Compromising Positions (12 page)

Sam rolled her over on top of him. “It's okay, I convinced him to give me the loan anyway. Besides, this helps,” he murmured. “Believe me.”

As he pulled her into a passionate kiss, she realized she'd been right. He was too proud to accept anyone's help, even when he had nowhere else to turn. And though he needed her body, and all the passions and pleasures that came with it, he wouldn't accept anything else. She ought to be happy. It was perfect for two people who wanted nothing more than a good time in bed. No strings. No hard feelings when she walked away.

So why did the realization make her so sad?

* * *

I
T
HADN
'
T
TAKEN
much convincing to lure Amelia out of the display window and over to the inn the next afternoon. The ever-deepening snow had worried Sam and he didn't want to have her stuck all alone while he dealt with things at the inn.

Even though they were in the midst of a road-closing blizzard, the wedding party, scheduled to arrive that evening, had decided they were coming anyway. They'd take the early train north and expected Sam to transport them from the station in Millhaven to the inn. Though they'd originally planned to have the ceremony at the Presbyterian church in nearby Hudson, the minister had agreed to marry them at the inn. Sarah was in charge of transforming the dining room into a proper venue for the ceremony.

“Thank God you're here, Amelia,” Sarah said as they walked in the front door. “I could use a pair of hands helping me with all this fussy décor. Sam is no help at all.”

“You need my help?”

“Isn't that why you came?” Sarah asked.

“She's a guest,” Sam said. “You can't put her to work.”

“Of course you can,” Amelia said, glancing over at Sam and giving him a smile. “What is it we're doing?”

“Decorating for a wedding,” Sarah said.

“Who is getting married?” Amelia asked.

“We have thirty-some guests arriving later today. We've decided to have the ceremony here because of the snow. It's a small group. But I want to make it nice.”

“I can help you with that,” Amelia said.

Sam sat back and marveled as the two of them formulated their plans. He was ordered to fetch specific objects from the rooms and the attic and the kitchen and he quietly did what he was told.

He was walking through the front parlor when he noticed someone outside shoveling the front walk. He shouted a greeting and was surprised to find out it was James beneath the heavy, hooded coat. He motioned for the plumber to come inside and James nodded, leaving the shovel in the snowbank beside the walk.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, Sarah said she had a lot of work to do getting ready for the wedding this weekend, so I thought I'd give her a hand. I brought my tools along. I was going to go 'round and replace the washers on all the faucets.”

“You were just going to do that for no reason?” Sam asked.

“I was going to do it for Sarah,” he said sheepishly.

“What's going on with you two?”

Sam noticed a flush rise in James's already-pink cheeks. “I'm not sure. I kind of think she might like me. I like her a lot. Ever since high school, I thought she was the prettiest girl in Millhaven. And when she went away to college, I was hoping she'd come back here someday and I'd get the chance to tell her.”

“She graduated from college four years ago,” Sam said. “What's taken you so long?”

“I guess I was waiting for my big moment. I figure a guy's got only one, maybe two, chances to convince a woman that he loves her. And if he doesn't get it done, she'll just move along and find someone else she wants. I'm not sure Sarah was ready to hear it from me last year or the year before. But yesterday, when I was here working on your boiler, I kinda felt that she was ready.”

“Well, I have to say you may be right on that one.”

“Really? Did she say something to you?”

“No. But I've never seen her act like such an idiot around a man. Except for that time she met some guy from a boy band.”

“The Backstreet Boys,” he said. “She really loved them. Had pictures up on her locker at school.”

“Well, why don't you grab a cup of coffee and warm up? We can finish this up later. It doesn't pay to shovel if it's still snowing.”

Sam followed the other man into the dining room and watched his sister's reaction when she spotted the plumber.

It was all there in her smile, in the sparkle in her eyes. He looked over at Amelia and saw her smiling at the pair. “Sarah, James said he'd fix our drippy faucets. Why don't you show him the fixtures that need new washers? Amelia and I will work on the dining room.”

“How are you with flowers?” Sarah asked.

“Me?” Amelia said. “Oh, I'm very good with flowers. It was one of those things that my mother thought was important for a young lady to learn.”

“Great. The boxes are in the big fridge. Why don't you make the arrangements? Once I have room in the fridge, I can make the wedding cake. I can get that done tonight.”

“What should I use for vases?”

“There are lots of vases on the shelves in the mudroom. I'd mix the pewter with crystal.”

“You have pewter?” Amelia asked. She shook her head. “You realize that Revere worked in pewter, too?”

“We can have you appraise that later,” Sam said.

“How'd that go, by the way?” Sarah asked.

“We'll talk about it after the weekend,” Sam said.

“Why don't you get the silver out of my truck and we can use some of the less valuable pieces for the wedding?”

“There are more valuable pieces?” Sarah asked.

Sam nodded. “I'll show you later. You and I are going to have to make some decisions.”

Sarah and James wandered off to find leaky faucets and Sam and Amelia sat at the dining room table to work on the flowers.

“He's in love with her,” Sam said.

“And she's in love with him,” Amelia added.

“Really?”

Amelia nodded. “The minute you left the room, she found a way to bring him up.”

Sam thought about the match for a moment. “I guess it wouldn't be a bad thing. We'd have a plumber in the family. If I could just find a lady electrician to marry, we'd be set.”

Amelia grabbed a wilted flower and tossed it at him. “You're supposed to marry for love, not union membership.” She paused. “Have you ever thought about getting married?”

Sam shrugged. “I haven't spent much time on it. I'm pretty much married to this job. I'd have to find someone willing to devote the rest of their life to this place. Not such an appealing choice.”

“That's not true,” Amelia said.

“Well, let's just say I haven't had women beating down the door to get at me.”

“I think you're so used to looking at this place in a negative way that you can no longer see all the wonderful things about it. You're living in a lovely, historical home and you're sharing your home with people who appreciate it. You live in a town where everyone knows you. It's safe and quiet here. You're surrounded by nature.”

“And yet I can't feel grateful,” Sam said, a cynical edge to his voice.

“It isn't always going to be like this,” she said as she began to arrange a small vase of flowers. “Life does change. Maybe Sarah and James will get married and they'll take care of the inn, giving you a chance to do something new. Or maybe you'll meet a woman who always dreamed of running an inn. Maybe all four of you will run the inn. There are a lot of different ways your life could change. But you have to let it.”

She took a deep breath and pushed her first arrangement in front of him. “This is going to be such a nice wedding. When I was going to marry Edward, I wanted to have a very small, intimate wedding like this. I wanted to do it in an art museum. Of course, my mother wouldn't have it. She had at least three hundred people on her list alone. And Edward's mother was just as bad. Imagine attending your own wedding with six hundred people you'd never even met.”

“So you were happy not to go through with it?” Sam asked.

“Yes, it wasn't what I wanted,” Amelia replied.

“And how does he feel?”

“He hopes I'll come to my senses, but that's only because he doesn't want to spend the time finding an alternative. It would take searching and dating and actually trying to be romantic. Edward just doesn't have the patience for all that nonsense.”

“That's the best part, though,” Sam said.

She smiled. “I know. I'm just beginning to realize that.” Amelia slowly turned the vase, examining the arrangement from all sides. “So, what do you think? Will it do?”

“Definitely,” he said. “You're a woman of many talents.”

“Now you have to make one just like this,” she said.

They spent the next hour finishing the arrangements. It was a chance to talk, without any thought of seduction invading the conversation. Sam realized that if they were in a real relationship, this would be an ordinary day for them, enjoying conversation, working on a task together, laughing and joking.

“What would you think about spending the night here?” Sam asked. “No one is going to come to watch us at Benny's in the middle of this snowstorm. And I'd rather we were here, warm and comfortable, than sleeping in that drafty window.”

“That would be nice. We could have dinner with Sarah and James. And we could make a fire. And have pie.”

“We can have pie right now,” he said. He pulled her to her feet and followed her into the kitchen. But before she opened the pie safe, Sam wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up on the edge of the counter. Cupping her face in his hands, Sam kissed her, taking in the delicious taste of her mouth.

His hands skimmed over her body, then slipped beneath her sweater. Sam knew every inch of her body. So when his palm cupped her breast, he knew exactly how perfectly the soft flesh would fit in his hand and how, with just a gentle coax, her nipple would harden into a peak.

If they had a future, would their days together be punctuated with moments such as these, when they'd forget the ordinary tasks and drift into a haze of passion? “Pretty soon we're going to have to decide what to do about that damned bed,” he murmured.

“What bed?” she asked.

He pulled back, and when their gazes met, Amelia smiled. “I'm just kidding. But it doesn't seem quite so important when you're kissing me. Besides, I know you're going to give it to me.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “I think you realize how important it is for me. The only reason you haven't given in yet is because you enjoy having me around. And if I agreed to give the bed back to you after the exhibit, I believe you might cave.”

“I believe that's a compromise, isn't it?” Sam asked.

“A good one, in fact. I might be able to convince Vivian to consider the bed a loan.”

“I'll consider your offer and get back to you.”

“What if I demand a decision now or I'll put on my shoes and go home?” she asked.

Sam nodded. “I figure you have other reasons to stay. Pie. Your whole manservant fantasy. My pewter collection. Your flower-arranging talents.”

“And there's the sex,” Amelia said. “Don't forget the sex.”

“There is that. So,” Sam said, “pie or sex?”

“Pie with sex?” Amelia countered.

“I'll meet you in the George Washington room. Get the key from behind the desk. Room number twelve.”

With a laugh, Amelia jumped off the counter and headed through the dining room. Sam grabbed a half-eaten apple pie from the pie safe, then stopped for a can of whipped cream before following after Amelia, trying not to give in to the feeling that this fantasy they were living was fast coming to an end. And he had no idea how to keep it going.

* * *

S
AM
AND
A
MELIA
settled into the old stone kitchen for the weekend. Amelia was glad to be out of the display window and warm and cozy at the inn. Sam kept a crackling fire going in the hearth.

They worked together, getting the inn ready for the wedding, and every now and then they'd escape to their little stone cottage to enjoy each other in more carnal ways. But Amelia sensed the end coming, waiting just beyond the edge of their reality.

She wasn't sure how it would happen, what they'd say or what promises they'd try to make. Maybe it would be a simple goodbye, a quick kiss and a vague promise to see each other when she returned the bed. Life would go on. She could live without Sam Blackstone, as hard as that was to believe right now.

Amelia told herself to live in the present. And in the present, they were naked again, caught up in their passion. Amelia smiled down at him, her legs straddling his hips, his shaft buried deep inside her.

“Don't move,” he murmured.

“Don't tell me what to do,” she teased.

“All right, move.”

“I said, don't tell me what to do.”

Sam chuckled softly, reaching up to caress her breast. “What are you thinking?”

“I'm trying to figure out if there's a third choice. Move, don't move or...”

“There aren't any gray areas here, Millie.”

She smiled, then tightened the muscles where they were joined. She'd always wondered if that was something a man could feel but she'd never had the courage to try or ask. She watched a smile curl the corners of his mouth.

“What are you doing to me?” he murmured.

“I'm not moving,” she said.

He closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensations she was creating for him. Amelia smiled as she watched desire suffuse his expression and then as it started to affect the rest of his body.