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Sam turned in the chair and looked out at the night. The lights glittering in the Salt Lake Valley below smudged the horizon with a glow that dimmed the stars. His gaze shifted, sweeping across the resort, where lights were golden, tossing puddled yellow illumination on the snow. It was pristine, beautiful, and he’d missed the place.
Acknowledging it was hard, but Sam knew that coming back here eased something inside him that had been drawn tight as a bowstring for two years. Coming home hadn’t been easy. He’d spent the past two years trying to convince himself that he’d never come back. Now that he was here, though, there were ghosts to face, the past to confront and, mostly, there was the need to make a kind of peace with Lacy.
But then, he thought as he stood and walked out of the office, maybe it wasn’t peace he was after with her.
* * *
For the next few days, Lacy avoided him at every turn and Sam let her get away with it. There was time to settle what was between them. He didn’t have to rush, and besides, if he made her that nervous, drawing out the tension would only make her more on edge.
And that could only work to his benefit. Lacy cool and calm wasn’t what he wanted. The temper she’d developed intrigued him and made him think of how passionate she had always been in bed. Together, they had been combustible. He wanted that back.
He glanced at her and almost smiled at the deliberate distance she kept. As if it would help. As if it could cool the fires burning between them. The day was cold and clear and the snow-covered ground at the summit crunched underfoot as they walked toward the site for the restaurant he was planning.
Tearing his gaze from Lacy momentarily, Sam studied the snack shop that had been there since before he was born. Small and filled with tradition, it had outlived its purpose. These days, most people wanted healthy food, not hot dogs smothered in mustard and chili.
“What’re you thinking?” Lacy looked up at him, clearly still irritated that he’d dragged her away from the inn to come up here and look around.
He glanced at her. “That I want a chili dog.”
For a split second, the ice in her eyes drained away. “You always did love Mike’s chili.”
“I’ve been all over the world and never found anything like it.”
“Not surprising,” Lacy answered. “I think he puts rocket fuel in that stuff.”
Sam grinned and she gave him a smile in return that surprised and pleased him. A cold wind rushed across the mountaintop and lifted her blond braid off her shoulder. Her cheeks were pink, her blue eyes glittering and she looked so good it was all he could do not to grab her. But even as he thought it, her smile faded.
“I think we’ll keep the snack shack for old time’s sake,” he said, forcing himself to look away from her and back out over the grounds where he would build the new restaurant. “But the new place, I’d like it to go over there,” he pointed, “so the pines can ring the back of it. We’ll have a deck out there, too, a garden area, and the trees will provide some shade, as well.”
She looked where he pointed and nodded. “It’s a good spot. But a wood deck requires a lot of upkeep. What about flagstone?”
Sam thought about it. “Good idea. Easier to clean, too. I called Dennis Barclay’s construction company last night and he’s going to come up tomorrow, make some measurements, draw up some plans so we can go to the city and line up the permits.”
“Dennis does good work.” She made a note on her iPad. “Franklin stone could lay the gravel paths and the flagstone. They’ve got a yard in Ogden with samples.”
“Good idea. We can check that out once we get the permits and an architect’s drawing on the restaurant.”
“Right.” Her voice was cool, clipped. “We used Nancy Frampton’s firm for the addition to the inn.”
“I remember.” He nodded. “She’s good. Okay, I’ll call and talk to her tomorrow. Tell her what we want up here.”
She made another note and he almost chuckled. She was so damn determined to keep him at arm’s length. To pretend that what they’d shared in the office last night hadn’t really happened. And he was willing to let that pretense go on. For a while.
“As long as you’re making notes, write down that we want to get some ideas for where to build an addition to the inn. I want it close enough to the main lodge that it’s still a part of us. But separate, too. Maybe joined by a covered walkway so even during storms, people can go back and forth.”
“That’d work.” She stopped, paused and said, “You know, a year ago, we put in a restaurant-grade stove, oven and fridge in the main lodge kitchen. We’re equipped to provide more than breakfast and lunch now.”
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