“Purple or white?” Whereas she’d been within the visitor room drying off, he’d additionally turned into an olive inexperienced T-shirt with some form of summary design on it. It seemed comfortable and well-worn, and he or she needed to run her fingers over it…and him.

“Purple.”

“This one’s presupposed to be good,” he mentioned, lifting a bottle from the rack. His biceps had been yummy. So had been the tattoos that ran the complete size of his left arm.

She tucked her arms below her breasts to maintain from touching him. “I’m simple to please.”

He turned, a depraved smile curving his lips. “Is that so?”

“Sure, I imply…no…are we nonetheless speaking about wine?” Oh my God, what had gotten into her? Was she truly flirting with Sam Weiss? And was he truly flirting again?

“Relies upon.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he winked.

This was so not her actual life. She by no means flirted with sizzling guys, not to mention world-famous rock stars. No, she usually saved to herself, misplaced in her daydreams and listening to music whereas she baked or sat at residence together with her nostril in a e book.

Sam opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses. “So, Carly from the bakery, until I’m mistaken, you realize much more about me than I do about you.”

“There’s not a lot to know.” She sipped her wine. It was daring and spicy, in all probability outrageously costly, and one of the vital scrumptious issues she’d ever tasted.

“You’re from Haven?” He motioned for her to comply with him into the lounge.

“Born and raised,” she mentioned as she sat in an overstuffed chair close to the fireplace, tucking her toes beneath herself. “Now my flip—what brings you right here to Haven?”

One thing harsh flickered throughout his options, and he or she questioned if his seclusion right here within the mountains had something to do with the scandal along with his housekeeper. There’d been some discuss that Sam had fathered a child together with her, though Carly was fairly positive he’d been cleared of that accusation.

“Wanted house to clear my head and write some new songs,” he mentioned. “My flip. How’d you find yourself proudly owning a bakery?”

“It was my grandma’s. I helped out so much over time, and I fell in love with baking, so when she retired, I took over for her.” And he or she was doing a terrific job of operating the place straight into the bottom. “Did you all the time wish to be a musician?”

“Since I used to be a little bit boy.” He was sitting on the tip of the sofa closest to her chair, shut sufficient that she might see the reflection of the fireplace dancing in his eyes.

She’d taken only some sips of her wine, however already heat unfold by means of her veins. “You’re actually proficient, you realize.”

“You take heed to my music?”

She nodded. “Renegade is one among my favourite albums to take heed to once I’m baking.”

He leaned nearer. “I can simply image you within the kitchen all lined in flour, singing alongside.”

“I don’t sing alongside.” Liar. She completely did. And he or she was sitting method too near him now, shut sufficient that she was his lips and eager about kissing him…

It may need been her overactive creativeness, however Sam was her like he needed to kiss her, too. Her coronary heart was pounding so onerous, she might barely breathe.

A beep sounded within the kitchen, and he or she lurched upright, nearly splashing pink wine throughout her garments…or relatively, Sam’s garments.

“Meatloaf’s prepared,” he mentioned. “You hungry?”

She nodded. Really, she was famished, which may be why the wine was going straight to her head. She’d eaten a sandwich on the bakery what felt like 1,000,000 hours in the past, lengthy earlier than her ill-fated journey up the mountain.

He stood and went into the kitchen. She adopted, tugging on the waistband of his too-big sweatpants and wishing her personal garments had been dry. Though admittedly, there was one thing intimate, attractive even, about carrying Sam’s. Yeah, okay, the wine was undoubtedly messing together with her head as a result of she was pondering phrases like attractive and intimate when the one purpose she was right here in his home was that her poor little automobile hadn’t been in a position to make it up the hill earlier than the ice sealed her in.

She picked up their wineglasses, pausing for a second to soak up her environment. This place was severely superior. The lounge was big and open, with uncovered beams on the ceiling, an unlimited, ornate mild fixture hanging above them, and wealthy, wood-paneled partitions. It opened to the kitchen, the place Sam stood by the desk overlooking the again deck and what she imagined had been spectacular mountain views. Proper now, it was too darkish outdoors to inform.

“That is an awfully large place for one man,” she mentioned as she walked to the desk.

He’d positioned two plates of meatloaf and mashed potatoes on the desk. “It was beginning to really feel that method till you arrived.”

She set their wineglasses beside their plates. “Have you ever gone into city a lot?”

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