Sam

The next morning, Sam was rousted from sleep way too early by a stern-looking servant. The woman drew the curtains and placed a pair of slippers and a robe next to Sam’s bed. “Breakfast is being served in the parlor, Madame.”

Sam wasn’t a morning person. And she’d barely slept last night. Plus, being woken up by a stranger that looked like an extra from the cast of Downton Abbey was too much to handle. Sam grumbled around the room sleepily trying to find something more her style in the guest drawers, but she was met with more lace and ruffles and finally gave up and settled for the robe.

By the time Sam found her way to the parlor, it looked like breakfast was finishing up. Cara was sipping tea with Sam’s father while more servants cleared their plates.

“Sam!” her father exclaimed as she dropped into the open chair across from him. “Good morning, honey. I was almost ready to send the search party out,” he joked.

She scowled at him. Almost? She grabbed the cloth napkin one of the servants placed in her lap and twisted it, imagining all the ways she could use it to choke her father.

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I have some news.”

Cara stood up and smiled sweetly. “I’ll give you two some privacy to discuss things.”

Sam frowned. That wasn’t a good sign.

Before she could question her father, another servant came in and placed a plate in front of her—greasy hash, baked tomatoes, poached eggs, ham, beans, burnt toast and blood sausage—a traditional Irish breakfast. God, she missed Boston.

All Sam wanted was a strawberry Pop-Tart and black coffee in her favorite Red Sox mug.

“So,” her father said once they were alone. “I have good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” Sam said reaching for the toast.

“Our storage container isn’t going to be arriving for another few weeks.”

“What? My whole life is in there, Dad!”

“I know, honey. And it will all get here safe and sound. It’s just been delayed.”

“I start school next week! What am I supposed to do without my clothes and everything? Dad, this is a nightmare!”

“Well, that brings me to the good news. Henry and Cara have invited us to stay with them until our things arrive.”

Sam dropped her toast. “What?”

“Well, we can’t very well move into the house I rented. It’s unfurnished. But, Henry overheard my conversation with the shipping company and offered to let us stay. Isn’t that great?”

Sam felt like her world was circling the drain. Stay here? With Devon? With the creepy twins and that baby? With Cara? With servants she didn’t know? With another person dying of cancer? No! This was too much, even for her father to ask.

“No way, Dad!”

“Honey . . .”

Sam got to her feet. “I said no. I am not staying here!”

“Samantha!” Her father never used her full name unless he was really pissed. His voice was low and rushed. “I will not have you treating my dearest friends poorly. They’ve been nothing but kind to us, and this is not negotiable.” He recovered his composure and pointed to her plate. “Sit down and finish your breakfast.”

Sam sat, her temper barely leashed. And, as if her morning wasn’t already bad enough, Devon chose that moment to waltz into the parlor looking like a million bucks. He stopped short when he saw the scowl on Sam’s face. She was sure the tension in the room was palpable, but her father tried to smooth it over. “Good morning, Devon,” he greeted.

“Uh, hi,” Devon said looking uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Nonsense,” her father replied. “Please, join us. Actually, you might be able to help. Sam and I were just discussing how she’ll be staying here for the next few weeks.”

Devon’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “She is?”

“Well, we both are. As, long as it’s not a problem for you, of course?” her father added.

What? Devon has a choice?

So not fair.

Sam tried her best telepathy powers on him. Please say no! Please say no! But Devon only stared at her with his pretty gray eyes and shook his head. “Of course not, Mr. Connors. I’m glad for the company.”

“Great! Then it’s settled,” her father said. “I think it’ll be great. That way I’ll be nearby to work with Henry when he feels up to it. And you and I can work together when you’re free, Devon.”

“Sounds grand,” Devon said.

“Grand!” her father echoed. God, she hated when he tried to sound Irish. He smiled at Sam and she gave him a patronizing smirk.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today, kids?” her father asked.

“I don’t know, Dad. Seeing I don’t have any clothes or belongings, I guess I’ll just lock myself in my room. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She stood abruptly and stormed out of the parlor, marching back to her bedroom.

Devon

“I’m sorry about that, Devon. Sam’s not really a morning person,” Mr. Connors said, sounding a tad embarrassed.

“She’s a bit feistier than I remember,” Devon ventured.

Mr. Connors chuckled. “Yeah. But, I may have thrown a bit too much on her plate at this hour. I usually wait until she’s had at least one cup of coffee.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Devon replied, offering Mr. Connors a smile. “Anything else I should know?”

Mr. Connors shook his head and shrugged. “I wish I knew. Honestly, I’m probably the last person to give advice about Sam. She doesn’t really talk to me, no matter how hard I try. I guess it’s my fault for dragging her back to Ireland. I was really hoping she’d see what a great opportunity this was for us to spend time together before she goes off to college.”

Devon felt bad for the man. He was visibly upset that his daughter was unhappy. And Devon couldn’t help but think Sam was being a spoiled brat. Here her father was, a kind, healthy parent, wanting to spend time with her and she was treating him like rubbish. Devon would kill for that.

“Maybe I could talk to her for you. Help make it easier for her to adjust.”

“You would do that?” Mr. Connors asked.

“Yeah, I’d be happy to. I could take her to campus and show her around. Maybe that would help her shake out her nerves.”

“Shoot! I almost forgot I was supposed to bring Sam by Eddington today to pick up her books and uniform before classes start next week.” He glanced at his phone and frowned. “I told Henry I’d meet him to go over the flaws in the new BETA at noon. Do you think I can get to Eddington and back by then?”

Devon shook his head. “Maybe my father can reschedule?”

Mr. Connors frowned again.

An idea sparked in the part of Devon’s mind that he thought had been mortally wounded by Sam’s words last night. “Or, if it would help you out, I could take Sam to Eddington?”

“Devon! You’re a lifesaver! Here,” Mr. Connors pulled a black credit card out of his wallet. “Please, get her anything she wants. And even the stuff she doesn’t want. I just want her to be happy here.”

Devon took the card and shook Mr. Connors’ hand. “You got it.”

* * *

Devon walked down the hall to Sam’s room. Finding out she was going to be living with him had given him a whole new outlook. It was like a sign from above that he wasn’t supposed to give up. Maybe things would work out after all. Devon hadn’t met a girl yet that he couldn’t win over. Besides, after the moody way she was treating her father, Devon was thinking he might need to reconsider if he even wanted to date Sam.

This time when Devon reached her door, he knocked immediately, not wanting to overhear her saying something else degrading about him. Sam answered wearing her clothes from the day before. Her eyes were dewy, like she’d been crying and her lips looked like they’d been formed from two perfect rose petals as she crossed her arms and pouted at him. Yep, he definitely still wanted to date her. And kiss her. And other things . . . Devon mentally scolded himself, Get it together, mate!

“What do you want?” Sam asked.

“I come in peace,” Devon said, handing Sam a mug of black coffee. Just how she liked it, according to her father. “Your father asked me to take you to Eddington today to get your books and uniform.”

“Great,” she muttered. “He’s passing me off already.”

“You should try being nicer to him, Sam. He cares about you.”

“Yeah, so much that he’s sending you to take me school shopping. Something he promised to do.”

“I’m sure he’s doing the best he can.”

She snorted. “Not likely. The only thing he really cares about is his stupid company.”

“That may be, but he’s the only parent you’ve got left.”

Sam’s face fell and Devon instantly regretted his words. It was insensitive being that Sam had already lost her mother. But lately, Devon had been saying stupid things like that because of his own fears over losing his father.

“Shite, I didn’t mean it like that, Sam, I—”

“It’s fine,” Sam interrupted. “Let’s just go to Eddington, okay?” she grabbed her purse and tried to push past him.

“Wait.” Devon grabbed her arm. “Last night—”

“Oh my God! I thought we agreed to forget last night!”

“Christ, we did! But this is what I mean.”

“What?”

“You said you wanted to start over.”

“So?” Sam retorted sharply.

“Well, I was hoping we could start over as friends.”

Sam eyed him suspiciously.

“I mean it. My life’s a mess. I could really use a friend right now, and I think you could too.”

“I don’t need a friend,” she scoffed.

“I can tell. I mean that winning attitude of yours is probably going to get you all kinds of friends at Eddington,” he teased.

Sam rolled her eyes. “Fine, we can be friends. But just friends.”

Devon smiled and stuck out his hand to Sam.

She took it and added, “Friends don’t kiss, you know?” A hint of a smile cracked her delicate features. She was even prettier when she was trying to look mad.

Devon couldn’t help himself. “Sometimes they do,” he said squeezing her tiny, warm hand.

“Then we’re the kind of friends that don’t kiss.”

We’ll see, Devon thought as he shook Sam’s hand while trying to contain the hope that fizzed in his chest. It felt like someone had cracked the window again—just enough for him to breathe.