A Saltwater Christmas (The Southern Isles #1)

Chapter Sixteen

A llie woke up on the couch again, nestled into the dark blue of Sam’s warm comforter, smashed up against his side with her head on his chest and Cuppie curled at their feet. Light seeped through the glass of the large kitchen bay windows. She stayed where she was, knowing by the sun’s soft gentleness that it was still early. Sam’s breathing was peaceful, his body relaxed, his heartbeat untroubled. He’d been so tender last night. For a man of such toughness, he wasn’t pushy at all. Actually, he was the opposite. Where other men might be handsy, he was considerate. It wasn’t like he was practicing patience with her—it was more like he truly wanted whatever was best for her. No hurry. No regrets. He would wait until she was in love with him. Kissing and cuddling was enough. She intuitively knew it.

It was impossible to imagine being annoyed with Sam now. His extreme good looks were no longer intimidating, his strong presence no longer unwanted. Her feelings toward him had flipped like a coin. He was heads-up now, and she wanted him near, wished she could snuggle into his side all day long. But it was Monday. A workday. Her apologize-to-Joey day. And the three-year anniversary of the worst day of her life—the day that her dad died.

As soon as she stirred, Sam opened his eyes. “G’morning,” he said, kissing her tenderly above her right eyebrow. “Big day. How ya doing?”

“You remembered.” She sat up as he did, using his shoulder for lift.

“I’ll make us some coffee,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said. “I have to get ready for work.”

“You in a cereal mood? Feeling pancakey? Eggy?”

“Pancakey.” She leaned into him, groggy, her hair flat on one side. He immediately wrapped his arms around her. She thought back to his earlier question— how ya doing? She was doing astonishingly well. The waves of grief that she expected to overtake her were still out to sea. Calm and peaceful. “What are you doing today?” she asked.

“I’m on the schedule for noon. I guess I’ll see what dispatch has in store for us. It’s a busy time for ambulances.”

They’d gotten up early, so she had plenty of time to get ready. She showered, curled her hair, and even added foundation, eye shadow, and blush to her usual lip gloss and mascara routine. By the time she was finished, Sam had a pile of pancakes being kept warm on a plate in the oven, with his ear to his phone. “Yes, ma’am. I recommend taking her in to see a doctor. If there are white stripes in the back of her throat, it may be strep, in which case she’ll need an antibiotic.”

“You know what I think it is?” Allie could plainly hear Dottie’s gravelly voice on the other end of the phone. “Lovesickness.”

Sam laughed.

“You know she’s wantin’ to come over so you can take a look.”

“Send her on,” Sam said.

Allie loved the sound of his deep chuckle.

Dottie yelled at Tulip. “He said to go on over!”

Tulip was standing in their kitchen before Allie had a chance to eat one bite of pancake. She didn’t look sick at all, but she did look cute with her bowl haircut pulled up on either side with pink barrettes. She wore blue eyeshadow too.

“Aaahhh,” Tulip said as Sam shined a flashlight and looked in her throat.

“It doesn’t look like pharyngitis,” he said. “The tissues aren’t bright red.”

“It’s probably just allergies,” she said with not one speck of embarrassment. “Don’t tell Mama.”

“You going to school today?” he asked.

“No, it’s Christmas vacation.”

“Want some pancakes?”

She nodded again, this time with a sly smile and a twinkle in her eye. Clearly, her plan had worked. She was getting to spend time with Sam. “How do you like ’em?” he asked. “Well-done or gooey?”

He’d asked Allie the same thing. The well-done pancakes were in the oven, but the gooey ones were made to order. He’d made the batter extra-thick so they wouldn’t cook all the way through. Since Allie had never tried a gooey pancake before, that’s what she requested. It was like an underdone biscuit—perfect with loads of butter and a little something sweet. Tulip opted for the same.

“Look at me, teachin’ you girls how to eat,” Sam teased.

Allie ate every last bite of her breakfast and rinsed her plate and coffee cup. She considered kissing Sam goodbye but didn’t want to ruin Tulip’s teenaged swoonfest. “Bye,” she said as she grabbed her sensible satchel bag and headed toward the front door. “Have a good day.” She’d completely forgotten that her car wasn’t out front and that she’d asked Jessa to take her to work. Shoot. She pulled out her phone and texted Jessa. “Have you left yet? I forgot that my car’s not here.”

There was no answer. “Hey, Tulip?” Allie yelled. “Do you know if your sister is still home? I forgot that I need a ride to work.”

“I can take you,” Sam offered.

“She was home when I left,” Tulip answered, stuffing a syrupy bite of pancake into her mouth. “Call her.”

“I just texted, but she hasn’t answered.” Allie checked the time. She’d padded her departure with an extra ten minutes. Lateness was not something she allowed herself. She was always early, painfully so sometimes. She felt the jittery physical overflow of anxiety and tapped her fingers on her thigh, beginning with her pinky finger. Four-three-two-one, one-two-three-four. Text back, Jessa. Text back now.

Finally, just as her headache began, a chime sounded. “Almost there,” Jessa texted.

Allie exhaled. She wasn’t going to be late.

“You need a ride home, Tootie?” Sam asked. “It’s cold outside.”

“Can you take me to my friend’s house?” She smiled widely. It was clear that Tulip knew how to get what she wanted. “And can we bring Cuppie?”

Would Tulip ask him to walk her inside too? Few things would set more high school tongues to wagging than bringing a tall, handsome man and a wolf to her friend’s house. Knowing kids these days, there would certainly be photographic evidence of it too.

A car horn honked outside. “Okay, y’all,” Allie said. “That’s my ride!”

“Hey,” Sam said, catching up to her with a long-legged stride. “Come here.” He pulled her in for a hug. She had her purse in between them, so he gently took it from her, placing it on the console table by the door. Then he hugged her again. “It’s going to be a good day,” he said, speaking into her hair. “And if you need me, just text or call.”

She nodded, grateful that he was such a generous hugger. When he finally released her, Allie’s eyes went to Tulip, who had put her fork down and pushed her plate away in disgust. Allie almost apologized, but that would be silly. Instead, she went over and gave her a hug too. “My dad died three years ago today,” she said. “Sometimes we just need a hug.”

Tulip straightened up immediately. “I don’t have a dad.”

Allie was once again surprised at how casual Tulip was about her parentage. But that was Dottie, she supposed—the woman couldn’t keep hold of a secret if it was strapped like a belt to her waist. Whatever was in her head just slipped out as easily as ands and buts and you knows .

Jessa, on the other hand, probably knew everybody’s secrets and never said a word. She was like the human version of sunshine. The ride to work was filled with giggles and smiles. Allie barely had time to think about her dad’s death in between Jessa’s hilarious griping about being stuck with her mother, a gaggle of cats, and a starry-eyed little sister during the storm. It wasn’t until they pulled into the gravel parking lot of the Saltwater Winery that the weight of the dreaded day slammed down.

Joey was already at his desk. When Allie walked in, he spun around and stood.

“I got you a coffee,” he said. “And Fred was selling some fancy new cookies. Are these yours? They’re pretty good.” He handed her one of her own spiral cookies. “You’re not allergic to gluten, right? Rachel was, so I didn’t know.”

“I’m not. Thank you,” she said, noting that she’d been there less than one minute and he’d already mentioned his ex-girlfriend.

“Joey, I need to apologize to you for my behavior Friday night. I’m so embarrassed. I shouldn’t have had that much to drink.”

Instead of letting go, he took the coffee and cookie from her and placed them on her desk. Then he held both of her hands in his like he was about to make a vow. “I forgive you.” His voice was so saccharine and his eye contact so direct that it gave her the ick.

Forgive? She’d been drunk, not evil. “Thanks.” She had planned to say more, planned to actually use the words I’m sorry , but not anymore. And what was that smell? He must’ve doused himself in cologne. Being stuck in their tiny shared office with him all day was going to be nauseating. She squeezed his hands sweetly before pulling hers from his grasp. Then she sat in her chair and spun away.

A few hours into her workday, an email from Duke came through announcing that the winery would be closing early and everyone outside of guest relations could have the rest of the day off. Several employees had already taken the week off, and the whole place would be closed until Friday, so a little extra free time was welcome.

Joey spun around. “Wanna go to lunch? I still owe you a trip to Charleston.”

Allie had to think quickly. “I’m so sorry. I have some last-minute shopping I need to get done.” As soon as it came out of her mouth, it felt true. It wasn’t too late. What if Sam had a gift for her and she didn’t have one for him? That wasn’t celebrating Christmas, that was just avoiding a potentially embarrassing situation. Gifts could be given at any time for any reason.

Joey looked disappointed, but he pushed ahead. “Do you have plans for Christmas Eve?” he asked. “My family has a big traditional supper if you want to join us.”

Join his family? On Christmas Eve? The truth was, she had absolutely no plans for Christmas Eve. “I was planning to just relax this year.”

“Come on, Rach—” His eyes went wide. “Allie. You can’t do that. That’s depressing. You’re coming with me.”

She hated when people told her what to do. “No, really. I’m just going to hang out at home.”

“Absolutely not,” he said. “I’m not going to let you sit at home when my family is making more food than we can eat. I’ll pick you up at noon.”

She decided to agree now and cancel by text later. “Great. Thanks.” She internally cringed. One drunken night was wreaking havoc on her life.