Page 113 of Rough and Rugged

He held up his wineglass in a salute. “I’d like that.”

Me, too.

After dinner, we cleaned up together, then went into the sitting room. Since Grandma had never owned a TV, I brought out her backgammon board. To my delight, Sam not only knew how to play, but he was also very good at it. After a few games, we sat and talked until the day’s work caught up with me, and my head began to droop.

Sam stood and stretched. “It’s getting late. I should head back to my place.”

For the first time that day, I realized he hadn’t driven over here. “I don’t know if I can get behind the wheel. I’ve had a lot of wine.” Together, we’d polished off the entire bottle.

“I don’t mind walking. I’ve got a flashlight in my toolbox.”

Maybe it was the wine talking, but I spoke up before I lost my nerve. “If you want, you could… um… stay here tonight. With me.”

He gave a rueful shake of his head. “I’d better not.”

I looked away, too humiliated to face him. “Sorry. I think I had too much to drink.”

He crouched down until he was at my level. “Maggie? There’s no need to apologize.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes, only to tremble with desire as he stroked his fingers against my cheek. My breath caught, and I leaned toward him, desperately hoping for a kiss. The heat in his gaze was so palpable I was certain he wanted it as much as I did.

Instead, he pulled his hand away from my cheek. “I’d love to stay, but not yet. I’d like to spend more time getting to know you first.”

I was so stunned by his words that I could barely form a coherent response. “Um… sure. That would be great. I thought maybe you didn’t…”

“Want you? Hell, yes, I want you. But I’m prepared to wait.” He straightened up and grinned at me. “Nothing like a little longing to build up the anticipation.”

With that, he grabbed his toolbox, switched on his flashlight, and took off.

And I was left alone, all but ready to burst into flames.

Chapter Four

Twoweeksintomystay in the mountains, Sam suggested a picnic in the woods. Together, we packed a hearty lunch and set off along the private nature trail that ran behind his cabin. When we reached a narrow path that branched off from the trail, he took my hand and led me to an area encircled by a ring of stones, shaded beneath a grove of evergreens. It looked like the perfect spot for a gathering of elves. Then again, I had fantasy novels on the brain. An indie author had just hired me to design the covers for her new series—a trilogy of romantic fantasy epics—and I was having a delightful time delving into that world.

I spread out a picnic blanket and set up our feast: pasta salad, hummus with carrot sticks, strawberries, and caramel brownies. Sam’s contribution was a loaf of homemade sourdough bread and a bottle of sparkling wine. Though Farley would have loved the hike, I’d left him behind so I wouldn’t have to worry about him wandering off or trying to steal our food.

For me, few things were more blissful than eating a delicious meal outdoors. Toss in a ruggedly handsome woodsman, and this was my idea ofThe Good Place.

I still couldn’t get over my luck in meeting Sam. In the two weeks I’d been here in the Sierras, he’d done wonders with the cabin. After finishing most of the repairs, he’d helped me strip off the wallpaper and paint the walls in the front room. Most nights, I made us dinner, but he’d also invited me to his place, so I could check out his studio. Seeing his pieces up close was considerably humbling. But he’d responded with equal enthusiasm when I’d shown him the mock-ups for my picture books.

And yet.

For as much time as we spent together, he had yet to take things further. At the end of each night, he’d head back to his cabin without hinting that he wanted more from me.

Was his behavior frustrating? Yes, but there was also something enticing about it. About the smoldering glances that he occasionally tossed my way, the teasing banter we shared while playing cards, and the longing building up inside of me, waiting for that moment when he’d whisk me off to bed.

But I wasn’t sure when it would be.

When we were done with our picnic, I packed the leftovers into the basket. Sam shook out the blanket and spread it out again. After taking off his hiking boots, he lay down and gestured for me to join him. I followed suit, ditching my sneakers and lying beside him. Staring into his deep brown eyes, a spark of desire flared through me. Though I ached to feel his lips on mine, I wanted him to make the first move.

Leaning in closer, he cupped my cheek with his large, calloused hand. My heart rate kicked up a notch. “Sam?”

“Remember that offer you made, the first time I had dinner at your place?”

Remember it? I’d been thinking about it constantly. Still, I couldn’t resist teasing him. “Which offer was that? The one where you promised to fix my roof?”

He smirked. “You know which offer I’m talking about.”

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