Chapter 18
It was Saturday morning, and Sam hadn’t heard from anyone in her family since talking to her father on Thursday. Which was fine with her. Evidently, Andrea didn’t want to speak to her, and neither her mother nor her father could make her older sister budge when she dug her heels in. The stalemate didn’t worry Sam. She’d made up her mind not to attend that damn wedding and she was sticking to it.
Meanwhile, she threw a few things together for her weekend jaunt to Connecticut with Jordan. One of her neighbors would feed the cats and take in the mail for the two days she’d be gone. It would be fun to get away from the city and smell country air, she thought, heading to work.
“So you’re taking off for the weekend?” Peter said when she walked into the gallery with her overnight bag.
Sam didn’t remember telling him any of the details. Had he surmised this information by himself? “Uh, I could use a change of pace,” she murmured, self-consciously sliding the bag under her desk. “Life’s been pretty hectic the last few weeks.”
He looked surprised. “Has it now? I guess the TV ads have added extra pressure. I assume you’ll be with Jordan.” He perched on the end of her desk as if awaiting all the juicy particulars.
Although she trusted Peter implicitly, Sam didn’t care to share all of her personal life with him. “You’re right on that score. By the way, Jack told me he’s stopping in later today with several friends from out-of-town who want to see the show. He’s delighted we’ve had so many sales.”
“Trying to change the subject, aren’t you?” Peter teased. “Okay, I know when I’m not wanted. Enjoy your time away with Jordan. Remember, I want to be invited to the wedding.”
“What wedding?” Sam blurted, frowning.
“Yours, of course,” he replied smoothly before walking back to his office.
Grimacing, Sam didn’t bother to answer. Didn’t he understand that she was much too busy for a permanent relationship? She was having a difficult time juggling things now. A steady man in her life would only present more complexities. Satisfied with her reasoning, she started to work on gallery business.
Jordan arrived promptly at five. She was still in conversation with a customer when he walked in. Waiting patiently, he ambled about, looking idly at the paintings. Peter wandered out of his office and, seeing him, came over to converse.
“You’ve got good weather for your weekend away,” he said to Jordan.
“Yes, it looks like clear skies. I’m looking at property in Connecticut for a possible weekend retreat.”
“Ah, that’s interesting. I’ve always thought about a place away from the city, but I’ve never gotten around to actually pursuing it. Hope you find something you like.”
Finishing with the customer, Sam turned to the two men. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” she said to Jordan. Then to Peter, she added, “I have a deposit on one of Jack’s works. They’ll be in next week to finalize the purchase.”
“Fine, fine,” he said. “Now get your things and get out of here. Have a wonderful time, and don’t think about the gallery.” Turning to Jordan, he said, “She’s been working too hard with all that TV work. I hope she can unwind over the next few days.”
“That’s the plan,” Jordan replied.
~ ~ ~
“Why don’t you put your head back and completely relax?” Jordan advised Sam while he drove toward the highway leading to Connecticut. “I have instructions from Peter to provide a carefree two days.”
Heaving a long sigh, Sam closed her eyes and leaned against the comfortable leather seat. “I wouldn’t mind some down time. Between the TV ad work and family stuff, I’m ready for a change of pace.”
Briefly, he wondered about the family stuff but decided not to pursue it. It would only cause her more stress. “We’ll have dinner on the way. It’ll be too late when we get there.”
Sam fell asleep within moments of getting in the car and didn’t wake until Jordan stopped at a small inn overlooking the Long Island Sound. Opening her eyes, she felt disoriented until he leaned over to give her a kiss.
“We’re here, sleepyhead. I hate to interrupt your rest, but this place has great seafood, and by now I’m starved.”
She touched his face with the tips of her fingers. “Thanks for the peaceful drive. I feel rejuvenated, and I’m hungry, too.”
By the time they reached the bed-and-breakfast Jordan had booked, it was close to ten at night. He’d called ahead to let the innkeeper know when they’d arrive, and the owner was on hand to show them to their room.
“It’s too dark, but in the morning you’ll be able to look out over the lake. The view is fantastic,” Jordan declared, setting their bags on a nearby chair. “Right now I feel like standing under a warm shower. Want to keep me company?” He moved close and drew her into his arms. “It’s cozier showering with you.” He nuzzled the side of her neck while he ran a hand down the length of her back.
Settling comfortably against him, Sam’s arms encircled his waist. “I wouldn’t mind,” she murmured. That warm tingly feeling spread from her head to her toes. Being with Jordan was downright habit-forming. In spite of her independent stance while talking with Heidi, she couldn’t help responding to the magnetic pull he exerted. When she was with him, she felt that sense of wholeness she hadn’t experienced before. Where it would all lead, she couldn’t imagine.
Sam woke up early on Sunday morning in Jordan’s warm embrace, her body nestled against his firmly muscled form, her legs tangled with his. Smiling with pleasure, her eyes still closed, she relished the feel of his hair-roughened legs and the clean scent of soap and shaving cream. He’d insisted on shaving after their shower together. It was tempting to consider waking this way every morning. Tempting but disturbing. She’d never get anything done with Jordan around. Forget painting on the weekends, and anything else she had in mind! But more importantly, she’d be letting herself in for the disappointment that was sure to follow when he tired of her company and looked elsewhere. It was only a matter of time. They were much too different for anything lasting to occur. And she still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell him she’d been the awkward student in his tai chi class.
She felt him stir beside her and she tensed, wondering if he could sense her angst. Holding her breath, she waited until his breathing evened out. Lulled by the rhythmic sound, Sam slowly began to relax. Maybe she was overreacting to everything. They’d only known each other a very short time. Nothing serious could happen, so why worry?
Jordan opened one eye and noted the time on the bedside clock. Almost ten o’clock, and breakfast at the inn was served from seven to eleven. It was hard to think of moving, though. Sam was asleep in his arms, and he didn’t want to disturb her. Still, his stomach was beginning to growl. He ran his hand up and down her bare back while he kissed the top of her head. She stirred, sighed, and half-opened one eye.
“Sam, sweetheart, sorry to wake you, but breakfast is served only until eleven. We can always come back and sleep afterward.” He’d made an appointment with the realtor for two in the afternoon, so they could spend a long morning together in bed.
She lifted her head briefly and then curled closer. “I don’t feel like moving. Could you bring me something like juice and a muffin?” It was decadent, staying in bed, but she couldn’t budge.
He considered her request. “Okay. You stay put and I’ll be back before you know it. I’m sure they won’t mind if I bring breakfast up to the room.”
She must have dozed a while. The next thing she knew, Jordan was there with a large tray. He settled it on the bed, discarded his jeans and tee shirt and plumped up the pillows behind him.
Sniffing the aroma of cinnamon-flavored French toast, Sam sat up and surveyed the breakfast items. “Looks marvelous,” she murmured, reaching for a glass of orange juice.
“This is the life.” Jordan took a sip of black coffee.
“Uh-huh.” She examined the plump pieces of golden-brown French toast. Conscious of her nudity, she pulled the sheet to cover her breasts before picking up her plate.
“Oh, no,” Jordan teased, dragging the sheet down. “This is the best part of breakfast in bed.” Leaning over, he kissed each rosy tip and worked his way up to her mouth. “I love seeing those beautiful nipples getting hard and pointy just because I’m looking at them.” His tone was husky with growing desire.
“All right, then,” she capitulated. Her cheeks flushed from the feel of his mouth and the warmth of his gaze. She almost forgot the tasty morsels in front of her.
Sitting back, Jordan willed himself to go slow and finish eating before reaching for Sam’s delectable body. He poured real maple syrup onto his French toast and then dabbed a bit on the tips of her breasts.
“What’re you doing?” she cried.
He laughed at her dismay. “It’ll be so much fun licking that syrup off. Maybe I need to add a pat of butter.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Sam moved several inches away. “I’m not your breakfast.” But she couldn’t help giggling.
“Okay, okay, I’ll be good,” he promised. His dark eyes danced with mischief.
“I don’t believe you,” she said, keeping a safe distance between them.
“Cross my heart. C’mon closer. It’s much more fun with your body touching mine.”
Narrowing her eyes thoughtfully, Sam decided he did look penitent. “Okay, if you keep your hands to yourself. These two pieces of French toast are mine.” She proceeded to inch back toward him and then added a pat of soft butter and syrup to her slices. “This is marvelous,” she said, taking her first bite. “I haven’t had French toast in a while.”
“Glad you agree with my choice. I could’ve brought eggs or pancakes, but this dish had that cinnamon scent. All we need is a scoop of ice cream on top.”
“You and your ice cream.”
“Never mind. We’ll have to find a shop for desserts in the area. We can sneak one in before we get busy seeing property.”
After a leisurely meal, Jordan put the tray outside their door and made sure the ‘do not disturb’ sign was displayed. Coming back to bed, he reached for her. “Now it’s our time.”
Sam was more than willing. Her entire body throbbed with excitement when his hands found all those secret places that yearned for his touch. Why there should be this strong chemistry between them was still a mystery. They were so different in most other respects. But she wasn’t about to question how right she felt in his arms. He made her feel fulfilled as a woman and left her with a satisfaction she’d never experienced before. The afterglow of their lovemaking was glorious too. She couldn’t remember her body feeling as comfortable and alive as it did when Jordan settled her on top of him, his legs and arms enclosing her in a cozy cocoon of delicious warmth.
“This is what I’ve been looking forward to all week,” he whispered, caressing her soft skin.
Sighing, she couldn’t help agreeing. “Me, too.”
“We need more time away like this,” Jordan continued. “There are too many interruptions in the city. That’s why I’d like a weekend retreat.”
“That’d be nice,” she murmured, still lost in the dreamy state instigated by his expert lovemaking.
This seemed the right time to invite her to Andrea’s wedding. “Sam, I hope you don’t have plans for the Memorial Day weekend. I want to spend it with you.”
That sounded like a lovely idea, since she wasn’t attending that damn wedding. “Okay with me.”
He sighed with relief. “Good, that’s settled then. I thought you might be busy.”
Turning slightly to look at him, she said, “Actually, I was supposed to go someplace, but I’ve changed my mind. Besides, I’d rather be with you.”
“There’s this wedding I’m obliged to attend because I’m in the wedding party. I’d like you to be with me. It’ll make the occasion less stressful. I’m not really into these kinds of things.”
“So you don’t like weddings either.” She raised herself up to give him a searching look. “If I had my way, they’d be outlawed. If people want to get married they can go to a justice of the peace or have a few close friends over to tie the knot. It’s sinful, the amount of money spent on one day’s festivities.”
“I quite agree with you,” he replied, pleasantly surprised. He’d never met a woman with those opinions.
“I guess I have a jaundiced view of the marital state,” she added in a pensive tone.
This was the opening for him to ask some pointed questions. “You mentioned you’d been married once. Did something happen to turn you off?”
Perhaps because she felt so relaxed, Sam was in the mood for confidences. “You could say that. I married a football player I’d dated in my senior year of college. We eloped and within a few days I knew I’d made a mistake. We divorced nine months later.” She shuddered at the memory.
“What was wrong with the guy? Was he abusive or something?”
“No, it wasn’t that. He was just so demanding that I didn’t have a moment’s peace. I was pretty young at the time, and idealistic too. I never imagined what a relationship involved until I lived with Don. It taught me a powerful lesson, and I never want to put myself in that position again,” she said adamantly.
He was silent for several moments, digesting this information. “Does that mean you don’t want to ever marry?”
“You could say that. It may work for other people, but I don’t think it would for me.” When he didn’t reply right away, she moved to one side to better view his expression. “Does that bother you?”
For a moment, he was nonplussed. She’d expressed what he’d felt up to this time. “I think it all depends on the people involved,” he hedged. “There are some couples who seem to have a satisfactory relationship and others who should never be married.”
He did have a point. “I can agree with you there. But I think for me marriage wouldn’t work. I like my privacy and doing what I want, when I want to. If you’re married to someone, you can’t do that very well. I mean, if I want to paint into the wee hours of the morning, I can do that. A husband would expect me to be at his side doing what he likes to do. At least, that’s been my experience.”
Jordan shifted onto his side and let his hand rest on her hip. “It doesn’t have to be that way. If a couple agrees beforehand to give each other private time and space, it could work. I could see two people living together with some areas of the home for both of them and other areas as separate places.” He never thought he’d be saying these things. Was he trying to convince her to consider marriage? When she didn’t reply right away, he added, “Would you ever consider living with someone rather than marrying?”
“I don’t know. I suppose it could work if it was a part-time thing. I couldn’t see myself living every day with someone. I mean, if I lived with a person who was very exacting about things, and I left the toothpaste cap off the tube, he’d probably blow up at me eventually. I’m not the best housekeeper in the world, as you well know.”
He started laughing. She was referencing his behavior at her home the last weekend they were together.
“What’s so funny?” she demanded.
“You,” he said, drawing her close for a long, soulful kiss. “I know you don’t like housecleaning. That’s why we’d always have someone in to clean. I wouldn’t expect you to do stuff you didn’t want to do.” The moment he said those words, he knew they were premature, and he hastened to make light of them. “I’m just using us as an example, not proposing anything.”
“Good,” she murmured, nestling closer. “I’m not ready for anything more than what we have.”
He wasn’t either, he thought. Or was he?