Dirty Sexy Saint (Dirty Sexy 1)

By the time the delivery guys had unloaded everything, the entire kitchen was filled with bags and boxes, and Samantha couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed on a multitude of levels. “It’s too much.” She pressed her hands to her warm cheeks when she thought about how much Clay had spent on her. A surge of guilt wasn’t far behind. “All this had to have cost him a small fortune.”

“Meh,” Katrina said with a shrug, as if money wasn’t an issue. “Clay didn’t hesitate when I told him how much everything was.”

He truly hadn’t spared any expense on her aspirations, and even without words, he was letting her know that he believed in her, when her parents never had and never would. He had no idea how much his generosity meant to her, or how much his confidence in her abilities boosted her own determination to make her dreams a reality. She didn’t want to let herself down, but more importantly, she didn’t want to let him down.

An emotional lump formed in Samantha’s throat, and tears pricked the backs of her eyes. All her life, she’d received ridiculously expensive presents—opulent jewelry, extravagant cars and trips, luxurious designer clothes and accessories—but she’d never been given a gift that was so personal and heartfelt. So thoughtful and meaningful. Even with her parents knowing how much she loved to bake and how badly she wanted to pursue being a pastry chef, not once had they ever encouraged her, let alone given her something to acknowledge her passion.

In that moment, Samantha felt that first flutter of sensation in her heart that told her she was on her way to falling in love with Clay Kincaid. She ought to provide herself with a stern lecture about this thing with Clay being just an affair, a warning about guarding her heart or else she’d get hurt. But as she stared at the abundance of items beckoning to her in the fully stocked kitchen in Clay’s apartment, she couldn’t find the words, or the will to ignore the feelings growing inside her. And she no longer wanted to, she realized.

She glanced at Katrina, who’d been watching her reaction the entire time. “I need to go thank him.”

Before she could head downstairs to the bar, Katrina placed a hand on her arm. “Tell you what. How about you start going through the bags and boxes to unpack and see everything you have, and I’ll go and get Clay.”

Like a little kid at Christmas, Samantha couldn’t deny that she was dying to check out the goods. “Okay,” she said, and the first thing she did was unpack the beautiful industrial-grade stand mixer in her favorite color—bright pink.

* * *

Katrina found Clay in the storeroom, where he was busy going through his liquor inventory. With an anxious sensation in his stomach, he watched her sashay toward him, her mischievous green eyes sparkling like emeralds.

Clay knew why Katrina was here. She’d texted him almost a half an hour ago to let him know that she’d arrived with the delivery truck and unloading was about to commence. Considering it had been his idea to supply Samantha with everything she needed to bake her desserts, he knew Katrina had expected him to be there when everything arrived.

He’d seriously thought about it, but he’d felt a little off this morning after last night’s chat with Levi. Okay, that was an understatement. He’d been moody and angry and not at all happy that his brother had poked and prodded and brought up emotions he worked hard to keep buried. Levi had pissed him off, and his nasty mood was the last thing he wanted to subject Samantha to—or have to explain.

So when he’d woken up this morning still feeling on edge, he’d decided to head to the gym for a hard workout, which had helped burn off some steam. He’d showered and changed at the fitness center, and by the time he’d returned to the bar, his annoyance toward his brother had abated, but then he’d realized that he was suddenly unsure of his impulsive decision to buy what amounted to a pastry kitchen for Samantha. He was worried about her reaction to his gifts. What if she thought it was stupid? What if she didn’t appreciate him butting into her business? What if she took the gesture for more than what it was, especially after yesterday afternoon?

And when the fuck had he become so concerned about making a woman happy?

Katrina crossed her arms over her chest and pinned him with a discerning look. “I texted you half an hour ago. I expected you to come upstairs and see what your thousands of dollars bought

for Samantha.”

He shrugged casually and set his clipboard on a shelf. “I got distracted with inventory.”

She had the grace not to call him out on his lie. Instead, she smiled and said, “I have to say, you certainly know the way to this woman’s heart.”

“She liked everything?” he asked, trying like hell not to sound like an infatuated teenager who wanted to impress the girl he was crushing on. Jesus, he was so pathetic.

Katrina rolled her eyes and shifted on her ridiculously high heels. “You’re kidding me, right? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman so thrilled to get kitchen appliances as a gift from a man. Most of us girls prefer diamonds or a pair of Louboutins, but I’m coming to realize that Samantha is unique.”

Relieved by Katrina’s reassurance, he laughed, and the sound finally released the tension he’d been carrying since his brother’s visit. Yes, she was unique, considering the comfortable, wealthy, want-for-nothing life she’d walked away from, and that was one of the things he found so attractive about her. She was so unassuming, so gracious. So unique.

“I had fun surprising Samantha, but I need to get back to Inked before your brother starts blowing up my phone with texts demanding to know where I am,” Katrina said with a put-out sigh. “I didn’t tell him I was running errands for you.”

“You didn’t?” he asked, surprised to hear that. “Why not?”

Her chin jutted out stubbornly. “Because it’s none of his fucking business, and I’m done being at his beck and call.”

Katrina’s defiant attitude had Clay biting back a smile. As the manager of Inked, Katrina had been putting up with Mason’s bullshit for a few years now, but it appeared she was finally fed up with his brother taking advantage of her and their friendship. He had a feeling that Mason had no clue that there was a brewing storm heading his way.

Not wanting to get into the middle of that skirmish, he changed the subject. “Thanks for everything,” he said, sincerely grateful for her assistance since he didn’t know jack about baking. “I couldn’t have pulled this off without your help.”

“It was my pleasure. I’m going to head out, but Samantha is waiting for you upstairs, so go and enjoy her excitement.” Katrina walked toward the storeroom door but turned around before exiting and met his gaze. “And just for the record, I really like her. A lot.”

“I do, too,” he replied automatically. Way too much.

Once Katrina was gone, Clay made his way up to the apartment and quietly slipped inside. Samantha was in the kitchen, and there was so much stuff on the counters that it boggled his mind. Currently, she was testing out a mixer in a bright pink color that suited her personality. She turned it on, and as an electronic whirring sound filled the space, she bounced on the balls of her bare feet enthusiastically and let out a giddy laugh that made him grin.

He took a moment to just watch her as she oohed and aahed over different bakeware and appliances that seemed to impress her. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she was wearing a white tank top and a pair of faded jean shorts that molded to that perfect ass he’d had the enjoyment of caressing yesterday afternoon while taking her from behind. The hot memory made his cock twitch—no shock there—and he redirected his dirty thoughts before they escalated even further. As much as he wanted Samantha, this moment was about her and not his unruly dick.