Page 57 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

Sam tapped his fingers on the counter, listing all the ways. “She doesn’t wanna date me. She doesn’t wanna get married. She wants nothing from me except what she already got from me.”

“Oh, and what did she get from you?” Ricki sang.

Sam shot her a dry look. “Grow up.”

“Damn, she’s really got you on the hook, huh?” Ricki studied him for the first time seriously, as if she couldn’t believe they were really having this conversation. “And you’re ready to get down on one knee and propose to this girl after she’s been back in town for a minute?”

“No, I’m not saying that. We had dinner the other night, and I thought things were going well, but afterward she snuck out, and I woke up alone.” Man, he sounded like a whiny sad sack, and Ricki was having none of it.

“Oh, so you got a little bit of the shoe on the other foot, and you’re butt hurt about it?” Ricki asked.

“Can you please stop dragging me for my past behavior?” he grumbled, taking a gulp of his drink. “I know I’ve been a jerk, but I’ve been an honest jerk. I have never lied to a woman about what I wanted. If they thought that I would change my mind, that’s on them.”

Ricki held up her hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, it sounds like this girl is doing the same thing to you, and it bugs the crap out of you.”

“Only because I want more with her.” Sam stiffened in surprise at the admission, realizing that Wren had gotten completely under his skin in just a few days. Whether it was their history or the fact he was in a vulnerable place, he couldn’t be sure, but dang, he was really exposing himself here.

“Well, I’m sure there were dozens of women who wanted more with you over the years. If you want her bad enough, you can play the long game and see if things change. Or, if you don’t have the patience, you can set your sights on someone who wants the same things you do.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” he mumbled.

Ricki smiled. “Sounds like you have your answer, then.”

“What if she wants to see other people?” The thought of Wren with anyone else made him want to throw up and punch something at the same time.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my friend Sam?”

Sam glared at her.

“Alright, I’ll stop teasing. It’s like I’ve been telling you for years. If a woman is satisfied by what she’s getting, she doesn’t go looking for anything else. Even if you guys are just friends with benefits, as long as she is sated and elated, you’re good.”

“I am pretty good at what I do,” Sam said, grinning salaciously.

“I remember,” Ricki said, her eyes dancing with humor. “Now pull your britches up and stop acting like this sad sack of a man I don’t even recognize.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

Chapter Seventeen

Wren walked through the door of her father’s cabin on Sunday at twenty-one minutes to noon with Duke on her heels and her nephew thrown over her shoulder. She dropped a squirming Lukas on the floor, but instead of staying on his feet, he flopped on the rug.

“Again!” he begged, reaching for her.

“Not until I’ve eaten something. I’m starving.”

Lukas pouted by accepting her reasoning, running off to jump on his uncle Pete. Her dad gave her a nod, while her brothers barely glanced up from their plates of food. The TV blared with the voices of two sports announcers arguing over the projected outcome of the day’s game.

It was like every Sunday was Groundhog Day, and she repeated the same experience, no matter what she did differently.

“I’m early this time, and you still couldn’t wait,” she called out.

Her father waved at her. “Help yourself to some food, Wren, and stop yammering. We’re listening to this.”

Wren rolled her eyes but grabbed a plate, filling it with food. Although it would have been nice to sit around a table like a family, that would also mean talking to everyone, which would lead to her brothers opening their big mouths about who she’d been seeing, if they hadn’t already. Not that her dad would care at this point. She was grown and had no plans to settle down, least of all with Sam Griffin.

When Wren noticed her sister-in-law hovering next to her, she looked up at Elizabeth and asked, “Did you get to eat?”

“Oh yeah, the guys let me go first, but I haven’t been very hungry lately.” Elizabeth rubbed her swollen belly, appearing tired and elated at the same time. “Once you get into that final trimester, your uterus kind of smashes your stomach and curbs your appetite.”