his shoulders released some of their tension. The dog whimpered, nudged its nose between them, and moved forward, wanting in on the action.

“Hello, Mama,” Mason said, his voice low and raspy.

Eloise’s arms tightened, like she was refusing to let go, even as he tried to pull away.

A sliver of envy slid under Grace’s skin. It had undoubtedly been some time since Mason and Eloise had seen each other. That she’d never get to hold her mom like that, never get to talk with her, never get to laugh with her, never get to argue with her again, was like a punch to the chest. The half-mended fissure in her heart cracked open. Heartache oozed into her bloodstream.

Feeling like an intruder and needing a moment to wrangle her emotions, she shuffled to the right, sizing up the distance to the front door. The mother and son reunion was firmly planted between her and freedom. If she was quick, she could squeeze by before anyone was the wiser.

She took a couple of steps, holding her breath, as if that would somehow make her escape effortless. Tank shifted her attention to Grace and bounded over. To avoid stepping on the dog, she took a small step to the side, but misjudged the direction Tank was moving and ended up overcompensating and losing her balance.

Grace pitched forward, her front coming into full contact with Mason’s broad back. She oofed, the breath bouncing out of her lungs. To steady herself, she planted her palms on the hard, hot muscle. Her fingers tingled with the urge to explore the flesh underneath her hands.

Mason glanced over his shoulder. Something she couldn’t begin to decipher flared in his eyes, and his jaw tightened. He jerked away from her touch, pulling out of his mother’s grip and spinning so his back was no longer to Grace.

Eloise, oblivious to whatever had happened between Mason and Grace—not that she had any idea, either—clapped her hands and bent down to scratch the dog’s head. “And who is this?”

“Tank.” Mason’s gaze locked on Grace, and she could almost feel the press of the glass microscope slides clamping over her. She felt like a specimen that he was not only studying, but one he was trying to find a way to dissect.

Grace’s fingers twisted in the fabric of her skirt. A trickle of sweat ran down between her breasts, and she battled the urge to reach up and brush it away.

She licked her lips, refusing to be intimidated. She would not show any fear or break eye contact with the hulking giant. This was the new her. She tipped her chin up a touch and held his inky stare.

Eloise cooed at the dog, rubbing the fur behind its ears, oblivious to the epic stare down happening on her front porch. The dog flopped over on its back, belly exposed and waiting. “Why on earth would you name her Tank if she’s a girl?”

“She was already named when I got her. She belonged to one of the guys that was…” Mason’s words trailed off into nothing, and something flickered in his eyes. And then it was gone. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

Eloise rubbed Tank’s belly one last time and then stood. She faced both Grace and Mason, the dog still sprawled between them. She smiled at Grace and then turned to her son. Her lips pursed at the hard stare he had leveled at Grace. “For goodness’ sake, Mason. What has gotten into you?”

Mason shifted his gaze away from her to look at his mother. Grace sucked in a silent breath, tension leaking from her now that his intense blue eyes were off her. Mason didn’t comment, just raised a dark eyebrow at his mother.

The older woman sighed. If exasperation could be defined by a single sound, that would be it. She placed her hand on Grace’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. A little more of Grace’s tension melted away. “Mason, this is Grace. Grace, my eldest son, Mason.”

“Yeah, I already got that. What I want to know is, who is she? Why is she here?” He crossed his arms over his massive chest. The fabric of his tee shirt pulled tight over his biceps. Heat prickled across her skin and she forced her gaze away. She shouldn’t be ogling the man in front of his mother.

Yeah, because that’s what you should be worried about? You shouldn’t be ogling him, period. No matter how ogle-worthy he is, he is so far off limits, you couldn’t even see him if you had binoculars.

“Mason Calvin Callahan, where are your manners? Is that any way to talk?” Eloise swatted at his elbow. His biceps rippled as he dropped his arms to his sides. This new vibe wasn’t any less intimidating.

“I…I’m Mrs. Calla…Callahan’s…” Grace couldn’t seem to get the words out. For some reason, her mouth had dried up, flustering her even more.

“Is the stutter a normal thing?”

“Mason.” Eloise’s eyes widened, and she reached out and grabbed his arm. Her knuckles were white, meaning she was squeezing his arm pretty damn hard. He didn’t even flinch.

Grace cleared her throat, pushing her unease down into her gut. “No, it’s not a normal thing,” she said, happy her voice finally decided to cooperate. The words came out normal this time, if somewhat breathy. “I’m Mrs. Callahan’s assistant.”

He snorted. “Like my mother needs any assistance.”

Grace’s gaze darted to the woman in question and then back to her son. What could she possibly say? She knew how ridiculous it sounded. Eloise Callahan was a vibrant, capable woman. Grace wasn’t fooled. The only reason Eloise had hired her was because Grace had reeked of desperation.

“Grace, can you give us a minute?” Eloise turned to her with a kind smile.

Grace nodded, all too happy to get the hell off the porch. And out of Mason Callahan’s trajectory. She hurried past them and the dog, Mason’s gaze boring into her all the while. The pressure of his stare weighed on her until the moment the front door closed behind her.

The urge to turn, peek through the window, get one last look at Mason, clawed at her insides, but she sank back against the door instead. She wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t look. She didn’t care. Her skin was sweaty, and she used the front of her shirt like a fan. She wished she could blame the California summer heat.

What the hell? She hadn’t had a physical reaction to someone like that…well, ever. The whole thing had thrown her. But it didn’t matter, because she wouldn’t be here long, anyway. She just needed to avoid him, and any pesky questions he might think up, until she was ready to leave.

She mentally counted the small stash of cash she had hidden in the guest house. Damn it. She needed to work here for at least a couple more months in order to have enough to get her through the winter. Hopefully, Mason wouldn’t be staying long. She refused to let him catch her in a lie.

Want to read more? You can find His Saving Grace here.

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About The Author

Erin lives in the Pacific Northwest, with her trusty umbrella and the characters in her head (who are all clamoring to have their story told). Words have been an important part of her life ever since she received a manual typewriter for her tenth birthday and she used it to write her very first novel. She’d like to officially apologize to Beverly Cleary for essentially writing very bad Ramona fan fiction. In the past, she has written movie and television news and reviews for a number of popular websites but has chosen to currently focus on her fiction.

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