His Jingle Bell Princess Page 12

  Sam looked down. “Come on then,” he said to the dog.

  He walked to the dish and the dog went with him. But it wasn’t until he pointed to the dish and said “it’s yours,” that the dog began to eat.

  “He’s well-trained,” Jasmine said.

  “Very well-trained,” Sam said. “He’ll need some water, too, girls.”

  They immediately scrambled back to the laundry room.

  “I’ll make some phone calls tomorrow,” Sam said to Belle.

  “Maybe,” she responded.

  He gave her a questioning look.

  Jasmine couldn’t believe Belle had changed her mind that quickly. Had the dog won her over?

  “Another big storm is rolling in,” Belle said. “We might lose phone service again.”

  “Another one?” Jasmine couldn’t believe it might happen all over again.

  “That’s the prediction.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Sam said.

  Jasmine assumed he was talking about the dog. But she looked up and realized he was talking to her.

  “We’ll get you home,” he told her gently.

  “It has to happen eventually,” she said.

  She was less upset than she should have been at another potential delay. And gazing at Sam, she knew the reason why. She could still feel his hand on her shoulder, still hear his evocative words. It might be wrong, and it might be impossible, but she wasn’t ready to leave him. She couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm for getting back home.

  The girls returned with a second plastic tub and headed for the sink to fill it.

  “We have to name him,” Amelia said.

  “We can’t just call him dog,” Sophie said.

  “He doesn’t have a collar,” Sam said. “I checked.”

  “What about Spot?” Amelia asked.

  “He doesn’t really have spots.”

  “Mr. Snowman,” Sophie said. “Because you found him in the snow.”

  “That’s silly,” Amelia said.

  “It’s a mouthful,” Jasmine said, gazing at the dog, trying to come up with something that suited him.

  “Rover?” Belle asked.

  Sam gave her a look. “Really?”

  She shrugged. “It’s tried and true.”

  “Mr. Storm,” Sophie said. “Because you found him in a storm.”

  “Storm,” Jasmine tried out.

  “Hey, Storm,” Sam called.

  The dog looked up. He gave one short bark then went back to eating.

  “Storm it is,” Sam said.

  “Storm, Storm,” the girls chorused.

  “Let him eat.”

  They sobered. “Yes, Daddy.”

  Sophie leaned against her sister. “We’ve got a dog,” she whispered, cheeks glowing and eyes shining.

  “Only for tonight,” Amelia whispered back.

  “We might not find his owner.”

  Amelia broke into a grin at the prospect.

  Belle raised her eyebrows at Sam, a clear “now look what you’ve done” expression on her face. She shook her head and left the kitchen.

  “I think I’m in trouble,” Sam whispered to Jasmine.

  She nodded to the girls. “You’re their hero.”

  Their attention was rapt on Storm.

  “Were you serious about helping with the bath?” Sam asked her.

  “I’ve never done it before. But I’m willing to try.”

  She’d add it to the list of new things she’d tried since landing in Tucker. With some, like flipping pancakes, she been successful. With others, not so much. But they were all interesting. And bathing the dog would keep her with Sam. Right now, she wanted to be with Sam.

  Storm finished his meal, and the girls made a fuss over him for a while, while Sam and Jasmine sat at the breakfast bar and watched.

  “Have you eaten dinner?” He asked his daughters.

  “We had chicken pie,” said Amelia.

  “Then it’s time for pajamas.”

  “Aww. Do we have to?”

  “We want to play with Storm.”

  “We’re not tired.”

  “You can play with him again in the morning. He’s going for a bath now.” Sam looked to Jasmine. “Okay with you if we eat after the bath.”

  “That’s fine with me.” She was hungry, but she could wait. She’d rather get the work done and get cleaned up first.

  Sam came to his feet. “Come on, Storm.”

  Storm immediately obeyed.

  “You could learn a thing or two from him,” Sam told his daughters.

  “Yes, Daddy.” They both gave an exaggerated sigh.

  “Come and give me a kiss.”

  Having accepted their fate, the two girls happily kissed Sam goodnight. Then, to Jasmine’s surprise, they each gave her a kiss as well.

  “Night, Jasmine,” said Amelia.

  Sophie wrapped her arms around Jasmine’s neck and gave her a tight squeeze. “See you in the morning.”

  “Goodnight, sweeties,” Jasmine managed as her throat clogged with emotion. “Sleep well.”

  “Ever done this before?” Sam asked her as the girls reluctantly left the room.

  “This will be a first,” she said, sizing up Storm who looked relaxed and happy after eating.

  This would definitely be a first for her. As a child, she’d occasionally watched the stable grooms lather and hose down the horses. It hadn’t looked that hard, a little messy, maybe. But the horses hadn’t seemed to mind the process.

  “Me neither.” Sam seemed to be sizing up the dog as well.

  “There’s some shampoo in my bathroom,” she offered.

  “You want him to smell like lavender?”

  Jasmine was surprised Sam knew what her shampoo smelled like. Then she was pleased. Then she was aroused. This was not good.

  Sam opened the cupboard below the kitchen sink, extracting a large bottle of blue liquid. “This seems neutral enough.”

  “Do you think the dog will care?”

  “No male wants to smell like flowers. It’s unmanly.”

  “Like wearing pink?”

  “I’m not putting Storm in anything pink.”

  “I meant you.” She realized as she said it that it would be impossible to tone down Sam’s masculinity, no matter what color he wore.

  “Pink? No. I do have a periwinkle dress shirt.”

  “Blue? Your idea of feminine is blue?”

  “Periwinkle isn’t a man’s color. I only bought it to go with one of Kara’s dresses. She insisted. I thought it was silly.”

  Jasmine couldn’t help but notice the casual way in which he talked about Kara. She couldn’t help thinking that was enormous progress.

  “Come on, Storm,” Sam said.

  The dog immediately went to him, falling into step.

  “Sorry about this, buddy.” Sam apologized as they headed through the laundry room.

  “He might like it,” Jasmine offered, hoping her words would prove true.

  “He might endure it without complaint. We guys are like that.”

  She laughed as Sam opened the door to the garage.

  He turned on the light, and they climbed down the short staircase.

  Sam quickly located the old steel tub, pulled it from behind some cardboard boxes, and set it in an open spot on the concrete floor.

  He then located some buckets under a laundry sink.

  “Should we use warm water?” Jasmine asked, joining him there.

  “It might make the experience more pleasant.”

  “I’ve watched the royal—” She quickly stopped herself.

  “The what?” he prompted, positioning a bucked and twisting the taps to full.

  “When I was a girl, I watched the grooms bath the horses.”

  “You have horses?”

  “My family has horses.”

  “Do you ride?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can picture you doing that.”

  “You?” she asked
.

  “Dirt bikes, not horses. When we were teenagers, Brock and I used to tear up the hills out back all summer long.”

  “Melanie said you grew up in Tucker.”

  “All my life.” He hoisted the first bucket from the deep sink, setting it on the floor.

  “It seems like a nice place to grow up. I mean, what I’ve seen of it.” She realized she’d like to see it in the summertime, stroll down Main Street, meet some of the people.

  “It was a great place to grow up. That’s why I’m raising the girls here.” He’d filled another bucket and set it down.

  Storm was cruising the perimeter of the garage, sniffing his way from object to object. The air was chilled, and goose bumps had come up on Jasmine’s arms. But she knew she couldn’t wear a jacket for the dog bath. It would be awkward and she was bound to get wet.

  “Your parents?” she asked. “Are they still living in Tucker?”

  “They retired to Silent Lake. It’s about two-hundred miles north, near the border. We had a cabin there for years and they upgraded it to a house.”

  “Will they come back for Christmas?”

  “They were planning to be here. If there’s another storm coming, they might not make it.”

  Jasmine moved to where she could see out a window toward the streetlight. Sure enough, the flakes were beginning to fall, shimmering through the pool of light, still pretty, even though it meant more chaos.

  “It’s starting to snow,” she said.

  “I guess we knew that was coming.” Sam lifted two of the full buckets and moved them the short distance to the tub.

  “Come here, Storm,” he called, and the dog obeyed.

  Jasmine fished out the hair elastic that she habitually kept on hand. Over the years, she’d learned to be prepared for unexpected wind at unexpected photo ops. Her father hated it when she appeared windblown in the newspapers.

  She fastened her hair back and squared herself up to the wash tub.

  At first Storm looked confused, but when Sam insisted, the dog stepped gingerly into the tub.

  “I wish he had a collar,” Sam said. “If I brace him, can you pour?”

  “Yes.”

  He wrapped an arm around the dog’s neck.

  “I hope you’re ready,” Jasmine muttered as she slowly poured the tepid water over Storm’s back.

  The dog jolted and turned to look.

  “It’s okay, buddy.” Sam crooned. “I know just how you feel.”

  Storm tried to wiggle out of Sam’s arms, but Sam held tight.

  “The soap,” Sam prompted. “You might want to make it fast.”

  Jasmine squirted some dish soap into her hands. Then she rubbed them together and applied it to Storm’s back.

  The dog liked that even less.

  “Hurry,” Sam said.

  “I’m hurrying.”

  She rubbed around his belly, down his legs, and up his neck. All the while, he wiggled harder, panting, and straining to see what she was doing.

  “I’m sorry.” She apologized to him. “But you’ll feel better, I promise.”

  “He’s getting slippery,” Sam warned.

  “Should I rinse?”

  “You better. I don’t know how much longer I can—”

  Storm gave a mighty lunge and broke Sam’s hold. He rushed across the garage, slipping as he turned corners, shaking the foam from his body, sending it flying everywhere.

  “Oh, that’s not good,” Sam said.

  Jasmine couldn’t help it. She rose to her feet and started to laugh.

  Sam shot her a warning look. Then his gaze dropped and held, a hungry expression coming into his eyes.

  She looked down to see her body outlined by the clinging wet t-shirt. She went hot, then cold, then hot all over again.

  Seconds slipped by in slow motion.

  Then he reached out and his hand closed over her shoulder. He gently but firmly drew her forward.

  She didn’t resist, and before she had a chance to think, his lips were on hers.

  They were hot and tender, malleable and mobile. The contact thrilled her to her toes. Heat rolled through her. It might be her first kiss, but her body seemed to know exactly what to do. It molded itself against him, drinking in every nuance of his muscular chest, hard abs, and strong thighs.

  His arms went around her, enfolding her. She felt safer than she ever had before. She wrapped her arms around his neck, touching his hair, reveling in its texture.

  He gently broke the kiss. “Jasmine.” He breathed out a long, satisfied sigh. Then he touched his forehead to hers. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  She gave a little nod of acknowledgment.

  “I haven’t felt this way in a very long time,” he said.

  “Neither have I.” She decided never could be considered a very long time.

  “I don’t know what to do about this.” He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “I’m not… I mean… I guess you know perfectly well where I’m at emotionally.”

  She drew back just far enough to look into his eyes. “I’m not either, Sam. I’m in no position to get emotionally involved with anyone.”

  “I know you have to go home.”

  “It’s more than that.”

  She suddenly wanted to tell him the truth, be honest with him about who she was. But even as the thought formed, she knew it was a dangerous idea. There was no point in telling him, except to bring them closer.

  If she confessed, then they’d share a secret. He might not be comfortable with that. And there was a small chance he’d give her away and compromise her security. The smart move, the practical move, was to keep it to herself for a couple more days and then quietly go home.

  Storm barked.

  Sam looked past her. “I can’t believe I forgot about him.”

  Jasmine turned to see the foamy dog standing forlornly in the middle of the garage.

  “We have to get him rinsed.”

  Sam stepped back, but kept his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you for this, Jasmine.”

  “For bathing Storm?” Or was he thanking her for the kiss?

  “For understanding. For being here. For being you.” He stroked the backs of his fingers softly over her cheek.

  She felt warmed to her soul. “I’m happy to be here, Sam.”

  She truly was.

  *

  Sam woke up happy. It was a strange feeling, a marked difference from every day for the past two years.

  He opened his eyes to see the sky was blue and the sun was streaming into his bedroom. The snowstorm had obviously changed course. Or maybe it had disappeared altogether. He’d hoped so, for the sake of everyone along the eastern seaboard. They’d had enough bad weather to last the rest of the holiday season.

  Storm was asleep on the floor. He’d parked himself in front of Sam’s closed bedroom door last night and stayed there all night long.

  Sam sat up and his movement woke the dog.

  “I suppose you’ll need to go outside right away.”

  Storm came to his feet and stretched, yawning wide. The dog didn’t look like he was in a hurry to do anything, but Sam wasn’t taking any chances. He pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans and threw a t-shirt over his head. If he’d had a leash, he would have taken the dog for a walk. But the back yard was fenced, so Storm could go out on his own.

  Leaving the bedroom, Sam’s thoughts turned to Jasmine. After their kiss, she’d taken everything in stride last night, helping recapture Storm, good-naturedly rinsing and drying him. By now she’d had time to think about it, and he couldn’t help wondering how she felt.

  He’d sure been thinking about their kiss all night long. He didn’t regret it. He’d tried to regret it, but regret was the last thing he was feeling.

  Anticipation was what he was feeling. The anticipation that, despite their mutual pledge and despite all the good reasons to stay away from each other, they might just do it again.

  “What do you think?” he as
ked the dog as he pulled on a pair of socks. “Am I losing my mind?”

  Storm wagged his tail.

  “Is that a yes?”

  The dog wagged harder.

  Sam heaved a deep sigh. “It’s a yes. And you’re right. I have no business desiring Jasmine.” He came to his feet. “Let’s get you outside.”

  Hearing the word outside, Storm perked up.

  “Right. Now that I mention it…” Sam joked. “It’s a good idea, isn’t it?”

  He opened the bedroom door, and the two padded along the hall and down the stairs. Belle was up, making coffee in the kitchen. She wrinkled her nose when she saw Storm.

  “He’s all clean,” Sam assured her.

  “I heard a lot of commotion last night,” Belle said taking two coffee mugs from the cupboard and setting them on the breakfast bar.

  “It wasn’t the easiest operation in the world.”

  “The phones are still working.” Her hint was obvious.

  Sam moved to the sliding glass door and opened it for Storm. The dog hesitated for a moment then leaped in the deep snow, gamely making his way toward the deck stairs.

  “I’ll make some calls,” Sam said. “See if I can find his owners.”

  Sam had mixed emotions about sending Storm back to his owners. He knew it didn’t make sense to keep the dog, and somebody out there had to be missing him. But he liked the animal, and the girls were wild about the idea of having a pet. He found he wanted to give them that small thing.

  Maybe after Christmas they could look at getting a puppy. Belle wouldn’t allow it here. But he knew it was time for them to move home anyway. He’d finish the millwork, get the kitchen up and running, and they could do the rest of the renovations while they lived there.

  It would be easier anyway, no more commuting back and forth. Melanie had offered to watch the girls after school, and he knew the girls would love to spend more time with Libby.

  As the plan came together in his mind, he liked it better and better.

  He caught a movement in the corner of his eye, and immediately knew it was Jasmine.

  “Good morning.” She came in from the living room.

  She was dressed in a pair of sleek, black pants and a fitted white blouse. Her hair was loose and soft, slightly wavy and resting on her shoulders. Her face was even more beautiful than he remembered, and he was immediately flooded by a wave of desire.

  “Good morning,” Belle responded, making Sam realize he’d been staring at Jasmine in dim-witted silence.