Free Unexpected Gifts by Bronwyn Green Page A

admit to Sam that she’d been feeling too sorry
for herself to go have fun with her family. “It’s not up for
discussion.”
    He studied her for a moment then pulled out a
tinfoil covered plate from the box and peeled back the covering.
“Cookie? Fudge?”
    He snagged a piece of fudge from the plate and bit
into it, closing his eyes and groaning. The ragged sound settled
deep in her womb, filling her with impotent longing. She forced
herself to take a step away from him. Rounding the counter, she
reached into the box to unpack the rest of whatever her mother had
sent. Under a loaf of what could only be cinnamon bread was a pile
of presents in brightly colored wrapping paper.
    Sam gently knocked her hand away. “Uh-uh. Those are
for Christmas morning.” Taking the box, he wandered into the living
room then the dining room and back to the kitchen. “Where’s your
tree?”
    “I didn’t put one up this year.”
    He laid his carpentry-rough hand across her
forehead. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you are sick.”
    “Funny.” She shook off his touch. “I just didn’t
feel like it this year.”
    “In high school, you put up a Christmas tree in your
bedroom every year right after Thanksgiving dinner, because you
insisted that the family tree wasn’t up long enough for you to
enjoy.”
    She shrugged. “Things change.”
    He frowned, set the box back onto the counter and
stared at her, looking as though he was weighing his words very
carefully. He finally shook his head and said, “Not really.”
    “What do you mean?”
    He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and
she tried not to shiver at his touch. “They don’t really change.
For instance, Tyler is still the asshole he always was. Just
because you know about it now doesn’t make it a new
development.”
    She supposed he was right. Just because she’d been
blind to the fact that Tyler was a jerk for the bulk of their
relationship didn’t mean that he’d suddenly turned into a lying,
cheating man-whore. He’d always been one; she’d just been
stupid.
    “And you’re still the person who wants to see the
best in everyone. Except maybe me.”
    Cassie couldn’t have kept her gaze from straying to
his face if she’d wanted to. He looked completely sincere… Until he
chuckled.
    “And I’m still the guy that’s wanted you for
years.”
    Her heart clutched as his words registered, but she
shook off the sensation.
    “Whatever,” she muttered. He wasn’t serious. He was
never serious. That was another thing that didn’t change.
    He frowned at her and took a step closer. “What do
you mean, ‘whatever’?”
    It was hard to breathe when he was this close. Even
though she knew he didn’t mean what he’d just said, she wanted to
pretend he did. Instead, she straightened and busied herself with
resealing the foil over the fudge and trying to put words to what
she was feeling.
    “I mean, you’ve made your point about Tyler,” she
finally managed. “And you’re right. I admit it. But you don’t need
to joke around about the rest of it.” She glanced up at him.
    His eyes narrowed, and his lips pressed briefly
together. “Maybe I was wrong about you wanting to see the best in
people. You certainly don’t seem inclined to even attempt to see it
in me.”
    If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was hurt.
But, this was Sam. He’d always been impervious to her verbal
jabs.
    He stared at her, intensity glowing in his eyes. She
swallowed thickly, feeling as though she was standing entirely too
close to him. Before she could take a step back, he lowered his
head and brushed his lips across hers. It was the barest
touch—hardly a kiss at all—but her breath stalled in her throat all
the same.
    Sam slid a hand around the back of her neck and
urged her closer, his mouth opening against hers as he deepened the
kiss. Her lips parted, welcoming him inside. He tasted of coffee
and dark chocolate. Her head spun as his lips caressed hers, the
sensation