Thank you all for the replies/feedback on the last update! How awesome was Curse from a rose?...here's an update! It hasn't been edited much, just an fyi. The link below is a song that gave me a great deal of inspiration for the second half of the chpt. Let me know what you think!

watch?v=A5pX1YpFPgg

12

Do you see what's going on in the front seat?!

Swiping the message up, Nick ignores the text from Grace, who is sitting right beside him in the back of his Dad's car. He's well aware that his Dad has reached across the console to hold Cassie's hand.

NICK?!

Rolling his eyes, he texts back.

So?

His one word answer is enough to drive Grace crazy and her fingers are flying over her phone in response. He goes back to playing his game. When his Dad had told him about the last minute trip to the city, it had never crossed his mind that they'd be going without Cassie and Grace. He didn't feel like he needed to adjust to this new dynamic in their lives, because Cassie and Grace were always there.

His game is interrupted with Grace's text.

Nevermind.

Exhaling, he looks over at her but her attention is out the window. He opens a new message.

Look…I know this may be weird for you bc of your Dad. It's weird for me too….I don't think I've ever seen my Dad hold my moms hand like that….it's weird seeing him all…lovey dovey.

He waits as her phone vibrates and she reads his message. She types back.

…I was actually going to say how adorable they look.

He shakes his head, sending her back the barf emoji, causing her to laugh beside him.

. . . . . . . . . .

Grace grabs her bag from the trunk of Sam's SUV, wheeling it into the lobby with Nick. She can't help but smile at the way Sam takes her moms bag, carrying it for her. She follows them to the desk, helping herself to the bowl of mints on the counter.

"Good evening," the desk clerk greets. "Are you checking in tonight?"

Sam nods. "Yeah…we've got two rooms reserved under the name Radford."

The clerk searches the name up on the computer. "Here you are; one with two doubles and one with a queen."

Sam shakes his head. "I think there's been a mistake; I booked two double rooms."

The clerk searches again, shaking her head. "I'm sorry Mr. Radford; the reservation was upgraded to a queen to accommodate another quest."

"I'm not sleeping on a cot," Nick chimes in.

"Grace and I can take the queen," Cassie adds.

The desk clerk slides the keys across the counter to them, and Graces takes them, handing Sam the one to the queen. "You and Mom take the queen, and Nick and I will take the two doubles. Problem solved."

Sam's face is a little surprised, and her mother opens her mouth to say something, only nothing comes out.

"Sounds good with me," Nick shrugs. "We can order room service, right?"

Grace heads towards the elevator, Nick on her heals.

. . . . . . . . . .

Sam sets their bags on the luggage stool and she can feel the tension building between them.

"…The reservation is in an hour at this Italian place just down the street."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she kicks off her shoes. "I know I said I'd go with you…but I think it would be better if it was just the two of you."

Sam shakes his head, his hands on his hips. "I disagree; you can sell Middleton better than I can."

"Amy didn't agree to the interview because of me," she points out. "The possibility of working with you drew her to Middleton….if anything, I'll only make things worse-"

"-I don't blame you-"

"-I know you don't. That doesn't mean that I don't feel in some way responsible for her turning down the offer, Sam."

Crossing the room, he sits beside her and the bed dips a little under his weight. "Maybe I want you there to keep me grounded."

She sifts her fingers through his hair, settling at the nape of his neck. "Trust me on this?"

He exhales, looking down. "Alright."

It's the first time she's ever seen him doubt himself and there's a vulnerability in the way he avoids her gaze that resonates with her. "Forget all the reasons why it won't work, and believe the one reason why it will."

He smiles, looking over at her. "Buddah?"

"Cassie Nightengale," she corrects, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips.

. . . . . . . . . .

Waiting at the bar, Sam checks his watch for what seems like the millionth time. Amy isn't late but his gut is telling him that something's not right. They're two hours away from Middleton and yet it feels like there's still a cloud hanging over him, something lurking just behind him.

They had all assured him that they were staying in the hotel to order room service.

They're safe.

He exhales, rubbing his face.

Maybe it's the fact that his position as chief of staff is riding on this meeting.

"Hi Sam."

He turns, greeting Amy with what he's sure is a strained smile. "Hey….it's good to see you again."

She nods. "You too. Do you want to grab a table?"

"Yeah, sure." He follows her into the restaurant taking the seat opposite her. "Thanks for meeting me on such short notice; I know you're flying out in the morning."

"I felt I owed you as much…I did leave Middleton rather quickly. How's Cassie?"

He isn't surprised at her question and regrets not having Cassie here with him. "She's a bit shaken. I'm not sure if you know this, but her shop had been vandalized a few weeks ago too."

Shock crosses Amy's face. "That's terrible!" She opens her mouth to say something, but thinks better of it.

"…One thing I've come to learn about Cassie is that she's incredibly resilient."

"She's fortunate to have someone like you in her life."

He shrugs, shaking his head. "I think I'm the lucky one, really. Before moving to Middleton, before meeting Cassie…I don't think I had the capacity to care…to love, the way I do now. Moving to Middleton…changed everything for me."

A waiter approaches their table, asking if they'd like menus.

"No thank you. We won't be here long," Amy answers.

His stomach knots. As the waiter heads to another table, he accepts defeat. "…Where ever it is that you end up, Amy, you're going to make an incredible difference, I'm sure of it."

She's taken aback a bit, but she smiles, nodding. "Thank you; that means a lot, coming from you."

They both rise from the table, and she extends her hand, to which he accepts without hesitation. "Safe travels."

"You too."

. . . . . . . . . .

Sam can hear the laughter outside of their room and it adds a little levity to his defeated mood. Knocking on the door, Nick answers.

"Hey," he greets, stepping out of the door to let him in. Grace lounging in the chair pyjama-clad and sharing what looks like a pepperoni pizza between them.

"This movie makes no sense," Grace comments.

"That's the beauty of it," Nick states. "It's funny because it makes no sense."

Grace frowns. "That makes no sense."

Nick shakes his head. "Want some pizza?"

"No thanks…I just wanted to check- in."

"How'd your meeting go?" Grace questions.

He shrugs, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Not the way I was hoping."

"That sucks, Dad."

"Yeah, it kind of does," he agrees. "Don't stay up too late, alright? And no more room service….I'm going to call it a night."

They both wish him goodnight, and he lets himself out heading across the hall to his own room. The lights are dimmed, and he loosens his tie.

Cassie emerges from the bathroom wearing one of his t-shirts. It barely skims her thighs and he can't help but follow the length of her bare legs.

"Hey," she greets. "How did it go?"

He takes his time sliding his gaze up to hers, and suddenly his meeting with Amy is the furthest thing from his mind. "Not good."

"She turned down your offer again?"

He nods, tossing his tie into his open suitcase.

She's there, in front of him and her hands slide up his chest. "I'm sorry, Sam."

"Me too." Reaching for the hem of his shirt, he tugs on it gently. "I'm fairly certain this is mine," he comments.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"About my shirt?"

She smiles. "About Amy."

He shakes his head, tugging her against him. "I'd rather talk about my shirt." She settles next to him, her arms sliding around his neck. Her fingers sift through his hair gently. She's silent, waiting, and he finds himself exhaling. "I don't want to talk about it." Sliding out of her arms, he side-steps her to the bed. Sitting, he takes his time untying his shoes.

She kneels at his feet, taking the laces from him. She removes his shoes, tossing them towards the door. Her hands slip under the hem of his pants, and she pulls the socks from his feet one at a time. When she's finished, she rises to her feet, moving to straddle his lap.

He welcomes her weight, letting his hands coast up her thighs.

Her fingers are at the buttons of his shirt, and he watches her face as she undoes them, one by one. She's removed her makeup and he's not sure he's ever seen her look more beautiful. Her hair falls into her face and he reaches out, tucking it behind her ear.

Her gaze lifts to his and he's got an arm around the small of her back, lifting her to the bed as he stands. He takes his time with the rest of the buttons on his shirt, undoing his cuffs before removing it.

She holds his gaze for the longest moment, before she reaches for the hem of his shirt, tugging it over her head and tossing it to him. Catching it, he's frozen a minute at the sight of her.

She scoots further up the bed and he crawls after her, tossing the t-shirt on the floor. Settling next to her, her hands coast up his arms softly, exploring the feel of him. He lets his gaze drag over the valley between her breasts, the perfect peaks waiting for his mouth.

He sweeps his hand down her chest, her abdomen and back up, watching her breath hitch as she inhales. He traces the underside of her breasts with his fingers and she wiggles beside him.

She's ticklish.

He draws slow circles around one peak, and then the other. "Is this where you wanted my hands?" He questions.

"mmmmm," she murmurs.

Dragging his fingers down her chest, he circles her belly button before gliding over the delicate lace at the apex of her thighs. "And here?" Her eyes close and he leans in, his lips close, but never touching. "Do you want my hands here?" He whispers in her ear.

"Yes."

She inhales sharply as his hand slides beneath the lace and through her folds. Her slick heat is a giveaway to her arousal and he watches the pleasure flower across her face. There's a faint smile tugging at her lips and they part just enough, before she's got her bottom lip between her teeth.

Her hands reach for him, and she's got his pants undone around his hips. He kicks them off and she's shimming out of her panties and it's quick and effortless and so right when they finally connect.

He holds himself within her for a minute, wanting to just feel.

"Sam," she calls softly.

Settling into the cradle of her body, he presses his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Her legs wrap around him and he begins a gentle rock to which she meets.

There isn't any rush. They've got time.

Finally.

Her hands slide up and down his back, sift through his hair. Her lips dance with his as they each explore unabashedly.

This.

This.

She sighs into his mouth, a soft burst of pleasure as she arches into him, her nails pressing into his back. She trembles next to him and he's learning her tells, learning her body as her orgasm flourishes.

A delicate moan slips through her lips and she's there.

"Don't stop," she pleads.

He feels it, the minute she falls over. The way her body tenses then relaxes into soft, warm heat. It's enough to send him over and she's pulling him next to her as his own body tenses in the wake of his release.

This.

It's a minute before either of them are coherent. Lifting his head out of her shoulder, her gaze is heavy, but there's a soft smile on her face.

He brushed the hair from her eyes before leaning down to tease his lips against hers. "Did I tell you where I want your hands?"

She smiles, rolling over to straddle him.

Tbc