“If Benny could be persuaded, you’d be halfway to Boston by now.” Sam dropped his jacket on the floor and circled the bed, setting the pizza down in the center. “I brought dinner. I thought you might be hungry.”
Amelia shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. Isn’t there some way we could work this out?”
“I’m willing to entertain offers.” He opened a beer, helped himself to a slice of pizza and leaned back into the pillows, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“Get your dirty shoes off my bed!” she cried.
He grinned. “My bed. And if I’m not mistaken, also my quilt and my pillows.” He slid the pizza toward her with his foot. “Have a slice.”
“I’m not that hungry,” she murmured.
“Come on, Amelia. Let’s just call a truce for tonight and enjoy some dinner.” He grabbed a beer and opened it, then handed it to her. “Go on. Relax.”
“I don’t drink beer,” she said.
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