A/N and Disclaimer: I own nothing as always thanks for reading and supporting with your follows and reviews. I have been busy reading the excellent fiction that Rontora has brought to the community that I forgot all about updating this story. Please read and review her latest work. It is awesome. Her and Keshbeast among many others keeps us well fed. Words can't express my appreciation for them and the others who contribute to Samcedes fanfiction.

Chapter 10

Cedes

Vail, Colorado

December 19

Cedes opened her eyes as the sun shone through the bedroom window. She stared up at the ceiling above her, then ran her hands across the soft sheets. Her hand hit something—or, more accurately, someone.

Sam Evans.

She closed her eyes and let it all wash over her: the night before, and the amorous session they had participated on the couch. She had asked herself over and over if this was the right thing to do, but in the end, it had felt perfectly natural. And this morning, she felt content and knew she would have no regrets.

She watched Sam for a moment as he slept, then eased out of bed, sliding on a pair of his slippers and a robe.

As she headed to the kitchen to make coffee, she saw her phone, still turned off. She picked it up and looked down at it. Her finger hovered over the power button.

She could handle this, right? Turning her phone on and seeing the messages there? Now that she and Sam were so close they could handle this together, couldn't they? She turned the phone on. It took a moment, but soon as the phone was alit as Cedes had expected numerous unanswered texts and missed calls. Some of them were from Lauren, but most of them were from Will.

Will: Hey, Cedes baby, we're just doing some holiday cleaning at the studio and your master tapes are here. Should they go in the garbage, or are you ever coming back?

Will: Just kidding! I'd never throw them away, of course. ;-) But I'm getting a little worried. Are you okay? Are you snowed in or eaten by a bear? Send me an update on Operation Bring Evans Home ASAP, please.

She groaned and put her phone down. The coffee had finished brewing. She filled two mugs and went into the bedroom. Sam's face was so peaceful. She almost hated to wake him, but they had to talk pronto. About the future that waited in Nashville and their separate and collective obligations. It was strange, though. It all felt like the last thing she wanted to deal with now.

Maybe she could delay reality, just for a little while longer? But no. She was wrong in being intimate with him before having this conversation. It could be construed that she was using her body to make him more amenable to doing what she wanted. Whereas earlier she didn't regret last night, now she was upset by the fact that they didn't talk like she knew they needed to do before becoming intimate. She was in a lose/lose situation. She couldn't win if Sam stayed, and she couldn't win if Sam decided to return to Nashville because of her.

She put the mugs on the end table and dropped the robe, climbing back into bed beside Sam and tucking her body against his. Sam didn't even open his eyes, just sighed and moved against her, too, kissing her softly at first and then with more urgency until they were twisted and tangled in the sheets.

"You sure do know the right way to wake up a man, Cedes," Sam said to her later, with a smile.

"There's coffee," Cedes said, leaning up on one elbow. "But I think it's gone cold . . ."

Just then, McConaughey leapt on the bed and wriggled his way between them. He stood staring at them, his little tail wagging with a hungry look on his face. Cedes laughed and scratched McConaughey's ears, marveling at how at home she felt here. How, in this moment, she, Sam, and McConaughey felt like they belonged together.

"I will go and get your food, McConaughey," Sam said, climbing out of bed and pulling on some pajamas over his boxers.

Cedes leaned against the pillow and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of Sam in the kitchen filling McConaughey's dish with his gluten free dog food.

"Your phone is lighting up like a Christmas tree," Sam said, startling Cedes as he walked back into the bedroom and tossed her phone on the bed.

Cedes picked it up and looked down. Her heart sank and she felt a flash of guilt. There were even more messages from Will now, coming in fast and furious:

Will: I've been thinking about it and you were right that Sam's only true talent is the one he comes by genetically. He's Dwight Evans's son and that means you still need him, but I swear once you're done with him you'll be a star in your own right. I'll make it happen for you. You have my word, and it's obviously worth a lot more than being with Sam Evans.

Cedes winced. She remembered that conversation with Will on a particularly bad day on the tour, when her frustration over Sam refusing to respond to her calls or texts had reached its peak. She had spoken out of anger; she hadn't really meant those things, and had tried to explain that to Will afterward. But Will was the kind of person with a selective memory. The texts were incriminating. It was possible he wanted them to be.

Ding.

Will: I need to know what's going on. NOW!

Cedes looked up from the screen and met Sam's eyes, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Sam, I . . ."

"No, no, don't bother explaining. Those are your personal texts; I was wrong for reading them."

"Yeah you were wrong, but you know what Will is like," she began. "But still, it's no excuse. I should have…"

"This is unnecessary," he interrupted. And there was no mistaking his icy tone. She shivered and pulled the bedding up, covering her body.

"We need to talk about this," she said, but he just shrugged his shoulders and turned away.

"What's there to talk about? Besides, it's obvious you and Will have been talking enough about me and us for the both of us."

"Please, Sam. Just hear me out. I came out here to drag your ass back to Nashville, yes. I was upset with you, and I know you were upset with me, too. We left things on a bad note. But I found something very different here than I expected. This week, you and I have—"

"I told you that this was unnecessary." Sam's tone was so abrupt she felt as if she'd woken from a dream. "You don't need to make a big deal out of this, Cedes."

"Oh, hell to the no, Sam, did last night mean nothing to you?" She stood, keeping the covers tight against her body and picking up the robe she had discarded on the floor earlier.

"Cedes, don't go there," Sam said, and now he looked a bit anguished, but he quickly covered it up, and her heart sank. He looked distant and cold. It was an expression she hadn't seen since they were in Nashville together. It was a Sam she didn't understand. A side of him he didn't want her to understand. The walls were going back up, and she knew it was partly her fault.

"I always knew I had to go back. And I was planning to. You didn't need to bother coming all the way out here. You could have saved yourself a trip, sweetheart."

"Whatever Sam, if you don't want to listen, I have nothing else to say.," was all Cedes could muster out.

But Sam was already gone, the door of the cabin slamming hard behind him.

Sam

Nashville, Tennessee

December 19

The next day, Sam arrived at Will Schuester's recording studio bright and early. He decided he'd wait for Cedes before going inside, and stood in front of the ostentatious and gaudy Christmas wreaths that hung on the doors.

It took everything in him not to turn around and get back in his truck that he should be tired of having spent an exhausting day traveling, but he couldn't get Will's text to Cedes … you were right that Sam's only true talent is the one he comes by genetically. He's Dwight Evans's son . . . and how badly he had misjudged her intentions off his mind. How much of her coming to get him from Vail had been Will's idea? It made him sick, thinking of Cedes and Will working together against him, and it took him back to the night of the finale, when he'd seen them huddled together before she left.

However, there wasn't any time left to wallow. In true Sam Evans' behavior pattern, he planned to ignore all of his problems, in the hopes they would just go away. He would put on that genetically gifted Evans smile and pretend like what Cedes had said to Will hadn't cut him up inside. He would do what he had done his entire life and pretend like he was fine, which he most certainly was not.

"Good Morning," Sam greeted her as soon as she arrived at the studio right on time.

Cedes barely paid him attention, though she gave McConaughey a nice scratch underneath his chin. Sam couldn't see her expression behind her oversized sunglasses, and wondered if her thoughts were as messed up as his were. She'd been upset, too, but he couldn't figure out if it was because he'd seen the text, or because of what Will implied had not been true.

She was wearing a long hoodie over jeggings and cozy boots. The temperature in Nashville was warm in comparison to the weather in Colorado, but Nashville in December was cool enough to require layers. He asked her if she was cold. No shit Sherlock, Sam thought to himself, but damn, he was just trying to make conversation, because they had to work together, and she only shrugged, saying nothing. It was hard to fathom that only a day ago they had been in his bed, together, wearing no layers at all.

Guess this is how we're going to play it. Sam fought the urge to make some snappy comment about her ignoring him but chose not to.

"After you," Sam said, opening the door and letting Cedes walk through first. The bells chimed their arrival—someone had set the tone to "Happy Holidays" which reminded Sam that it was almost Christmas making his anxiety increase. He had pushed things too far, staying so long in Vail. They were quite nearly out of time to write their song.

Cedes stepped into the warm lobby ahead of him, which smelled of apple pie. "Thanks," she said, her voice coming out in a strangled croak.

"Whoa, what's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," Cedes said, but clearly that was a lie. She sounded awful. "Look, I don't need any of your attitude today, Sam."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, confused. What the hell had he done now? She was the one bad-mouthing him to Will.

"This,"she replied, waving her arms between them. Then she grimaced as she swallowed, and Sam's irritation evaporated. Clearly, she was not well.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you really don't sound like you can sing today."

She set her sunglasses atop her head. "You always know just what to say, Sam." Cedes pushed past him as she headed toward the elevators, which were outlined in rows of red and green twinkle lights. Whoever had been in charge of the holiday décor at the studio was clearly a huge fan of Christmas.

"Seriously, do you have a cold or flu?" Sam asked, reaching for her arm before she got too far ahead of him.

She gave him a worried look. "Maybe? It started at the airport yesterday. I must have caught something?"

"Do you have a fever?" He set his coffee on the floor and lay a hand on her forehead, the way his momma used to when he was sick. She did feel warm to the touch.

Cedes shifted away from his touch. "This is bad, Sam. There is no way I can't sing like this. They are going to freak out," she whispered, meaning their managers—and, of course, Will Schuester. It was just over a week until showtime, and today they were supposed to lay down opening tracks with Will for the America's Newest Star Christmas song.

Sam ran his hand through his hair, trying to think. Then he set his fingers under Cedes's chin, lifting her eyes to his. He was on an emotional roller coaster, but now was not the time to get off the ride. Sam pushed down his hurt feelings, focusing instead on this more pressing issue. "Do you trust me?"

"Do I have a choice?" she croaked out, but granted him a genuine smile.

"Good enough." Sam pulled out his phone. While he waited for the person he was calling to pick up, he said, "Hashtag Samcedes forever, right?" Her subsequent laugh, even strangled by her sore throat, was music to his ears.

After a couple of phone calls, the two drove to Lauren's office in Sam's truck, where they sat huddled with April and Lauren at a conference table.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do. We can buy you one day, but that's probably it," April said. Then she turned to Cedes. "Do you need to see a doctor, or do you think it will pass with some rest and lozenges?"

Cedes whispered, "No doctor. Rest should help."

A ribbon of guilt moved through Sam. If Cedes hadn't come to Vail to drag him back, she could have properly rested after the tour.

"Cedes i's a professional," Lauren said. "She's dealt with this before. She'll be good to go by tomorrow."

"Go have a rest day, then, and take care of that throat. But make sure to also be 'seen,' okay?" April raised an eyebrow at the couple, and Sam understood what she meant: make sure the paparazzi got photos.

"What are you going to tell Will? He just texted me, wondering where we are," Cedes asked, the croak in her voice making everyone wince. Sam not only felt pained by the sound of her voice, but also by the mention of Will sending Cedes a text. He pushed the memory of Will's other text aside; he couldn't focus on that right now.

April shrugged. "We'll tell him the lovebirds needed a day off after traveling. Christmas shopping, a nice meal out, yada-yada-yada." Sam swallowed hard at the thought of playing up #Samcedes for the cameras, after the tranquility of Colorado. But he'd faked it before, and he could do it again.

Everything in here is beautiful but too expensive," Cedes said under her breath to Sam. They were in Louis Vuitton at the mall, an ideal place to play up the couple they were pretending to be, and to "be seen," at April's request. "This is beyond my income."

"Louis Vuitton isn't about income level, Cedes," Sam murmured. They'd dropped McConaughey off at the Evans estate. Stacie greeted them and promised to look after the dog, after giving Sam a ten-minute lecture followed by a long hug, and then they swung past Cedes' place, so she could change into something more photo-friendly. The black jeans she'd chosen fit her like a glove, showcasing her sumptuous ass and thighs. She had paired them with a black cashmere sweater and boots, and a white-and-black-plaid wool coat. With her braids in a top bun, Cedes Jones looked the part.

They held hands as they moved through the store. Cedes's fingers felt warm in his, and he almost forgot that things had changed between them. What he wouldn't give to go back to Vail.

But right now, Sam could feel the stares from fans and curious onlookers. He knew they had been recognized, both at the coffee stand where he bought Cedes a hot ginger-flavored tea for her throat and once they'd entered the mall.

"Let's just try to enjoy ourselves," he said, bending his head to hers and murmuring softly. "Go try on some stuff. Don't worry, you don't need to buy anything."

While Cedes looked around, Sam scanned the store and its surroundings. He saw a few cell phones pointed in his direction, and in Cedes', and knew April and Lauren would be happy. Acting unaware of the cameras, he went to the front cash register and leaned across the counter to talk to an employee who was wearing a monogrammed tie and matching pocket square.

A few minutes later Sam headed over to where Cedes stood in front of a mirror, turning this way and that, a cross-body bag swinging against her coat as she did.

"Darling, that was made for you," Sam said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. She startled slightly, but then leaned into him and turned her face, giving him a smile.

"Thanks, hon," she said, and Sam kissed her cheek. In the mirror he could see another cell phone pointed their way, so he stayed like that for a moment, making sure whoever it was got the shot.

Then Sam turned to the saleswoman. "Would you mind giving us a moment, sweetheart?"

Sam felt Cedes stiffen somewhat in his embrace, but at least she didn't pull away from him.

"I have a little something for you," Sam said, his lips close to Cedes' ear. "Close your eyes."

Cedes had a curious look on her face.

"Please," Sam added, watching her in the mirror. She closed her eyes.

He took the scarf he'd just purchased and carefully wrapped it around her neck, making sure it was cozy but not tight. Her hands rose to the material, cashmere, her fingers running the length of it. She raised her eyebrows but kept her eyes closed.

"Okay, open up," he said.

He could tell she loved it. Her eyes widened as she took in her reflection, and her look of surprise was delightful. "Sam, it's gorgeous. And in my favorite color!" She admired the deep purple pattern of the scarf. "How did you know I love this color?" She turned to face him, and her smile this time was genuine.

"You're welcome, Cedes," Sam said, his resolve to remain unaffected by her rapidly dissipating.

"I could sleep for a week straight," Cedes said in her croaky voice.

"If you do, I can't promise you'll wake up to a song you actually want to sing." Sam glanced over at her, glad to see her smile at the joke, even if it was short lived. "Maybe we should skip going out for dinner?"

"No way. I may be exhausted, but I can always eat."

They were seated on a bench inside the vast Gaylord Opryland Resort & Convention Center atrium, Cedes nursing a hot ginger tea and Sam a hot chocolate. The memories had hit Sam when they'd first walked through the front doors of the hotel a couple hours ago. The Gaylord Opryland Resort & Convention Center at Christmas was something else—a must-see for visitors to Nashville during the holidays and going there had been an annual tradition for the Evans family. He had especially enjoyed seeing it from Cedes's perspective, as someone who had never experienced the resort's over-the-top holiday extravaganza. It was beautiful, if not slightly overwhelming for the senses, as the place was also overflowing with Nashville residents and tourists alike. If there was somewhere to "be seen," this was it.

They had already strolled the space, enjoying the lights and the decorations, stopping at the impressive Christmas tree for a few photos and to sign autographs for fans. Then Cedes convinced Sam to take the "cruise," which traveled the indoor river that snaked through the resort and convention center's atrium. It was packed, and they sat shoulder to shoulder. The boat was filled with a group of elderly people on a tour, so no one recognized them. At one point Cedes yawned discreetly, then rested her head on Sam's shoulder. It was the best part of the day, as far as Sam was concerned.

But he knew Cedes was fading. Her voice was a little better, thanks to the copious amounts of warm tea and the throat-rescue lozenges she'd been popping all day, but he could tell she needed to rest to help her immune system fight this infection.

"How about dinner in bed?" Sam asked, once they got off the boat. Cedes raised her eyebrows.

He laughed. "That came out wrong. Let me try that again—why don't we get a room instead of going out for dinner?"

"I'm not sure that's better, Sam," Cedes replied, smiling at him.

"Third time's a charm. I'm going to get us a room here for the night. We can order room service, and you can sleep, and I can keep an eye on you. In case you spike a fever, or need a ginger tea at three a.m."

"I guess that would be the ultimate PR move, right? Staying here overnight? April and Lauren would probably approve." Cedes paused. "Okay, let's get a room."

Sam held out his hand, which she took. But as they walked toward the front desk, she turned to face him. "Don't you think they're sold out?" she said, looking around the packed resort. "This close to Christmas?"

Sam chuckled. "Have you met me yet? I have the last name Evans, and this is Nashville. There isn't a thing my father's name can't make happen in this town."

"Too bad you're so humble," Cedes said sarcastically. "Maybe you should work on that?"

Sam, happy with their truce and avoidance of their problems, tugged on her hand again to follow him to the front desk. "I'll try to work on being humble," he replied. "But only because you asked so nicely."

Ten minutes later, they walked into an enormous suite, with a dining room table and chairs, a living room area with a couch and two nice armchairs, a full bar, and a separate bedroom.

"Wow, this is bigger than my apartment." Cedes said after looking around.

Sam had grabbed some Night Time Vicks Vapocool medication from the hotel's shop; they didn't have the Daytime non drowsy option, but Cedes said she was fine with something to help her sleep tonight, and after Cedes took a dose they ordered room service—a fried chicken plate for him, hot chicken noodle soup for her, and ice cream for dessert. Soon after, Cedes started yawning.

"Let's call it a night." Sam tugged back the duvet, and fluffed up the pillows on the king-size bed.

"I don't have a toothbrush," Cedes said. "Or anything to wear."

"Here, you can wear this." He handed her a monogrammed robe. "And I bet there's a toiletries kit in the bathroom."

"Thanks," Cedes said, her fingers brushing his as she took the robe from him. A shot of electricity moved through Sam, and he cleared his throat and took a step back.

"Why don't you get ready first?" Sam said. Things felt different between them here, much more complicated than they'd been in his cabin in the Colorado mountains.

Cedes got up and headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth, probably shower and change into the robe. He didn't need to think about her naked and wet in a hot, steamy shower, so he pulled out his phone to distract him. You need to focus on the music. On writing the new song and that's all.

He answered Apri's texts and she notified him that their day had been a success. There was tons of coverage in the media about Sam and Cedes's Nashville staycation. He checked Instagram—finding screen after screen of tags—and scrolled the photos (he and Cedes snuggling on the cruise, him laughing at something she'd said; the two of them in front of the Christmas tree, his arm around her shoulders and grins on both their faces). They certainly looked like a couple who were in love.

The bathroom door opened and Cedes stepped out in a robe far too long for her. She laughed as she held out her arms, the fabric hanging far beyond her tiny hands. Sam helped her roll up the arms of the robe. Then he folded the bedding down and Cedes sank in sliding under the Egyptian cotton sheets and letting Sam tuck the duvet up around her shoulders.

"Sometimes you can be such a gentleman." Her voice was low and she looked exhausted, but she gave him a smile that reached her eyes. It made him feel good as hell.

"I can't remember the last time I felt this exhausted." Cedes shifted closer to Sam. He lifted one arm so she could get into the crook, and she lay her head against his chest. Could she feel his heart beating so fast?

"You've earned a night's rest, sweetheart," Sam said, pulling her a touch closer. "Go to sleep."

But she shifted onto her elbow until they were facing each other. "I'm really sorry about those texts." She paused for a moment, and he heard her breath hitch. Then she cleared her throat, which still sounded sore as heck. "I wasn't at my best. I was angry at you for ignoring my texts and calls and told Will those things in the heat of anger. You didn't deserve that. And for what it's worth, I didn't believe it. I just wanted to hurt you because I felt that you were hurting me. I and the world know that you are incredibly talented, all on your own."

His mind whirled in a dozen different directions, and he tried to focus on slowing racing heart. He smiled at her, then nodded. "I understand."

She returned the smile, a look of relief coming across her face. "You're one of the good ones, Sam," she murmured, snuggling into the crook of his arm. She yawned again.

"Ah, that's an amazing compliment coming from you," Sam replied, certain now there was no way she wouldn't feel his heart beating practically through his chest.

Cedes went still for a moment, and he wondered if she'd fallen asleep. But then she spoke, and her voice was sleepy and soft.

"Sam, at the cabin, there was something I really needed to let you know . . ."

He waited, but when her breathing evened out Sam knew she had fallen asleep. Whatever she'd been about to say would have to wait until morning. He picked up his cell phone and clicked on #Samcedes tag on social media and scrolled through the posts of the images of the two of them from today as he held her in his arms.