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Ain't it funny how a moment could just change your life
And you don't want to face what's wrong or right
Ain't it strange how fate can play a part
In the story of your heart

- Jennifer Lopez, 'Ain't It Funny'

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Chapter 26

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Martin would have run up the stairs if he wasn't worried that it might appear just a little bit desperate. So he tried his best to look cool and casual as they walked up the steps. He saw Milo was trailing slowly behind them. Holding Sam's hand in his, he waved his free hand in the air around him and said, "So this is my staircase…"

"This really is a full service tour." Sam commented as her lips curved into a smile.

"I try," He realized that he was a few steps ahead of her and he slowed down so she was able to catch up with him. "If you're lucky you might get to see the hall closet. That's where I store….wait for it," He leaned towards her and in a hushed tone said, "….the vacuum cleaner."

"Ooo…dare I dream?" She laughed.

They reached the landing where there was a long hall with five doors, three on the right and two on the left. At the end of the hall was a large window where they could see the snow outside as it swirled in the air, making its descent towards the earth below.

He pulled her along and pointed to each door announcing, "That's the closet, the office, the guest room…."

Sam halted and laughed. "Whoa, slow down cowboy. When I said I wanted the tour I meant it." She gently yanked his hand and walked to the second door. She looked at him over her shoulder and said, "While I've heard exciting things about the hall closet we can skip it for now. I want to see the office."

Martin dragged his feet and in a jokingly whiny voice replied, "Oh-kay…"

Sam reached for the doorknob and opened the door. She let go of his hand as she stepped inside and looked around. He immediately missed the warmth of her hand.

The wall to the right was lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves and she scanned the titles. She would pull out a book and then put it back. He watched her bemused before asking, "Are you profiling me Agent Spade?"

Sam tilted her head toward him. "You know as well as I do that you can learn a lot about someone by their homes and especially what sorts of books they read."

"So what have you deduced?" Martin asked curiously as he walked to his desk and sat down in the worn leather chair.

She looked back at the books and said, "Well, you have plenty of the classics, Moby Dick, A Farewell to Arms, Ulysses, etc. and they look well worn so I can assume that you have in fact read them and they aren't just for decoration. But you also have an alarming amount of Grisham. So while you like to read you taste ranges from the intellectual to the questionable."

In a very serious tone he said, "There is nothing wrong with Grisham. Just because his novels have been made into blockbuster films people give him a raw deal. The man can write."

"Okay, okay." She raised her hands in mock surrender before dropping them to her side and continuing in her profile. "Let's see what else. Your home is pretty clean and you must normally keep it this way since I doubt you would have had time to do too much straightening up before I got here. You have a dog so that shows that you are responsible and capable of taking care of another living creature. You rely a lot on your family since your sister is the one who helped you find a place to live and helped decorate it. You haven't been in a relationship in awhile because there are no signs of a woman anywhere."

"Touché," Martin replied wondering if she was going to ask about his last relationship but she simply went back to her inspection of his office. He looked over at Milo who seemed to have decided to take a nap in his favorite spot by the heater.

Sam wandered around a little bit before she came to stand next to his desk and looked at the framed diploma's he had hanging on the wall. "Let's see, you got your undergraduate from Stanford and your MBA from Harvard. Ivy League means you must be intelligent. Well, that or wealthy and connected."

"The intelligence part can be debated. My roommate at Harvard constantly made fun of me for going to Stanford – it is west coast you know. Not really ivy league." He leaned back in his chair and rocked it back and forth. "He considered it to be a party school."

She laughed lightly before crossing her arms and asking, "Why Stanford? Why not something on the East coast?"

"It was 3,000 miles away from my parents." Martin replied with a smile remembering how great it felt when he drove across the country and away from Washington D.C. It was the most liberating feeling he had ever felt.

"Gotta love that teenage rebellion." Sam replied amused.

"Where did you go to school?" He asked as he realized that she knew a lot about him but he knew very little about her.

"Penn State." She replied briskly before giving the room a final look around and turning to him saying, "Okay, I'm done here. Let's go check out the guest room."

He quickly hopped out of his chair and followed her out. She crossed the hall and entered the guest room. It was the most sparsely decorated room in the house. It contained a queen size bed, a dresser and a small armoire that housed the television. Its biggest distinction was that the duvet on the bed was a rich crimson red and gold.

Sam walked around the room and said, "So, is this where I would sleep?"

He wasn't sure what she was implying with that comment so she decided to just play it off and said, "Yup."

She gave him an unreadable smile and pointed to a door in the room. "Is that the closet?"

"Yes and no." He walked to the door and opened it. It opened to a small hallway where on each side there was another door. "The closet is the left and the bathroom is the right."

"Oh, nice." Sam smiled as she walked inside to inspect the small rooms.

He held back and sat on the edge of the bed waiting for her, wondering what was going to happen at the end of the tour. A few minutes later she reappeared and leaned against the armoire. "So I guess there's one more room left to see."

He nodded his head and replied, "Yes."

She gave him a coy smile and exited the room. By the time he reached the hall she was moving towards the door to the master bedroom, "So….what's in here?"

He cleared his throat and huskily replied, "That would be my bedroom."

Sam stood in front of the closed door but made no move to enter. She turned around and leaned on the door to face him as he stepped closer to her. He cradled her head in his hands and kissed her; her lips welcoming and accepting. She kept one hand on the doorknob and moved the other to his chest, placing her palm over his heart. He wondered if she could feel it thundering in his chest.

He broke the kiss and opened his eyes to find her watching him expectantly. Her eyes were lighter than he once thought; a pale shade of brown flecked with gold and amber. She looked so beautiful and fragile and suddenly he realized the inevitability of what would happen when they entered the room. He needed reassurance that this is what she really wanted.

He brushed a stray hair out of her face and softly said, "Are you sure about this? Just last night you pretty much told me to back off and now….."

She looked at him with eyes filled with desire and said, "Martin you think too much. In case you forgot I wasn't pushing you away earlier."

He smiled and said, "Of course I haven't. I just want to be sure you aren't just doing this because it's what you think I want. That you have to because you're staying here and…."

She moved her hand to his lips and hushed him. Meeting his eyes she whispered, "Martin, I have a confession: I could have stayed at a hotel. I didn't have to stay here because every place was booked up. I'm here because I want to be here – with you."

He smiled under her fingers and she moved her hand away he could kiss her again.