Page 25 of Keystrokes and Kittens
“I’ll admit she’s an easy dog. Three walks a day and she’s happy as anything. She’s been good about keeping her distance when I’m taking care of the kittens. And watching them intently when they’ve tried to crawl around in the crate.”
Sam chuckled. Then he scratched Tibby’s ears. “I’ve always known you were a good dog. From the day I met you, I thoughtnow, she’s going to be a special one.”
This time, I laughed. “Oh really?”
“Yep.”
“How could you tell?” Now I was curious.Is he saying this to flatter me, or does he really mean it?
He shrugged. “I have a sense for these things. Even as a puppy, she was more focused on you than her surroundings. She obeyed your commands and was great when she encountered other dogs. I used to look forward to her visits.”
A leaden weight settled in my stomach. I winced. “I’m sorry.”
After a long moment, he met my gaze. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
“Now, we both know that’s not true. I haven’t been into the store since Christmas.”
His eyes widened at the word.
I swallowed. “Can we talk about this? The elephant in the room? Or should I say the Christmas tree?”
He gave me a small smile. Small—but there nonetheless. “There’s nothing to talk about. It just…is what it is.”
“God, I hate that phrase. Because there should always be something that can be done.Is what it isimplies that nothing can be altered. I don’t believe that.”
Sam cocked his head. “There are things in life that are unalterable. Take my circumstances. I can’t change things.”
I disagreed with that—but now wasn’t the time. “Look. About Christmas. I apologize.”
He attempted to speak, but I raised my hand.
“Nope, my turn.” I put my melting sorbet on the side table. “I’m going to be brutally honest—I thought you’d agreed to the kiss. I honestly believed I had consent. I would never, and I meannever,take what wasn’t freely given. Seeing how things turned out, I suspect I read the situation completely wrong.”
Sam swallowed. Visibly. Then he rubbed his head. He did it so often, that last night I’d asked him if he had a tension headache or a migraine. He’d responded he only did that when he was overtired and then he apologized.
I’d made it clear he had nothing to apologize for. Then had promptly ordered him to bed. That he’d complied had let me know just how tired the man really was.
“You—” He cleared his throat. “You weren’t wrong. I wanted that kiss as much as you, apparently. I offered my consent.”
“So then what went wrong?” I replayed the kiss over and over in my mind—as I had so very many times since that night.
He sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“I want to say we have all night, but you really need to go to bed.”Even though I want to demand answers. You just…look so tired.
He shook his head. “No. We need to talk about this. The Christmas tree in the room.” He offered a weak smile, picked up his bowl, and began to eat his sorbet.
I did the same.
And waited.
As patiently as I was capable of.
Chapter Seven
Sam
Okay. I can do this. How hard can it be to be honest?
