Reid unlocked the door and took her hand. She tugged on his and pulled him toward her for a kiss, one that lingered longer than she expected. Long enough to reignite the flames again.
She finally, reluctantly, pulled back. "We'd better get out of here before someone really does start checking the upstairs."
"We'll continue this later."
"Definitely."
They left the second floor and Reid led them back to the reception. She ran into her grandmother and Faith, who said they were heading out. So she kissed her grandmother, hugged Faith, and said her good nights to them. Then they found their friends.
"Where did you two disappear to?" Chelsea asked after Reid walked away to get them something to drink.
"We, uh, went for a walk."
Chelsea gave her the once-over. "Sure you did. I hope it was good for you. Truthfully, I don't even have to ask, since your cheeks are all rosy."
"It was cool outside."
Chelsea laughed. "Honey, I can tell by the look on your face you didn't even make it outside."
Sam shrugged. "Okay, maybe we didn't."
"As long as you had a good time."
She'd definitely had a good time. And she felt more relaxed then she'd felt in quite a while.
Thanks to Reid.
When he came back with a beer for himself and a glass of wine for her, she gave him a smile. "Thank you for tonight."
"You're welcome."
"You definitely know how to show a woman a good time."
He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. "Not just any woman, Sam. I like showing you a good time."
And there went her heart, laying itself right at his feet.
With a sigh, she followed him over to where all their friends sat.
She wasn't going to think about her heart anymore tonight. She was simply going to enjoy the night with her friends. And with Reid.
Just tonight. She was doing a lot of that lately, especially with Reid.
But she had to, didn't she? She could only do one day at a time with him. And eventually that one day would be the day he was gone.
But in order to protect her heart, she had to enjoy him one day at a time.
There really was no other way.
Chapter 32
"FIRST FLOOR OF the mercantile is nearly finished," Reid said to Luke and Logan as they shared a beer at Bash's bar. "Bathroom is in, walls are up, and Loretta has given the okay on the final plans."
Luke took a long pull from his bottle of beer. "So Loretta's definitely committed?"
Reid nodded. "Yes. Lease is signed. She's coming in first of next week to make final selections on paint color and flooring. We should have the first floor finished within the next two weeks."
"That's great," Logan said.
"Yeah, it's all coming together. Better than I thought, actually."
"What about the other floors?" Luke asked. "I know last time we talked about some people who were interested in some of the second-floor space."
"Second floor is almost all leased out. We have several companies inquiring about spaces on the third floor as well."
"I heard from Max Claney about the third floor," Logan said.
"The lawyer?" Luke asked. "The one with the big firm over on Twelfth Street?"
"Yeah. He's expanding again and he might want the entire third floor. Thinks it's great space for his firm."
Reid grimaced. "Max Claney is a dick."
Logan laughed. "He was a dick when you went to school with him."
"No, Reid is right," Luke said. "He's still a dick."
"But if he leases the entire third floor, that makes him a paying dick," Logan said. "So do we care?"
"I might."
Logan looked at Reid. "Why? Because he wants that corner office on the third floor?"
"No. Why would I care about that?"
"Because you've turned down three people already who wanted to lease that space?"
Reid's gaze shot to Luke. "Who told you that?"
Luke hid his smile behind his beer, took a swallow, then set the bottle down. "First, I'm local law enforcement. I tend to know everything going on in this town. Second, everybody knows everything that goes on in Hope. You remember that, right?"
Well, shit. "They weren't the right fit for that space."
"If the check doesn't bounce, they're the right fit," Logan said. "So what's the problem?"
The problem was, Reid didn't exactly know what the problem was. "Cline's music studio would be too noisy for the other tenants. And we didn't build those walls to be soundproof. The last thing we need is a dispute among tenants right off the bat."
"Okay," Logan said. "You have a point there."
"We've already agreed to a lease with Miller Accounting on the second floor. Gail Miller is currently in divorce proceedings with Paul Miller of Miller Excavators, who wanted the third-floor corner office. I was at Bert's after I signed the lease with Gail, and in ten minutes I heard the story of how Paul cheated on Gail with their next-door neighbor. Could you imagine those two running into each other on the stairs or in the elevator? I didn't think it was a good fit and I kind of got the idea that as soon as Gail rented the space Paul probably decided to go after space in the same building just to piss her off."
"Hmm, that could be," Luke said. "I heard Gail and Paul were divorcing and that it wasn't going to be an amicable one."
"And what about the third?" Logan asked.
"Marshall Stevenson."
Luke and Logan both said "Oh" simultaneously.
"Now he is a dick," Logan said. "Don't blame you for turning him down."
The Stevenson family had been in major competition with the McCormacks for as long as Reid could remember. Their family owned the neighboring ranch, but instead of being friendly and neighborly, Marshall Stevenson had competed with Reid's father over everything, from cattle to horses to acreage to property fence lines. It had been a constant battle over whose dick was bigger, likely going back generations.
And Marshall's sons, Abel and Lex, were assholes, too, just like their father.
Abel and Lex were the same ages as Logan and Luke, but Reid had grown up around them, didn't like them, and he'd rent the space to anyone other than the Stevenson family.
"So Marshall approached you about leasing the space?" Luke asked.
"First Marshall called," Reid said. "Then when I didn't fall all over myself to immediately lease space to him, Lex came by to stink up the mercantile with Stevenson arrogance."
"That figures," Logan said, "since Lex handles the business aspect of the ranch operations. What did you tell Lex?"
"Same thing I told his father--that I had other offers on the table already for the space."
"Good," Logan said. "No way in hell are we ever leasing space to a Stevenson."
"I'm in agreement," Luke said.
"Glad you both agree, since I already told him no."
"Okay, so what are we going to do about that third-floor office?" Luke asked.
"I know what you should do about it," Logan said, his gaze fixed on Reid.
"What's that?"
"I think you've been turning down all these people inquiring about the space for a specific reason."
Reid signaled Bash for another round. "Really, and what's that?"
"Because you've always seen that corner office space on the third floor as yours."
Reid cocked a brow. "Now that would be a waste of the space, since I don't live or work here."
"But you could," Luke said. "You have the potential for business here. A lot of business."
"And your family is here," Logan said.
Bash brought their beers and a couple of bowls of pretzels. "How's it going?"
"Good."
"You need anything else, just signal."
"Thanks, Bash, we will," Reid said.
"Back to you moving here," Luke said, after Bash walked away. "You have the potential for a lot of business. I've heard the city is inter
ested in expanding the police department. There's talk of having surplus funding for a new building. And City Hall is looking at an expansion, too. They're already talking about bids. You could get in on that."
"I could, if I lived here. Which I don't."
"Which you could," Logan argued, "if you pulled up stakes and just moved back."
"Not as simple as you make it sound. I own a company in Boston."
Luke shrugged. "So sell it. And start another company in Hope."
He laughed. "Oh, sure. You make it seem so easy."
"I didn't say it would be easy. But it's doable, if you want it to be."
"And who says I want it to be?"
"Nobody," Logan said. "But do you?"
He hadn't voiced it out loud--to anyone. He'd tried to avoid thinking about it, to deny the feasibility, to leave the emotion out of even considering it. But here it was, on the table. And maybe it was time to discuss it.
"I don't know. I like being here. You know I love being around you two and Martha and Ben and everyone on the ranch. Boston has been great. I've built a successful business, but . . ."
He let the words trail off. He'd never been able to admit it before.
"But it's not home."
Logan had said it for him.
"No, Boston isn't home. But come on. I'm not a baby. I've done fine out there."
"Yeah, you have, and we're all damn proud of you, Reid," Luke said. "You've proved you can make it on your own. You built a business with no one's help--a successful business, too. But now that you've been back, we kind of like having you around."
"Yeah, kind of," Logan said.
Reid's lips ticked up. "I've kind of liked it, too."
"You know, at some point you have to start thinking about where you're going to grow roots," Logan said.
Reid frowned. "What?"
"The reason you're second-guessing everything is you're at the point in your life where you're thinking about planting seeds."
Reid slanted his gaze toward Luke, who shrugged. "He's gotten all philosophical since Des got pregnant. Just go with it."
"Okay, so I'm thinking about planting seeds."
Logan nodded. "Yeah. Metaphorical seeds. Not green beans or anything."
"Yes, I kind of get that we're speaking metaphorically, Logan." Sometimes his oldest brother was a pain in his ass. "Go ahead."
"You want to see those seedlings grow into a solid life--a future for yourself."
"Uh huh. Well, that's interesting and all, but I haven't been doing any planting."
"Haven't you? What about Samantha? You've grown close to her over these past few months. What about Not My Dog and your relationship with him? What about that third-floor office space that you haven't seen fit to lease out to anyone yet, because you see yourself standing in that office someday? What about all the people in Hope that you've helped out, talking to them about expanding their businesses, or the possibilities of designing new spaces for them? Isn't that rooting yourself into this town, into a future for yourself?"
Well . . . shit.
Luke leaned forward and laid his hand on Reid's shoulder. "Did I mention he was getting pretty good at all this philosophical shit?"
"No, you didn't."
"Well, he is."
"So when did you get so smart?" he asked Logan.
Logan's lips curved upward. "Hell, I've always been smart. Not my fault you never noticed."
"He's still full of shit, though," Luke said, grinning as he tipped his beer to his lips.
Reid had to let all of this settle in his head. Now that it was out there, he had a lot to think about.
After he finished with his brothers, he and Not My Dog piled into the truck. But instead of driving back to the ranch, he took a detour.
There was a piece of land he'd driven by nearly every day. He'd spotted the For Sale sign on the land when he'd first gotten back to Hope. It had sparked his interest and he'd stopped by once. Twice. More than a few times already.
He parked the truck, and he and the dog got out.
Situated at the midway point between the ranch and the town center of Hope, this plot of land was a little bit out of town, to give him acreage, which he'd always wanted. It was set far enough back from the highway to be quiet, but not too remote. He could see neighboring houses from the center of the property, but the copious amounts of trees afforded plenty of privacy.
He could already envision the house he'd design. A two-story Colonial with four or five bedrooms, plus an office space, so he'd have his own area to work. A big yard for Not My Dog--and maybe a couple more pups, because he didn't want the dog to get lonely.
He'd always had a fondness for Colonial-style homes, with big columns and a wide wraparound porch. The back would have an oversized deck for entertaining.
Inside, there'd need to be a huge kitchen--with a dishwasher. Sam would like that. And an extra bedroom with an attached bathroom for Claire so they could take care of her.
They'd be close enough to town that he and Sam could commute together, if necessary, but still be near enough to the house to be there for Claire. And they could hire someone to help care for her during the day when that time came.
The idea had merit. It was a sound plan. A good plan.
It could work.
But as he wandered back and forth over the ground, he shook his head.
Was this really what he wanted? Could he see himself here in Hope for the duration of his life? Boston was a completely different lifestyle, a fast-paced city that he'd grown accustomed to. He'd settled there, built his career there. He had friends there, people he'd developed relationships with.
He did more pacing. More thinking.
But had he been happy there?
He thought even more about it as he and Not My Dog walked the land.
He'd been . . . content. He loved the work he did. Designing buildings was in his blood.
But as he stood in this empty pasture and looked around, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged. This felt like something he could dig into.
This felt like a future. Like forever.
But was this entire thought process nothing more than a dream, something born out of a beery conversation with his brothers? Sure, it sounded great in theory while he was bullshitting around with Logan and Luke. But the reality of it?
It would take a major upheaval to make this happen.
Maybe it was nothing more than a dream. And maybe it was a stupid dream at that.
Not My Dog head-butted his leg.
"What's up, buddy?"
Not My Dog settled at his feet, then stared out over the land, as if to say: You're overthinking. This place is awesome.
"You think?"
The dog's tail thumped on the ground.
Yeah. Start designing our new house. And my new yard.
"Yeah, you're right. I need to pull the trigger on this. At least buy the land, right?"
Not My Dog thumped his tail and wiggled his butt, excitement in his dark eyes.
I can already see myself chasing rabbits through those woods.
"Okay, buddy, we'll buy the property. But I'm not making any promises beyond that."
He had a lot to think about, and even more to do. First he needed to finish the mercantile. And then he needed to go back to Boston.
Chapter 33
AFTER TAKING THE morning off to drive Grammy Claire to a doctor's appointment, Sam spent the remainder of the day catching up on deliveries. She was already thinking she was going to have to hire help. With Grammy Claire needing more assistance, and looking down the road toward the future, there was no way she was going to be able to manage the flower shop by herself anymore.
She finished sweeping the floor and tallying up the day's receipts, then closed and locked the cash register. She looked around, rubbing the ache in her stomach.
Reasor's Flowers had always been a family-run business. Her grandmother and grandfather had run this place by themselv
es, and when she had taken over, she'd managed it just fine. Sure, sometimes she'd brought in helpers when things had gotten hectic, but that had only been temporary. She'd prided herself on being able to handle whatever came up. And on occasion, like during the week of Carter and Molly's wedding, she might have had to shuffle off some business, but she'd gotten it back when other flower shops were under time crunches. It had all worked out.
But now? She could already tell she was going to need help, and not on a temporary basis. She was going to have to hire someone at least part-time.
It felt like she was giving up a piece of herself, and she hated the idea.
It was ridiculous to feel this way, but there was nothing she could do about her feelings.
As she put the last of the window display flowers into the refrigerator case, she noticed the lights were on in the mercantile.
She was here late tonight. It looked like Reid was working late as well. It didn't appear Deacon and his crew were still there, since the only truck she saw was Reid's.
Since she hadn't seen Reid in a couple of days, and since she knew Faith was over at her grandmother's house for dinner tonight, she dashed over to Bert's and grabbed a couple of sandwiches, along with chips, drinks, and dessert, then drove back, hoping Reid would still be there.
He was. She parked behind his truck and knocked on the downstairs door.
No answer. Of course not, because the lights were on upstairs. She tried the knob, and it was open, so she went inside. Not My Dog greeted her.
"Hey, baby boy. Where's Reid?"
Not My Dog wagged his tail.
"I'd pet you, sweetheart, but my hands are full. How about when I put this stuff down?"
She and the dog made their way upstairs. She took in all the details along the way.
It was almost finished. The banister on the stairs was polished, and it gleamed with a dark wood finish, while the wood spindles had been painted white, a beautiful contrast to the dark stairs.
She found Reid on a ladder on the third floor, working on light fixtures in the hallway.
"Don't you have people for this?" she asked.
"Oh, hey," he said, turning around to smile at her. "I heard someone coming up. I thought maybe Deacon had come back for something."
"Just me." She held up the bag. "I saw your lights on because I was working late, too. I brought dinner if you're hungry."
He pulled a rag out of his back pocket and wiped his hands. "I'm always hungry."
After she gave Not My Dog some love, he found a spot on the floor nearby and promptly went to sleep. Reid laid out a tarp for them on the top stair at the entrance to the third floor, and she spread out the club sandwiches and chips. She'd asked for plates and a lot of napkins, and she'd brought two large iced teas as well.