Love Finds You in North Pole, Alaska (22 page)

She found Bryce in his workshop, bent over a tool bench. He barely looked up when she crossed from the big double doors to the table that held a dozen awls and chisels, saws and drills. “Brought you some coffee,” she said, “just the way you like it.” And holding up a brown paper bag, Sam added, “Made you a tuna sandwich, too. Where would you like me to—”

“Just leave it over there.” Using a Phillips head screwdriver, he pointed at the one bare spot on the table.

She decided to ignore his rude response. Maybe, like her dad, he didn’t appreciate being interrupted while he was working.

Sam spotted a battered clock radio on the shelf behind him and walked over to it. “Does this thing pull in any decent stations?” she asked, reaching for the On button.

“Yeah, it does. But I’d rather not listen right now…if you don’t mind.”

Was that his way of telling her he didn’t intend to cave to her control, as he had the night she’d prayed for him and Olive? Sam inhaled, determined to give it one more shot. “I baked brownies this morning and wrapped a couple in foil for you.” She shrugged. “Dessert, you could call it, for after you finish your—”

“Was that a delivery truck I saw out back this morning?”

“Yeah, bringing the Christmas cards Olive ordered right before she—”

“Have you unpacked them already?”

“Well, not entirely. I’m still trying to rearrange the stock, so I can group like items together. Customers have a much easier time finding what they’re looking for if—”

“And the stuff that came yesterday? Is it all inventoried and labeled and ready for the shelves?”

Was Bryce deliberately testing the limits of her patience, or did it just seem like he wanted to get a rise out of her? She’d come in here with nothing but good intentions. If this was an example of how he’d treated Olive after he came home from the war, well, the woman had a stronger constitution than Sam had given her credit for. “ ‘Love is patient, love is kind,’ ” she whispered through clenched teeth. “ ‘Love is patient, love is kind…’ ”

The brow above his eye patch raised slightly as he asked, “What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing.” And in a brighter, louder voice, Sam added, “I’ll be in the shop if you need me.” She stomped to the door and resisted the urge to slam it. Thought about snarling, “You’re welcome for lunch!” but bit her tongue. Felt like stomping right back up to him and planting a big juicy kiss on his lips.

Now
there
was an idea…

What started as a little smirk had grown into a full-blown smile by the time Sam stood directly in front of him. She paid no attention to his shocked expression. Instead, she pressed a palm to each of his cheeks and stood on tiptoe.

When Bryce realized what she aimed to do, he leaned backward. “But…but I had an onion bagel for breakfast,” he said, “and haven’t brushed my—”

She felt his shoulders tense as their lips met, heard a soft sigh escape his lungs. Slowly, one of his big hands moved to cup the back of her head as the other pressed gently into the small of her back. And, just as he started to really respond to the kiss…Sam stepped back and gave his broad chest a
pat-pat-pat.

“There’s more where that came from, if you can get over your grumpy self,” she said. Then she turned on her heel and marched toward the exit, knowing she’d see his stunned expression every time she closed her eyes.

And the thought made her giggle all the way back to Rudolph’s.

Bryce stared at the door for a full minute, wondering if Sam might come back and finish what she’d started. When she didn’t, he figured he had nobody to blame but himself. How in the world she’d summoned the patience to put up with his little pity fest, he didn’t know. But he couldn’t help grinning and thanking the good Lord that she had.

He’d often imagined what it might be like…holding her close, kissing her…but the vision paled by comparison to the real thing. Bryce licked his lips, knowing he’d taste that kiss for hours. He’d no doubt hear her parting comment in his head a couple hundred times, too, and that made him smile even wider.

Show a little class
, he told himself.
Go to the shop and apologize for acting like a jerk
.

He glanced at his workbench, where miscellaneous pegs and boards lay scattered among sawdust and shavings. Fortunately, Sam hadn’t seemed to notice the well-sanded wood he’d turn into a gift, just for her. But even if she hadn’t built up a solid head of steam after delivering his lunch, it wasn’t likely she’d know what all the pieces and parts would become, once he’d sanded and polished them to perfection.

Eyeing the brown bag amid it all, Bryce shook his head. How like her to remember that he’d confessed how often he forgot to eat when a project was under way. If he knew Sam, she’d worked her special brand of kitchen magic on everything, from the sandwich to the brownies. It didn’t surprise him, when he opened the rumpled sack, to find that she’d added potato chips, a pickle, and a juice box. Or that she’d scribbled a note on the neatly folded napkin. Something to keep the grumbling at bay. And she’d signed it with her by-now familiar smiley face.

Bryce shook his head, amazed that somebody as sweet and big-hearted, as smart and funny as Sam could be interested in a disfigured grump like himself. But he held in his hands proof-positive that she was. “Lord,” he said out loud, “I don’t know what I ever did in my miserable life to deserve her, but if You’ll tell me what it was, I’ll do it over and over, to guarantee I never lose her.”

“That’s about the smartest thing I’ve heard anybody say about my baby sister.”

Bryce lurched slightly in response to Bill’s voice.

“Sorry, man,” he said, ambling up to the work bench, “didn’t mean to startle you.” Chuckling, he added, “But in all honesty, it would’ve been tough
not
to, deep as you were in la-la-land.”

“Blame that sister of yours,” Bryce said. “She’s turned my brain to mush.”

“Ha. Never thought I’d hear a big bad marine admit a thing like
that
.”

Bryce chuckled. “Never thought I’d
say
a thing like that.”

“Does she know yet?”

“Know what?”

“That you’re nuts about her.”

Bryce considered denying it. “If my idiotic behavior hasn’t signaled her…”

“She’s a lot of things, that kid sister of mine, but ‘mind reader’ isn’t one of ’em.”

“Tell you the truth, Bill, I was asking myself right before you walked in here what in the world the girl sees in me—”

“So I heard.”

Another shrug, then, “—’cause I’m not exactly a prize.”

It was Bill’s turn to shrug. “So what are you working on there?”

Bryce told Bill what he’d planned for Sam’s birthday, and since her brother seemed mildly interested in the shop, Bryce gave him a tour. He described each gizmo and gadget and listed the tools on his “wish list” that would help him turn his carpentry dream into reality. “Only way any of that can happen,” he admitted, “is if I sell Rudolph’s.”

“If the market is as tight here as it is back East, I don’t envy you.”

Nodding, Bryce said, “I’ve had one decent offer, but I turned it down.”

Bill didn’t understand why, and said so.

“Because the offer came from Dan Brooks, that clown who gave your sister’s job to his scrawny nephew, for one thing. I’m the first to admit the place isn’t much, but God only knows what that greedy fool would do to it.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Besides, where will Sam work if I sell it?”

“Hey, don’t get me wrong…I admire your loyalty, but business is business. Sam would understand that. Did she tell you how she pretty much paid her own way through college, and how she worked her fingers to the bone to help that loser fiancé of hers build his construction company from the ground up?”

“No,” he said. But the information didn’t surprise him.

“We used to call her ‘Jane of all trades, master of none’ because she worked at so many jobs.” The memory inspired a quiet chuckle. “That girl did everything from waiting tables to bagging groceries to managing a video store. There were times we only saw her on major holidays, and even then, just long enough to hug everybody and scarf down a quick meal.”

“And I’ll bet she managed to get straight A’s the whole time.”

Bill nodded. “Not only that, but she double-majored.” On the heels of an admiring sigh, he added, “She’s something else, that sister of mine.”

Bryce couldn’t have agreed more.

“So when will you tell her?”

“How I feel about her, y’mean?”

Another nod.

“Just between you and me, I don’t know that I will.” Bryce held up a hand to halt Bill’s protest. “Because she deserves more than a one-eyed jarhead who can’t get his mind out of Afghanistan.”

“Can’t,” Bill said, “or won’t?”

“Does it matter? Bottom line is…I’m not good enough for her.”

Bill crossed both arms over his chest. “You sure you were a marine?”

Bryce didn’t need to hear more to know what Sam’s brother meant. Marines had a reputation for being tough and uncomplaining, and his confession sounded more like self-pity than a rational explanation for not telling Sam how he felt about her. “Sounds like whining, I know, but it isn’t. Last thing I want to do is burden her with my—”

“She’s not one of your recruits. If you respect her as much as you say you do, don’t you think you owe it to her to let
her
make the choice?”

It was a good point. Still…

“You probably know this already, but Sam is never happier than when she’s doing something for people she cares about.”

Bryce emptied the contents of the lunch bag onto his workbench. “Don’t I know it,” he said. Then, “Had lunch?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Bill said, scooting a stool closer to the table.

As they ate, the men swapped stories of Bill’s days in Iraq and Bryce’s tours of duty in Afghanistan. And by the time they divided up the brownies she’d baked, they realized they had far more in common than their fierce, protective love for Samantha Sinclair.

She’d left explicit instructions for every member of her family that they were not, under any circumstances, to tell Joey Michaels where she’d gone, lest he get the misguided notion she’d had to run all the way to Alaska to escape the hurt and humiliation of their breakup. “How did you find me?” Sam demanded.

“Your best friend Marsha told me,” he said, “when she found out I broke it off with—”

“I’m working, Joe,” she snapped. Maybe hearing her call him that, instead of the more affectionate “Joey,” would send the clear message that she didn’t want to hear the story of his heartbreak…and spare him from the “What goes around comes around” that was on the tip of her tongue.

“You never asked me where I’m calling from.”

“Frankly, Joe, I don’t care where you’re calling from.” She warned herself to be careful. Too much ire and he’d think she’d been pining away for him; too little and he’d get the idea their relationship could be repaired. And it most definitely could
not.

“I’m in Anchorage.”

“Hundreds of miles from where I am,” she pointed out. But curiosity prompted her to ask, “On business, I hope?”

Joey explained how he’d sold his construction company to a high-profile developer with offices in almost every state in the union, and they’d asked him to spend a few months opening an office in Alaska. “I was hoping you’d let me buy you dinner, so I could at least try and show you how sorry I am for—”

“Listen, it’s over and done with, okay? Forgiven and forgotten.” And it was the truth. She’d never been happier, never felt more fulfilled, than since she’d moved to North Pole. Sam knew that if Joey hadn’t left her when he did, she’d still be in Baltimore, catering to his every whim…and getting nothing but grief in return. “I absolutely love it here. The good Lord has blessed me in more ways than I can count.”

“Are you, uh, seeing anyone?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Not the whole truth, but not exactly a lie, either. She saw Bryce every day, didn’t she?

“Is he treating you well?”

“You bet he is.” Also true, too…if she didn’t count these past few days.

“How’s the family?”