Chapter 30
Red snapped her laptop shut with a click, eased out of her flats, and hopped up to answer Sam’s knock, still wedging a foot into the heels she kept under her desk.
“My reception area looks nice. A little elf must have tidied up in here when I wasn’t looking.”
“Had to. You’re about as organized as three chickens in a shoebox.”
Sam sounded like his normal self. She smiled. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“All set?”
“All set. Where are we going?”
“Thought we might run down to Serendipity.”
“I would love that.” They stepped out into the warm August evening arm in arm, to the envious glance of a woman walking alone on the other side of the street.
Red snuggled into Sam’s side. Earlier that afternoon, he’d said he wanted them to be together. That he’d always wanted that. Whatever their problems, that was topmost in her mind. For now, it felt good enough just to be with him. To be in the present.
They held hands all the way to McMinnville.
“Serendipity donates a percentage of sales to a local non-profit every Tuesday.”
“Underneath all that sarcasm, you are a nice man, Captain Owens.”
“You wanted ice cream. Figured it’s about time.”
A little while later, Red carried her bowl of vanilla bean outside to a tiny sidewalk table on the corner of Third and Evans.
“I don’t want to ruin the mood. But I’m sure you’re anxious to know what’s going to happen with your dad. Do you want me to tell you?”
“Nope,” Sam replied, folding his arms on the table, watching her dig in. “I want one more night knowing he’s secure at Woodcrest. Don’t know how many more nights like that I’ll have.”
“We won’t talk about him, then. But I do have something to get off my chest.”
“Shoot.”
“I haven’t been very empathetic with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Expecting you to open up on demand about all the things you’ve been holding back for so long.”
“Yeah. Well. I guess I needed a nudge in the right direction.”
“What I gave you was more than a nudge. It was more like a decree.
“And something else. The Sensate Focus Technique. I’m not your therapist. It was wrong of me to go there.”
“I’m the one who owes you an apology. I didn’t realize I was taking advantage of you.”
“You weren’t. I used sex as a tool.”
“Hey, I’m not picky. I’ll take it any way I can get it.”
“Stop kidding. I’m serious. Say you’ll forgive me.”
Sam tilted his head, his steady gaze on her mouth. “Forgive what? I can’t concentrate when you do that thing with your spoon.”
“What thing?”
He took her utensil from her. “This thing.” He deposited a small mountain of ice cream into his mouth, withdrawing a smooth lump half the size of the original.
Red felt her trademark flush climbing her neck. “It’s just ice cream.” All around them, people were eating it.
“Your turn,” he said. He scooped up another bite and aimed for her mouth.
He was finally feeding her ice cream, and now she was overcome with self-consciousness.
By rights, the spoon belonged to her. She reached for it, but he was faster. “Uh uh. Put your hand down.”
Lowering her hand to the table, she glanced around McMinnville’s busiest street corner at the other tables crowding the sidewalk. “Sam. People are watching.”
“Watching, are they? You didn’t seem to mind that when—”
“When what?”
“Never mind. You wanted to be fed. Now open up.”
Her lips parted a little.
“Wider.”
She did as she was told, bracing a palm against the table’s edge.
“Hands in your lap. That’s better. Now. Look at me.”
The metal was cold on her tongue. Under Sam’s scrutiny, she closed her mouth on it, melting the mound until it slipped easily off the spoon’s bowl. The cold cream contrasted with the warmth growing in her lower belly.
“If I’d known how much fun this was, I’d have started spoon feeding you a long time ago,” Sam teased, lazily swirling the dessert. “Maybe there’s something to that sensate focus thing after all.”
Red blushed even harder. How could something as simple as eating ice cream make her feel so dirty?
He held out another spoonful, and Red took it in her mouth, silently cursing herself for having ever mentioned SFT.
He held out the biggest bite yet.
She laughed. “That’s too big.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
He prompted her lips with the spoon.
The crush had already started at some vineyards. A couple of field hands in muddy boots, hoodies, and backward facing ball caps rounded the corner, brushing close by Red’s chair just as Sam withdrew the spoon from her mouth.
She heard one of the men mutter something in passing, followed by coarse laughter.
“Jealous,” translated Sam, wiping her face with a scratchy paper napkin.
Cheeks burning, she ducked her chin.
“Chin up. Last bite.”
He seared her with his eyes as she closed her mouth on the spoon again. “Your lips conform to the shape of whatever I put between them,” he mused. “Did you know that?”
She struggled to come up with something witty to say to prove she wasn’t aroused to distraction, that is, if he gave her the chance. But just as the spoon clattered unceremoniously into the empty bowl, he sat back with easy grace. “If you don’t like being in public, Doc, then we should think of somewhere private to go.”
He was maddening. How could he be so cool? So controlled?
“My place is out. Grandma’s binge-watching a Dancing with the Stars marathon.”
“Wouldn’t want to interrupt her TV program with a granddaughter who makes enough noise to wake the whole trailer park.” He grinned.
“There’s your place,” she said wantonly.
“Eh. Too dismal.”
“Really? I thought you didn’t see how…”
“What? How dreary it is in there?”
“Not dreary…”
“No need to humor me. That place is gloomier than a back alley in Seattle on a January night.”
“I thought you didn’t notice. Or didn’t care.”
“Got bigger problems to worry about than décor.”
“So you’re not wedded to the idea of living there.”
“Hell, no.” He perked up. “I got an idea. Let’s see if we can get into that B&B.”
“Chehalem Ridge?”
Sam was already looking up the number.
He hung up a moment later. “We got the High Desert Suite. King-sized bed, private balcony overlooking the vineyard. Annnnd…ready for this?” He lifted a brow. “Two-person Jacuzzi.” He made like he was surfing with his upper body.
Red felt a slow smile blossom. One thing about Sam—he never failed to entertain.
She hadn’t forgotten about her dream house, in spite of the boulder-sized roadblocks that had been thrown in her way. But maybe Sam was right about living in the present. Tonight, she wanted to bask in being that woman who had just been fed ice cream by a handsome, amber-eyed man.
“I just hope those walls are sound-proof. Word reaches Clarkston that Dr. Sophia McDonald got kicked out of a B&B, who knows what effect a bombshell like that’d have on next year’s race for best therapist?”
“Sam.”
* * * *
The morning sun flooded the windows of the High Desert Suite.
Red was snuggled into Sam’s shoulder, snoring softly.
The previous night played through his head. They had taken full advantage of the Jacuzzi. And compared with what they were used to, the king-sized bed they lay in was: like making love on a cloud.
Red stretched her arms above her head on a yawn.
Sam stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “Hey. You awake?”
“Mm.”
“I’m ready.”
She flipped away from him onto her stomach. “Not again. Not yet.”
“Not that.” He rolled her back over. “To hear what you decided about my Dad.”
She rubbed her eyes and gathered her thoughts. After a minute she said, “I consulted with Dr. Mowbray about your father’s responses to the battery of psychological tests.”
“And?” He lay still, holding his breath.
“Based on the available data, we agree: your father likely has a progressive dementia.”
Her head rolled toward him, gauging his reaction.
“Maybe it’s Alzheimer’s, maybe it isn’t. Regardless, we concur that it would be best for him and those around him if he had round the clock supervision.”
Sam’s eyes closed on an exhale.
“What are you thinking?”
“That this was exactly what I wanted.”
“I didn’t do it to pacify you.”
“I know. I’m also... sad.”
“You’re bound to be. No one would wish this diagnosis on anybody, let alone his own father.”
After a pause, she asked, “Now what?”
Along with the confusing blend of relief and sadness came a sense of freedom. Instead of keeping his thoughts to himself the way he used to, he opened up.
“He’s in a safe place. Now that he’s going to be a permanent resident of Woodcrest I’m thinking the next step is to get a power of attorney. After that, if you still want to buy the house...” But the staccato pounding of his heart wouldn’t let him finish.
Red shot straight up in bed. “Really?”
He kissed her hand, hoping she didn’t notice how much he trembled. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now I just want to lie here and hold you. Go back to sleep if you want.”
“Sleep, now? I couldn’t possibly!”
“Sshh. We’ll talk about it later.”
She finally lay back down and rolled over and he began to caress her back.
“Mm. Feels good.”
It wasn’t long until her breathing evened.