A/N and Disclaimer: I own nothing as always thanks for reading and supporting as always I hope it's understood, how I appreciate the kind words of encouragement. Still no effective communication between these two which should mean no intimacy but when do they ever do what I want in a story...

Chapter 9

Sam

Vail, Colorado

December 14

Sam didn't sleep the first night Cedes was in his cabin. The sleepless night meant he'd finished another art project. When he checked on her, she just lay in his guest bed, obviously exhausted from the tour, the flight to Colorado, and the accident with the snowbank. She desperately needed the rest. He only woke her to keep her hydrated and offer a little nutrition in soda crackers to help with the nausea from her hangover.

Now it was the next day, and he glanced at the closed guest bedroom door, behind which Cedes slept. He hoped she slept through most of her hangover the night before. Her hangover got him thinking about the bar, their karaoke singing . . . that kiss. Sam could still feel the softness and warmth of her plump lips, which had been a welcomed contrast to the chilly temperatures last night. He could still smell the heady cocoa butter scent swirling around them, the taste of spicy cinnamon on her lips, the feel of his heart racing like a herd of wild mustangs.

A pained groan sound could be heard from the guest room. Sam rapped his knuckles softly against the door. "Cedes? Are you okay?"

There was no answer, and he pressed an ear to the door. Hearing nothing still, he knocked again, a touch louder. Another low groan in response.

"I've got you some coffee," he said.

"Okay, thanks," Cedes mumbled. He heard the sound of items shifting on the nightstand, then a loud thud followed by some cursing.

"Are you alright?"

"Sorta," she strangled out. Sam knew from personal experience that Firewater hangovers were the worst and could last longer than a day if you weren't used to drinking.

A few minutes later Cedes emerged from the guest room, and Sam handed her a glass of water and two pain pills, for which she seemed grateful. Then he filled a mug—the saying "Great Music: Better Than Therapy" on its side—with coffee.

"Thanks. I really needed this." She took a sip, but then cringed as she put her hand on her forehead. She looked sick around her mouth, the dark circles under her eyes even more prominent today. "My memory is spotty, and what I can remember, well, I hope it isn't true?"

Sam's stomach flipped. Was she regretting the kiss? Well, of course she is, you idiot, he thought. Cedes Jones needed Sam, but not in that way. She had drunk too much—he couldn't read into anything about last night.

But then she said, "Did I get sick? Outside the cabin?" She looked mortified. "Oh God, I did. Didn't I?"

He was relieved. So, it wasn't about the kiss after all. "Don't you worry about that."

Cedes put her coffee down and covered her face with her hands. "This is so embarrassing." Then she looked at Sam, her brown eyes holding his green ones. "Did anything else happen?"

Sam paused, remembering the feel of their bodies pressed together, full of desire, white-hot even through their layers of winter clothing. Things could have gone differently when they'd returned to Sam's cabin, but he would never take advantage of a situation like that.

"Joe Hart, Brittany's boyfriend, gave us a lift back on his snowmobile, and then you wisely got rid of everything on the snowbank. Don't worry, I held your braids back," Sam said, chuckling slightly at the look of horror on her face. "Then I gave you a big glass of coconut water and got you to bed."

"I appreciate you getting me back here in one piece." Cedes rubbed her temples and looked around the cabin's living room. He tried to see it through her eyes. It was rustic but plenty comfortable, with warm touches, like art on the walls and a large stone fireplace. The fire Sam had started crackled and cast a bright orange glow into the space.

"It's really cozy. The perfect spot to recover from too many drinks." She gave him a weak smile. "Thanks again for taking care of me, Sam."

"You're welcome," Sam replied. "I would love to say it was a pleasure…"

She snorted. "I highly doubt that it was."

He smiled, then handed her a fluffy white bath towel. "A hot shower will make everything feel a little better."

After he heard the water, Sam stoked the fire and tried to avoid thinking of Cedes in the shower. Instead, he thought about how he'd carried her into the cabin and tucked her into bed. He liked taking care of her. Sam wasn't sure about a lot right now, but that much he was certain about.

An hour later they sat on the couch in the living room, the fire raging and keeping the cabin toasty. The snow came down steadily as they listened to Pentatonix's Christmas album and drank hot cocoa. Cedes was dressed head to toe in red-plaid fleece loungewear, which had been his sister's and fit her surprisingly well, if not a touch long in the arms and legs. Cedes had lost a lot of weight on the tour. All that dancing and little time for sleeping and eating was known to cause artists to lose weight while on tour. Her cheeks were still full and she had a sorta glow on her face from when they'd taken McConaughey out on a short walk about twenty minutes earlier.

"Hope the cocoa's not too hot," Sam said, joining her on the couch with his own mug, marshmallows swimming on its surface. He patted the cushion between them for McConaughey. "Come on, boy. Up."

But McConaughey stayed where he was—sitting on the floor beside Cedes.

Cedes dipped her spoon into the mug and pulled out a marshmallow. She picked it up with her fingernail and held it out to McConaughey, who gleefully ate it.

"Cedes! He shouldn't eat marshmallows!"

"I think he should because he obviously likes them. I don't care for them. I prefer whipped cream or the mini ones in my cocoa." Cedes replied.

"Well, before today he's never eaten marshmallows. Who knows what that's going to do to his digestive system." Sam pointed at Cedes. "You are cleaning up the mess if he gets diarrhea."

"I'm fine with that," Cedes replied. "You know, I don't blame you for running away."

"I wasn't running away, " he said. "I just needed to think, to work without distraction, and this is where I feel my best."

Cedes took another sip from her mug. "Why this place?"

"My mom was from Colorado. Did you know that?" Some days he couldn't believe she was gone, even if it had been years now.

"I didn't."

"She grew up in Colorado Springs, then came to Nashville to do what singers who want a record deal did."

"Well, she certainly followed through on her plan," Cedes said. Sam felt pride at that, and gratitude toward Cedes for recognizing his mom's talent even though her career had been short. By the time Sam was born, Mary Ellen Evans was nearly as famous as her husband, but had happily left the stage for the role of mom. She had been the most constant, loving being Sam had ever known, and part of him had disappeared after she died.

"You must really miss her. I really do understand why you ran—sorry, came back here. This is where you feel closest to her."

"It is," Sam said softly, then he cleared his throat. "So, how about a refresher?"

Cedes held out her mug, and he noticed a little cocoa above her upper lip.

"You've got a little . . ." Sam put his finger on his lip.

Cedes looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"Here. Let me." Sam took a napkin and shifted closer to her, gently pressing it against her lip.

Their eyes locked and Sam held his breath. Her eyes still on his, Cedes leaned forward slowly and gently brushed his lips with hers.

Goodness Gracious. He cupped her face with his hands, kissing her deeply. Forget what everyone said about the magic that happened when they sang. This kiss put their onstage chemistry to shame.

All he could think about was how good her lips felt against his, the tantalizing taste of her: sweet cocoa and marshmallow. Until he heard her whisper, "Wait . . . Sam."

Immediately, he pulled back. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure."

"Are you going to throw up on me again?"

"Oh my God . . . Did I throw up on you?"

"Stop worrying," Sam told her. They were inches apart, the heat of their bodies adding to the warmth of the space. Sam wanted nothing more than to keep kissing Cedes, but only if she wanted the same thing. "You don't have to, you know, do this."

"I will say the same to you." Cedes raised an eyebrow, and when he raised an eyebrow back she laughed, before kissing him again.

Once they broke apart, Sam touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. "I . . . I need to tell you something."

Cedes looked at him in concern. "What is it?"

Sam could barely concentrate. His heart raced, knowing he was about to let his guard down and not knowing how his next words would be received.

"I know our history is . . . complicated, but I don't want to be fake with you, Cedes."

She was silent. Sam held his breath until he couldn't bear it any longer. "If you don't feel—"

"I don't want to be fake with you, either," she said at the same time.

Sam felt a weight lift off him. And then confusion set in again. "Wait, you know what I mean, right? Like, I can't pretend to have feelings for you, because I have feelings for you."

She leaned in and whispered, "I have always had feelings for you, too, Sam Evans, in case that hasn't always been clear."

Sam

Vail, Colorado

December 15

"Cedes!" Sam scrambled to his feet and raced down the hill toward her. He knelt beside her. She was crying, but not out of pain. "Are you . . . Wait, what's happening?"

Sam was now regretting her coming out sledding with him after they had eaten a late brunch. Being in the cabin alone was proving too much temptation for him. He knew they needed to talk before they took things to another level in their relationship. He also knew she needed rest and relaxation coming off a big tour like that, and he wasn't sure he would be able to keep his hands off of her now that they had admitted they still had feelings for each other. They needed to talk, date, and actually trust each other before deepening their relationship. So after cooking brunch together, he suggested that they go sledding and was surprised when Mercedes agreed to accompany him out in the cold snow. And now she had surprised him yet again smiling after falling off the sled. She would never stop amazing him.

Cedes was laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath. "This is so fun!"

Sam laughed, too, then sat beside her in the snow, relieved she wasn't hurt.

"This is the most fun I've had in a really long while," Cedes admitted.

Sam reached out and reset her hat so it covered her ears.

He was just about to kiss her nose, when she said, "I know you don't want to come back to Nashville, Sam. And being here, well, I can't say I blame you. But you need to, okay?"

Sam sighed. "Can we not do this right now?"

"If not now then when?" Cedes asked, with a lilt of frustration. "I know it's easy to ignore our 'Nashville problems here, but—"

"I don't have a Nashville problem," Sam retorted. He grabbed a handful of snow, formed it into a ball, and then tossed it down the hill. A second later it disappeared into the white abyss.

"Yes, you do; more than one," Cedes said. "And it's just not you we do. It's almost Christmas. We have yet to record our song. We're on contract. You know what Will is like. A lot rests on what we do next. Careers depend on us, Sam, and not just our own."

If only he had the guts to tell her precisely what the issue was: that he was terrified of going back, because he finally felt like himself again. Sure, he wasn't making music the way he'd hoped, but cabin life here in Colorado suited him. Here no one gave a shit about his fake celebrity life or his dad being Dwight Evans, and he got calls not for an autograph but to help dig out a vehicle that was stuck in a ditch or snowbank. The thought of being back in Nashville took all those good feelings, wound them up together, and set them on fire. If only, he and Cedes could stay here indefinitely.

"I'll think about it," he finally replied, instead of being fully open and honest with her.

She gaped at him. "Do you have any idea of what your decision is doing not only to you but the rest of us?"

"Please don't ruin this, Cedes." Sam stood then, brushing snow from his pants. He immediately regretted his tone. Why did he have to go and mess up what had been one of the most amazing days of his life?

Cedes angrily stood up and stomped past him, ignoring his offer to help her up. He watched her slip and slide up the hill, muttering to herself as she did.

"Cedes, please don't go."

She turned back, hands on her hips, her eyebrows raised questioningly. Looking exquisite, like an African Snow Queen, but pissed off.

Sam grabbed the sled's rope, then walked to where she stood. "Can we put this on the back burner for now? We're stuck here for a few days at least, until these snow storms pass, and I can think of better things to do than fight."

The weather report was calling for yet another blizzard, right on the heels of the last. The little ski hamlet had barely begun to dig out from the first dump of snow, and flights were all canceled. Sam knew from experience they weren't going anywhere anytime soon. He said a silent prayer of thanks to God, because being snowed in with Cedes Jones was exactly what he hoped for but had been too afraid of ever praying for.

He reached his hand out to help her, and after a moment of hesitation, Cedes took it.

"I know I'm a pain in the ass, Cedes," Sam said, holding her hand tightly. "Can we enjoy this winter wonderland and take a break from our 'Nashville problems,' just for a few more days?"

Cedes set her hands on his shoulders, which wasn't easy due to the snow boots, height difference, and uneven ground. She huffed in frustration, but then kissed him.

"Fine, Sam. I will call a truce but know it is only temporary," she said.

Sam grinned, then let go of the sled's rope and wrapped his arms around her waist. "You know, I was going to suggest another ride down the hill, but you seem like you've caught a bit of a chill."

"Maybe we should head back inside?" Cedes said, even though she was plenty warm in his arms.

"I think that is a great idea." Sam nodded, then turned around. "Hop on."

Cedes laughed. "You're going to be able to piggyback me up this hill?"

"I sure am, darlin'." Sam gestured for her to jump on his back.

Cedes jumped, but the bulkiness of the ski outfits made it tough for either of them to get a solid grip, and they fell sideways.

She landed on top of Sam, and it winded him slightly. "That went differently in my mind," he finally said, laughing.

"I actually think this turned out okay." Cedes shifted so they lay facing one another, the deep snow creating a nest around them.

"Me, too," Sam said, thinking about nothing but the feel of her warm lips on his, the snow falling steadily around them.

Cedes

Vail, Colorado

December 18

Cedes sat on the deep, comfy couch in Sam's cabin, half watching her favorite holiday movie, The Preacher's Wife, and half watching Sam, who had fallen asleep with McConaughey on his chest. In between Sam's soft snores, Cedes could hear the tiny puffs of air whistling out of McConaughey's adorable snub nose.

She looked out the window. It was snowing outside—it seemed to have been snowing steadily since she arrived here, four days earlier, but the flakes were lighter today, dancing down from the sky and floating in front of the window like white fireflies.

She eased herself off the couch, careful not to disturb Sam. They had been up late the night before. She had found the game Monopoly in a dusty box in one of the cupboards. It had been a favorite in the Jones household when Cedes was growing up. "My grandma loves this game," Cedes had said to Sam when she discovered it—and then hadn't known how to correct herself. So, she hadn't. She had decided not to bring her sadness into the happy moments they were having. She and Sam had curled up on the floor at either end of his live-edge wood coffee table, wrapped in blankets. They drank fragrant, hot tea and laughed together, learning a new game as the fire crackled behind them. And it had been, like so much of these recent days with Sam, perfect.

The truth was, Cedes was happier than she had been in a long time, isolated here in the snowy mountains with Sam. She was seeing another side of him—and liking what she saw. The rest of the world seemed like it existed in another universe. So she had decided she wanted to keep it that way, for just a little while longer.

She went into the guest bedroom and sat down on the thick quilt. Cedes had been sleeping alone at night, while Sam slept in his own room. They were constantly touching one another—kissing, holding hands, cuddling to watch movies, but things still hadn't gone further than that. Not yet. But here, in the quiet and calm of Vail, their chemistry might actually have staying power instead of ending up a failed reality showmance.

She closed her eyes and recalled their good-night kiss. With Sam's lips on hers, Cedes had felt an inferno of heat rising within her, and she wanted to pull him gently into the bedroom with her. But then McConaughey had started whining to go out and the moment had passed. After that, Cedes had cuddled under the thick blankets alone, listening to Sam out in the main room, shutting things down for the night. She had wondered if taking things further would be a good idea. She was still wondering. She knew it would be good between them, but their relationship was already so complicated.

Her stomach started to growl, which interrupted her thoughts. Back out in the kitchen, she opened Sam's freezer and looked inside. They'd eaten its contents over the past few days—frozen pizzas, mostly—and all that was left was freezer-burned ice and something unidentifiable in a Ziploc bag. The fridge wasn't much better: mustard, a few beers, coffee cream.

She closed the fridge and made a decision. Then, she walked to the door and picked up a pair of snowshoes.

The clock was ticking, and Cedes knew it. She had turned off her phone, but when she finally turned it on again it would be overloaded with messages. Everyone in Nashville wanted Cedes and Sam to come back to town.

Outside, the air was fresh and cold. Cedes breathed it in deeply. The snowflakes were gone, and the clouds above were thinning. Rays of sunlight cast ladders into the distant mountain range. Although they got snow in Lima, it was not like the snow here in Colorado. Although, she still felt at home in the winter wonderland. Sam's cabin wasn't too far from the town, only about a half hour down a gentle mountain slope. Soon, the little town came into view: the Holiday's shop, the tavern, and the tiny general store.

The snow may have stopped, but the main road hadn't been cleared yet. The only traffic was of people on cross-country skis or, like Cedes, on snowshoes. Cedes was charmed; it looked as cozy and endearing as a holiday movie setting.

As she passed the Holiday's shop, she saw Holly standing outside, closing the hood of a pickup truck with chains on its tires. She smiled and waved when she saw Cedes plodding along the snowy street.

Cedes stepped into the tiny general store and found a bag of frozen shrimp and a bake-from-frozen baguette. She added a dusty box of penne to her basket, as well as cream, parmesan, lemon, garlic, and a container of cherry tomatoes. She even found California strawberries in the small produce section. "Lucky girl," the man said when she got to the checkout. "Those go fast." She added a package of taper candles to her basket, and she was done.

After she paid for the items, she packed them all into the small backpack she had brought along and headed back up the mountain to Sam's cabin. She felt her anticipation grow with every step. She had only been away from him for just over an hour, but she missed him. And it was a good feeling.

Sam was just waking up when she opened the door. He rubbed his bleary eyes, confused. "Where'd you go?"

"Just into town," Cedes said, closing the door behind her.

"You should have woken me, I would have come with you."

"You looked so peaceful, and you were obviously worn out from my kicking your butt all night at Monopoly."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well I believe I held my own until you got all the utilities and railroads."

Sam stood and greeted her with a kiss, but then frowned when he noticed her phone sitting on a side table. "You really should have brought your phone with you, Cedes. It's not safe to be trekking up and down the mountain without it."

"It's not snowing, there was plenty of light, and it's a direct and easy path from your place to town," Cedes reminded him, but she was touched by his worry for her. She picked up her phone but couldn't turn it on, not yet. She didn't want to think about the real world. She would focus on their safe little haven inside the cabin instead, making it a perfect night.

"What do you have there?" Sam asked, coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist, then nuzzling her ear. She leaned into him.

"I'm making you dinner," she said.

"Now, wait a minute. You can sing, you're smart, you're not so bad to look at, and you can cook food besides breakfast food. I am one fortunate man!"

"You really are," she said with a smile.

"What can I do to help?" he murmured, his face close to hers.

"Well, as enjoyable as this is, it's probably not helping much," she said. She pulled away from him reluctantly and gave him the cherry tomatoes to wash. "Maybe put on some music when you're done?"

He went to put on a record from his mom's extensive collection of vinyl. She smiled as the familiar music from Nat King Cole began to play.

"My grandma loved—" she said, then stopped and swallowed hard.

"I bet she loves this album."

"Oh yeah." Cedes recovered as fast as she could. "It's her favorite. One of mine, too. Good choice, Sam."

Outside, the sun was starting to set and the light in the cabin was dim. Sam found old wine bottles to put the candles in, as well as a dusty bottle of brandy in a high cupboard. "No idea if it'll be any good," he said as he popped the cork. He brought her a glass and kissed her nose. "Thanks for doing this, Cedes. You're making me feel really special."

Cedes kissed him back, banishing the sadness she had been feeling earlier about her grandma. But, she decided as she took a sip of wine, she was going to tell him about Grandma during their meal. She knew she had to let him in. It would hurt, but then it would be over.

The meal came together quickly, a dish her mom had taught her to make. She explained the steps to Sam as she sauteed the shrimp in butter and garlic, added the tomatoes and cooked them until they burst, splashed in some of the cream, and plated it with parmesan and lemon wedges.

"Cedes, this is really good," Sam said, taking his first bite of the pasta when they were seated at the table.

"It's really nothing," Cedes said. "But I wanted to show you how much I appreciate . . ." She looked around her at the cabin, which looked especially enchanting in the flickering candlelight. "All of this. This week was just what I needed."

He looked at her for a long time, the candle flames dancing in his eyes. "Me, too, Cedes," he said gently.

"There's something else I need to talk about," Cedes said. Her heart was pounding, but she knew what she had to do.

"Anything, Cedes," he said. She took a deep breath—and then noticed a red spot on his neck.

"Sam! Are you having an allergic reaction?"

"Oh. I'm okay," Sam said, looking a little embarrassed. "You were about to tell me something?"

"Sam . . . are you . . ." She looked down at the shrimp tails on her plate, then back at him. "Are you allergic to shellfish?"

"Allergic would be too strong a word. It's not fatal or anything. I just get a temporary rash when I eat shellfish. I had sort of hoped I had grown out of it. I really didn't want to tell you I couldn't eat the meal you were making me. It's no big deal, really."

Cedes jumped up from the table. "Sam! You should have told me. You could end up with anaphylaxis. You risked your life to eat this meal. I could have cooked the shrimp separately.!"

Sam laughed and stood, catching her by the arm and pulling her gently toward him. "Cedes, I am not going to die."

"Do you have any Benadryl?"

"I don't think so. I really think I'll be okay. I feel fine."

"Okay. Well, stop scratching your arms. Take off your shirt," she commanded.

"What? What does that have to do with—"

"Just to make sure it isn't getting worse," Cedes said.

Sam did what he was told, revealing his firm, muscled chest—no rash.

Had he stopped breathing, or had she? She looked up at him and saw that his expression wasn't pained—he was watching her, his eyes now full of the same desire she was feeling.

"I really think you should take off your pants, too. Just in case," she suggested, her hand hovering above the waistband of his jeans.

Sam merely nodded, undoing his zippered fly and then taking off his jeans. A moment later he stood in front of her, wearing only a pair of boxers. There was no question what was going through his mind.

"Well, this took a turn, didn't it?" Cedes murmured, very aware of how little clothing Sam was now wearing.

"It did. And now that you know I'm okay, I think it might only be fair if you take your clothes off, too," he whispered, helping her stand back up. "I mean, only if you want to . . ."

"I do," she said quickly.

"Happy to help," Sam said, his fingers gently tugging on the hem of her shirt.

She gave a nod and lifted her arms, allowing him to pull her shirt over her head, leaving just her lacy black bra on. "I'll get that in a sec," he murmured, his breath hitching, making her knees quiver.

"You're so perfect," he whispered, touching her shoulders, moving his hands down and around her back to undo her bra. His movements were slow, yet purposeful. "Okay?" Sam asked, his fingers on her bra clasp. She nodded, and a second later the bra released. He slid the straps from her shoulders, allowing one hand to graze her breast, setting his other hand on her waist. In one swift move he pulled her to him, kissing her hard. She gasped, locked her arms around his neck, and kissed him back. These kisses were different from the ones they had shared over the past few days. They were deep and hungry. They both knew what they wanted.

She kissed his face, his chest, making her way down his body until she reached his boxers, which she tugged down without a moment's thought. He groaned, then said, "Time to even things up again," and tucked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear, pulling them down with the same determination she had. They stood there for a moment like that, both of them breathing heavily, both realizing what this meant: there would be no turning back now.

Cedes reached out and let her fingers intertwine with his, then she led him to the couch and pushed him against the cushions, letting him take a good look of her naked body; she had never felt so wanted. He made a sound in the back of his throat and reached for her. She let him pull her on top of him, the two of them breathless and wanting. They stayed like that for a time, Cedes moving against Sam until she was almost dizzy with desire.

A moment later Sam reversed their positions and began to eat her out, and Cedes quickly maneuvered them into the 69 position. "Oh, Cedes," Sam whispered against her, the heat of his breath agonizing against her skin after their simultaneous orgasms.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Cedes told him later after they washed up and were now in his bed together. He clasped her hands in his, then set them against her lower back, pulling her deeper into a cuddle. "But I'm not sorry about cooking and feeding you shellfish despite your allergy anymore."

Sam chuckled, leaving a trail of soft kisses across her collarbone, Cedes shivered in his arms, even though she felt she was burning up. "I've never been so happy about anything in my life," he replied.