Lisa Kleypas - Rainshadow Road

Sam went to her table and looked down at a sketch she had made. “Is glass feminine or masculine?”

Lucy gave a surprised laugh, having never been asked such a question before. She considered it carefully. You had to let glass do what it would, partner it rather than control it, handle it with gentleness and strength. “Feminine,” she said. “What about wine? Is it feminine or masculine?”

“The French word for wine—vin—is masculine. But to me, it depends on the wine. Of course”—Sam flashed a grin at her—“there are objections to using sexist language in the wine world. Like describing a Chardonnay as feminine if it’s light and delicate, or saying a big Cabernet is masculine. But sometimes there’s no other way to describe it.” He resumed his study of the sketch. “Do you ever have problems letting one of your pieces go?”

“I have problems letting everything go,” Lucy said with a self-deprecating laugh. “But I’m getting better at it.”

Eventually they left the studio and headed to the condo, walking along the streets of Friday Harbor. Old-fashioned ice-cream parlors and coffee shops were tucked between glossy art galleries and trendy restaurants. The occasional blast from an approaching ferry did nothing to disrupt the humid, lazy atmosphere. Rich smells of sunblock and fried seafood overlaid the mixture of seawater and marine diesel.

The condo was part of a multiuse development on West Street, with a terraced pedestrian walk down to Front Street. A rooftop deck and huge windows contributed to the sleek and modern design. Lucy didn’t even try to conceal her awe as they entered the residence. It was furnished with a few contemporary pieces, the rooms trimmed with natural wood and sky-and-earth colors.

“What do you think?” Sam asked, watching as Lucy tested the view from every window in the main room.

“I love it,” she said wistfully. “But there’s no way I can afford it.”

“How do you know? We haven’t talked numbers yet.”

“Because this is nicer than any apartment I’ve ever lived in, and I couldn’t even afford those places.”

“Mark’s pretty eager to get someone in here. And this place wouldn’t work for just anyone.”

“Who wouldn’t love it?”

“People who don’t like stairs. People who want a lot more privacy than all these windows would allow.”

“I think it’s perfect.”

“Then we’ll figure something out.”

“What does that mean?” Lucy asked, instantly wary.

“It means I’ll make sure the rent is a number you can live with.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to be obligated to you.”

“You wouldn’t be.”

“Of course I would, if I let you start doing favors for me. Especially financial favors.”

Sam’s brows lowered. “You think I would try to take advantage of you?” He approached her, and Lucy backed away reflexively until she felt the edge of the granite countertop against her back. “You expect me to show up someday twirling a mustache and wearing a black top hat, demanding sex instead of rent money?”

“Of course I don’t expect that.” Lucy fidgeted as he put his hands on either side of her, his palms braced on the counter. “It’s just … this isn’t a situation I feel comfortable with.”

Sam leaned over her without quite touching her. He was close enough that she found herself staring at his smooth tanned throat.

“Lucy,” he said, “you’re acting like I’m trying to push you into something. I’m not. If it turns out you’re interested in something more than friendship, I’ll be as happy as a damn bird with a French fry. But in the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t put me in the same category as assholes like Kevin Pearson.”

Lucy blinked in astonishment. Each breath started knocking into the next, like a line of dominoes. “H-how did you know his name?”

“He came to the vineyard yesterday and said he had a favor to ask me. It was about you.”

“He … about … you know Kevin?”

“Of course I know him. I did his science homework all through seventh grade to keep him from beating the crap out of me in the school parking lot.”

“I … what did he tell you? What did he want?”

“He said he’s marrying your sister. He also said your parents aren’t going to cough up any money for the wedding until Alice works things out with you.”

“I hadn’t heard about that last part. Alice must be freaking out. My parents have been giving her money for years.”

Pushing away from her, Sam went to a tall stool and sat negligently. “Apparently Kevin and Alice think the solution is to set you up with someone. They want some guy to romance you until you’re so full of endorphins, you won’t have a problem with them getting married anymore.”

“And you’re supposed to be that guy?” she asked incredulously. “Mr. Endorphins?”

“Speaking.”

A suffocating blanket of outrage settled over her. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Sam responded with a lazy shrug. “Do what you want to do.”

“Even if I wanted to, there’s no way I would go out with you now. They would laugh at me behind my back and talk about how gullible I was.”

“But you’d be laughing at them,” Sam pointed out.

“I don’t care. I’d rather avoid the whole thing.”

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll tell them you wouldn’t go for it, that I’m not your type. But don’t be surprised if they try to set you up with someone else.”

Lucy couldn’t hold back a disbelieving laugh. “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever … Why can’t they just leave me alone?”

“Apparently,” Sam said, “your parents will only approve of Alice’s wedding—and start giving her money again—when one condition has been met.”

“What condition is that?”

“Your happiness.”

“My God,” Lucy exclaimed in exasperation, “my family is so bizarre.”

“Believe me, they have nothing on the Nolans.”

She barely heard him. “Now they care about my happiness?” she demanded. “A thousand times in the past they could have taken my side but didn’t, and now all of a sudden, they want me to be happy? Screw them! And screw you too.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Lucy said, glaring at him. “You’re not the problem, you’re the solution. You’re my one-stop shop for endorphins. Well, I’m ready. Give it to me.”

Sam blinked. “Give what to you?”

“Endorphins. If everyone wants me to be happy, I’m all for it. So give me a shot of your best, grade-A, mood-enhancing endorphins.”

He gave her a dubious glance. “Maybe we should have lunch first.”

“No,” Lucy said, fuming, “let’s get it over with. Where’s the bedroom?”

Sam looked torn between amusement and concern. “If it’s revenge sex you’re after, I’d be perfectly happy to help out. But first would you mind telling me exactly who you’re mad at?”

“Everyone. Including myself.”

“Well, sleeping with me is not going to solve anyone’s problems.” Sam paused. “Except maybe mine. But that’s beside the point.” Approaching her, he took her by the shoulders and gave her a little coaxing shake. “Deep breath. Come on. Let it out.”

Lucy obeyed. She took another breath, and another, until the red haze faded from before her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Let’s go to lunch,” Sam said. “We’ll open a bottle of wine and talk. If you still want endorphins after that, I’ll see what I can do about it.”

They left the condo, crossed Front Street, and went to Downrigger’s, a popular seafood restaurant. On a warm summer day, there was no better place in Friday Harbor to have lunch than the outside deck facing Shaw Island. Sam ordered a bottle of white wine and an appetizer of Alaskan sea scallops wrapped in bacon, charbroiled, and served on corn relish. The melting sweetness of the scallops was perfectly balanced by the salty bacon and the smoky-sweet corn.

Sipping from a glass of chilled Chardonnay, soothed by Sam’s easy charm, Lucy felt herself begin to relax. She told Sam about Alice’s childhood meningitis and its aftereffects, about how off balance the family dynamic had been afterward.

“I was always jealous of Alice,” Lucy said. “But eventually I realized there was no reason for me to feel that way. Because she grew up expecting everything to be given to her, and that’s a terrible way to go through life. She never finishes anything she starts. I think my mom is beginning to regret having spoiled her so much, but it’s too late. Alice’s never going to change.”

“It’s never too late to change.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d met Alice. It goes down to the bone. I honestly can’t figure out what Kevin sees in her.”

Sam’s eyes were obscured by a pair of aviator sunglasses. “What did you see in Kevin?”

Lucy chewed slowly on her lower lip. “He was really thoughtful in the beginning,” she eventually said. “Affectionate. Dependable.”

“What about the sex?”

Lucy flushed and darted a glance at their surroundings to see if anyone had overheard. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Sam shrugged slightly. “Sex is the canary in the coal mine.” At Lucy’s blank look, he continued. “Miners used to bring a canary in a cage underground. If there was a carbon dioxide leak in the mine, the canary would drop dead first, and they would know to get out of there. So … how was it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lucy said primly.

His smile was edged with friendly mockery. “Never mind. I already know the answer.”

Her eyes turned huge. “Kevin told you about our sex life?”

Sam squinted his eyes with the effort to remember. “Something about Crisco, jumper cables, a snorkel mask—”