Sweet Haven (The Sweet Series Book 2) (11 page)

“I just said he has nothing to do with it. This is between Sam and me. So mind your own fucking business.”

“All right, both of you, calm the fuck down,” Austin snaps, his voice coming through louder than the two of ours. “Look, Crawford, we’re just surprised is all. It’s no secret you don’t like that family, Sam included.”

“When the hell did I ever say I didn’t like her?”

“Whenever you’d run into her you’d do everything you could to piss her off. That was indication enough,” he says.

“That’s because he wanted to fuck her,” Cam cuts back in, earning himself another glare from me. “What? It’s not like it isn’t true. Anytime both of you were in the same room you could cut the tension with a knife. The same tension Austin and our girl Zoey has,” he adds. “Except theirs isn’t so…shall we say…volatile.”

Austin sits back in his chair, his eyes narrowing at Cam’s smug smirk. “Since when the hell did you become a fucking expert on love?”

“Hey, who said anything about love? I’m talking about attraction and fucking, and for your information, I know a lot about that shit.”

We all grunt but don’t argue. It’s no secret he’s the biggest whore of us all.

Before anyone can say more, Captain Gypsy comes storming in. “What the hell is all the griping about? I’m on a goddamn phone call and I hear you all fighting like a bunch of girls. Shut up and eat the damn dinner I paid for.”

Silence fills the air as he stomps away, the sound of his boots hitting the hard floor before we hear the slam of his door.

We all share a look before busting out in laughter.

“Shut up and eat the damn dinner I paid for
,” Declan mocks, making us laugh harder.

Once we wind down, I decide to lay the prior issue to rest once and for all. “Look, I get you guys care about Sam but you know me better than that. I’d never use her to get to him. It’s not my style.”

Although, I hate to admit it but I did entertain the idea once years ago. It was shortly after he fucked Stephanie, but I came to my senses quick. And thank God for that. Because the thought of hurting her or causing her pain makes me sick to my stomach, especially now that I’ve gotten to know her.

“You’re right,” Jake says. “I do know you better. Just be prepared, because you know if Evans gets wind of this he’s going to think the same thing.”

I don’t care what that asshole thinks. He can mind his own fucking business, too.

“Can I say something?” Cam asks.

“No!” we all answer at once.

“Well, I’m going to fucking say it anyway,” he starts, talking over our groans. “I think it’s time you and Evans put this shit to rest. Now that Sam is involved someone is bound to get hurt, and I have a feeling it won’t be either of you.”

There will never be a truce between Evans and me. There’s too much history. Too much bad blood between us. We can’t erase what’s been done between us, but none of that has anything to do with Sam.

“I think that might have been one of the most intellectual things you’ve ever said, Phillips,” Austin says, breaking into my thoughts.

“Told you assholes I know what I’m talking about.”

Another round of chuckles fill the room but I remain silent, that deep-seated hate bubbling to the surface but I shove it back down.

For the next few weeks she’s mine and no one, including her brother, is going to stop me from soaking up every single minute I can with her.

Sam

M
y thoughts are consumed with Jase as I sit on my lunch break in-between classes on Friday afternoon. Our time together hasn’t been long but it’s been more than I could hope for. If we’re not making love then he’s making me laugh or holding me in his strong arms until dawn breaks and it’s time for him to leave. Every moment spent with him is better than the last and it feels so…easy…natural even. It’s like we’ve known each other for years.

I guess we have but not like this. Not by touch or kiss. That’s all new but for some reason my heart remembers it—remembers something it never had. How is it possible to know someone’s touch before you ever felt it? I can’t explain it, and I don’t think I will ever be able to.

I know I need to keep my heart out of this but it’s getting harder. I can’t fall in love with him. I absolutely can’t. I’m moving and it’s something I’m not going to change my mind about. Besides, our families hate each other. I can’t imagine what a family dinner would be like.

I don’t even want to think about it.

Sighing, I grab my cell phone out of my purse and put in a call to Grace’s bakery.

She answers on the third ring. “A Slice of Hope with a Sprinkle of Grace, this is Grace speaking, how can I help you?”

“Grace, it’s Sam.”

“Sam, what a pleasant surprise,” she says, genuine happiness in her tone. “How are you?”

“I’m good, how about you guys? How are my niece and nephew?”

“They are wonderful and very excited for you to finally get here. We all are.”

“Me, too,” I say, though it lacks my usual enthusiasm.

“So what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Do you have a minute?”

“Of course.”

“I need a peach pie recipe. The best one you have.”

“Oh, brushing up on your skills so you can help your sister-in-law out when ya get here?” she asks hopefully.

“I’ll come and help out anytime but we both know it won’t taste nearly as good as yours or even Hope’s for that matter.” My precious little niece is almost as good as her mom.

“Nonsense. You will be great. I can’t wait to see you. I’ve missed you so dang much. We all have.”

“I miss you all, too,” I tell her, my heart swelling in my chest.

“Okay, I’m going to give you a pretty simple recipe but I want you to have fun with it. Add things. Toss some of your favorites in it then name it whatever you want. Don’t hold back, even if it ends up tasting terrible. You’ll know what to do differently for next time.”

I smile at the excitement in her voice, her passion igniting one of my own. It’s contagious. “Okay, I will.”

I jot down the list of ingredients and simple directions. After she finishes she asks what the special occasion is.

“Actually, it’s for a date,” I say carefully.

She gasps. “Really? Oh my gosh, that’s so darn excitin’. Anyone I know?”

I shift in my seat, unsure of whether to tell her or not. I hate to put her in a bad place since she would have to keep it from Sawyer.

“Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?” I ask.

“Well, I most certainly do now.” She laughs.

“Promise not to tell my brother?”

There’s a long bout of silence.

“Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good. Maybe not.”

“It’s probably better you don’t,” I say softly.

“It’s not Grant, is it?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Oh good. Well…oh the heck with it. Tell me anyway or I’ll die from curiosity.”

“It’s Jase Crawford.”

“Holy Toledo,” she shrieks. “Are you messin’ with me right now?”

A soft sigh escapes me. “No. And I know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure you do.”

“You think it’s a mistake, just like Jesse. But if it is, Grace, it’s the best one I’ve ever made. It’s nothing serious,” I add, not only lying to her but myself. What I feel for Jase is serious, more than I care to admit. But I’m sticking to the deal, even if it kills me. “We’re just spending time with each other before I move, and…it’s been really great. I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

“Oh, Sam. I can hear it in your voice,” she says softly, her words parallel to Jesse’s. “If he’s good to you and you’re happy then that’s all that matters.”

“He is…real good to me.”

“I believe it. I only met him that one time, and it’s one I will never bring up around your brother or it’ll set him off.”

I cringe just thinking of my brother’s reaction.

“Lord knows none of us needs to see that,” she continues. “But even in the short time that I met him, I could tell Jase was a good guy. He actually reminded me a lot of Sawyer, which is why I think they butt heads so much. The world isn’t big enough for both of their egos.”

I chuckle. “Now that I agree with.”

There’s a thoughtful pause between the both of us.

“You know, something my mama always said was to let your heart lead you and you can never go wrong. Follow it, Sam, and see where you end up.”

My throat thickens at the sound of her sad voice as she talks about her late mother. “Thanks, Grace.”

“Anytime. Let me know how your pie turns out.”

“I will. I’ll call you back this weekend.”

“Sounds good. Take care.”

“You, too.”

The rest of my day passes in a blur, Jase never far from my thoughts or heart.

Once the last child is picked up, I rush out of the school and drive straight to the u-pick farm that’s located just on the outskirts of town, wanting to get the freshest peaches for my pie. It’s owned by the McNallys, a sweet elderly couple who have been longtime residents of Silver Creek.

Unfortunately, when I pull up, Mr. and Mrs. McNally are parked outside the metal gate, locking up the property.

Shoot!
They’re closed already?

Mrs. McNally waves to me while sitting in her car as she waits for Mr. McNally to finish locking up.

Waving back, I put the car in park and step out, keeping one foot inside.

“Well hello, Miss Samantha,” Mr. McNally greets me.

I try not to cringe at the use of my full name. I never liked it much before, but since Grant I do even less now.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. McNally,” I greet them both with a smile. “I guess this means you guys are closed for the day?”

He gives me a regretful nod. “I know it’s a little early but we have our granddaughter’s year end recital this evening.”

“How lovely,” I tell him. “Well, no problem. I was hoping to pick some fresh peaches but the grocery store will just have to do. Have a nice time.”

I’m about to climb back into my car when Mrs. McNally calls out to me. “Samantha, dear, you’re welcome to go on in if you don’t mind locking up after yourself.”

“Really? Are you sure that would be okay?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you. I won’t be long. I promise.”

Shutting off my car, I grab my wicker basket that sits on the passenger seat then hurry over to hand Mr. McNally twenty dollars, but he waves me away.

“Don’t worry about it. This time is on us.”

“Oh no. I insist. Especially when you are gracious enough to trust me alone here.”

“Of course we do, dear. You were raised by some of the best people I know.”

I smile, my heart warming at the compliment. No matter how hard I push for him to accept the money, he refuses.

“You go on now,” Mrs. McNally says. “The trees are in the far back corner. There should be a small ladder close by. You’ll find the ripest ones at the top.”

I nod. “Thank you again.”

After bidding me farewell, they drive away, their station wagon disappearing down the dusty road. Leaving my car parked where it is, I walk up the long gravel driveway, admiring the beautiful scenery as I make my way to the back of the property. The grass is green and lush, the trees and shrubs full of bright, rich, colorful fruits.

When I finally make it to the peach trees, I seek out the fullest one and choose the middle. Slipping my phone in the pocket of my vintage, knee-length, gingham skirt, I begin pulling peaches from the branches that I can reach, having to stretch up on my tiptoes, but quickly notice how firm they are.

Craning my head back, I see that Mrs. McNally is right; the plumpest ones seem to be at the top. I grab the wooden ladder that lies against one of the other trees and bring it over. After placing my wicker basket on the ground, I start my climb. Halfway up my ankle almost rolls, thanks to the heels I’m wearing.

Probably not the smartest thing to wear when climbing a ladder.

Once I make it to the top step, I carefully reach up and pick a few more; happy they are softer than the other ones I picked below. I step down close enough to gently place them in the basket then make the climb again and stretch up to grab another. That’s when I spot a large plump one that sits all by itself, much higher up, just begging to be picked.

Against my better judgment, I step up onto the platform, the ladder beginning to shake from my wobbly legs.

Crap, not a good idea.

Just when I’m about to climb back down, the ladder tilts beneath me. With a shriek of panic, I reach out for the thick, heavy branch and grab hold of it while the ladder clatters to the ground.

“Oh shit. This is not good.” Fear thrums through my veins when I look down, to see just how far up I am. “This is really not good.”

Stay calm, Sam. Think.

With all the strength I possess, I swing my lower body up and lock my legs around the thick branch, uncaring how indecent I look with my skirt flipped up, showcasing my ass to all of Mother Nature.

Eventually, I manage to twist up enough to situate myself on top, straddling the rough bark before I plummet to my death. I glance down once more and groan at the tipped over ladder.

“Great. How the hell am I going to get down?”

Taking in my surroundings, I see if I can climb my way back down but none of the branches seem as sturdy as the one I’m on. With my luck today, I’m liable to break my neck. Not having any other choice, I reach for my cell phone, thankful it didn’t fall out in the midst of my epic tree swinging skills, and call Zoey. But she doesn’t answer.

“No, no, no. Please, don’t be unavailable now. Please.”

I call three more times, only to get her voicemail. I try my other friend, Monica, who I deem more of an acquaintance but she doesn’t answer either. It makes me want to cry because it means I’m stuck having to call the last person I want to come here and find me like this.

Someone who will never let me live it down.

Shoving aside my pride, I punch in his number. Of course he answers on the first ring.

“Peaches,” he greets me in that deep, sexy voice of his. “I’m just packing up to leave, I’ll be over soon.”

“Would you mind making a stop first?”