Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle (18 page)

He entered the house and strode through the darkened interior. In her room, he set her on her feet. She clung to him, sliding her arms around his back.

“Sam, let’s get you in bed.”

“Mmm.” She snuggled against his bare chest, kissing his flesh. She ran her hands over his back.

His mouth went dry.
Get a grip. She probably did the same thingto Tully a few minutes ago.
He pulled her arms away and reached behind him to flip on the lamp. Soft light flooded the room. He walked to the bed and pulled back the quilt. “In you go.” He took her hand, leading her to the bed.

The mattress sank as she sat, then she looked up at him slowly with a smile that fueled the fire under his skin. She tugged his hand, pulling him down beside her.

Her pupils were dilated, her eyelids half-closed. Her hair fell over one eye, and he brushed it back off her cheek.

She captured his hand against her face and turned, pressing a kiss into his palm, her eyes fastened on his.

Get out of here, Reed.

He made a move to stand, but she grabbed his shoulders. “Where you going?”

“Home.”

She lifted one eyebrow. “What for?” She pivoted to face him, one of her long legs swinging off the floor and across his lap. She straddled him, her knees planted on both sides of his thighs.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Stay, please?” Her eyes were like cruel pools of seduction, pulling at him relentlessly.

He felt her lips on his neck and swallowed.
Have mercy.
What was she doing to him?

“Sam.” He rasped her name. His hands found her waist and pushed back. He stood, lifting her with him, then lay her on the bed, tucking her legs under the quilt. He had to get out of there. Quick. “That’s enough, now,” he said.

She lay back against the pillow and stuck out her lower lip. With her hair billowed around her face, she looked like an angel. A very tempting angel.

He pulled the covers up to her chin.

She snuggled into the pillow, sighed softly, then closed her eyes. “Have it your way,” she mumbled.

She looked peaceful at last, lying there in her childhood bed under the same window she used to set her flashlight on. She was safe for tonight. He touched her flushed cheek with the backs of his fingers, drawing them downward. Her skin was like a dewy rose petal. So soft. So fragile. He would fight a hundred Tullys if necessary.

“Good night,” he whispered. Turning, he flipped off the lamp with a click.

Sam’s sleepy voice carried to him in the darkness. “I love you.”

Twenty

A
throbbing pain in Sam’s temples snatched her from sleep. She turned on the pillow and groaned, laying her hand across her forehead as her mind slogged to wakefulness. Her eyes opened, then she swiftly shut them. She choked back a word she forbade Caden to say.

Sam turned her head, shielding her eyes against the morning light, and saw an empty space beside her. Where was Caden? Her watch read 9:47.

Her daughter had spent the night at Amber’s. Right. The thought relieved her. She wouldn’t have to get up and make breakfast.

Then she remembered the letter Landon found in Emmett’s drawer. The memory of his kiss washed over her anew. He’d told her he loved her. She’d run then, gone to the tavern and gotten wasted. The headache. It all made sense now.

Tully.

She had a dreamlike memory of being at his house. He’d poured her a drink. His bed. She’d been in his bed. He’d pulled her T-shirt over her head and tossed it over his shoulder.

Oh no.
She put her hands over her face. What happened next? She didn’t remember taking off the rest of her clothes. She didn’t remember sleeping with him.

You probably didn’t do much sleeping at all, you idiot.

Sam groaned again and turned her head into her pillow. Did they even use birth control?
What have I done?

She tried to remember what happened after Tully removed her shirt.
Think, Sam!
But she couldn’t think at all with her brain beating against her skull. She dragged her feet from under the covers and sat up slowly, holding her head like it might fall off.

Her tongue was superglued to the roof of her mouth. How could she have been so stupid? She’d gone straight from Landon’s arms to Tully’s with only an alcohol binge in between.

You’d think you’d have learned this lesson a long time ago. Isn’tCaden reminder enough?

Sam’s shirt was wadded up around her waist, and she tugged it down, trying to gather the energy to go for painkillers.

She took another look at the blue T-shirt. It wasn’t hers. Its sleeves hung to her elbows, and the crewneck fell low on her chest. There was a gray paint stain on the hem.

Landon.

A flash fired in her mind. He’d been at Tully’s house. He’d—

Oh no.
He and Tully had fought. She remembered Landon flying across the room and something crashing to the floor. What if Landon . . . What if he was hurt?

She jumped to her feet. Her head spun.
Slow down, Sam. Whathappened next? What happened after that?
She stood still, her balance precarious. She remembered being in Landon’s arms. He’d carried her into the house.

Sam’s breath released audibly. He couldn’t have been hurt too badly if he brought her home. She didn’t remember the drive, but that was okay. Landon was all right, and she hadn’t slept with Tully. That’s what mattered.

Thank God.

She took careful steps, exiting her room. Where was her purse? Had she left it at Tully’s? The bar? She had to get something for this headache. She entered the living room and saw her bag lying by the front door as always. She remembered leaving it behind.

Sam fumbled for the bottle of Advil, then emptied three into her palm. After she washed them down with a glass of water, she went back to her room and lay on top of the covers. It hit her fresh that Landon had come to her rescue.

How had he known where she was? Had she called? It was hard to say what happened when she could only remember snippets.

She closed her eyes and pulled the T-shirt down over her stomach, wrestling with the excess material.

Her eyes popped open. She suddenly remembered Landon pulling the shirt over her head. She’d been in her bra when he came to Tully’s. Lying on the bed in her bra.

He’d seen her drunk and brainless. Half-naked. She cringed.

Maybe he’ll know now. Maybe he’ll realize what you are and leaveyou alone.

The thought brought little comfort. She was ashamed that she’d lost control. That she’d somehow dragged Landon into the middle of it. He’d gotten hurt trying to get her out of her foolish mess.

Like a flash of lightning, another memory struck. They were standing beside the bed. She was kissing his bare chest. Running her hands all over his back. He was pushing her away.

Oh no.

Sam remembered feeling bold and confident at the time, like she was Lolita or something. Now she just felt stupid.

What had happened next? She rubbed her temples, hoping for clarity but finding none. He’d put her in the bed. He’d sat beside her. Or had she pulled him down?

Had they talked? What else had she done?

Her legs were hot, and she kicked the quilt from under them, searching for the coolness of the sheet. With the movement came another recollection. Landon had been sitting on the bed. She swung her leg over him like some kind of whore. She tried to kiss him, but he lifted her off him and put her back in the bed.

She couldn’t remember what happened next. It was like a black hole. The harder she tried to remember, the quicker it slipped away. Humiliation filled her. She wanted to go to sleep and wake up in Boston. Far from this house, far from Landon, far from the disgrace of the night before.

Instead, she settled for the quick oblivion of sleep.

A knocking sound awakened Sam. She sprang up and felt the remnants of her hangover. The Advil had helped some, but not enough.

The knock sounded again. Someone was at the door. The clock read 10:56. Caden. Melanie was supposed to bring her home after breakfast. She ran her hand through her snarled hair, hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt.

Her feet covered the distance to the door quickly as she wiped her bleary eyes and tried to look like she hadn’t just rolled out of bed. She unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Landon stood on the porch with a mug of coffee. He hadn’t shaved yet, and stubble lined his jaw. She met his gaze, the night before too fresh in her mind. What did he think of her now? She could feel her cheeks heating at the memory.

“Brought you some coffee.” He held out the mug.

Sam took it and stared at the brew. Steam swirled upward, carrying the robust aroma to her nose. Her stomach lurched. “Thanks.” She set it down on the end table. Her hand was unsteady, and a bit of it sloshed over the side onto the fresh white surface.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “How are you feeling?”

She licked her parched lips. “Fine.” She had a new memory of them in his Jeep. Sam had been kissing his arm from his hand to his bicep. She closed her eyes, wishing he’d somehow disappear from her porch.

“I thought we could get mulch today. We could finish the beds.”

The word didn’t make her think of flowers, but of what she’d done the night before. She’d come close to repeating the same mistake she made the night of Landon’s going-away party. Only that night, she’d run from Landon to Bailey.

And Bailey had never come home.

Her head throbbed. “I’m not up to working today, okay?” She made a move to close the door. “Thanks for the coffee.”

He stopped the door with his hand. “What about the house?”

There was still work to be done, and her need to escape the island was greater now than ever. But she needed to finish alone. Landon’s presence did things to her. Things she couldn’t understand, much less explain. And she shouldn’t have to explain. Why couldn’t he just stay away? Stay out of her life and stop torturing her? No one else drove her to distraction like he did. If he hadn’t been here the night before, none of this would have happened.

“It’s my house, Landon. My problem.”

“I want to help.”

Sam looked him square in the eye. “I don’t want your help,” she said sharply. “I can finish on my own just fine.”

The corners of his mouth fell, and she noticed a cut on his lower lip. It occurred to her that she should thank him for rescuing her. But she was tired of him coming to her rescue. It was him she needed saving from, couldn’t he see that?

The light in his eyes dimmed. She ignored the prickle of guilt.

“Have it your way, Sam.” He let go of the door. “But at some point, we need to talk about last night.”

Just when she thought he was going to let it drop, there it was. He set it at her feet like a dog with a dead rabbit. Embarrassment and anger waged war. So she’d done something stupid. Did he have to rub her face in it? Was he going to shame her for getting drunk and going home with Tully? She was an adult. She wouldn’t let Landon shame her.

Sam remembered the moves she’d made on Landon and felt her limbs go hot. Okay, so she’d shamed herself. She crossed her arms, hugging herself.

“I was drunk,” she said. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”

He looked at her so incisively, she was afraid he could see everything she hid from him.

“That’s not the part we need to talk about,” he said softly.

The compassion on his face alerted her. She realized he was talking about everything that had come before. Before her shameless behavior, before Tully, before the whiskey. He was talking about the reason she’d fled from him to begin with. But she couldn’t talk to him about that. Didn’t even want to think about it. She wanted to get in a boat and go far away. Just like her mom had done all those years ago.

The thought smacked her with the force of a two-by-four, stealing her breath, and she wondered if she wasn’t so different from her mom after all.

Twenty-one

T
he warm water washed over Sam’s head and ran down her bare back. She wished all her troubles could flow so freely off her. She imagined her mom’s letter lying on Emmett’s bed the way it had the night before, just waiting to be opened. She didn’t know if she had the courage to do it. What if it showed she really never cared about Sam at all? It was one thing to suppose it, another to have it confirmed. She couldn’t deal with that right now.

She had known coming back here would be hard for all the obvious reasons. Stirring up her dad’s death, her mom’s abandonment, and Emmett’s ghost was bound to be painful. But she hadn’t banked on the even greater distress of facing Landon.

You’re almost done, Sam. Just hang in there another week and youcan go back to Boston and forget all about this place.

But she wondered if she would be able to forget Landon. She hadn’t forgotten him before. Not really. And he’d dug more deeply into her heart since she’d come back.

Sam finished her shower, and by the time she dried off and dressed, Caden was home and watching TV.