Page 81 of No One Wants That (Blitzen Bay)

“Kit!” Sam looks up at her. His patented warm smile filling his face. “What a lovely surprise.”

I wrap my arm around Kit’s waist as she lunges toward Trip. “What are you doing with Sam?”

The man sitting next to Trip stands and raises his hand into her face. “And who are you?”

I pull her behind me and bend his wrist back just to the point of breaking it. He yelps and tries to pull away from me.

I let go of his wrist slowly and point at him. “Don’t put your hands anywhere near her again. Do you understand? I’ll break it next time.”

He nods and whips his hands behind his back. “I’m Jon Clarkson. I’m Mr. Walker’s attorney. If you don’t mind, we’re trying to complete a business transaction.”

“Sam,” I say, softening my expression as I look over at him. “What’s going on here?”

Sam’s face twists up—the worry lines on his forehead getting deeper. “This is the man I told you about—Horace Walker. I’m selling Blitzen Bay to him.”

“What? The hell you are!” Kit jumps out from behind me and slides into the seat next to Sam. “Did he tell you that he’s Elle’s ex-fiancé’s dad?”

Sam’s face drops. He looks at Trip. “What? You know Noelle?”

Trip leans back in his chair. “Who I know or don’t know has nothing to do with our business arrangement.”

“It has everything to do with it,” Kit hisses at Trip. “Trip or Horace or whatever the hell his name is hates Elle. He despises her. She ditched his son at the altar. Trip’s been trying to get back at her ever since.”

“My client is not buying a town to get back at some girl,” Jon says. “Sam, you’ve already signed the letter of intent to sell. We agreed on a price with you and your attorney. This meeting is just to finalize the deal.”

Jon pushes a folder over to Sam. Kit picks it up and holds it against her chest. “Sam, don’t sign anything more until you talk to Nash and Elle. Please.”

The attorney reaches toward Kit to get the folder. “As I said—”

I grab his wrist. “What did I just say about your hands?”

He pulls his hands back and puts them on the table. “As I said, this document is just a formality. Sam, you’ve already agreed to the price. According to the letter of intent that you signed electronically, to get out of this deal, you would have to find someone to buy the town for more than this offer. You’re never going to do that. Mr. Walker has made you a very generous offer—way too generous in my opinion.”

Sam looks from Jon to Kit and then up at me. “I don’t want to sell Blitzen to anyone who hates sweet Noelle.”

“Sam,” I say, pulling Kit up from her chair. “Don’t sign anything more until you talk to Nash and Elle. Let’s go back to Blitzen and you can think about it a little bit more.”

“He can think all he wants,” Trip says, “but he’s already committed. No one’s going to be crazy enough to offer you more than the ten million I offered. It’s a done deal.”

Sam stands up and takes the folder away from Kit. He throws it on the table. “I’m not signing the final contract today. My attorney will be in contact with you.”

He walks across the patio—his head up, trying to look as confident as possible, but his hands are shaking at his sides. Kit and I follow him to his car.

“Sam,” Kit says, taking the car keys from him. “Let me drive you home. Butch can follow us.”

“I should say I’m okay to drive,” he says, looking up at me, “but I’m not sure I am.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a beautiful woman drive you home,” I say, smiling as I open his door. “Let’s get you back to Blitzen and we can figure it out.”

He nods and slips into his seat. When I close his door, I see a tear dropping down his cheek.

“Do you know where you’re going?” I say, looking over at Kit. “Or do you want to follow me?”

“I’ll follow you. Let’s go directly to his house. He lives next door to Nash. Will you call Nash on the way and tell him what’s going on? I’m going to try to calm Sam down.”

“I’ve got you,” I say. “Honk if you want me to slow down or anything although I’m guessing you drive faster than I do.”

She blows me a kiss as I walk to my car. I dial Elle’s number as I slide into my seat.

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