Sam woke up Sunday morning feeling satisfied. After she’d taken Rupert home—he swore that the cookies had given him renewed energy to get back to his writing—she’d pulled out disposable platters and carefully arranged the cookies in two nice displays, topping them with plastic covers. They’d made a couple dozen extras, just in case, and she made up a few sampler baggies. It never hurt to throw in a few gifts along the way.
After a slow-paced morning at home she loaded up her treasures and headed for Santa Fe. The hour and a half drive went smoothly, the only traffic snags coming as she approached the northern edge of the capital city, where weekends brought crowds out to the flea market. By then she was watching for the turnoff to Casa de Tranquilidad, where she followed a winding gravel road to the hotel resort. The meandering adobe building sat at an overlook, surrounded by pine forest. Really a beautiful spot for conferences or weddings or social events. Sam hoped her effort on the cookies would bring even more business from them.
She pulled under the portico at the front entrance, unsure which meeting room was her destination. The hotel’s conference coordinator usually suggested she avoid the bustle of the kitchen, as long as the client’s meeting room was available. She made a quick inquiry at the front desk, got her instructions and headed back to the car. The valet parking attendant seemed a bit impatient at the length of time she’d parked and she felt pressure to stack the trays and carry them both at once. About the time she’d nearly dumped one of them a young woman with long auburn hair came walking up. She looked like a hotel guest, carrying a leather duffle, and she noticed Sam’s plight.
“Could I help you with those?” she asked, dropping her bag near the Subaru.
Sam gladly handed off one of the trays. “Thanks. It wasn’t smart for me to try handling both of them.”
She followed Sam inside and they set down their burdens. Back at the car the younger woman picked up her duffle, introducing herself as Charlie Parker.
“Here, Charlie, let me . . .” Sam reached for the samples she’d bagged up. “If you ever need pastries, give me a call.”
She looked at Sam’s card and thanked her, eyeing the cookies—obviously a girl who liked her sweets, although her slender figure belied that. Sam gave her a smile and then caught the eye of the valet who was clearly sending annoyance vibes her way. She climbed back into the car as Charlie went into the lobby.
Sam stopped in Espanola for a quick burger and reached the outskirts of Taos as it was getting dark. Her cell phone rang about two seconds after she’d traded Zoe’s Subaru back for her pickup truck, Beau asking if she’d like to meet for dinner. She explained about the burger and he sounded so disappointed that she caved and said she’d love an ice cream.
They decided that the Sonic Drive-in on the south side of town could satisfy both his need for solid food and her ice cream desires. She headed that way and had just pulled in when she spotted his Explorer behind her. He parked it at the side of the property and Sam pulled in at one of the slots with the old-time speakers for ordering. He climbed into her truck and they stared at the menu and placed their orders.
“I’m glad you were available on short notice,” he said, sending a genuine smile her way. “This way it’s not officially a date.”
She sent him a saucy grin and told him about the delivery in Santa Fe. “You caught me just at the right moment. Otherwise, I’d have been snug inside.”
He gave her a long, intent gaze. “Sam, I . . .”
Before he could finish the thought, a girl arrived with their tray. In the exchange of wrapped food, drinks, and cash, Beau took charge and Sam simply accepted her hot fudge sundae and watched as he unwrapped his chicken sandwich.
“Is there anything new on Cantone’s death?”
“Not yet. Still waiting on some lab results.” He turned sideways in his seat to face her. “But I don’t want to think about work right now.”
She’d set her empty sundae dish in the cup holder between them and he reached over to run a gentle finger down her forearm. He’d hardly taken two bites of his sandwich.
“Sam, I don’t really know how to say this, so I’ll just say it. I’m incredibly attracted to you.”
She blushed and fiddled with a wadded napkin.
“You’re a sexy lady, Sam. Don’t you see that?”
“Ha!” It had been a whole lot of years since she’d seen herself as sexy. She met his gaze. “What is it that you see in me, really? I mean, you are this incredibly attractive man who could be dating fashion models, or at least women who are a lot younger and are built like fashion models. Why me?”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I love your smile, the way you laugh so easily, your energy. I’ve dated enough empty-headed, self-centered, beautiful women to know that they are a waste of my time.”
“Really?” She’d never met a man like Beau who felt that way.
“The kiss the other night at the gorge was really nice . . .”
Now she knew she was blushing furiously. She glanced around at the other cars but no one seemed to be noticing them. And she had to agree; his kisses were the kind that sent lusty surges through her.
“So . . . could we go to your place?” he said.
All her common sense talk rushed at her. It’s too soon in the relationship. Is he genuine or is he using me? Am I really attracted to him? The thoughts lasted a good five seconds. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had casual sex before—just not in a whole lot of years. And maybe with Beau it would be more than casual. What would it hurt?
“Let’s go,” she said.
He got out of the truck and followed her through town, parking on the street. Sam pulled into her driveway, feeling the flush of desire and anticipation.
Then she noticed something else.
Parked in the wide turnaround spot at the back of her drive was a car. A shiny new Mustang convertible. Kelly.
Her daughter.