A Cinderella Story: Maid Under the Mistletoe / My Fair Billionaire / Second Chance with the CEO. Maureen Child

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СКАЧАТЬ watching the snow and making her plans. He looked briefly to Joy. “How else were you going to get into town?”

      “I could have called Deb, asked her or Sean to come and pick up Holly.”

      “Right, or we could do it the easy way and have me drive you both in.” Sam kept his gaze on the road. The snow was falling, not really heavy yet, but determined. It was already piling up on the side of the road, and he didn’t even want to think about Joy and Holly, alone in a car, maneuvering through the storm that would probably get worse. A few minutes later, he pulled up outside the Casey house and was completely stunned when, sprung from her car seat, Holly leaned over and kissed his cheek. “’Bye, Sam!”

      It was the second time he’d been on the receiving end of a simple, cheerfully given slice of affection that day, and again, Sam was touched more deeply than he wanted to admit. Shaken, he watched Joy walk Holly to her friend’s house and waited until she came back, alone, and slid into the car beside him.

      “She hardly paused long enough to say goodbye to me.” Joy laughed a little. “She’s been excited by the sleepover for days, but now the fairy houses are the big story.” She clicked her seat belt into place, then turned to face him. “She was telling Lizzie all about the lights in the woods and promising that you and she will make Lizzie a fairy house, too.”

      “Great,” he said, shaking his head as he backed out of the driveway. He wasn’t sure how he’d been sucked into the middle of Joy’s and Holly’s lives, but here he was, and he had to admit—though he didn’t like to—that he was enjoying it. Honestly, it worried him a little just how much he enjoyed it.

      He liked hearing them in his house. Liked Holly popping in and out of the workshop, sharing dinner with them at the big dining room table. He even actually liked building magical houses for invisible beings. “More fairies.”

      “It’s your own fault,” she said, reaching out to lay one hand on his arm. “What you did was—it meant a lot. To Holly. To me.”

      The warmth of her touch seeped down into his bones and quickly spread throughout his body. Something else he liked. That jolt of heat when Joy was near. The constant ache of need that seemed to always be with him these days. He hadn’t wanted a woman like this in years. He swallowed hard against the demand clawing at him and turned for the center of town and the road back to the house.

      “We’re not in a hurry, are we?” she asked.

      Sam stopped at a red light and looked at her warily. “Why?”

      “Because, it’s early, but we could stay in town for a while. Have dinner at the steak house...”

      She gave him a smile designed to bring a man to his knees. And it was working.

      “You want to go out to dinner?” he asked.

      “Well,” she said, shrugging. “It’s early, but that won’t kill us.”

      He frowned and threw a glance out the windshield at the swirls of white drifting down from a leaden sky. “Still snowing. We should get up the mountain while we still can.”

      She laughed and God, he loved the sound of it—even if it was directed at him and his lame attempt to get out of town.

      “It’s not a blizzard, Sam. An hour won’t hurt either of us.”

      “Easy for you to say,” Sam muttered darkly. “You like talking to people.” The sound of her laughter filled the truck and eased his irritation as he headed toward the restaurant.

      * * *

      Everybody in town had to be in the steak house, and Joy thought it was a good thing. She knew a lot of people in Franklin and she made sure to introduce Sam to most of them. Sure, it didn’t make for a relaxing dinner—she could actually see him tightening up—but it felt good to watch people greet him. To tell him how much they loved the woodworking he did. And the more uncomfortable he got with the praise, the more Joy relished it.

      He’d been too long in his comfort zone of solitude. He’d made himself an island, and swimming to the mainland would be exhausting. But it would so be worth the trip.

      “I’ve never owned anything as beautiful as that bowl you made,” Elinor Cummings gushed, laying one hand on Sam’s shoulder in benediction. She was in her fifties, with graying black hair that had been ruthlessly sprayed into submission.

      “Thanks.” He shot Joy a look that promised payback in the very near future. She wasn’t worried. Like an injured animal, Sam would snarl and growl at anyone who came too close. But he wouldn’t bite.

      “I love what you did with the bowl. The rough outside, looks as though you just picked it up off the forest floor—” Elinor continued.

      “I did,” Sam said, clearly hoping to cut her off, but pasting a polite, if strained, smile on his face.

      “—and the inside looks like a jewel,” she continued, undeterred from lavishing him with praise. “All of those lovely colors in the grain of that wood, all so polished, and it just gleams in the light.” She planted one hand against her chest and gave a sigh. “It’s simply lovely. Two sides of life,” she mused, “that’s what it says to me, two sides, the hard and the good, the sad and the glad. It’s lovely. Just lovely.”

      “All right now, Ellie,” her husband said, with an understanding wink for Sam and Joy, “let’s let the man eat. Good to meet you, Sam.”

      Sam nodded, then reached for the beer in front of him and took a long pull. The Cummingses had been just the last in a long stream of people who’d stopped by their table to greet Joy and meet Sam. Every damn one of them had given him a look that said Ah, the hermit. That’s what he looks like!

      And then had come the speculative glances, as they wondered whether Sam and Joy were a couple, and that irritated him, as well. This was what happened when you met people. They started poking their noses into your life and pretty soon, that life was open season to anyone with a sense of curiosity. As the last of the strangers went back to their own tables, he glared at Joy.

      “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

      In the light of the candle at their table, her eyes sparkled as she grinned. “I could try to deny it, but why bother? Yes, I am. It’s good to see you actually forced to talk to people. And Elinor clearly loves your work. Isn’t it nice to hear compliments?”

      “It’s a bowl.” He sighed. “Nothing deep or meaningful to the design. Just a bowl. People always want to analyze, interpret what the artist meant. Sometimes a bowl is just a bowl.”

      She laughed and shook her head. “You can’t fool me. I’ve seen your stuff in Crafty. Nothing about what you make is ‘just’ anything. People love your work, and if you gave them half a chance, they’d like you, too.”

      “And I want that because...”

      “Because it’s better than being a recluse.” Joy leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the table. “Honestly, Sam, you can’t stay on the mountain by yourself forever.”

      He hated admitting even to himself that she was right. Hell, he’d talked more, listened more, in the last couple of weeks than he had in years. His house wasn’t empty. Wasn’t filled with the careful quiet СКАЧАТЬ