Compromising Positions (13 page)

He grasped her waist, his fingers holding her firmly against him. They'd made love in so many different ways, and along the way, she'd learned to read his responses, to know when he was close. There were certain things that drove him over the edge quickly and others that he could enjoy for a long, lazy afternoon.

Sam was so adventurous when it came to sex that Amelia found herself caught up in his pleasure. She wasn't embarrassed to express her own needs, something she would never have done in the past. Sex was pleasure and passion and perfection, and it was something that belonged to the two of them.

Amelia started to move at a quick pace and Sam growled softly, his fingers digging into her hips. A moment later he arched against her, his body tense and aching for release. He seemed to linger there, at the very edge, for longer than he ever had before.

And then the powerful shudder shook his body and the orgasm took hold. He drove into her, even deeper than before, and Amelia enjoyed the power she held over his body.

They'd exchanged the battle for the bed into a battle for sexual satisfaction. Control ebbed and flowed between them, each generous in the give and greedy in the take.

There were endless possibilities in their passion and Amelia wondered if there was enough time to explore them all before she got too old for sex. She stared down at him, and when Sam opened his eyes, she smiled.

“We should take a little break before you kill me,” he said.

She crawled off him, fetched a box she'd left on the table and brought it back to the bed. “You could help me with these,” she said. She dumped the box on the bed and he picked up a bag of candy-coated almonds and tore it open.

Amelia took the bag from him. “You can't eat those. They're for the table favors.”

“What are table favors?” Sam asked.

“For the wedding,” she explained. “They're just little treats that you spread around the tables. People can munch on them or take them home. Here, I'll show you.”

She cut out a square of tulle and dumped a handful of the pastel-colored almonds in the center. Pulling up the corners, she made a little bag and tied the top with a lavender ribbon. “The bride's colors are pale lavender and ice blue.”

“Her colors?”

Amelia giggled. “You don't know anything about planning a wedding, do you?”

“Am I supposed to? When do they teach you about stuff like this? I've never seen purple almonds before. Where do you get these?”

“They're traditional,” she said. “Weddings are filled with tradition.”

“And this is all written down somewhere in some official book?”

She handed him scissors and a piece of tulle. “Lots of books. Just follow that piece as a pattern.”

Sam sat up and crossed his legs in front him. He spread the quilt over his lap and turned his attention to the wispy netting. “You like this stuff, don't you?”

“Every girl dreams about her wedding,” she murmured. “When my mother hired a wedding planner, I was crushed. I wanted to do the whole thing myself.”

“Why didn't you?”

“The guest list was over six hundred people, remember. And with the budget that comes along with so many people, Mother wanted to turn it over to a professional. It was for the best, though.”

“Why is that?”

“Maybe, if I had planned it myself, I would have been more willing to go through with it. And getting married would have been a mistake.”

“Just with that guy, though, right?”

Amelia thought about his question for a long moment and shrugged. “I don't know. I've spent so much of my life trying to please someone else while they tried to control every aspect of my life. My parents. And then Edward to a lesser extent. I don't want to live my life worried that I'm not living up to someone else's standards.”

“That sounds like a pretty strong argument against happily-ever-after,” he said.

“Who says you can't live happily ever after without being married?” Sam handed her a square of tulle and she smiled. “Good. That's nice. What about you? Do you ever think about getting married?”

“I think about
being
married,” Sam said. “Not so much about
getting
married.”

“That's the way to do it,” she said. “The wedding is just a big party. The marriage is for the rest of your life.”

“And that's the problem,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Who'd want to be a part of my nightmare?”

“Is it really that bad?”

“I've had three semi-serious relationships since I took over the inn. And they were all with women who thought running an inn was the most romantic profession in the world. Until they realized that you actually have to run an inn when you're an innkeeper. It doesn't run itself. They all opted out shortly after finding out it wasn't all that romantic.”

She shook her head, smiling. “Aren't we a sad pair. No almonds for us.” She held up a completed favor and then dropped it into a small box. “I sound so cynical.”

“I don't know. Maybe we're being realistic,” Sam said.

She leaned over and dropped a kiss onto his lips. “After this, will you help me polish silverware?”

“You're a guest here. How is it you've been assigned chores?”

Amelia shrugged. “I can't leave with this snow, and Sarah needs help, so I offered to give her a hand with the chores. This is an important weekend for the inn.”

Sam slowly shook his head. “I can't understand how any man would ever let you go.”

The words hung between them for a long time and Amelia wasn't sure she wanted to explain all that had happened between her and Edward. There were still times when she questioned her decision to leave him. He was a good man and he'd wanted nothing but the best for her.

“He didn't let me go,” she said. “I walked away.”

“No regrets?”

“Of course I have regrets,” Amelia said. “I hurt him. I regret that. I think he really does love me, in his own way. I'm just not sure that he isn't settling. Someday he'll meet a woman who'll knock him off his feet and he'll understand passion and desire.”

“He still loves you?”

Amelia wanted to change the subject, but she knew once Sam asked a question, he usually required an answer. “I believe so.”

“How can you be sure?”

She carefully tied a ribbon on another bag of almonds. “We...we haven't really broken up. Not officially. Not technically. We're just...taking a break.”

Sam stared at her for a long moment. “I don't get it. Either you're together or you aren't. You can't—”

“We aren't,” Amelia insisted.

“You say you aren't. What would Edward say?”

She avoided his gaze, turning back to the almonds spread on the quilt in front of her. She began to sort them by color. “I have no idea what he'd say. I just didn't want to hurt him. He's a good guy and he's just trying to please his family. I told him I needed time. He said he'd wait till I was ready to come back.”

“How long has it been?”

“Almost a year.”

“That's a mighty big torch to be carrying,” he said.

Sam dropped back on the bed, throwing his arm over his eyes. “What are we doing here, Millie? And don't say we're making wedding favors.” He looked over at her. “Is this just going to end when you go home to Boston?”

“I think it has to.”

“Because you're still engaged to Edward.”

“We're not engaged,” Amelia said. “There's just this tiny string that we haven't snipped yet. A single string, nothing more.”

“All right, you're not engaged,” Sam corrected. “He still is.”

“That doesn't change anything between us. It doesn't make me feel any differently about you than I did before. And it has nothing to do with our situation. This has to end because I need my own life.”

Sam crawled out of bed and began to gather his clothes from the floor. Amelia didn't know what to say to him. They hadn't made any commitments to each other. And she was sure that he was having as hard of a time as she was trying to picture how they could make a relationship work.

There was no doubt that she cared about him. And it wasn't impossible to believe she might be in love with him. But they'd known each other for less than a week. How could someone possibly be sure of their true feelings in such a short time?

“I should check in with Sarah and see what's going on.”

Amelia rolled off the bed and crossed the room to where he stood. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged her body to his. He was so warm, so strong. She didn't want to think about what her life would be like without him. But Amelia knew better than anyone that romantic relationships had to conform to the realities of everyday life. She'd tried to picture a life here in Millhaven or a life with Sam in Boston and she'd failed.

Love wasn't simple. Even in the best of circumstances—with time and money and family support—it didn't always work out. Add in their issues and it was impossible. She took his hand and led him to the bed, pulling him down beside her.

“I can't say what's going to happen with us,” she said. “I don't think you can, either. We can only wait and see. Hopefully we won't put pressure on each other to make it something it truly isn't.”

“I need to know it isn't going to end when you drive away. Promise me.”

She pushed up on her toes and kissed his lips. “I promise. I have to bring the bed back, remember. We'll talk again then.”

He covered her mouth with his, pulling her into a deep kiss. This was no longer a simple affair. Feelings had changed, strings had been attached and Sam was no longer existing in the present. He'd been thinking about the future.

Everything had changed. From this moment on, Amelia wasn't just a friend with benefits. She was Sam Blackstone's lover. He was in her life now and he wasn't sure he wanted to leave. But Amelia wasn't convinced he really wanted her to stay, either.

7

T
HE
V
ALENTINE
'
S
D
AY
nor'easter was turning into one for the record books. The snow had been falling continuously for more than forty-eight hours, blowing into drifts that had closed roads and made travel nearly impossible.

The trains were still running, though no one was sure when that might change. For now, the wedding party was due to arrive at 6:33 p.m. on the Empire Builder out of Penn Station. James had agreed to help ferry the guests from the station to the inn, and Sarah and Amelia were working on a late buffet supper for the group to enjoy upon their arrival.

Sam had grabbed James to help with splitting additional wood that would be needed for the fireplaces in each room. They'd bundled up and headed for the woodpile stacked against the rear wall of the stone kitchen.

They'd worked out a nice rhythm, with James balancing logs on the block and Sam splitting them into three pieces. They didn't speak, just worked, and Sam was grateful for the silence. He had enough on his mind to make idle conversation.

“Do you want me to split the wood for a while?” James shouted over the blustery wind.

“Do you want to?” Sam asked.

“I could use the exercise.”

Sam nodded and handed the ax to James, then took his spot next to the block. To his surprise, James handled the ax as well as he did. He'd always considered the plumber a bit of a goof, but the more he got to know him, the more he liked about the other man. He was quiet and humble, clever and witty, and he knew a helluva lot more about fixing stuff than Sam ever would.

“That's enough,” Sam shouted after another ten minutes of chopping. Each room had already been stocked with enough wood for the night. They'd leave the extra in canvas slings on the back porch, ready to be delivered to the rooms when needed.

As they worked at this task, James began to chat about the weather. But the more he rattled on about low pressure systems and upper atmosphere moisture, the more Sam wanted to ask him about Sarah. There was no decent segue into the conversation, so Sam just blurted out his question. “What are your intentions with my sister?”

James didn't seem surprised by the question and he grinned. “I fully intend to marry that girl. I planned to ask your father if that was all right, but since he isn't around, I suppose I should ask you.”

“Don't you think this is a little quick?”

“I've known her since I was a freshman in high school. That's when I fell in love with her for the first time. So, as far as I'm concerned, we've known each other long enough.”

“You seem so sure,” Sam said.

“No doubts.”

“But how can you be so certain?”

“I try to imagine my life without her,” James said. “And I don't like the way it looks.”

“You've got a good job,” Sam said.

“I enjoy working around the inn, too. I can help you with a lot of the jobs here. Sarah wants to raise a family in Millhaven.”

Sam had never really talked about the future with his sister. He was thankful for every day she stuck around to help him, assuming she stayed only out of duty and guilt. But apparently she was happy with her life in Millhaven.

“Hell, this inn is a great place to raise a family.”

Sam shook his head. Sarah had never even mentioned her dreams of having a family. In truth, he'd assumed she hated working at the inn as much as he did.

James pushed to his feet and brushed the snow off the back of his jeans. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I'm trying to decide about a ring. It's Valentine's Day tomorrow and I can't decide whether I should give her the ring I bought or if I should take her to pick one out.”

“Wait! When did you buy a ring for her?”

“Four years ago. When she came back to Millhaven after college.”

“I gotta give you credit. You know what you want. But I think it might be a little too early to ask her. You've only just started...” Sam paused. “Have you even had a date?”

James frowned. “Not exactly. You're saying I should ask her on a date first.”

“Yeah, I mean, that's usually the way it goes.”

James thought about that for a long moment, then shook his head. “Nah, I'm just going to get right to it. I'm going to propose. There's always time to date after she says yes.”

“What if she doesn't say yes?”

He shrugged. “I'll just keep asking until she does. I'm sure she's the one. I'm not going to let her get away.”

Sam couldn't help but admire the guy's resolve. He knew what he wanted and he was willing to risk everything to get it. And unlike most men, James was also ready to accept failure and had already come up with a contingency plan.

As they stacked the wood on the porch, Sam began to think about his options with Amelia. He'd always assumed that a marriage proposal to any woman would come after a long and steady relationship and careful consideration of her enthusiasm for inn-keeping.

He'd never considered making a proposal partially for shock value. But at least with a proposal, she'd be forced to weigh him and Edward equally. Then again, she might also just laugh in his face, and unlike James, Sam wasn't sure his ego would survive that kind of response.

“Why don't you go back inside and give Sarah a hand?” Sam said. “I'll finish up here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Tell Amelia I'll be in soon.”

As he continued to stack firewood, Sam considered his next move. When he and Amelia were in bed together, it seemed as if everything was perfect. She needed him and wanted him. He was the only person who could satisfy her. But sex wasn't everything. Hell, until recently, she was ready to marry a man who was mediocre in the bedroom.

It was obvious that she considered other things more important than passion. Things such as independence. And she'd admitted that she hadn't completely broken things off with Edward. Did that mean she hadn't quite rejected her parents' values, either? That she still wanted someone with financial security and family connections? Who had social standing and an Ivy League education? Unfortunately he fell short in a few of those areas. Hell, he fell short in all of them.

So, he was good in bed. He had that going on, but that was about it. And he could split wood. He doubted that Edward could manage that with his soft, little city-boy hands.

“What are you doing out here!”

Sam turned to find Amelia standing on the back porch, bundled in one of Sarah's down jackets and a pair of fleece-lined boots. A scarf covered most of her face. He'd never seen anything quite so cute.

“Stacking firewood,” he said. “I suspect there are going to be plenty of fires laid this weekend. Fires are so romantic.”

She came up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Yes, they are. And there's a lovely one burning in the front parlor right now. Why don't you come and enjoy it with me for a bit before you have to go pick up your guests?”

“I have to finish this,” he said.

“Then I'll help you,” she said. She followed him to the stone kitchen and began to gather wood, tucking the logs beneath her arms.

“You don't have to do that,” he said.

“I want to help you,” she said.

“Go back inside, Amelia. I can finish this on my own.” She refused to listen to him, and as he watched her stumble through the snow, Sam felt his anger build. She'd grown up in the lap of luxury. She'd probably had servants to wait on her hand and foot. There was a standard of living that she was accustomed to and it was a far cry from what he could ever offer her.

As she walked to the stone kitchen, Sam grabbed her. She shrieked and dropped the wood. He picked her up off her feet, tossed her over his shoulder and carried her to the porch. “Go inside.”

Stubbornly she shook her head. The moment he turned, Amelia raced past him toward the pile of logs. But the snow was too deep and she tripped and fell face-first into the soft powder. Sam hurried to her side and she rolled over, her face covered with snow and the sound of her laughter drifting on the wind.

“I tripped,” she said, wiping the snow out of her eyes.

“You could have hurt yourself,” he said. “Broken a bone or knocked your teeth out.”

She grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at his face. “Oh, lighten up. It's snow. It's supposed to be fun.”

He tried to grab her arm to pull her to her feet, but she threw another handful of snow at him. Sam threw his leg over her waist, pinning her to the ground, then grabbed her wrists and held them on either side of her head.

“I'm not going to kiss you,” she said, giggling.

“And I'm not going to kiss you,” he said.

She wriggled beneath him, trying to escape. But she was laughing so hard, she could barely catch her breath. She was so beautiful his heart ached when he looked at her. He'd never wanted a woman more than he wanted her. But he had no idea how to keep her.

“Why are you still here?” he asked.

“Because you're sitting on top of me,” she said, slapping him on the chest.

“No. I mean why are you still here in Millhaven? We came to a compromise on the bed. So why haven't you gone home to Boston?”

Her expression shifted as she heard the frustration in his voice. She stared at him for a long moment, her gaze fixed to his, and this time, when she tried to get up, Sam rolled to the side to allow it.

Amelia got to her feet. “I—I thought you wanted me to stay a little longer. And you said you were considering our compromise on the bed. You never told me that you'd made the final decision.”

“And what if I had? What if I'd said, ‘Go ahead. Take the bed.' Would you have left?”

She tugged at the scarf around her neck, then with a soft curse ripped it off and threw it into the snow. “You're talking in circles. Why are you angry with me?”

“I'm not angry,” Sam said, heading toward the inn.

She followed him as he strode through the snow.

When he reached the porch, he stopped. “Go inside. We'll talk about this later.”

He felt her hand on his shoulder and he slowly turned to face her. Tiny drops of melted snow clung to her lashes and her cheeks were pink from the cold. Sam fought the impulse to drag her into his arms and kiss her.

“Why won't you let me help you? I don't understand you at all,” she said, shaking her head.

“Welcome to the club,” he muttered. “'Cause I'm not sure who the hell I am right now, either.”

“You're a stubborn man who would rather be a martyr than be happy.”

With that, Amelia turned and walked inside, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

T
HE
REMAINDER
OF
the day was a mad rush of activity. The guests arrived just after 7:00 p.m. and Amelia helped Sarah with check-in while Sam showed the guests to their rooms and James brought them their luggage.

There was barely a moment to think about the confrontation she and Sam had in the backyard. Amelia wasn't even sure what it was all about. First he wanted her to stay and now he was wondering why she hadn't left. He'd never fully agreed to give her the bed, but suddenly he had. He felt threatened by Edward but couldn't see that her reservations had nothing to do with Sam's pedigree.

The bride and groom arrived in a whirlwind of snow and excitement. They were both profusely grateful for Sam's flexibility in making their wedding work in the middle of a nor'easter. Sarah and Amelia explained the details, menus, wedding décor and a finalized schedule, while the bridal couple nodded their agreement.

Every now and then, Amelia caught Sam's gaze from across the room. His emotions were much harder to read. They served a buffet dinner in the dining room and the group had scattered themselves between the common rooms, talking and laughing. When the bride and groom retired to their separate rooms, the rest of the party gradually made their way to their own rooms, leaving a peaceful silence behind them.

Amelia stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing dessert plates as Sarah loaded them in the dishwasher. “I think that went very well,” Sarah said.

“I think so, too,” Amelia agreed.

“Thank you for all your help. I'm not sure what I would have done without you.”

“I didn't do that much,” Amelia replied.

“Yes, you did. And it was more fun working with someone. I had a really good time.”

“It was nice that your friend stuck around to help.” Amelia frowned. “Where is James?”

“I sent him to bed.” Sarah smiled. “My bed.” She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, then jumped up to sit on the edge of the counter. “The more he hangs around, the more I realize how...adorable he is. Why has it taken me so long to notice?”

“Maybe there's a right moment for everyone. A moment when two people are completely open to falling in love. Like a tiny window of time where all the stars align perfectly and all the wishes you've had for your life come true. Maybe you and James are just...there.”

Sarah nodded. “I never even considered him and now he's all I can think about. He's sweet and kind and funny. And he says I'm beautiful and interesting and smart. I'm falling in love with him.”

“Really?”

Sarah nodded. “And I can't seem to stop smiling.”

“I'm going to finish up here. Why don't you go find your James and tell him exactly what you told me?”

“Yeah? You think I should tell him?”

Amelia nodded. “Always trust your heart.” It had been the only thing that had gotten her through her breakup with Edward. Deep in her heart, she'd known marrying him would be wrong. And she'd tried to convince him of that. But he'd refused to accept the truth, certain that she'd realize her mistake and come back to him.