Chapter One
Sam
Spending three days cleaning her entire house from top to bottom wasn’t Samantha Fleming’s first choice for weekend fun, but she’d already put it off for too long and now she was down to the wire. There was no way she was letting her son’s best friend step foot in her home without scrubbing it within an inch of its life.
Not that Dylan would care. For starters, he’d lived with Ethan and nobody knew better than Samantha how her son’s room looked on a good day. But even if he hadn’t spent four years immersed in Ethan’s chaos, Dylan was far too polite and well-mannered to comment.
None of that mattered, though.Shewould know the house wasn’t the cleanest it could be and she would care, and it would keep her up at night until Dylan moved on. And since he was coming to stay with her for pretty much the entire summer while he worked an internship in Atlanta, she couldn’t really afford the sleepless nights.
So, here she was, unwashed hair piled into a messy bun on top of her head, dressed for the task in her old Georgia StateT-shirt and a pair of sweatpants she’d found on clearance last Christmas. Taylor Swift was belting out her latest heartbreak from the bluetooth speaker Ethan had given Sam for her birthday while she scrubbed at the shower tiles in her guest bathroom.
It was exhausting, dirty work, but something about the process always seemed to calm her. As if every pass of the sponge across the tiles was scrubbing away all the little annoyances and stresses of the week, so that by the time her house was clean, so was her heart and mind. Even though she hated the physical act of cleaning, the results were well worth it.
With the bathroom done and sparkling, and with a stack of fresh towels and at least a month’s worth of toilet paper stashed in the linen closet, she moved on to the final room of the house.
Technically, she didn’tneedto clean this room. Since it stayed locked and she was the only one with a key, she didn’t have to worry about anyone accidentally wandering in. So if she wanted to keep it messy and disorganized, she could and nobody would ever know. Her own son didn’t even have any idea what lay beyond the locked door of his mother’s “office”.
God bless him for being far more curious about the inner workings of the human body than his mother’s business.
But it was this room, more than any other, that renewed her soul. So even though she didn’tneedto, she unlocked the door, her heart beating faster with every movement forward as she stepped inside.
And slid straight into that younger, more carefree headspace she only allowed herself to explore when she was completely alone. Rushing forward, she scooped the giant stuffed bear up off the bed and into her arms with a happy squeal.
“Mr. Snuffles! I missed you!”
The bear was nearly as tall as she was, which wasn’t hard since she had to stand as straight as possible and stretch herneck a little to even hit the five-two marker when she went to the doctor. Ethan had won the bear for her at the state fair nearly ten years ago. It had cost her over fifty dollars’ worth of game tickets, but he’d been determined to win it after she’d accidentally let her excitement over the giant stuffed toy slip out in front of him.
As far as she knew, her son had never guessed her secret. He just knew his mama loved stuffed animals and when he’d been younger, they’d spent hours together coloring and building Legos. And as far as she was concerned, that was all he needed to know.
Falling back on the bed, she snuggled up with her best friend and filled him in on what was happening. “You remember Dylan, right? Ethan’s friend from college? Well, apparently he landed an internship at some fancy research place in Atlanta, so he’ll be staying with us for a while. Ethan says we probably won’t even notice him, because he’ll be working so much.”
Not that Sam really believed that. Despite being nearly seventeen years younger than her, Dylan had a presence about him that was difficult to ignore. His easy confidence and charm would have had her melting into a puddle at his feet if she’d been even a little bit younger. But no twenty-something college kid was going to look twice at a middle-aged divorcée.
Especially one with her… unconventional needs.
Pushing aside the twinge of sadness, she picked up her conversation with Mr. Snuffles and pretty soon he’d talked her into a tea party with all the other stuffed animals she’d been neglecting the past few weeks. It had been far too long since she’d really let loose and indulged her Little side.
Nearly two hours and several imaginary pots of tea later, a loud banging on the front door jolted her back to reality. Horrified, she looked around at the mess she’d created, the piles of toys everywhere, and down at the rags she was still wearing.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Jumping off the bed, she raced over to the gilded full-length mirror in the corner of the room and groaned at the picture she made.
It wasn’t like she wanted to greet him in a cocktail dress and a full face of makeup, but it would have been nice to at least not look like a complete slob when he showed up. But she’d lost track of time, which was nothing unusual when she really let herself get lost in her Little space, and now she just had to suck it up.
“Bye, Mr. Snuffles. I’ll be back as soon as the coast is clear!” With a final wave to her friends, she closed the door behind her and locked it.
Another, more insistent knock had her racing to the front of the house. She gave herself a second to take a deep breath, so maybe she wouldn’t make a complete idiot of herself when she finally opened the front door.
Jesus Christ playing hopscotch, had he always been that handsome? It had been over a year since she’d actually seen him in person, but she was pretty sure he’d filled out a bit. Okay, alot. His normally slender build had layers of muscles packed onto it she was absolutely certain hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him. Pale hazel eyes sparkled at her from beneath dark brows, and it looked like someone had taken a chisel to his jawline.
It was going to be a long fucking summer.
“Hey, Mrs. Fleming.” The corner of her new roommate’s mouth kicked up in an easy smile, and a dimple winked at her. “Ready for the invasion?”
His teasing tone calmed some of the nerves jumping in her stomach and she grinned in response. “Come on in. I’ve got dinner in the crockpot, and it should be ready in about an hour. Unless you’ve got a hot date lined up already.”
Ugh, hopefully that didn’t sound as needy and pathetic to him as it had to her.
Stopping just past her inside the entryway, Dylan turned and gave her a look she might have called possessive from a man her own age. “The hottest. What’s for dinner?”
