Summer at Lake Haven - RaeAnne Thayne Page 0,37

receive from their husbands.

She wanted that. Not right now, maybe, but someday.

If she gave in to her attraction, something told her Ian Summerhill would leave her far more devastated than Craig ever had.

With a sigh, she returned Betsey to her puppies, then headed to her own bedroom, the one she had slept in since birth, feeling more alone than ever.

CHAPTER SEVEN

APPARENTLY SHE WAS a genius all these years and had no idea.

Genius might be too strong of a word. She couldn’t use it toward herself without feeling uncomfortable. Then again, maybe she had spent too much time listening to certain negative voices and struggled to give herself enough credit.

There was no maybe about it, she acknowledged. Samantha didn’t trust her own instincts, always questioning and second-guessing every decision, from the kind of toothpaste to buy to the best way to pick out ripe watermelons at the grocery store.

In the months since her mother died, she had tried to break herself of the habit but it was proving harder than she expected. She wanted to think she was getting better at figuring things out on her own.

In this case, she had made an impulsive decision and it had paid off better than she could have dreamed. The plan to have Ian’s children watch the dogs seemed to be working like a charm. This week had been a dream. Since the previous Monday when Amelia and Thomas had started checking on them and playing with them a little during the day, Betsey and the puppies seemed so tired by the time Samantha returned home from work that they only needed a little love and cuddles and then they were asleep for the night.

She was utterly thrilled with the results. Not having to entertain a dog and three pups left her with more time to work on dress designs and at her sewing machine.

She was so thrilled, in fact, that on Friday she made a stop at her favorite bakery in town after a long day at the shop to pick up some of their huge fresh chocolate chip cookies for the children to thank them.

Bag in hand, she rang the bell at the house next door. Perhaps her luck would hold and Ian wouldn’t be there. She could hand the cookies to Mrs. Gilbert or the children and be on her merry way without having to face that particular temptation.

Alas, when the door swung open a moment later, Ian Summerhill stood on the other side, his collar askew and his hair messed in that gorgeous way, as if he had just raked a hand through it. She fought the urge to straighten the collar and smooth down his hair.

She thought she saw something hot leap into his expression for an instant before he blinked it away. “Oh. Hi.”

Nerves jittered through her. She hadn’t seen him since the night they had kissed beside the lake earlier that week. That didn’t mean she hadn’t done her share of obsessing about the heat of his mouth on hers, the delicious taste of him, the hard muscles beneath her hands.

She drew in a shaky breath and held up the bag full of cookies. “Hi. I’m sorry to bother you. Don’t mind me, I’m only the neighbor who shows up with sugary treats for your children.”

“Is that right?”

She found some small satisfaction that he looked as uncomfortable to see her as she felt to face him again.

“There’s this fabulous bakery in town that makes gigantic cookies as big as your hand. I hope you don’t mind but I picked up a couple each for your amazing children, along with their paycheck.”

“They are quite amazing. I must say, it’s nice to see someone else recognize it.”

She smiled. “I included a few for you and Mrs. Gilbert, with my grateful thanks.”

“I’m afraid she and the children are not here right now. She took them to the cinema in Shelter Springs so I could catch up on some work and make some uninterrupted phone calls.”

“And then your neighbor stopped by to interrupt you with sugary treats. Sorry.”

“No bother. I finished earlier than I expected and was only reading on the back deck.”

Her friends at her book group might have said there was no such thing as only reading but she didn’t want to correct him. “Well, I’m sorry to interrupt that.”

“You didn’t. Really. Come in, won’t you?”

She hesitated, remembering what had happened the previous time they had been alone together. She had lost sleep she could ill afford, haunted by

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