Page 94 of Dallas

She pulled out of his embrace. “I’m going to make you some cupcakes.”

Chapter Two

Somehow, Jace had ended up with two guests for dinner. One beautiful. One decidedly not and lying far too close to the table for his liking.

But Sam had made dinner, in addition to the cupcakes from earlier, and that meant he couldn’t flip his lid over the damn hairy dog sprawled out nearby while he was trying to eat.

“Guess what,” Sam said, beaming, her round pale cheeks downright cherubic. Ironic, considering she made him think of sin, not salvation.

“What?”

“I had German chocolate cake leftover at the bakery. And a lemon cream pie. And now they’re in your fridge.”

He took a bite of homemade bread. “I appreciate it.” He really did. Samantha was the best baker around, in his opinion. She’d also been the best personal chef, the best hairdresser, and the best dog groomer. Not necessarily in that order.

Samantha was always bursting. With ideas. With talent.It was the settling that was hard for her. The follow-through. But then, given her upbringing he could hardly blame her. By the time she’d come to Bend at the age of sixteen, she’d lived in nine states and twenty-one cities. She and her mother had rented the apartment above the mercantile where Jace worked, and he’d clicked with her instantly.

It had started, he could admit now, as a case of insta-lust like a corn-fed country boy had never known before. She was new and bright. She wore eclectic clothes and had hair that seemed to glow in the sun.

When she’d turned seventeen, she’d shown up at his parents’ house, much like she’d done tonight at his own house, in tears, telling him she didn’t want to move. That her mother had found a job in Washington state and was going north.

Mrs. Brown, who owned the mercantile, had let Sam stay on in the upstairs apartment. She had a way of taking in stray people and making them feel like they belonged. She’d done the same for him when she’d given him his first job.

Mrs. Brown let Sam live there rent free so she could finish school, so she could remain in the town she felt a part of.

It was too bad Jace hadn’t bought the store from Mrs. Brown when she’d offered, or Sam could have stayed in the old apartment. But when she’d been ready to retire and spend half the year in a warmer climate, his ranch had just been getting off the ground and he hadn’t been willing to take his focus off of his new enterprise for a moment.

It was, by extension, his fault that Sam and Poppy were bunking with him. Not that he minded Sam’s presence so much.

Unless you brought the sexual frustration issue into thepicture. Though even when she wasn’t staying with him, she did a pretty good job of sexually frustrating the ever-loving hell out of him. Just last week they’d curled up on her couch to watch an action movie. And she’d put the damned popcorn bowl. In. His. Lap.

The ceramic shield over his cock was the equivalent of a Kevlar vest pitted against a 30-06 rifle. Not. Fucking. Helpful.

The constant promise of a hand job with no satisfaction. And she’d had no idea. She’d been all involved in the movie while he’d sat there with a hard-on so intense he was a little afraid it would break the popcorn bowl.

Yeah, so...he was already in hell where she was concerned.

Now hell had moved in. Complete with hound.

His own little ginger specter of sexual doom.

And none of that was fair because Samantha needed a friend. But not a friend who was hiding an erection that wouldn’t quit and casting aspersions on the round suppleness of her breasts.

Not right now. Which meant getting a grip on himself—literally in the shower if need be—and moving on without blaming her for what a sick freaking puppy he was where she was concerned.

“And tomorrow I’ll make you pancakes for breakfast,” she practically chirped. In truth, it had been a long time since a woman had made him breakfast. But usually when one did, it was a much-needed refueling after a night of sex. Not so for tomorrow’s pancakes.

He repeated that to himself. Enough times and his body might get the message.

“Great, but you don’t have to pay rent, Sam, in money or infoodstuffs.”

“No, I know. But I figured that I should do something. If not for you, Poppy and I wouldn’t have anywhere to go.”

He knew better than to suggest she not tie her fate to her pet. That would get the batter of his morning pancakes sneezed in.

“So where are your things? Do you need help moving?”

“All of my things are in the delivery van.”

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