Connor couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous. With every ring of the phone, he prayed that she wouldn’t answer. Not that he wanted to leave a voicemail, either, though.

“What?” Sam said for an answer.

“Hi,” he said. “Um, I know it’s last minute, but my family is having an overnight retreat—”

She gave a mean laugh. “And let me guess, I’m expected to accompany you.”

“Well, yeah.”

“What kind of family has a ‘retreat’ anyway?” she asked.

“Apparently mine,” he said. “I know it sounds ridiculous, and it’s usually in the autumn, but due to a ton of stuff, it got changed last minute to tomorrow.”

She sighed. “And what exactly does such a ‘retreat’ entail?”

“You’ll be somewhat happy to know it’s simply an overnight stay at The Cottage.”

“Really?” she asked. Sam seemed to warm to the idea that it was nearby, only required a thirty minute drive, and The Cottage was known for the saltwater pools, massages and pampering, and not much else.

“So, can you do it?” he asked.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I? Just one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I drive there myself. I don’t care what excuse you tell your family. I don’t want to spend a second longer with you than I have to.”

“Agreed,” he said.

“That Sam of yours is certainly a dedicated career woman!” his mother said as she nursed her Arnold Palmer.

Sean rolled his eyes while he worked on his second gin and tonic of the morning.

“Quite impressive, quite impressive,” his father agreed. “Of course, I expect you’ve talked to her about lightening up her ‘duties’ after the wedding? You know what such demands can do on a girl who’s expecting—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Connor said. He checked his phone again, and as if Sam had been waiting, a text popped up.

Five min away, she said.

“She’s almost here,” Connor told his family. He stood up and brushed the croissant crumbs from his lap. “I’m going to go meet her.”

“Perfect timing,” his mother said. “I’m sure the two of you will love the couple’s massage I booked for you.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Connor said. It took all his power to force the sarcasm out of his voice.

Sam was just walking up the steps to the resort with her camel tote bag when he walked onto the patio. She looked beautiful as always in wide-legged white linen pants and a bright pink silky top. “Here,” he began as he reached for the tote. “Let me—”

“I can handle a bag, Connor,” she hissed as she tucked her sunglasses into her tote. In a second, her expression changed completely. A warm smile spread across her face. For a moment, he thought maybe she’d somehow forgiven him, though he couldn’t fathom why.

“Hello, dear!” his mother cooed from behind him. She rushed past Connor and embraced Sam in her arms. “It’s so lovely to see you. And don’t you look beautiful!”

“So do you,” Sam said sweetly. “I just love that dress.”

“Vintage,” his mom told her quietly, as if it were a secret. “Connor’s father hates how I adore these ‘old clothes,’ but men don’t understand much, do they?”

“No, they certainly don’t,” Sam agreed. She looked at Connor pointedly.

She gave a twinkling laugh. “I’ll let you two get settled in your room. I’ve booked a couple’s massage for you that starts in, oh, an hour. You know,” his mother said as she hooked arms with Sam, “I’d booked one for his father and I, too, but the man absolutely refuses. Says he doesn’t want some stranger fondling him.”

Connor thought he saw Sam stiffen slightly at the mention of a couple’s massage. If she had, she’d recovered nicely. She told his mother it sounded wonderful.

“Here we are,” Connor said as he opened the door to their suite.

“It’s just one bed,” Sam said.

“Yeah, well, my parents booked the rooms. I couldn’t exactly ask them for bunk beds.”

She made a face at him and tossed her bag on the chaise. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” she said.

“Don’t be so dramatic. Do you need to change or anything? Before the massage?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said. “Who do I have to impress? I mean, we won’t be seeing your parents for a couple of hours, will we?”

In the dimly lit massage room, the two middle-aged women waited for them, warmed oils at the ready along with hot stones. “Please go ahead and remove everything, except your underwear if you’d like, and get under the sheet,” one of the women said. “Face down. We’ll be back in just a moment.”

Sam turned her back to him as she undressed. It was maddening. He wanted to tell her not to bother, that it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. But he still found himself getting aroused as he stole peeks at her bare back. He felt an erection shift when he took in the fullness of her ass in that satin underwear. Stop it, he thought to himself. That’s exactly what you need in a massage room is a raging hardon.

She didn’t look at him at all as she slipped under the white sheet and nestled her face into the massage table opening. Connor took the moment to give her a long, hard look. He couldn’t see much anymore, but it might be the last time he could gaze at her unabashedly.

When he heard a knock at the door, he quickly got under his own covers. The two women went to work as the New Age music swelled in the room. “How long have you two been engaged?” the brunette who worked on Connor asked.

“Engaged? Not long now,” he said. “But we dated for quite a bit before that.”

“Ah, yes, I think I saw a photo of you two in the pap—”

The woman stopped herself before she could reveal that she knew who he was. It was uncouth to act like you read the gossip column at such a posh place. He heard Sam sigh contentedly as the blonde who hovered over her hit a sweet spot. “Have you ever had a couple’s massage together before?” the woman asked her.

“No,” Sam said quietly.

“It’s very romantic,” the woman said. “I recommend all couples get one at least every few months. It can work wonders, especially when stress at home or work is high. It’s a good reminder of simply being together and pampering yourselves. You know?

Connor nearly laughed. It felt good, but if this woman thought a massage was all it was going to take to fix their problems, she was crazy.

After the massage, he had to admit he felt loose and calm all over. Even Sam walked back to their room in a more languid way than he’d ever seen. She didn’t even barge ahead of him like she tended to do these days. He felt a buzz in his pocket and pulled his phone out. “Fuck,” he said.

She looked at him curiously.

“I thought—damnit. The whole family’s coming after all.”

“What do you mean the whole family?”

“The extended family. Two uncles, an aunt, and all their kids and grandkids.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. My mother had told me they couldn’t make it given the last-minute change of plans.”

Sam sighed as they stepped into their suite. Someone, he guessed his mother, had ordered red flower petals to be sprinkled across the bed with a bottle of chilled champagne on the nightstand. “Did you—”

“It wasn’t me,” he said quickly.

“You’re really testing me,” she said. Sam pulled a dress out of her bag and shut the bathroom door hard behind her.

Connor took Sam on the requisite rounds as the whole family gathered for pre-dinner cocktails. Even he could barely remember some of the names, especially of the kids, and was wildly impressed at Sam’s ability to charm. She cooed at and held all the babies, connected with his cousins, and won over even his gruff uncle Bernard with ease.

As he watched her immerse herself in his family, he could easily see her there for good. It was natural. A few times he caught his father watching her, but what the hell? Let him. He knew that even in the state they were in right now, Sam would never do anything.

Dinner was largely uneventful. There were toasts, and quite a few were directed at them and their impending marriage. “May we perhaps set a date once and for all this weekend,” his father had said to a round of cheers. Sam smiled broadly, as if that was her greatest wish, too.

“Everyone’s drunk,” he whispered to her by nine o’clock.

Sam nearly laughed, or so he thought. The two glasses of champagne had softened her.

“Want to make our escape?”

She nodded, took the last swallow of the bubbly, and accepted his hand when he offered it. She didn’t let go, not even when they were far out of sight.

In their room, she threw herself onto the bed. A flurry of red rose petals exploded from around her. Connor took a white pillow and tossed it on the couch to start making his bed.

“No,” she said. “It’s fine.” Sam patted the bed. “There’s plenty of room for both of us. What difference does one more night make?”

What does she mean by that?

Connor went to the bed cautiously. When he lay down, she turned on her side to face him and tucked a pillow under her cheek. “I hope I did okay tonight. Because—”

He cut her off. Whatever she was going to say next, he didn’t want to hear. “You did great.” As always.

She hadn’t changed out of her bright orange dress. It had hitched up close to the apex of her hip. He could see her cleavage easily through the peephole neckline. He reached out and touched her arm. “Sam—”

She closed the distance between them. As soon as he felt her lips on his, all bets were off. His body responded like he’d been starved, and he pulled her against him. His hands squeezed her waist and tested the swell of her hips. He needed to be certain she was real.

Their tongues met, and she bit his lower lip gently. Connor caressed one of her breasts through the thin summer material. She responded with a leg over his.

It was insane, how he simultaneously felt like he already knew every inch of her and how she was still a mystery every time. Connor wiped a stray lock of her hair from her cheek and held her jaw in his hand.

He needed her immensely. As he reached under her dress to pull down her underwear, she moaned in pleasure—and that seemed to break the spell. Sam’s eyes shot open as she froze. She looked at him like she’d just woken up and found him assaulting her.

She pushed back, eyes big. “What…”

Fuck. He didn’t know what to say or what to do. Frustrated and angry at her, at himself, he got up silently and threw himself on the couch. Somehow, on that little velvet settee with his back to her, he forced sleep upon himself after what seemed like hours.

The last thing he remembered was listening to her running the shower in the bathroom.