Thanks so much for the reviews. I can't take any credit other than my many mistakes when I add my two, three, or ten cents into the story by Ms. Roxy. I hope your day is merry and bright instead of just freezing cold. I just looked at some pictures that my nephews cooked and decorated cookies for Santa and I couldn't even identify them as cookies. When the youngest tasted their creation, he was like no thank you Santa definitely can have them LOL. Kids give me so much joy this time of year. Merry Christmas to you all and if you don't celebrate just enjoy the Samcedes craziness that is coming your way today from me...

Chapter Two

Mercy poured coffee into three cups and passed them out to her sisters. They were all seated in her townhouse. Their father, in his infinite wisdom, had converted a three-story building into independent townhouses and had gifted one to each of his daughters before retiring to Florida with their mother. Mercy got the middle one. Since the sisters all worked together, it was nice to have their own space, along with the ease of being able to meet up whenever the occasion demanded.

She was telling them about her day spent with Sam Evans. "So we stayed in the mall for almost four hours until the storm cleared. And then he insisted on escorting me home not knowing that I never go to the mall without my piece of steel for protection from thieves and crazy people when I am alone."

"Wow, you let him walk you home after his attempts of getting to know you better because we all now that white boy got a case of jungle fever," said Jane as she ate the waffles Mercy generously made for breakfast.

"Jane!" Mercy said about to tell her sister off when Sheila interrupted to bring peace and harmony at the table.

"Don't pay her any attention. Who even in her generation says jungle fever anymore? She is only teasing you. But, I have to know if you did make it home okay without him trying to kiss you again?"

"I am sure Mr. Evans escorted her inside the townhouse and not only kissed her but made wild love to her as well. You see that short skirt she has on. She knows she creates sex riots when she wears it. Look at her, she hasn't glowed like this in forever. That trouty mouth psycho done rocked her world."

"Shut up Jane!" Mercy said refusing to get riled up by her baby sister. She was used to Jane's comments. "None of that happened because he didn't even come inside."

Jane cocked an eyebrow. "Did he want to come inside sexual double entendre intended?"

"Jane!" Sheila, the middle sister, scolded. "Stop it. I'm sure it wasn't like that." She turned to Mercy and winked mischievously. "Right, Mercy?"

"That's right," Mercy said knowing it was time to shut this conversation down.

Jane drowned her waffles in blueberry syrup "You don't actually believe her, Sheila?" She laughed.

"Regardless of what Jane says he walked me to my door and headed home because it was quite late. He was a complete gentleman."

"Why even bring him up then?" asked Jane as she cut her waffle and took a healthy bite. "That whole story was just boring as hell!"

"Don't listen to her. I'm sure he wanted an opportunity to apologize and make it right with you. He is a war hero, and I am sure when he was serving our country it was hammered into him about being an officer and a gentleman," Sheila said.

Mercy didn't want to add that she didn't think Sam had only an apology on his mind. He was clearly interested in her. Why else would a man sit with a woman for over three hours and talk about everything under the sun. It had been so easy to talk to him. In fact, once she got over her initial reticence, it was fun to discuss things with him. He was a famous and best-selling artist/writer. Jane had once boasted that she'd actually read his graphic novels, and they were good. Not only was Sam a good-looking, and easy going guy, he was also talented. The woman who left him at the altar must have been out of her mind.

But what irked Mercy was the fact that he didn't ask her for her number or anything. He said good-bye and left. What the hell was that about? Of course, she would have said that she wasn't interested if he'd asked her out, but the fact that he didn't, kind of pissed her off.

"It was nice of him not to want any of his money back after the wedding never even happened," said Sheila.

"That is why we have contracts. Maybe he actually read his. If events are cancelled due to anything other than our fault, then our clients have to pay ninety percent of the costs. So he didn't ask for the ten percent that he could have. There really was no reason to. His guests ate the food and enjoyed the music and the venue. We did our job. It wasn't our fault that his intended did a disappearing act right before exchanging the vows. More importantly, I don't remember you telling us was he a bad kisser or were those thick trouty lips able to deliver what they advertise?" asked Jane.

"I can't believe you are asking this but no." Mercy was sorry that she'd told Jane about the kiss. But at that time, she had been shaken up. Now, her sister would love to rehash every memory of that experience. And truth be told, Mercy didn't want to discuss it. It was something private.

"What do you mean? No the kiss wasn't good? Or was the kiss so hot that you can't tell us for fear that we will chase after him and experience that pouty mouth for ourselves?"

"Jane." Sheila was the sensitive one in the family. "Stop it. And by the way, you're going to be late for your appointment with the manager of the hotel today. If you don't reach him on time, he might avoid you yet again."

One of their payments was due from the account of a new hotel, and the manager was doing his best to delay paying them. Jane was meeting the man face-to-face to settle their account. "I should go then." She gulped down her coffee and stood. "Mercy, a piece of advice. If you see that Sam guy again, run in the opposite direction. I wouldn't put it past him to try and sneak another kiss. After all, that's all the guy got for the whopping amount of money he paid us."

After Jane left, Sheila cleared the table. "Don't listen to Jane."

"Like I ever do. If I hadn't seen mom's tummy during her pregnancy, I would swear she was adopted. She definitely took after our mother's side of the family. Mom said she was her sister Roz all over again."

Sheila rinsed the plates. "She is like that because she is the baby and always wants to be the center of attention because all of us spoiled her butt her entire life, and she doesn't know how to function otherwise, so she continues to say these things all for the attention that she has grown accustomed to receiving. But I do find some of the things she said today to be true. Do you think you'll see Sam Evans again? Perhaps you should call him? I agree with Jane, he has you glowing, and he didn't even touch you."

Mercy sighed. She wasn't sure if she wanted to see that man again. He was just too unpredictable. The way he kissed her that day, she never forgot it. And it appeared that he never forgot the kiss, too. While she was with him in the café, Mercy felt the same stirrings of attraction and lust she had after their kiss. Sure, he was a good-looking guy who was not interested in a rebound relationship because it was almost a year after he was jilted. But did she want anything more with him?

Could she date a former client whose wedding she had planned? No, it would look bad without it not even being a year after he was jilted. He just wanted to apologize to her. Nothing more nothing less.

Besides, she shouldn't want anything else with him.

Although Mercy was quite sure that her sisters suspected that she was more than interested in Sam, she didn't want to talk it about it or think about him anymore.

"I'm sure I won't see him again. We certainly don't move in the same circles," she assured her sister. "Is everything in place for the Fabray Party?"

Getting the hint, Sheila didn't ask anything else. "Yes. I'm baking the cake today. It should be ready for delivery by five tomorrow evening."

Mercy didn't like to miss any details. "The party starts at six. It might be better if you were on-site with all the food at five."

"Okay. I'll adjust my schedule to make sure I am early and not precisely on time."

Despite their different interests and temperaments, the sisters worked together well. It was easy to work with her siblings, as they were all good at what they did. It had been Mercy's idea to start a business together four years ago, and she didn't regret that decision. It was good to work with her sisters who she trusted and even when they disagreed they always put their love and respect of each other first and were able to make sound business decisions.

"If you give me a minute," said Mercy. "We could leave together for the office."

"Sure." Sheila picked up her purse. "If you want to take some time to come in later today, I could handle things for a while."

"Thanks, sissy, but I'm good." Mercy loved her job. She didn't want to miss a single moment of it. After locking up, she went downstairs and joined her sister. They marched towards the subway and caught a train to their office. Mercy immediately got busy checking everything for the party they were booked to work tonight.

Jane walked in after two hours. She waved the check she held in her hand. "He made a hundred excuses, but I told him I wouldn't leave until he signed it over." Jane raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Can you believe the nerve of the guy? He's back here again."

Alarmed, Mercy stood. "The hotel manager followed you to the office?"

"Oh no, not him." Jane took her seat and deposited the check on the desk. "It's that dumped groom, Sam Evans. He's in the lobby, asking for you."

"Sam Evans is here? In the office?" Mercy's skin prickled with awareness.

"Yes." Jane nodded. A smile hovered on her lips. "I was tempted to tell him to get lost, but I thought you might want to have a word with him yourself."

Mercy couldn't imagine a single reason why Sam would come to her office. They had barely left each other ten hours ago. What did he want to say now? As she marched out of the office, she heard her sister humming. "He's got jungle fever; she's got jungle fever."

Jane really was too much at times, and why would Sam Evans visit her in the office? Did he perhaps have another event in mind for them to handle? As she entered the lobby, Mercy was shocked to see the bouquet of violet calla lilies in his hand. "Hi Sam."

"Hello." He thrust the flowers at her. "These are for you."

Knowing that the receptionist was watching them with interest, she took the flowers rather than make a fuss. "Why?"

"Just because." Sam's smile was heart-stopping. "Do I need an excuse to bring flowers to a pretty lady?"

She ran her hand through her braids as she tried hard to understand what was going on through those green eyes. Man! But she got a jolt every time she looked at him. "I guess not. Thank you but you shouldn't have."

"What's your phone number?"

"Umm…why?"

"I sort of lost it after the unfortunate event," he referred to his failed wedding. "Actually, I threw my phone against the wall in a fit of anger. Served me right! Had to spend money to purchase another one. And of course, there was the added hassle of trying to get back everyone's number. The good news is that I got rid of all of Charlie's friends and family because they could no longer contact me."

"Okay." She gave him the number. She couldn't understand this man. Why didn't he ask her yesterday for her number after they spent so much time together? And what did he want it for? Was he planning to ask her out on a date?

He keyed the number into his phone. "Thanks. I'll see you around."

After he walked out, she simply stared at his retreating back. What the hell was that about? She glanced down at the beautiful flowers and resisted the urge to push her nose in and sniff deeply. The man was confounding and interesting. She couldn't predict his next move. And that is what made him all the more enigmatic.

When she walked into the office, Jane took one look at the flowers, stood, walked over, and took out an empty, ceramic vase from the cabinet. "That man sure has smooth moves." She handed the vase to her sister.

Mercy filled the vase with water and put the flowers in. She took a moment to admire them. Calla lilies were her favorite. Did he know that or was this a coincidence? A small smile lit her face. "He sure does," she agreed with her sister, set the vase on her desk, and went back to work.

Why the hell would he bring her flowers for no reason?

What was his motive?

These questions and more plagued her as she went about her work. The man was so unpredictable. Did he do this on purpose? Was he deliberately keeping her off balance? But why? Surely, he wasn't into her that way. No. She didn't think so. She was the complete opposite of Charlie if she was his taste in women: tall, skinny, blonde, crazy, and fake.

Could it be that he wanted the opposite to not risk having his heart broken again along with the public embarrassment of being left at the altar in front of all his loved ones?

Rather than dwell on Sam's motives, she forced herself to focus on her work. There were a lot of projects that she needed to schedule so they would not be overbooked. After they finished for the day, Mercy and Sheila made their way home together. Jane disappeared because she was meeting some friends. After bidding Sheila good-bye in the elevator, Mercy opened her door and stepped inside. After a shower and eating lasagna for dinner, she checked her phone again. There were no phone calls from Sam Evans.

The flowers, the wanting her number, and the visit to her job: was she misreading his signals?

He was occupying too much of her mind with his ubiquitous gestures. Why the hell did he take her number when he wasn't going to call her?

As if he could hear her thoughts, the phone rang. Her heart thudded wildly when she glanced at the ID and noted who the caller was. Butterflies, or better yet hummingbirds, fluttered their wings at the pit of her stomach. She cleared her throat. "Hi."

"Hey. How are you doing? I hope I didn't disturb you," he asked in his low, throaty voice that always managed to remain upbeat.

"No, I was just…getting ready for bed."

A pregnant pause followed her declaration. "That has put an image in my head that I definitely like."

Mercy gasped in shock hoping that he didn't think she was flirting with him. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm fully clothed."

"Now, I'm even more interested," he admitted. "I can just imagine peeling those clothes off your amazing body."

"Mr. Evans, don't say these things," she admonished. Mercy didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his bold sexual repartee. "We don't know each other well enough for you to make those kinds of jokes."

"I assure you that I would like to get to know you well enough in every way," he told her. "Are you willing to see where this goes between us?"

She was getting more and more confused…and aroused. "What are you talking about?"

"About us getting to know each other in that manner in every manner that a man and woman can get to know each other." He chuckled, obviously delighting in her apparent discomfort. "I'm all for it."

Mercy's head was spinning. "We…well, you…"

"Don't tell me that you're holding me getting dumped against me. It wasn't my fault, I assure you. I plead insanity…for my past choice in an ex-fiancée."

She giggled. "No, I certainly don't hold it against you. It's just that I don't know you at all."

"And that's exactly what we will try to change by spending time with each other and going on dates."

"Dates?"

"Yep."

Mercy wasn't sure of what she wanted to say. She was definitely attracted to him. But did she want to date him? Why the hell not? Something tugged at her mind. She recalled that Christmas kiss. It was the hottest kiss she ever experienced. And if he could reduce her to that state with a kiss, what would happen if she actually dated him and made out with him over and over again?

"I'm quite busy."

"If that's your excuse to brush me off, you're out of practice. The good news is that I have inferred from this conversation that you're not currently dating anyone."

Oh hell! She should have told him that she had a boyfriend. Well, she missed that chance.

"So I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"What's happening tomorrow?" she just told him she was too busy to date him.

"Tomorrow's another day, Mercy," he said before ending the call.

Mercy stared at the wall for a long time. What the hell was the man trying to do to her? He was deliberately tying her up in knots. And she didn't like it one bit.

If that's the case then, why am I smiling? Mercy admonished herself as she lay down to sleep. Knowing that she was going to date Sam Evans whether it was a good decision or not.

Sam whistled as he closed his laptop. He'd done surprisingly well for the day. Five chapters into the story, and he was enjoying himself. When the writing went well, there was nothing quite like it. He was naturally gifted as an artist drawing the pictures flowed easily from his stylus, but writing had been a chore when he was younger because he was dyslexic. Being able to have software that corrected his spelling allowed him the freedom to express himself in the written word that used to be lost to him. He loved the fact that he could come up with the pictures and the words without any problems. It was as if they just flowed out of him. After the non-wedding his creativity had dried up. But now he was inspired and looking forward to this being one of his best works ever.

Picking up his phone, he called Mercy. He'd been calling her regularly for several days in a row now. She still hadn't given him a time for a date, but he was confident that he would get there eventually. After his ex-fiancée left him, Sam swore off women. About two months after Charlie had dumped him, his friends started getting on his case. They told him that it was time to get off his ass and start socializing again. Just to get them off his back, he agreed to go on a blind date with a woman his friends insisted was perfect for him. The date wasn't unpleasant, but there was no spark, even though she was a lovely, bright, and accomplished woman. They both mutually agreed that there was no need for a second date. But the truth was that the problem was his. He didn't want to open himself up to more heartbreak at the hands of a woman. But now, Mercy made him think otherwise. Maybe he could take that risk with her. Something inside him sang when he was with her. "Hey!" She picked up on the second ring. He'd learned to read her mood over the phone. She sounded upbeat today. "How is it going?"

It was the perfect moment to push his case forward. "I'm a bit down. It's the weather, I think. It's depressing, isn't it?"

"Not really. But is there anything I can do?"

Ahh! The perfect plan fell into place. "Actually, you can. I think dinner with you might improve my mood considerably."

"You smooth operator." She laughed. "Don't you ever give up?"

"No. I'm going to hound you until you give in and agree to have dinner with me."

"Alrighty, then."

"What do you mean by 'alrighty then'?"

Her laughter filled his ears. "I just agreed to have dinner with you."

Sam couldn't believe it: finally. "How about tomorrow? Six o'clock? I'll pick you up."

After they agreed on the time and place, he talked with her for a while discussing the events of the day. She'd recently landed an important gala event. It was a big contract, and she was delighted. As always, he was impressed by her love for her work. It wasn't her whole life, but it was a big part of it, and she relished the opportunity to have her company become successful and viable in today's uncertain market. He liked women who could stand on their own feet and be independent and strong. Mercy was all that and more.

The next evening, he brought white orchids for her. Her eyes softened when she looked at them. "Thank you, Sam, they are beautiful."

Sam fought for his breath. Although her green dress was long, it didn't hide her curves. The V-neckline, as well as the fabric knot which shirred at the center front, emphasized her full, voluptuous breasts. Her brown skin glowed and she looked edible. The strappy heels highlighted her legs making her appear taller than her petite five foot three height. In short, she was captivating. He couldn't take his eyes off her. "You look incredible."

"Thank you." Her eyes sparkled at the compliment. "Why don't you come inside while I put these in water?"

Her townhouse reflected her personality. It was warm and inviting, with a touch of class no gaudy paintings of herself like his ex had on her apartment walls. It was tasteful but showed her personality and reflected her personality: practical but enchanting.

"If I tried to take care of a plant, it would die within days. I've a black thumb as opposed to a green thumb." He said when he walked to her veranda and saw her greenery.

She put the orchids in a crystal vase. "My sister, Sheila, and I are the ones who have the proverbial green thumb. But God forbid if anyone gifts a plant to Jane, the youngest of us. She would forget to water it."

"Yeah, I'm like that. Only a little worse because I would over water it to make up for the days of neglect." He tried to keep his eyes off her amazing backside as she pampered the flowers. My God! How could he behave like a school boy with his first crush? He longed to take her in his arms and plant a kiss on her lips. But slow and steady was more his style. Although in this case, he wanted to be quick and ready.

"Let's go." She picked up her purse, put her phone inside, and beamed at him. "So how was your day today?"

"My detective found another murdered body in Central Park," he announced as they stepped out. "He's trying to figure out if the cases are connected and whether or not he has a serial killer on his hands."

"I don't know how you manage to dream up all these terrifying plots and come up with different characters and have to draw them doing the actions you are describing. Sounds like a lot of work."

"And I have no idea how you can plan an event for three hundred people and don't buckle from the stress of it. But to each his or her own. I love my work, although of course, sometimes it can be a solitary experience. But generally, I enjoy sharing the characters who live in my head with others."

"I am too much of a people person to be able to do it. Does it get lonely?"

"It's not lonely when you've got car chases, kidnappings, burglaries, murders, mysteries, and other weird stuff going on. In fact, it's more exciting than the mundane life that we live on a daily basis," he said as they walked out of the building.

"I must pick up one of your novels and read it," she said as they strolled towards the parking lot. Once they got into his car and drove off, she adjusted her seat belt. "My sister, Jane, is a huge fan. I like reading romantic suspense more so than edge of the seat thrillers, but I am willing to take a chance on one of your books."

Sam kept his eyes on the road although the intoxicating scent of her perfume was driving him mad. He wanted to turn back, go into her apartment, and make love to her. But this was their first official date. What he had in mind was still far into the future, but he longed for the day when he could have his arms around her. As they braved the traffic, they talked about inane stuff. Mercy was a good talker, but she was also a good listener, and he found himself telling her more about his struggle to get published than he intended.

"It was after the twentieth rejection in six years that I decided to just self-publish my first graphic novel," he told her as they entered the restaurant. Their table was in the corner. After they were seated, they accepted the menus from the waiter. "It took almost a year through word of mouth, social media, and book clubs to have the book became a surprise best seller on Amazon in the digital format, and then I was offered a contract to publish it with a publishing house that had refused me earlier. I decided to go against the grain and publish it myself and after my third best-seller, I set up my own LLC publishing house."

"And then there was no looking back after that, right?"

"If only it was that easy," he said. "I published four books before I began to see any real money because with a publishing house you have people working for you for all the business side of things like printing presses, distributers, bookstore contacts, advertising, etc., but now that I look back, it was a fun time. The uncertainty, the insecurity, all added to my work. But I'm glad I've passed that stage. Each book is an inner struggle. Is it good enough? Will the readers like it? Will it sell? I'm always a nervous wreck just before each book is released. But then aren't we all? I'm sure you must be going through similar anxieties with each event you plan and undertake."

"Yeah. Something like that," she admitted. They placed their order. "Jane was telling me that you're going on a book tour soon."

"In about six months."

They began to talk about the demands of a book tour, the insane schedule, and the constant uncertainty about whether he'd meet people or end up sitting in a bookstore with nothing to do if people didn't show up. Sam enjoyed talking to Mercy. It was easy and stress free. He didn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing or making a faux pas. She was nonjudgmental, and since she'd already seen him at his worst (when he got ditched) he didn't have to pretend to be better than he was.

And the most significant thing of all was that she seemed to like him for who he was. Nothing could beat that feeling of satisfaction, knowing that she didn't care about his work, money, or his social status or any of the things that seemed to be important to his ex. With Mercy, he was just an ordinary man and she was an ordinary woman. And yet, together, they were extraordinary. She told him about her childhood, the sweet memories of her time with her sisters and parents, and the sadness that overwhelmed her when she reflected on how her parents were now so far away in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Of course, she was happy for them. They were having a blast on their own, enjoying retirement, and relaxing on the beach every day not far from the home they owned.

"Are you going to visit them for Christmas?" He sure hoped not. But of course, she might prefer to spend that time with family.

"My parents are going on a cruise this year. Usually, they come here to be with us. Sheila, Jane, and I don't go out of the city. In fact, we always spend Christmas Eve night at the St. Jude's Children's Hospital. It's our adopted charity."

He was amazed to hear it. "That's great. What do you guys do?"

"We decorate the tree with them. Sheila cooks her scrumptious cookies. Jane sings carols and we join her. She's a good singer and could have chosen it as an alternate career, but she likes what she does. Great for me, as I couldn't find better singing partners than my sisters. We always sung at church as kids and even one time sang at the Apollo. My anxiety and Sheila's stage fright make the both us stay away from the stage, but Jane loves performing for an audience."

"And do you bring presents for everyone?"

"Yeah, we do that. There are never that many there for Christmas, we call the hospital beforehand and divide the total by three, so each one of us buys gifts for some of them. In fact…It might be a bit too early to ask, but…" She paused and looked at him with a speculative gleam in her eyes. "May I ask what your plans are for this Christmas Eve?"

"I have no plans at all." Sam shrugged. "We usually have a nice family dinner, but this year they're going on a holiday cruise together, and I said no to them a long time ago when they asked me to join them." He winced. "I guess I've been in a bad mood ever since that fiasco happened."

Mercy placed a reassuring hand on his. "That's perfectly understandable. It happened on Christmas, a day that's supposed to be filled with joy and happiness. Instead…"

"Yeah, instead, I was the dope who had a fiancée that went AWOL."

Mercy squeezed his hand. "So would you be open to joining us for Christmas Eve at the hospital? I know it's last minute, but I am sure the staff and parents will enjoy meeting a famous graphic novelist."

How the hell was he supposed to say no? And why would he do so when he was getting the perfect opportunity to spend time with the woman he desired above all and at the same time to do a good deed? "It sounds like a plan. I'm in. How can I turn down an opportunity to interact with current and maybe future fans?"

"Great. They'll all be thrilled."

After dinner was over, they strolled back to his car and he dropped her home. As he helped her out of the car, Sam was aware that his heart was thundering loudly in his chest.

"I had an amazing time," she said.

"Yeah, me too." He stared into the depths of her dark eyes. Something stirred. He could see it but couldn't decipher it. Was she feeling as unsettled as he was? "Can I see you again? How about coffee tomorrow?"

She laughed. "Aren't you supposed to wait for a few days to call me? I thought smooth operators liked to make the women hang in suspense?"

Sam held her hands in his. He was past the point of caring if he looked like a besotted fool. He was one. And surely, she could see it. Why pretend? Besides, he'd been pursuing her. Today was the first time she'd given him an opening, and he wasn't going to risk losing his momentum. It was onward and upward from now on.

"I don't like playing games," he said in a firm voice. "But I do like you. More than like, in fact. I think I'm falling fast for you. It's never happened before like this with me. It seems like a whirlwind ride to me, one that's spinning so high and fast, I can't seem to catch my breath."

"Same here," she admitted.

He was happy that she shared his feelings. Was he going mad? What was this they were feeling? Could it be love?

Surely not!

The thought spun through his mind, leaving in its wake a kaleidoscope of mixed emotions. He didn't want that. Not now, not when he was barely getting back on his feet. He was probably just dissecting the situation too much. It was much better to just go with the flow and see where this led.

"So coffee tomorrow?"

"Sure." She agreed. "I would love that."

And from that moment, Sam knew that his life was on the right track. If this was love, he welcomed it with an open heart. With Mercy, his heart was safe. She would never hurt him. Mercy was one in a million, and he was lucky to have found her.

Sam bent forward, drew her in his arms, and claimed her lips. The kiss was sweet and soft. At once, his mind was flooded with memories of his first kiss with her. He'd been upset and out of his mind then, but even so, she'd left an impression on him. Now, he could see why. The scent of her, the feel of her, was enough to drive him mad. Desire burned through his veins as he pressed his body tightly against her. He never wanted the kiss to end. As his tongue danced with hers, his senses went into an overdrive.

When he stepped back, Sam was staggered by the emotions that swirled in his heart.

"You're unbelievable."

She laughed. "So are you, Sam Evans. Now come on, off you go before we both do something we'll regret."

"If I promise not to have any regrets, can we do it anyway?"

She giggled at the woebegone expression on his face. "No, we can't. Now, off you go. I'll see you tomorrow."

At least, he wouldn't have to wait for long to see her gorgeous face. As he waved his hand and reluctantly stepped back into his car, Sam was happy to note that things were progressing much faster than he anticipated. He couldn't have foreseen a better end to their first official date.