For Sam: A new-girl small town cowboy romance

Chapter 13 Sam

Talk about an exit.

Holy cow, my heart is still pounding.

I need to leave the window, he drove away a full minute ago, but I swear my brain and body are both trying to figure out what all happened. For a moment, I thought I misread everything and that my worst fears of having a chance with Tommy Landen were almost within my grasp and then torn away.

Well, being friend-zoned is definitely not at the top of my list, but I’d rather have that and clear boundaries than thinking he might feel the same and turn out to be completely wrong. The embarrassment alone would be enough to create an awkward rift that I’m sure would never be filled and I wouldn’t even have him as a friend.

Finally, I move to the couch and curl up against the spot that smells like him, the cedar lingered the most. I know that I must look like some love-sick puppy right about now, but I haven’t felt this comfortable with someone, so cared for, so loved. Not that he loves me or is even thinking too much about things, but he seems interested. I can’t remember the last time I was held like that.

Intrusive thoughts keep trying to, well, intrude, on my moments of bliss. Reminders of Brad, in particular.

Nope, we’re not going there.

And I’m sure Tommy is attentive in bed. He is in everything else he does. Maybe I’ll finally figure out how to have good sex.

A laugh bursts out of me at the absurdity of that thought.

But I sober quickly, now trying to not go down a rabbit hole for why I’ve never had an orgasm with anything, or anyone, inside of me. I’ve read enough to know that not everyone has the same g-spot sensations, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t tried to figure it out. And apparently I’m really good at faking it.

Why do I have a feeling Tommy isn’t going to be satisfied with me faking it? I’m both thrilled and terrified at that prospect.

Pulling out my phone, I go with my gut, for once, before I can overthink things.

Sam: I enjoyed our not-date. Cheers to the hot wings champion of the year!

Something about Tommy makes me feel brave, and I’m going to lean into that. I’m going to stop hiding.

Maybe not stopping altogether, old habits die hard and all…

But still, this fresh start in Greenstone might mean more than just doing what I love. It might mean a happier Samantha, too.

“Sam,” Hank calls out. “You’ve been working without moving for at least two hours. We can’t have you developing carpal tunnel anytime soon.”

Wrapping up the sentence in the email I’m replying to, I look up. Oof. The last time I looked at the clock on the wall was almost three hours ago.

“I guess I was in the zone,” I tell him.

“You’re easily the most efficient person we’ve ever had, but you need a break. Why don’t you take a long lunch and start now?”

Hank holds up one hand as my mouth opens to protest. “I insist. Until we get the budget approved, you’ll have blown through your entire year’s worth of duties by the end of this month, we have to spread things out and I won’t let you work ahead without getting compensated, Sam.”

My cheeks heat at the mention of how far ahead I am. I used to be paranoid about how much I was doing each hour and found when I hide the clock on my computer, I get in the zone so much better and my productivity almost doubled.

“Thanks, I’ll take you up on that and I’ll be back by noon.”

“Twelve-thirty, please.”

“Twelve-thirty, then.”

I’m already packing up my binders when Hank clears his throat.

“I’ll just take my binder for the co-op,” I tell him, setting two of the binders back on my desk.

“You do unplug after you leave for the day, right?” he asks, not for the first time.

“Of course, but if I don’t have something to take notes with and I get an idea, I fixate on it until I can write it down, so I promise my binders not only help me stay organized, but they really do help me unplug.”

He nods and says, “Good.”

“I’ll be back soon. Can I get you anything?” I ask.

“This is your lunch, Sam, not time to run errands for the office, but I appreciate it all the same.”

My tote is ready so I leave out the side door of our suite which takes me right to the parking lot. My sedan chirps as it unlocks and seeing that the sky is clear, I decide to see if the cafe has any tables open on their back patio.

As usual, there are only a few cars on the roads, especially since most people aren’t taking their lunch breaks yet, and there are a few spots open in front of the cafe. I park, grab my tote, and walk into the calm space. Sarah is at the counter, cleaning the espresso machine, when the bell above the door jingles.

“Sam, lovely to see you! I don’t think I have a group order that came through,” she says with a frown while unlocking her tablet.

“I’m just here for lunch, I have a longer break today.”

“Oh excellent,” she says, looking back up at me. “Would you like your regular?”

My heart warms. I have a regular order that the owner knows just like those born here in Greenstone.

“Yes, please. If there’s space, I’ll sit out back,” I say, smiling at her.

I pay and while Sarah pours me an iced coffee with a splash of oat milk, I look at the mural along the wall. Something about it draws my eye every time I’m here. Maybe one day I’ll meet the artist, Fiona.

“That sounds like a great plan with this weather, I’ll bring your food out when it’s ready.”

“Thank you so much,” I tell her, taking the coffee and weaving my way through a few tables, only seeing a few people seated, and they’re either on their phone or their device. The door to the patio is propped open and a soft breeze is coming through. I already feel the tension from work dissipating as I set my tote on a chair next to the table in the corner.

My watch vibrates.

Tommy: Can I pick you up for the meeting tonight?

I pull my phone out and start typing, my heart fluttering.

Sam: Of course. Can I pick up beverages this time?

Tommy: You can.

Tommy: Can I take you out for dinner on Thursday?

Tommy: To be perfectly transparent, I’m asking you on a date.

I couldn’t hide my smile if I wanted to.

Tommy Landen just asked me out on a date.