The Mechanics of Mistletoe - Liz Isaacson Page 0,91

down the steps.

“What are you doin’ here?” she asked, really laying on her Texas accent. “You said I wouldn’t see you until tomorrow.”

“Do you want to ask her?” Bear asked, looking at Lincoln.

“Ask me what?” Thunder rolled through the sky, and Sammy looked up as the noise lingered in the clouds. “Let’s go in.”

“Sammy, I want to go sleep at the ranch tonight. Bear said I could, and he’s got a bed all set up for me already.”

She looked from Lincoln to Bear. “You have school tomorrow, bud,” she said.

“It’s just a half-day,” Lincoln said. “I don’t need to go.”

Sammy didn’t know what to say.

“Bear needs some help with these new horses he got, and if I’m there, the work will go so much faster.” He turned on the puppy dog eyes, and Sammy felt her resistance slipping. “Please, Sammy? Ranger’s going to—”

“Lincoln,” Bear said quietly. Link looked up at him and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“Oh, right.” Lincoln closed his mouth and looked at Sammy.

“He says he can pack his own bag,” Bear said with a smile. “I’d love to take you guys to dinner, and then you can have an evening to yourself.” He reached for her hand, his fingertips barely brushing hers.

Sammy had so many questions, especially about what Ranger was going to do—and what she could possibly need an evening to herself for. Then she thought of a bubble bath, and a cup of hot tea while she read a book in bed. No homework. No checking to make sure Lincoln washed right in the tub. No dinner to make.

“Okay,” she said. “Go pack your bag, Link.” She took Bear’s hand. “You come tell me what Ranger’s going to do.”

Lincoln cheered while Bear just glared at Sammy. She smiled and said, “Please?”

Bear sighed heavily. “He’s making your birthday cake, if you must know.”

Sammy narrowed her eyes at him. “Why couldn’t Lincoln tell me that?”

“Because,” Bear said. “Now come on. Tell me where we’re going for dinner.”

Sammy did enjoy her evening alone. Her morning too, as she slept in and got ready for work at a much slower pace. Bear texted to say he’d bring Link to her parents’ house so they could go to dinner at Richardson’s, and Sammy left the shop early to get ready.

She knew when Bear pulled into the driveway, as his truck had one of those huge engines that growled when it was running. She stayed in the house though, as he liked to come to the door to get her.

“Relax,” she told herself. She needed more time to get used to Bear spending his money on her, and she felt woefully underdressed in the only black dress she owned.

He rang the doorbell, and Sammy smoothed down her dress one more time before she went to answer the door.

She looked up, as Bear stood so much taller than her. But he wasn’t there. Looking down, she found him on both knees, holding a black ring box toward her. It was already open to reveal a shiny diamond among blue silk.

Sammy gasped, pure surprise mingling with delight as she noticed he was wearing a fancy black suit that seemed to suck light into it. His shirt was crisp and white, with a blue and gray tie knotted around his throat.

“Samantha Benton,” he said. “I can’t wait to build a life together with you. I love you, and I love Lincoln, with my whole heart. Will you marry me?”

Sammy had worked really hard on her makeup, but her tears burned her eyes and threatened to ruin it all. “Yes,” she said, her voice cracking. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Bear got to his feet in one swift move, his laughter joining with hers as he engulfed her in a tight hug. He made her feel beautiful, and smart, and safe.

“I love you,” she said as he put the ring on the right finger.

“I love you too,” he said, finishing and looking up at her. They smiled at one another, and Sammy tipped up to hold his face in both of her hands. She took a few seconds to really search his face, and she found him to be one of the most genuine people she’d ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Then she kissed her fiancé.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Bear told Lincoln to go open the front door and hold it for him. He followed with the two long, foil trays of food in his hands, hoping he’d make it all the way to the kitchen