Any Sunday by Debbie Macomber

Author:Debbie Macomber [Macomber, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2021-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

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Even before Marjorie left the dealership at a quarter after nine, she knew she wasn’t heading home. Sam’s Brown’s Point address was tucked safely away in her purse, and she had every intention of talking to him before she did anything else. Maybe she could undo some of the damage.

She located the house without a problem, pulled into the wide driveway, and turned off her engine. Sam’s home was a magnificent sprawling ranch house made of used brick. Huge picture windows faced the street.

Her heart was pounding like a locomotive chugging uphill. Now she understood what courage it had taken for him to arrive unannounced at her apartment. She didn’t often do this sort of thing, and the need to swallow her pride made it all the more difficult.

While her conviction held, she climbed out of the car and marched up to his front door like a soldier making her way to the front of a firing squad. Her hand faltered as she rang the bell.

She heard Sam’s footsteps long before the door was opened.

“Marjorie.” He blinked, certain she was a figment of his imagination.

“I know I should have called, but…”

“No,” he said, and smiled that slow, sexy smile of his as he stepped aside. “Come in, please.”

Relieved by his warm welcome, she entered his home. The first thing that she noticed when he led her into the huge, tiled entryway was the large, unobstructed view of Commencement Bay from the floor-to-ceiling living room windows. The twinkling lights of barges and ferryboats lit up the inky black night and reflected off the water.

“Oh Sam,” she said, her voice low in wonder. “This is so beautiful…It’s marvelous.” Words failed her, and she simply stared into the night.

“I love it, too.” He didn’t know what had brought her here, and he didn’t care. She’d been on his mind all day. He regretted the abrupt way in which he’d ended their telephone conversation, and all because his fragile ego had been pricked. Most of the evening had been spent trying to come up with a way to see her again and preserve both his pride and hers.

“Sam,” she said, tearing her gaze from the water and turning to face him. Her features were strained with an expression of practiced poise. “I’ve come to apologize for this morning.”

“No,” he countered quickly, sensing her apprehension. “I should be the one to do that.” The appeal in her gaze cut a path straight to his heart, but he kept his own features tightly controlled.

“You?” she said, and laughed shortly. “I was the one who was rude.”

“Something was troubling you. I knew it the minute you spoke.” He longed to ease whatever was bothering her and kicked himself more than once for having been such a fool.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. If Sam found her so readable, it would be difficult to hide anything from him.

“Come in and relax,” he offered, leading her into the living room. The white leather couch

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