Chapter Ten
S am returned from the kitchen carrying several plates, balancing them like a circus performer. He’d grilled steaks, made garlic mashed potatoes and green beans, and cut up warm, buttered French bread, all to impress the beautiful woman watching him with expressive brown eyes and a wry smile.
His body still pulsed with the chemistry between them. The rush of heat being pressed against Wren lingered like an imprint on his body. While he hadn’t reacted well to her calling him a fuckboy, Sam recognized that hitch in her breathing as he leaned over her, the dazed look in her eyes as she stared at his mouth. She still felt it, too, but was holding back.
It turned out Wren had erected some walls of her own.
Wren clapped for him as he set each dish down. “Very impressive. Where did you pick up that skill?”
“Which one?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows and lowering his voice suggestively. “I have so many.”
Wren rolled her eyes. “Where did you learn how to carry plates like that?”
“Oh that,” he teased, setting the steak plate down last. “When I moved to Oregon, I didn’t have much to recommend me to most employers, but I got two jobs waiting tables in restaurants right off the bat. I learned how to do some fancy juggling...after a lot of broken plates and docked paychecks.”
Wren laughed. “They didn’t just fire you?”
“Hell no.” Sam gave her his best smolder, pursing his lips and raising one eyebrow. “I was too pretty to get fired.”
She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat.
“What? You don’t think so?”
“Oh, no. You’re definitely pretty, but I don’t know how you walk around upright with that big head of yours.”
“It’s called confidence.” Sam pouted as he took a seat across from her at the square kitchen table. He reached across for her plate. “Here.”
“I can serve myself,” she murmured, but at his insistent hand motion, she passed him her plate, watching him take a bit of everything and fill it up with way more food than she could possibly eat.
Her stomach growled, as if to argue, Are you kidding me? Bring it on!
“Thank you,” she said, taking it from him and setting it down in front of her, admiring the little details like the dollop of butter on the steak. “It smells amazing.”
“I’ll be expecting that apology once you’ve had a taste.”
“Hmm, I would take a bite, but we seem to be missing something important from the table,” Wren said, glancing down and back up again with a sly grin.
Sam realized he’d forgotten the silverware in his rush to make everything else perfect. “Whoops! I’ll be right back.”
As he got up from the table, Sam shook out his hand and took a deep breath. Man, he was nervous around her, which was ridiculous. He wasn’t nervous around women, especially women he’d had previous relations with, but there was something about being in the same room with Wren, alone and aware of her subtle perfume, the way her makeup made her doe eyes wider. Her glossy red lips were lush and tempting him to kiss her, to find out if it was still as electrifying between them as when they were kids.
Sam laughed, dancing back into the dining room. “You’re telling me you didn’t want to eat with your hands?”
“Not particularly!”
“Alright, I got you covered.” Sam set down the two forks and two steak knives he’d grabbed from the kitchen. He danced his way over to her, holding out her utensils with a flourish. “At your service.”
“Thank you.”
Sam watched Wren delicately cut her steak into small pieces, keeping it separated from the sides on her plate. When she slipped it between her lip and let out a little moan, Sam’s cock twitched below the surface of his jeans.
She swallowed, opening her eyes and shooting him a blissful smile. “I apologize. You are quite the chef.”
“Thank you. I used one of those food services that sends all the ingredients, and then I just have to prepare it.”
Wren’s eyes narrowed. “I feel like that’s cheating.”
Sam laughed. “How? It’s just following a recipe.”
“I don’t know, but part of cooking is actually going to the store and selecting the ingredients, picking out the menu, not being spoon-fed everything by an online program.”
“Tomato, tomahto,” he said, pointing to his chest with his fork. “I cooked it.” He pointed at her with his knife. “You liked it.” Finally, he grinned at her, ignoring her sardonic expression. “Apology accepted.”
“Mmm,” she said, taking another bite of her steak, “you’re lucky this is really good, or I’d throw some potatoes at you.”
“Thanks for the restraint,” he said, digging into his meal.
They sat in silence for a few beats, the sound of utensils and chewing the only noise, and finally, Sam asked, “You mentioned that you’d gained new experiences since you left home?”
Wren paused with her fork poised a few inches from her mouth and arched one of her dark brows. “Is this your version of polite dinner conversation? Asking how many men I’ve slept with?”
“Not what I asked,” he said dryly. “I wanted to know about your new experiences. They don’t have to be sexual.”
“But you’re not going to be upset if they are?” she teased.
“Well, you did insinuate.”
Wren’s eyes sparkled, and he almost cursed himself. She probably thought he was jealous or something.
“And you’ve been dwelling on it, huh?”
“Only because I want to know everything about you. Who you are now, I mean.” Sam suddenly pushed back from the table, asking, “Do you want some wine? I feel like we may need wine for this conversation.”
“I’ll take water,” she said, grinning at him. Was she getting a kick out of how discombobulated he was?
Sam got up from the table and filled two glasses with ice water, wondering why he was so jumpy. Wren was an old friend over for dinner, not a date.
Maybe that’s what was off. If this was just a hookup, he’d already have his next move planned. They’d finish dinner, and after a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up, they’d move to the sofa. From there, it would just naturally progress to sex.
With Wren, he hadn’t been thinking about getting her into bed when he’d offered to make her dinner, but about catching up. Finding out who she was now. It was different than their first go-round, when he’d asked her out for burgers and they’d ended up making out by the lake. They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other, just two horny teens letting their libidos run the show.
There had been more though. So much more. When Wren’s best friend had rolled her truck and needed to be LifeFlighted to Boise, he’d held her all night while she cried as they waited for news. When he’d thought, for just a moment, that college might be for him, she’d been there to open his rejection letter. He’d brushed it off like he didn’t care, but she’d railed against the school and what a bunch of idiots they were. Sam remembered smiling so hard his face hurt until he pulled her down into his arms and told her he loved her for the very first time.
Then tonight, as he’d leaned over her in the hallway, watching her pulse jump in her throat and the way her eyes locked on his mouth, that rush of need hit him like a ton of bricks.
“Are you okay in there?” she called.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” What was going on with him? Why was he hung up on whether what he had with Wren in high school was real?
Maybe because of the handful of women I’ve lasted longer than a night with, she is the only one I never stopped thinking about? And having her in my home is bringing up all kinds of unresolved emotions?
Sam carried the glasses back to the table, tamping down the tiny voice in his head.
He settled in across from her and set her glass of water to the left of her plate. “There you go,” he said.
“Thank you.” She took a drink of her water and set it down with a smile. “Back to my experiences...” She tapped a finger against her mouth and shrugged. “There’s been a lot. I’ve worked in five major cities, and I’ve been punched, kicked, stabbed once, and I got a bullet in the butt during my last job in Sacramento.”
“Pause,” he coughed, having inhaled a mouthful of wine when she’d gotten to bullet in the butt .
“Sorry, I know,” she said, smirking, “that last one catches everyone by surprise.”
“How did that happen?” he wheezed, still trying to get his coughing under control.
“My partner and I responded to a robbery in progress, and while I was chasing the first suspect, I missed the second guy. He had a gun and caught me in the left butt cheek as I was hopping a fence after his buddy.” The way she relayed it, her tone a mix of cheerful humor and anger, made her voice thick, almost trembling. “My partner managed to tackle him, and another uniform grabbed my guy around the corner. I don’t know which hurt more, the bullet or hitting the sidewalk below.”
“Damn. I’m so sorry,” he murmured, trying to put himself in her shoes.
She shrugged, taking another drink and setting it down. “It took me a while to heal, and when I did, I froze the first day back. There were horns blaring and people talking everywhere, and I couldn’t handle it. That night, I decided that I didn’t want to work in the city anymore. I wanted a quiet beat and to live in a place where the crime rate wasn’t insane.” She smiled a little too brightly and added, “Now, I’m here.”
“Sounds like you have been through a lot and deserve a little peace.”
“You aren’t kidding. What about you?” she asked, her expression shifting to flirtatious. “Any experiences you want to share?”
Sam chuckled at her singsong tone. “Like I told you, I was living in Oregon. I’d worked my way into a spot at a local tattoo parlor, and my boss and I had a great relationship.” His jaw muscles tightened when he thought about what he’d lost. “I trusted him, and turns out I made a mistake. So, I came back here, where I get to be with my brother and my nephew, and it’s great for the most part.”
“Do you ever miss Oregon?”
“Sometimes,” he said, thinking about the music and art scene where he’d spent most of his weekend nights during his twenties. “There’s not a lot to do in Mistletoe except hit one of the two bars in town. But here, at least I have family. Clark and Jace, plus the Winters, who have become a surrogate family to me. I have fun messing with Chris and teasing Victoria. They welcomed me into their home. I can never repay that.”
Wren took another bite from her plate before responding, “I think that’s sweet. I’ve always liked the Winters. They’re good people.”
“Yeah, they are. The Winters even threw me a surprise birthday party a couple of years ago. They’re a lot warmer than my parents ever were,” Sam said bitterly, thinking about the time they’d left on a trip the week before his birthday and hadn’t come back until four days after. They hadn’t even called him to wish him a happy birthday. For some people, that wouldn’t have been a big deal, but it was just further proof to Sam that he and Clark didn’t matter to them.
“I remember.” Wren reached across for his hand and squeezed. “One of my favorite memories is of you, me, and Clark going camping for the weekend to celebrate your birthday and my brothers crashing our bonfire. You were so freaked out at first, but it ended up being a blast.”
“Says you!” Sam protested, setting his fork down to cover his heart. “Every time I glanced their way, they would send me threatening gestures. I figured I was going to wake up being dragged into the lake!”
Wren snorted. “My brothers could be overbearing and controlling like my dad, but they warmed up to you, and the point is, you had a great birthday despite your parents being jerks.”
“How did you manage to escape after graduation? I expected to find you off in a tower somewhere, being guarded by a dragon.”
She shook her head, taking his joking in stride. “Nothing that dramatic. The day after graduation, I just left.” She paused briefly, swallowing as if it were painful to talk about. “That last year was pretty strained as it was.”
“Because of us?” Sam murmured.
Wren sat solemnly for a few moments without answering, playing with her potatoes. “Partially, but it went both ways. We were like passing ships, barely communicating except to give each other our coordinates.”
“That sounds . . . fun,” he said.
She shrugged. “It was better than screaming at each other and throwing accusations. When I got a scholarship and left the state to go to college in Arizona, my dad didn’t say much about it. When I graduated from Arizona State, I got a job on the police force, and I stayed there for a few years, but it was too hot for me.”
Sam could imagine, having been to Vegas a time or two. “That was one nice thing about the Oregon coast. The weather was usually amazing.”
Wren laughed. “Why didn’t I ever check the climate of a city before I moved there?” She smacked her forehead playfully. “Stupid.”
Sam chuckled. “Where did you go after Arizona?”
“Houston. That was fun. Lots of great bars and music places. Still hot though.” Wren paused, taking another bite of her food. “After that, I just kept moving any time I got antsy, until I guess I just decided there was nowhere else I wanted to be but back in Mistletoe.”
“Well, I’m sure your dad is glad you’re back.”
“I think so, but he’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy type.” Wren placed her forearm on the table, cradling her face in her palm, and fluttered her lashes at him. “So, what new experiences have you discovered?”
Sam chuckled. “I thought we were gonna talk about yours first.”
“Oh no, I figure if you’re curious about mine, then you should give me some dirt first. Gotta give it to get it!” She picked up her fork and pointed it at him. “Plus, I get the chance to maybe finish my food.”
“Ah, I guess I can hang with that.”
She lifted her face off her hand and waved it as if to say Get on with it , and he decided to give her the biggest, juiciest experience he’d ever had. “Fine, we’ll just dive into the time I learned that pegging was not something I was into.”
Wren dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter, potatoes flying as laughter bubbled out of her. “Holy hell! How did that even come about? Were you dating someone, and things escalated to that point?”
“Haven’t you heard I don’t date?” he joked. “No, she was a pretty girl I met in a bar and had a few drinks with. She asked me to go back to her place, and then we were fooling around in bed. The clothes came off, and she reached into the drawer of the nightstand, and I thought, ‘Oh great, she’s got a condom; she’s prepared,’ but nope, she pulled out this belt and gave me this eerie smile as she asked, ‘Have you ever been pegged before?’”
“Oh my God, she just said it like that? And you agreed, like, ‘I’m gonna let a stranger put something foreign in my butt?’”
Sam shrugged. “I am an adventurous guy, and I’m willing to try everything once, but yeah, I learned that that was not my thing. Plus, I think she pulled the old switcheroo when I said to use the small purple one.”
“What were your other choices?” she asked, voice shaking with mirth.
“Mama Bear, which was this pink one that was about six inches, and Big Daddy, which was as big as it was round.”
“Noted. No ass play for Sam.”
“Your turn,” he said before putting a slice of steak in his mouth.
“I learned that you can make a man pass out by sitting on his face,” she deadpanned.
Sam’s eyes widened, and he slammed his fist into his chest when a piece of steak got caught in his throat. Wren got up and went around, banging on his back. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he croaked, the steak flying back out onto his plate.
“Gross,” Wren laughed.
“Maybe you shouldn’t share that kind of stuff after I’ve put something in my mouth. Just to make sure I’m safe from unexpected choking hazards.”
“Should I not finish the story then?” she asked, taking a bite of potatoes.
“No, I’m invested now.” While he didn’t relish hearing about her with other men, this sounded too good to pass up. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”
“Obviously not since I’m sitting across from you and not in jail on a manslaughter charge,” she said, smirking, “but he was a scrawny guy, who swore he wanted me to sit on his face. And when I did, he apparently hadn’t taken into account how thick my thighs were and couldn’t breathe. But his tongue kept doing this incredible thing, and I didn’t realize when he was gripping my thighs, he was screaming for help.”
Sam guffawed, his eyes watering. He wiped at them, trying to get his laughter under control. “Holy shit, that is crazy. When did you realize he was in danger?”
“Um, after I orgasmed, I realized his tongue had stopped moving.”
“Jesus, you’re a regular manslayer.” Maybe it was cockiness on his part, but Sam was positive he could handle Wren sitting on his face. In fact, he’d love the fuck out of it.
“At least you got yours, right?” Sam asked.
“He got his, too, eventually”—the mischievous look in Wren’s eyes captivated him—“but it took him a moment to recover.”
“Alright, I think that’s all I want to hear on that subject.” Although the story was funny, the fact that another man had gotten his rocks off with Wren left a nasty taste in his mouth. He set his fork aside, done with his dinner.
“Oh, come on,” she cajoled playfully, “you’re Mistletoe’s Casanova. I’m sure you’ve got some more great stories to tell.”
“Not compared to attempted homicide,” Sam said, wanting to shift the topic to something less titillating, especially on Wren’s end. Thinking about her naked and writhing on top of him, his tongue tasting her pussy was creating an issue, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand up. “Most of my stories are boring.”
“So? I still want to hear them.”
“Fine.” Sam sighed, pulling out one of his least favorite stories, but maybe Wren would get a kick out of it. “I’ll tell you about the time I was handcuffed and left in a woman’s apartment until I was able to get Siri to call Clark to come rescue me.”
Wren slapped a hand over her mouth, her question coming out muffled. “Why did she kidnap you?”
“We’d been hot and heavy for a few weeks, but the relationship had run its course. I told her it was time to call it. She seemed fine, even said we should get together one last time—”
Wren dropped her hand, revealing her mouth twisted in disgust. “And you, being a man, thinking with your dick, thought, “‘Oh yeah, this is gonna be great?’ ”
“Whoa, no need to be judgy, Miss Waited Until She Came Before Checking on Her Partner.”
“Valid point, continue,” she said magnanimously.
“Anyway, I fell for it, and it didn’t end well for me.”
“It could have ended worse. She could have hobbled you.”
Sam reeled back in horror. “Jesus, that’s dark.”
“It’s Misery . The book by Stephen King.”
Sam shook his head. “Never read it. Your turn.”
“Another funny sex story? Hmmm, have you heard of Badge Bunnies?”
“No?” Sam noticed her plate had been pushed aside, her attention completely focused on their conversation topic. Should he be scared she seemed to be soaking in all these sexual misadventures with gusto?
“It’s usually women chasing male police officers, but I was lucky enough to meet a dude who loved female cops. I didn’t realize this at first and thought he actually liked me. The first time we’re about to have sex, he wanted me to wear my uniform while I’m going down on him, and I said, ‘Okay, fine, whatever.’ Then he starts talking all this shit, like, ‘Oh, you’re not so tough when you’re on your knees, baby.’”
Fury shot through Sam like a torpedo, sending shock waves through his nerve endings. “What the fuck?”
“Oh yeah. It got worse, so I stopped and said, ‘What did you just say?’ He spluttered and stammered, saying it was all role-play, but by then I was pissed.”
Sam realized his hands were so tightly fisted, his nails were digging into his palms. “I hope you left him hurting.”
“Not quite. Instead of leaving him with the worst set of blue balls, I decided to let him finish. The minute he got close, I pushed his dick up, and he got a face full of his own come.” Wren shook her head, chuckling. “I got up while he was still cleaning gunk out of his eyes, told him I never wanted to see him again, and left.”
Sam sat back in complete awe, his fists relaxing. “You’re tougher than me. I would have decked his ass first.”
“No way. I’m not losing my job over some insecure douche with small-dick syndrome.” She scoffed before adding, “Your turn.”
“I gotta say, I don’t have any stories like that in my repertoire.” Sam racked his brain for something humiliating or hilarious, and finally, he snapped his fingers. “There was the time I thought it would be a good idea to break into the high school pool with a woman I met at Brews. We were in the shallow end when the cops showed up and hauled us in. They didn’t press charges, but they replaced the locks after that.”
Wren rolled her eyes. “How old were you?”
“It was last year,” he said.
Wren shook her head. “You’re lucky you didn’t get charged with breaking and entering.”
“Funny, that’s the same thing the chief said.” Her expression was so disapproving, he scoffed, “Oh, come on! You’re telling me you never do anything stupid for kicks anymore? You’ve gone that legit?”
“If you’re asking if I’ve broken any laws in the last fourteen years of being a police officer, the answer is no.” She hesitated and added, “Except for a few speeding incidents.”
“Oh, how many are we talking?” he asked.
Her expression turned sheepish. “Enough to where I almost got suspended and lost my license.”
“Yikes, should we change your name to Flash?” he teased.
Wren lost her smile. “I don’t know. Maybe we should we change your name to Peter Pan?”
Sam stiffened at her cutting tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“After I almost lost my job, I got my shit together and stopped speeding. I realized how dangerous and reckless I was being. Yet, here you are, still breaking into schools and bouncing around from girl to girl. Seems like you haven’t grown up at all since high school.”
Sam stood up and grabbed his dish from the table, hurt and anger stirring in his stomach like a twister. “You know, I thought that maybe you were saying all that stuff outside of the Wolf’s Den because you were angry about how we left things. But don’t come back here and act like you know who I am or what I’ve been through.” He scraped off the leftover food into the trash and set the dish on the counter with a clack, stomping back into the room to grab her plate, adding, “One conversation over dinner isn’t going to change the assumptions you’ve made about me, so why are we even here?”
Wren seemed to recoil at his anger, her eyes narrowing as she stood up, and she yanked her plate out of his hands. “I know you. You’re the same guy who said he loved me, that it was you and me against the world, and then when things got scary, you took my word at face value and left.”
“Oh, rehashing this now?” Sam snapped, memories of that day sweeping through him and dredging up all the humiliation and heartbreak to the surface. “I thought we were just gonna leave everything in the past and forget how we ended.”
“You’re telling me how much you’ve changed, but all I’ve seen is a guy who doesn’t want complications.” Wren stomped past him, cleaning off her own plate in the garbage and setting it on top of his before facing him again. “A man who doesn’t want commitment. Just like when I gave you an out, and you took it like a scared little boy.”
Sam took a step toward her, closing the distance as he stared down at the stubborn tilt of her chin and blazing eyes.
“You were the one who said we should end it because your dad wasn’t ever gonna leave either one of us alone,” Sam said softer, trying to get a handle on his temper even as his voice trembled with emotions he’d thought long dead and buried. “I knew that was true, at least while you were seventeen and under his roof, but I thought when I came back, you would be there waiting.”
Wren stilled. “What do you mean, when you came back?”
Sam hesitated, watching her eyes narrow. “Didn’t you get my letter?”
“No, I didn’t get a letter,” she whispered.
“I left it in the tree trunk. I thought you’d find it after I left, but when I came back and you were already gone, I just assumed you made your choice.”
Wren’s eyes shimmered in the kitchen light, never wavering from his. “I went back to that tree more than once before I left, and I never found anything.”
Sam released a bitter laugh. “Well, that’s that, then. Believe me or not.”
Sam went into the other room to gather the rest of the dishes, and when he came back, Wren was leaning against the counter, wiping at her cheeks. The pain on her face ate at him, and he set the remaining cleanup on the counter and approached her slowly.
“Hey, I’m sorry I snapped at you—”
“What did the letter say?” She sniffled.
Sam released a heavy sigh, placing his hand under her chin and lifting her gaze to his. “That I’d come back the next July when you were eighteen and graduated. When there would be nothing to stop us from being together.”
Wren’s eyes widened. “And did you come back?”
“Of course I did. I always keep my promises.”
Wren sat silently for several moments, staring at him. “I wish...”
“What?”
“I wish, knowing what we do now, we could go back to that day and handle things differently.”
Sam cradled her face in his hands. “I know.”
He started to lean in, but her hands came up between them, pressing against his chest.
“Sam, I have to tell you something—”
“Wren,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb across her lower lip. “Can I kiss you first?”