Chapter Three
S am scowled at his younger brother, who was bent over and laughing uproariously at the events of the previous night. Jace had relayed a portion when they arrived before running off to his room, leaving Sam with the proverbial bag.
“So, my son good-naturedly tried to help you get a girlfriend and instead made you the town pariah?” Clark’s dark eyes danced, his neck-length brown hair bouncing with his guffawing. Sam had taken after his mother in coloring, while Clark looked more like their dad, and the difference in their personalities was still a mystery to Sam. Their parents were cold people with a sense of humor as dry as toast.
“You’re an ass,” Sam said, dropping Jace’s backpack on the couch. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Not lately.” Clark Griffin grinned at his older brother, holding on to the back of the couch for support as he wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. “Then again, we haven’t spent much time together, so that makes sense.”
“Come on, man, lay off. I had a hell of a night.”
Clark’s eyes widened. “Please tell me you didn’t listen to the rest of the show.”
Sam avoided his brother’s gaze. “I caught a little bit here and there. It was hard to ignore it once I knew it was happening.”
Clark grimaced. “How bad?”
“Like a train wreck that explodes and body pieces fly everywhere. Then zombies come and pick apart the flesh.”
“Sorry I asked,” Clark said grimly, patting his brother on the back.
Merry came out of the back room, glowing and smiling. Her pregnant stomach preceded her as she shuffled across the room to hug him. “Hello, Sam. How was your guys’ night in?”
“Eye-opening,” Sam deadpanned, and when Merry’s curious gaze swung to her husband, he shook his head.
“Don’t ask.”
“Alright, I won’t.” Merry released him with a comforting arm squeeze and headed to the front door.
“Where are you off to?” Clark asked.
She grabbed her purse and jacket off the hook before kissing Clark in a long, lingering meeting of lips. “I’m going to meet up with all the businesses participating in this year’s Christmas activities. I’ll be home this afternoon.”
Clark brushed her hair back, his expression etched with concern. “If you get tired, come home. Make one of the other committee members set things in motion.”
Merry laughed, a light tinkling sound that matched her angelic blond beauty. “You know I’m a control freak and I could never leave this to anyone else.”
“I do know this, but I don’t like to see you stressed.” Clark kissed her again. “That’s all.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I will be fine.” Merry pulled away from her husband and leveled Sam with a heavy stare. “Since I have you, I need bachelors.”
“What?” Sam asked.
“We are having a bachelor auction in a few weeks, and I need all single, non-douchebags on deck.”
Sam snorted. “Haven’t you heard? I’m the biggest douche in Mistletoe.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I need you.” His sister-in-law watched him with big, pleading eyes. “You just have to offer goods or services from your business and a few hours of your time for a short date. Make her smile, maybe share a few laughs, and you can walk away knowing you’ve done your civic duty.”
Clark cleared his throat. “He’s concerned that the ladies of Mistletoe may not find him appealing anymore.”
“Huh? That’s stupid,” Merry said, pointing at Sam. “With that jawline and those pecks? He’d have to be carrying around a serious STD to repel the horny ladies of this town.”
“That is the most horrifying thing I think has ever come out of your mouth,” Clark said, blinking at her. “I’m stunned.”
“Believe me, I’ve said worse, but I know there are little ears down the hall.” Merry took a deep breath and hollered, “Bye, Jace! I love you!”
Thundering boy feet preceded the blur of Jace’s body as he hugged Merry and ran back to his room. “Love you, too!”
Merry watched him retreat with a soft expression, which melted into a serious, I’m-not-taking-no-for-an-answer look when her gaze returned to Sam. “I’m going to include you in the auction, even if you only bring in a small amount. Everything helps.”
Sam scowled at Clark. “Your wife is mean when she’s prego.”
“Don’t blame my pregnancy. My fetus is not the reason you lost your appeal. Women get tired of looking for men and only finding”—Merry glanced down the hallway and lowered her voice to barely above a whisper—“fuckboys.”
“Merry,” Sam said, his voice dangerously calm despite the fury raging below the surface, “I love you as my sister-in-law, but I’m no one’s fuckboy.”
Clark wrapped his arms around his wife’s shoulders and started ushering her toward the door, an apologetic expression directed at his brother. “You should probably get going, babe. Don’t want to keep all the Mistletoe residents waiting.”
Merry stalled in the doorway with a sigh, giving Sam a small smile over her husband’s shoulder. “Sorry, Sam. I know you don’t lead women on. I’m just worried the dating pool in Mistletoe is going to be so low that this whole event is going to flop.”
Sam shook his head. “I’ll do it, but I think you’re selling the men of Mistletoe short. There’s some prime beefcake in this little town.”
“Why do you have to objectify them?” Merry griped.
Sam threw up his hands. “I give up!”
“Alright, honey, let’s give Sam a break this morning. Our son kind of set him up for a rough one last night.”
“What are you talking about?” Merry asked, but the door shut before Sam could hear Clark’s response. He could just imagine Clark relaying last night’s events, chuckling up a storm. Sam waited several moments until he heard his sister-in-law’s car start and then he pulled open the door just as Clark was coming back inside.
“I’m going to take off,” Sam grumbled.
“Hey, man, are you okay?” Clark took hold of his arm before he could get past him, closing the door so they were standing face-to-face on the porch. “I know Merry was giving you a hard time, and last night sounds like a barrel of laughs, but you’re not one to let shit like that get to you.”
“I’m fine, bro.” Clark continued to watch him skeptically, and Sam admitted, “I’m just tired of everyone writing me off because I haven’t wanted a relationship. Some men are just late bloomers, you know?”
“Late bloomers?” Clark repeated, oblivious to anything else Sam said.
“Stop acting like you can’t understand what I’m saying!” Sam crossed the wood planks, gripping the railing as he stared off toward the trees and mountains. “I don’t want to be this guy who bounces from bed to bed. I think I want something real.”
When his brother didn’t respond, Sam turned to see Clark’s mouth open and close several times. Sam rolled his eyes and leaned back against the railing with a grunt. “What? Is that so crazy?”
“Huh? No! It’s just surprising.” Clark cleared his throat, hesitating before he asked, “Have you ever been serious about anyone?”
Of the handful of women Sam had dated more than a couple of months, he could honestly say he’d never been tempted. If he went further back to his last year of high school, there was one girl he’d been willing to give up everything for and almost had.
If she hadn’t ripped his still-beating heart from his chest and stomped on it.
He would have given up anything, even his freedom, to be with Wren Little. She was beautiful, strong, funny, and challenged him. Back when he was a romantic fool, she had been the highlight of his youth, and he thought they would be together forever, but that wasn’t the case.
It was bad enough that Wren’s father hated Sam and had threatened to throw him in jail if he didn’t stay away from her, but for her to tell him they were just kidding themselves about how they felt? That they would never have made it in the real world?
Maybe not, but they’d have been happy. Whether it would have lasted months or years was anyone’s guess, but he’d been willing to go for it.
He’d seen her a couple times around town since she’d returned, that dark uniform hugging hips and thighs, which were fuller than he remembered. He hadn’t gotten close enough to really study her, but that tight bun secured at the back of her head was a far cry from the wild curls that used to hang down her back as she straddled his motorcycle, lips cherry red and begging to be kissed.
That was the Wren from his past, not the uptight cop strutting around town like she had a bug up her butt.
“Sam?” Clark asked, driving away thoughts of Wren. “What are you up to today?”
“I’m going to head into work and then probably hit the Den afterward.”
Clark shook his head. “I can’t believe you like that dive. Aren’t you worried about getting busted in some raid on the place?”
Sam snorted. “The place is hardly a criminal enterprise. Nothing illegal is happening at the Den.”
“Still, it’s suspicious with those rooms in the back and the rough crowd,” Clark said, frowning. “Just don’t get caught up in anything I have to bail you out of.”
“No worries, little brother. I can stay out of trouble for a night or two and give you peace of mind. However, if I should end up in a situation where bail money and a lawyer are needed, you’re my first call.”
Clark’s mouth kicked up in the corner, giving Sam a small smile. “I’m flattered.”
“You should be. You’re the only person I can count on.”
“Now, come on. Chris and Victoria treat you like family.”
“I know, but I would never call them to save me from the drunk tank.” Sam glanced at his smartwatch and shrugged. “Guess I better be taking off. Just a few more months of working my tail off, and I’ll have enough to open my own tattoo parlor.”
“That’s great, man,” Clark said, following him off the porch. “You think there’s enough business in town to support two tattoo parlors?”
“I don’t know.” The possibility that Sam would have to set up somewhere else had been weighing on him, but owning a business and calling the shots had been his dream since he was a kid. “I would have had my own place a long time ago if I hadn’t been betrayed by a snake.”
“I know,” Clark said softly.
Although Sam’s brother knew some of what happened, he didn’t know the full story. How he’d looked up to his boss, Ray Kilpatrick, and when the older man talked about retiring, Sam offered to buy his tattoo parlor. When he couldn’t get a loan through the bank, Sam had given Ray his savings and agreed to continue making payments to Ray—what the older man called carrying the loan—until the building was paid for. It turned out that Ray had gotten behind on some payments of his own, so he sold the business out from under Sam and ran off with Sam’s money.
It was the main reason Sam had come back to Mistletoe. That and to be close to Clark and Jace, the only family he cared about.
“Whew, how did we get stuck on such a bummer subject?” Sam asked.
“We were talking about dreams, and sometimes that can bring up things we would rather forget.” Clark’s expression pinched, pain etched in his eyes. “Remember, I had to put my life on hold when Jace’s mom left and I was trying to figure out how to raise him and finish school.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, bro,” Sam said.
“You did your best, but it was my responsibility, and we did alright. Even after I finished college and got a great job, it wasn’t until I took the job here that I realized my true calling was woodworking. Like I finally found my place in the world.” Clark smiled softly. “And the woman I love.”
“That’s what I want,” Sam said, pushing off the railing. “To find my passion and maybe even someone to share my dream with.”
Clark shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re talking like this. Do you have anyone in mind?”
Sam shook his head. “No, but I’ve got time. Been waiting around for thirty-seven years. What’s a few more?” Sam stared out into the trees, his jaw stiff with determination. “When I do find someone who gets me, everyone in this town who said I wouldn’t commit is going to eat some serious crow.”
“Falling in love shouldn’t be about proving people wrong.”
Sam shrugged. “Why can’t it be both?”