His hand shifted at the small of her back.
Heat flared from the epicenter of his touch. She sucked in a breath. Her words died in her throat. She grappled for them. But it seemed there were no words to replace them.
What were words again?
Awareness crackled between them. She kept finding herself in his arms, even if accidentally this time. But there was nothing accidental about the way his gaze raked over her face. Or the way his hand pressed her closer.
Her breath caught. Her gaze fell to his lips. It wasn’t the first time she’d wondered what they’d taste like. Or pondered how he would kiss her—softly or firmly or reverently or masterfully. She’d place her money on the last one.
Her heart knocked against her rib cage. Noisily. Insistently.
Oh, never mind—someone was at the door.
Sam’s gaze followed the sound. His hands fell to his sides.
She blinked and stepped away. “I, uh, should let you get that.”
Rio had apparently slipped through the adjoining doors as she was currently at the entry door, barking her head off.
Sadie rushed over and picked her up. With the dog quivering in her arms, she headed back toward her room. “It’s okay, sweetheart. There’s nothing to get excited about.”
Except that Sam had almost kissed her.
Hadn’t he? She glanced over her shoulder.
He seemed perfectly collected as he told her good night and closed the door between them.
***
Once the connecting door was shut, Sam leaned against it and composed himself.What the heck wasthat,Ford? You’ve hardly figured out how you feel about Amanda, and you’re putting the moves on Sadie?
He ran a hand over his flushed face. Because, yes, that’s exactly what he’d been about to do. So much for being unprepared to trust another woman, for avoiding a relationship with someone who lived all the way in New York. She was just so darned tempting with her pretty eyes and sweet scent. Even her clumsiness was adorable. He banged his head against the door.
Another knock sounded. He pushed himself upright and answered the door. Troy was on the other side of the threshold, duffel bag in hand. “Hey, Cuz, can I stay with you?”
Sam opened the door wider. “Sure, come on in. Did you figure out Brendan snores like a freight train? Why do you think no one else wanted to be his roommate?”
Troy dropped his bag on the unclaimed bed. “He’s sick. He barfed right after supper.”
“What?” Tag’s brother hadn’t joined them for s’mores, but Sam figured he was just tired from the travel.
“He said he’d been feeling a little queasy all day, but he thought he was just car sick. Then he remembered his coworker came down with the stomach flu a couple days ago. And now Troy’s got a fever—at least that’s what Aunt Georgia said.”
“That’s not good. Does Tag know?”
“What do you think?”
Besides being a retired RN, their great-aunt was also queen of the family grapevine. “Good point.”
“Aunt Georgia’s staying with Brendan tonight—whether he wants her to or not. I, for one, couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I hope Tag and Amanda don’t get whatever he’s got, because it’s not pretty up in room 321.”
Sam felt awful for Brendan—and for Tag and Amanda. Since Brendan was the best man, this illness would disrupt the wedding.
The thought lingered as Troy got ready for bed. If the couple’s relationship had developed in any other way, Sam would’ve been in Tag’s wedding party—if not his best man.
As it was, Tag had never put him in the position of having to say no. And Sam would’ve done just that.
But now, all these months later, he no longer felt so adamant about that. Seeing Amanda again hadn’t been the torture he’d expected. Not even close. When Tag’s father had toasted the couple tonight, Sam had caught the intimate glances between Tag and Amanda.
