“Don’t worry about being delicate.” Sam shoved an entire cannoli into his mouth to prove his point. His cheeks were puffed out, and it clearly took a concerted effort to chew, but Stella could tell he was smiling. So, she pushed aside her worries and followed suit.
The cannoli barely fit in her mouth, and she had to hold a hand over her lips to keep crumbs from spilling out, but holy cow, it was delicious. The filling inside was sweet, but not overly so because there was a natural balance to the sweetness in how complex and full-bodied the cream was. Then, the crispy shell was buttery with a kick of cinnamon. It was the perfect dessert.
“Tell me that isn’t the best thing you’ve ever eaten.” Sam watched her expectantly, eyes bright with excitement. Stella could finally understand why everyone had been so adamant about her needing to try one of these cannolis.
“It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” she admitted easily. “Followed closely by the lasagna. How have I never heard of Romano’s before? Or Willow Beach for that matter?”
He arched his brows. “Does that mean your car breaking down maybe isn’t the worst thing that could have happened to your vacation?”
Stella was taken aback by his question. Mostly because she realized for the first time in three days that she wasn’t thinking about leaving.
Every activity she had participated in had felt like a countdown. Going to dinner at the Duke Saloon and dancing with Sam was one evening closer to leaving for Boston. Then, she painted at the theater, and that was another day gone. Even tonight was supposed to be a way to burn some time before heading out for the big city. Yet, the entire time she’d been with Sam, she hadn’t thought about Boston once. She hadn’t been counting the hours in her head, wondering when she’d be leaving.
She’d been…having fun.
In fact, the thought of driving away from Willow Beach now left her with a hollow feeling. What could Boston possibly have to offer that would be better than the community this town had built? How likely was it she’d arrive in Boston and meet people who were willing to embrace her as warmly as the people in this town had? What museums or restaurants or tourist sites could be more important than genuine human connection?
“I can safely say my car breaking down is not the worst thing that could have happened to me.”
Stella and Sam locked eyes over the table, and the unspoken words between were obvious and ever-present, but Stella was still too nervous to say them.
Regardless of how she felt tonight, she would have to leave Willow Beach. Boston or not, this week was just a vacation, and nothing could change that. There was no reason to make leaving hurt more than it already would.
Sam seemed to reach a similar conclusion. His brow wrinkled for a second before he smoothed his expression into a smile. “Are you too full to move, or are you ready for an adventure?”
“An adventure? I thought you didn’t want anyone to see us out on a date?”
“Who said anything about anyone else being there?” He wagged his eyebrows playfully. “Are you intrigued yet?”
“Immensely,” Stella admitted.
Sam walked around the table and extended a hand. Stella placed hers gently in his and let him pull her to her feet. “Then come along, my lady. Your chariot awaits.”
She laughed. “Now I’m getting the full royal treatment. Lead the way, kind sir.”
Sam tucked her forearm around his arm and escorted her back into the warm night.
14
When Stella realized Sam was driving back towards the Willow Beach Inn, her face fell. She wasn’t ready for the date to be over. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. Though, she had to remind herself that she was on vacation and Sam wasn’t. He probably had to get up early for work tomorrow morning, so she shouldn’t keep him out late.
Still, it was hard to care about any of that. Being with Sam had been easy. Fun.
Their conversation drifted effortlessly from one topic to another, and despite having met him just a few days ago, she felt like she knew him. He was warm and friendly. He cared about the people in his life deeply and was loyal to a fault. He didn’t walk into anything with half of his heart. He gave his whole self to everything he did and every person he met. All in all, Stella had never met anyone like him.
Occasionally, his expression shifted, or he averted his eyes. Stella didn’t know what it meant exactly, but she could read him well enough by now to know it was something. Something she’d probably be privy to eventually, once she earned his trust.
And she wanted so badly to earn his trust.
It seemed silly since she’d be back home soon, the citizens of this wonderful little beach town just a memory, but she wanted to be the person who learned his secrets. He’d trusted her enough to go on a date when not many women had gotten this far, so Stella had hoped. Or rather, she used to.
Now, she was fairly certain she was being delivered back to the inn to spend the rest of the night alone in her room.
When the top of the inn came into view over the trees, Stella sighed. “If I’d known you were going to take me home, I never would have agreed to this adventure.”
Sam glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. “Is that so? You were having a good time, then?”
She didn’t want to manipulate him into extending the date, but what other choice did she have? Stella turned to Sam, slipping her seat belt under her arm to keep it from cutting against her neck. “As a matter of fact, yes, I was. I had a lovely evening.”
“Is that so?” he asked
