Do you wake up and look forward to the day?
She frowned. Sometimes. Not always. But sometimes. And she’d worked very hard to get to this point… to be more than Sami Jo.
The string of jingle bells on the door tinkled again as she boxed up the red markers.
“You forget something, Ted?” She glanced up.
Glanced up and her gaze collided right with Tanner’s.
Her traitor of a heart thunked in her chest and she couldn’t help the smile that kissed the edges of her mouth. Tanner walking through the door felt like that wave of relief was supposed to feel. But this time, she genuinely experienced it.
Which was why this had to stop.
Chapter Six
TANNER
Luck was notan asshole today because Sam stood at the front counter with a crap load of markers tossed into piles. She sorted them by color. Presently she worked on the reds, burgundies, and pinks.
“Hey,” he said, pulling the door closed behind him so the bells didn’t clink so loud to alert Babushka and her crew that someone had arrived. They’d figure it was him. He didn’t know why or how they’d figure it, but they would.
Sam glanced up. A little smile hit her lips, and she paused. He adored the smile. Felt like it was for him and only him.
Then she seemed to realize she was smiling athimand a startled shock hit her expression. Hard blinking.
His cheeks started to get warm.
One thing about Sam, she wore her feelings where everyone could see them. Didn’t even seem to put on a mask or pretend to be a bass player so she could communicate.
Just be Linx.
“I feel like we didn’t get the chance to connect yesterday.” He stepped up to the edge of the welcome desk, leaning his arm there so he wasn’t in her space but not standing oddly at the door.
She set the markers aside. “I know. It was nuts.”
“Sometimes the craziest things are the best ones,” he countered, forcing himself to ignore the burning in his cheeks and the way his tongue felt heavy.
He was pretty certain she wanted to smile with the way her lips twitched at the edges, but she stopped herself.
“I don’t know.” Her lips parted the slightest bit. She sighed. “The whole puppet thing was a little bizarre.”
The tip of her tongue traced the seam of her lips and his nerves all buzzed with anticipation. He wanted to know how she tasted. Know how she felt in his arms. He’d bet she tasted like gumdrops and felt like heaven.
Then she lifted a pencil to the sharpener—the old school kind that mounted on the edge of the desk and had a crank to turn the barrels.
“That’s why I came back—”
She turned the crank, and the crunching of wood and lead interrupted his words.
“Sorry,” she said, pulling the pencil from the hole. “It’s pencil sharpening day.”
Sam was nervous. Her hands a little shaky.
He should be the nervous one. She was the one all put together with that tug that made his body want to be near hers.
“No worries, I was only going to ask—”
She started another pencil. Studying the crank handle as she worked.
