Colonial Offer (The Sampson Series Book 1) Read online

  Colonial Offer

  The Sampson Series

  Book One

  Lena Lane

  Copyright © 2016 Lena Lane

  EPUB Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.

  COLONIAL OFFER

  Cover Design by Gin’s Book Designs (ginsbookdesigns.com)

  Stock Photo Attribution: Depositphotos.com / dimdimich (Dmitry Demyanenko)

  Sarah was content—or so she’d thought. Numbly going through each day believing she didn’t need anything more, she hadn’t been looking for love. Not until she met a real estate agent that sent her belly spinning with unexpected thrills. What will she do with the man who sent her life into a roller-coaster ride she couldn’t control?

  Scott was busy. The family business was running him ragged and he had barely enough time to keep his sanity. But some distractions cannot be ignored, and Sarah was too tasty a morsel to overlook—each nibble just made him want more. Could he convince her that he could give her what she never thought she’d needed?

  In their real estate world where bids are often rejected, will she accept his final offer?

  Dedication

  To my family, by blood and by choice. Thank you for being proper adults while I spent my time daydreaming like a teenager. Without you, I’d never have food or clean clothes. Thank you, a million times over, for allowing me to indulge in my fantasy. I promise to return the favor someday.

  To Jeannette Winters. Thank you for nagging—uh, I mean encouraging—me to do this. You are the best mentor anyone could ever ask for, and without you, I probably would’ve never gotten to The End.

  To EL King. Thank you—so much—for the hours you spent on me and my work. Your generosity will not be forgotten.

  And last, but certainly not least, to You, the reader, because without you, this story would have no value.

  I love you all.

  Lena

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  About the Book

  Dedication

  1. Flying Umbrella

  2. Unexpected Meet

  3. Another Storm

  4. Masterful Laundry

  5. Delicious Afterglow

  6. Date Call

  7. Saturday’s Showing

  8. Stay Awhile

  9. Silky Smooth

  10. Poolside Chair

  11. Blissful Rest

  12. Client’s House?

  13. Adventurous Date

  14. Long Term

  15. Not Colonials

  16. Unexpected Competition

  17. Airplane Rides

  18. Getting Ready

  19. Sushi Again

  20. Laser Tag

  21. Great Times

  22. Family Portrait

  23. The Men

  24. Her Family

  25. Friday Fish

  26. Beach Trip

  27. Breakfast Picnic

  28. Commissions Check

  29. Exotic Siren

  30. He Knows

  31. Overnight Bag?

  32. Sharp Contemporary

  33. Surprise Review

  34. Porch Dinner

  35. Stargazing Dreams

  36. Breakfast Delight

  37. The Wake-up

  38. The Plan

  39. Silenced Dragon

  Connect with Lena

  About Cabin Rescue

  CHAPTER ONE

  Flying Umbrella

  The rain had been coming down for hours. Sarah Wilson had half hoped her buyer would cancel but no such luck. She pulled up the driveway of the large colonial on Oak Hill, past the for-sale sign, and parked as close to the house as possible, next to an SUV already in the driveway. She assumed it belonged to the developer’s agent’s since the property was still vacant, having just been built. Grabbing her large umbrella off the passenger seat, she hoped it would be enough to keep her somewhat dry but knew she was probably wrong.

  As soon as she pushed the car door open, the rain struck her, cold and icy. So much for summer weather. She stuck the umbrella out and opened it, only for it to be turned inside out by a gale of wind. “Son of a—” She was interrupted as another gust swept the thing right out of her hand. She groaned in dismay as she watched it fly away over the lawn. Flipping over and over again, it finally hit a fence a good hundred feet away. “Uh…”

  Shoulders sagging in defeat, she went after it, the rain pelting her, her high-heeled sandals sinking into the soft ground. By the time she’d retrieved the umbrella, she was soaked through. Sloshing her way to the front door, she held the stupid thing away from her drenched body, barely noticing that the door had opened as soon as she took her first step. She didn’t bother to look up; she just dropped the broken umbrella by the door, the upside down canopy looking like a deranged skirt.

  “Forget it, come inside,” the agent urged while holding the door wide.

  Sarah needed no additional encouragement. Registering nothing more about the agent than that he was a male in a dark suit, she stepped in and proceeded to slip on the tile floor. Her arms flew out, hitting not only the wall but the agent who was nice enough to catch her before she landed on the floor. Strong arms wrapped around her torso, palms cupping her breasts as she fell back against his strong chest. “Damn it!” Embarrassed and stumbling, she struggled to regain her footing and he helped by gently pushing her forward.

  “Are you all right?” His voice was deep, husky, and right at her ear.

  Goose-bumps erupted all over her body. She blamed the wet clothes. She heard the agent step away to close the door and she moved further into the warm house. Wiping the raindrops from her face, Sarah responded, “I will not be playing the lotto tonight.” Making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt, she turned to face him.

  Standing before her was a golden god. Blond hair cut short, with straight eyebrows over sky-blue eyes, and full lips made for kissing and nibbling and… Sarah blinked repeatedly. Certainly, she was hallucinating. There could be no man this beautiful walking around her small New England town. They just didn’t exist, certainly not here, and most definitely not with broad shoulders and lean hips that filled a suit to perfection.

  “Scott Sampson,” he said while holding his hand out and smiling. “You must be Sarah.”

  “Yes,” She replied, although the word came out more like a sigh. She shook his hand and nearly melted from the warmth of his skin.

  “If you’d like to dry off a bit, there’s a towel in the half bath around the corner.” He pointed to the wide hallway. Nodding toward the door, he said, “I’ll keep an eye out for your clients.”

  In a daze, she blinked rapidly at him again before fully absorbing his words. Sarah leaned against the front door and removed her sandals. “Safety first.” She lifted the shoes in explanation before putting them on the floor beside a table in the foyer, where there was little danger of anyone tripping on them. Barefoot, she walked away while struggling out of her wet blazer.

  The bathroom was easy enough to find. Seeing the towels hanging from the rail on the wall,
Sarah felt very grateful that the owner had decided to stage the property. She hung the blazer behind the door and caught her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, my God…” The three words came out in a rush. She gripped the sides of the sink for support. Luckily, she hadn’t bothered with makeup today; the thin line tattooed on her upper eyelids was enough to give her a simple but professional look. She was not, however, looking her best. Her long, dark hair was plastered flat against her head and, even more worrisome, her plain white top was now stuck to her skin, revealing the lacy bra underneath. She could easily win a wet T-shirt contest looking like this. “Stupid umbrella,” she hissed.

  As Sarah used the towel on her hair, her blazer began to vibrate behind her. She put the towel down and reached into the jacket’s pocket for her phone. After looking at the caller ID, she forced a smile to her face and answered the call. After all, a client expects his realtor to always be pleasant and sunny, even during the worst of storms. “Hey, Bobby, how are you?” She listened politely to his explanation that something was wrong with his truck and that he couldn’t make it to see the house today. Closing her eyes and rubbing her temple with her free hand, she assured him she understood, and that these things happened, the smile still plastered on her face, her voice still sweet as sugar. She walked out of the bathroom to ask Scott if he’d be available to show the house over the weekend instead. A look of pure hunger crossed his features as he took in her wet blouse. His gaze quickly lifted to her eyes but, she could still read the lust on his face. Oh, my God, I’ve just exposed myself to another agent.

  “Of course,” he said, pulling out his phone to look at his calendar. They coordinated a good time to reschedule before he put his phone away.

  “Absolutely, Bobby, I’ll see you then.” Sarah ended the call and smiled at Scott. “I’m so very sorry about everything,” she said. Embarrassed by her revealing attire, she brought her hand up to rub her chin, hiding at least one breast behind her arm.

  But the movement backfired on her, bringing his attention back to her breasts. “Don’t worry about it, it happens.” He grinned and small laugh lines appeared at the corners of his eyes.

  “I’ll just grab my blazer and we can head out.” She spun in the direction of the bathroom, but his next words made her stop and turn back to look at him.

  “Are you sure?” With a wave of his hand, he motioned to the rest of the house. “We could wait out the storm and I could give you the grand tour.” His easy smile was welcoming.

  Sarah would have loved to spend more time with him but she was cold, wet, and very uncomfortable. “Thank you but I’m going to pass on that for today.” She hoped her grateful tone relayed how thankful she was for his understanding. “But I’ll take a raincheck for next time.”

  Nodding, he replied, “Of course.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Unexpected Meet

  The meeting room was filled with realtors from all different offices. That was the norm when a mandatory class was free. Free credits, free food, and a chance to network; the perfect combination to bring out the droves. Sarah was grabbing some fruit from the mini buffet and trying not to panic from being surrounded by so many bodies when a single form caught her attention. He had grabbed a plate and slid in next to her in the buffet line.

  “Good morning, Sarah.” Scott Sampson’s deep voice rumbled in greeting.

  “Good morning to you,” Sarah replied, her own voice a little breathless.

  She was trying to play it cool but was finding it difficult with this sexy man walking beside her. Once again, he was wearing a dark suit that fit his large body to perfection, showcasing his broad shoulders, his lean waist and hips. Sarah was also wearing a suit, though she doubted she looked as edible as he did.

  “This is a pleasant surprise,” he said, his mouth curving up on one side. Ignoring the fruit, he leaned forward to spoon some eggs and sausage onto his plate. Their shoulders met, and the contact sent a shot of heat through her.

  Quickly, she stepped back to give him more room. She tried to ignore the clean scent of his cologne. If she didn’t, she’d lean in and sniff him. That wouldn’t be weird, at all. Mentally, she rolled her eyes at herself. “Yes,” she replied simply. This man had her at a loss for words, her skill for small talk had vanished. She stepped forward in the buffet line.

  “Do you have a seat already picked out?” He asked her, keeping pace.

  “Yes,” she nodded. Torn between staring at his perfect features and avoiding eye contact altogether, she glanced up quickly before motioning toward the meeting room. “I’m sitting at table seven.” Ask him to join you. Ask him. Ask him! Instead, she gulped.

  “Mind if I sit with you?”

  Forget nervous butterflies. Somehow they had morphed into the size of a dragon, which was doing a little dance in her belly. Wow… “That would be great.” She forced herself to sound calm. “I’d love the company.” She met his gaze and blinked rapidly, three quick flutters.

  Scott gave her a beaming smile that crinkled at the corners of his eyes. She wondered how old he was and guessed mid-thirties, giving her the impression that the lines around his eyes must come a lot of laughter. Got to love a man with a sense of humor, she thought, her smile mirroring his.

  Together, they grabbed their silverware and napkins and made their way to the table. Sarah was acutely aware of him walking beside her and felt a little thrill. It was exhilarating to think that this man wanted to spend time with her. Unbidden, thoughts of her years at school came back to haunt her. She remembered the girl who’d spent most of her time with her nose in a book because she was too plain to get a date. Plain brown hair, plain brown eyes, and plenty of extra around the middle. Those days had certainly passed, but the memory of them remained. A perfect ten does not want to hang out with a boring plain Jane. Not when there were plenty of other stunning blondes and exquisite redheads to pick from. She did a mental shake to clear those useless thoughts and focused on the present.

  Once they reached the table, Scott put his plate down and pulled her chair out before she had a chance. Flustered, she sat down and said, “Thank you.” He even helped push the chair in. “I didn’t think men still did that.”

  When he was seated, he leaned toward her and said, “Manners never go out of style.” Giving her a sexy grin, he pulled his chair closer.

  “That is very true,” she told him as she smiled back. “There’s nothing sexier than a man with a sense of humor and good manners.” She’d said the words without thinking and a blush crept over her cheeks when he grinned even more. Oh well, it was out. She forced herself to shrug casually.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he smirked.

  Sarah laughed lightly. “You should.” She looked down at her plate and proceeded to eat. It had been a long time since she’d attempted to flirt with someone and Scott wasn’t just anyone. Not only was he a fellow agent, he was gorgeous. She was nervous, excited, and had absolutely no idea how to talk to him. Might as well take a trip back in time and go back to her awkward high school years. Lucky for her, she was saved from further conversation attempts by the morning’s presenter. The class was about to begin.

  Unexpectedly, Scott leaned in close and whispered, “I don’t know about you but, I hope this isn’t a boring two-hour session. I don’t work with foreclosures, at all.” He looked at her, his face mere inches from hers. He was so close, she could see how crystal his blue eyes were, a pure blue without a hint of any other color. Fascinating. “Do you?”

  She blinked at him, trying to focus on his words but distracted by his proximity. “Foreclosures.” She remembered that was the topic of this morning’s lecture. “No, I don’t work with foreclosures, either,” she said softly.

  “But it’s a free class,” they murmured in unison. They chuckled softly, their heads coming together like conspirators. Scott relaxed in his chair, pretending to pay attention to the speaker, though in reality, he was just doodling on the handout they’d been given earlier.


  Gathering her courage, she turned to him and whispered, “I haven’t seen you around. Have you been a realtor long?”

  He placed his forearms on the table and met her eyes. “I focus primarily on my brother’s properties. Sammy owns a construction company, and he keeps me busy. Unless you have a buyer looking for a brand new build, we wouldn’t meet up.”

  “Oh,” Sarah nodded, “that would explain it. Bobby is my first client to insist on a brand new house.” She smiled. “He says he doesn’t want to inherit someone else’s problems but I think he’s really afraid of ghosts.” She giggled lightly. “I’ve taken them to three different places and each time, he asked me if anyone had ever died there.” She shrugged. “Hey, they can afford brand new construction, so why not? Heck, if I had the money for one, I’d do it, too.”

  He nodded. “Do you believe in ghosts, Sarah?” He was very close again. She hadn’t realized he’d inched so near to her but somehow, he was now in her personal space. She noted that she didn’t mind.

  She chuckled, careful to keep her laughter and her words low enough so as not to disturb those around them. “I have never experienced one myself, so I couldn’t say either way.”

  “That is a very politically correct answer, Sarah.” He gave her a sideways glance. “But I asked if you believed in their existence. Not if they existed.”

  “Well, Scott,” she teased him, putting her elbows on the table, “I believe in the possibility of their existence, but I cannot speak with certainty because I’ve never had a first-hand experience with one.” She laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them. “Is that a more acceptable response?” The side of her mouth rose with humor.

  “Would you believe me if I told you that I had?” He mimicked her pose, resting his chin on laced fingers.

  “Hmm…” She pondered. “Do I know you well enough to believe the stories you tell?” She challenged him. “I’m not sure.”