Remember Arizona: A Second Chance Romance (Country Love Collection)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  I sucked in a breath and froze like my life depended on it. And in some ways, it actually did.

  Seconds dragged on like time would stop before we ever made it out of the mine. Even though he held me unmoving, he still held me against him. And the only place I felt the rumble of the trolley car was where I was pressed against him, each vibration making the hardness against my ass swell thicker and the ache between my legs—legs I was physically unable to close or squeeze to help assuage the need—grow until I worried I’d stand to leave a pool of desire on the seat.

  I focused my gaze on the way my headlamp flickered light against the passing walls, it was charting the rapid and unsteady beat of my heart rather than the uneven tines of the rails beneath us.

  “Sam…” I breathed out his name, pleading for both less and more, torn between the want of the present and the pain of the past.

  A flash of bright light blinded me, and I recognized the light at the end of the tunnel—and the end of what the stark darkness in the mine had so cruelly brought to light.

  I still wanted Sam Deschenes in a way that was utterly debilitating.

  The trolley burst back into the bright Arizona afternoon, but even as it slowed to a stop, Sam didn’t let go of me.

  Shivering, I began to turn, hoping to find answers to unspoken questions in his eyes.

  “Just leave it alone, Carlos,” I heard Nico scold in the distance, and it reminded me where we were and what we were supposed to be.

  Ducking my head, I sprung off the seat so quickly I stumbled forward a little.

  “Tally…” Sam reached for my wrist before I got too far.

  My gaze snapped to his out of habit—out of pure wanton instinct. And the fuse was lit.

  “I will not leave it alone, Nico. This is ridiculous,” Carlos’ accusation rang out with the same cringeworthy crunch of the gravel underneath his feet.

  Sam stepped closer to me, the heat of the sun melting against the heat between our bodies. Slowly, he reached for the clasp of my hard hat, and my breath flipped and caught like a stuck gear in my throat.

  My lips parted, watching lust and restraint engage in an uncivil war over his sculpted face.

  “I haven’t even seen them kiss except for that once—” Carlos’ voice grew louder, but I couldn’t untether myself from this moment.

  My tongue wetted my lips, the ache between my thighs unbearable. “Sam…”

  It was impossible to know whether it was his name slipping like a plea from my mouth or Carlos’ interrogatory approach that spurred him, but the next thing I knew, Sam tossed my helmet off. The sound of the plastic protection clacking on the dry, sandy ground was a single warning shot before his hands speared through my hair, tipped my head back and his lips covered mine.

  With a gasp, I melted into the kiss, feeling as though I was being dragged back down into the deep darkness of the mine where only touch and taste and smell mattered.

  His earthy musk invaded my senses. Rich and raw, it sank into my lungs like the purest drug and bled into the fabric of my blood, heightening every cell to his touch. But it was the taste of him, spiced and primal, that consumed me—that detonated all my defenses and turned them against me.

  Time and heartbreak should’ve built enough layers against how I desired him. Instead, they’d become nothing more than kindling to a longing that was eager to spark.

  His mouth slanted over mine, firm and precise in its angle and press. But like the rest of him, clean constructed lines hid the wildness underneath.

  My fingers curled into his shirt, feeling the way the logo on the other side of it crinkled in my grip. The boy I’d kissed for a brief moment while hiding in my bedroom was gone. And the kiss I’d asked for, all those years ago, I finally got.

  His tongue slid against my lips, and they parted to let him inside. I felt his muscled arms wrap around me, hotter than the warm gust of wind that began to blow around us, swirling and tumultuous.

  This shouldn’t be happening.

  His tongue teased mine like they’d been two lovers caged and separated for a lifetime. Each lick a memory he’d wanted to give me. Each stroke a promise he wanted to keep. And I clung to him like a life raft while the tides of past and present tried to pull us apart.

  I felt Sam’s low groan tremble against my chest, thunder that preceded the lightning strike that split him from me.

  “Tally,” he said my name, but all I heard was the apology on his lips as he pulled back, his hands sliding to my arms to gently separate our bodies and let the world filter into the space.

  “About time.” Carlos’ annoyed scoff rang clearly through the parking lot.

  Suddenly, I was aware everyone was watching us, but I couldn’t look away from Sam and the way his eyes danced like black coals burning with desire.

  I forced myself to swallow in order to close my parted lips and, to hide how weak and unsteady my arms felt to let him go, I slid my hands up to his face, gently cupping his cheeks and noting the rapid firing of his jaw muscles.

  Dynamite.

  Sam Deschenes was like dynamite to my body. A promise of power. A promise of release. And the full knowledge of complete destruction if I were to light the fuse.

  Trailing my fingers down the straps of his hard hat, I released the clasp like he’d done for me, rising up on my tiptoes to pull the hat from his head. Instantly, a lock of raven hair tumbled forward, drawing a line from his forehead along his cheek.

  “Is the show over?” Carlos drawled with a snicker as I reached up for the stray strand.

  Shadows slashed over Sam’s face, the question piercing through whatever remained of the bubble we’d emerged from the mine in. Sam turned away, curbing the rebellious streak of hair back behind his ear before I had a chance.

  I clasped the hard hat to my chest, hoping it would hide the way my chest was caving in.

  “Did you know, Carlos, that for many animals, abrupt changes from light to dark or dark to light can affect memory?” Sam replied, bending down to pick up my helmet from the ground and slowly brushing the dust off the fluorescent surface.

  “What’s your point, handsome Sam?” Carlos crossed his arms and rested his weight on one hip—doing a poor job of pretending to be disinterested.

  “I think the quick change from the dark mine to the afternoon sun has reset your memory.” Sam’s words snapped like a whip. “You seem to have forgotten that Tally and I are none of your business.”

  A warm, electric tingle spread up my spine as Sam wrapped his arm around my shoulders, gently holding me by his side, and I fought not to smile too big at the way Carlos blustered and reddened at the accusation.

  “Maybe now is a good time to remind you that you have your own girlfriend,” Sam added for good measure, and that time, I couldn’t hold back a small giggle that blended in with the chuckles from the rest of the group.

  Carlos’ mouth opened and shut like a fish searching for something to sustain him, finally retorting, “I didn’t forget about Kendall,” he scoffed. “She’s right—”

  I ducked my head, half turning to Sam with a laugh when Carlos reached for Kendall only to find her missing. A quick glance up revealed she’d wandered to the other end of the parking lot and was taking selfies with the mountains in the background.

  “Dammit, Nico. What the fuck—” Carlos spun on his heel and stormed down the lot, leaving a cloudy trail of dust and desperation in his wake.

  “I told you to leave it alone,” Nico called after him with an exaggerated shrug which was immediately followed by the compulsive adjusting of his scarf.

  “Let’s go,” Sam murmured, angling us toward his truck.

  “One sec.” I turned back to the group. “Thanks for coming, everyone. I hope you enjoyed the tour, and I hope it gave you some inspiration to work with.”

  “Oh, we definitely got some inspiration here,” one of the artists, Kat, replied with a wink. Added to several cheers of agreement and a few whistles, I felt my face burning red.r />
  Great.

  The whole point of Sam being here was so that I wasn’t the center of attention. Only now, instead of an object of pity, I was a focus of fascination.

  “I’ll see you all on Sunday for the opening.” I waved and ducked away before the situation grew any more embarrassing.

  “Enjoy your weekend with Handsome Sam,” Nico called after us, refusing to let go of the nickname that made my face flame even hotter.

  I couldn’t climb into the truck fast enough—or get my legs crossed. Desire stuck to me like the desert’s absent humidity. Thick and inescapable, it quickly filled up the cabin of the truck and clung to the heavy silence.

  “Sam—”

  “I’m sorry, Tally,” he cut me off—and cut out the ground from beneath me.

  Of course, he was sorry.

  I was the one who should be sorry—sorry for being foolish for a few seconds and losing myself in the show.

  “You shouldn’t have kissed me like that.” My heart pounded in my chest like a prisoner screaming my words were a lie.

  “I know.” His head dipped with heavy remorse. “I got a little carried away.”

  He dragged a hand through his hair that fell like a helmet around his head, shielding me from the thoughts I shouldn’t crave to know.

  I swallowed over the bitter ball in my throat and forced myself to keep silent, afraid the next thing to come out of my mouth would be a retraction.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his long exhale flamed the hurt in my chest, and then murmured more quietly, “I don’t want to mess this up, Tally.”

  My head continued to shake like my neck had a screw loose. “There’s nothing to mess up. Carlos is a jerk—”

  “Not with Carlos.”

  I inhaled sharply, pulling my hands into my lap. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t want to mess this up… with you…” My heart fluttered—his words giving hope a weak pulse but a will to survive. “I promised you I wouldn’t bring up the past, and I won’t,” he went on, keeping his gaze straight ahead as he reached for my hand. “But I don’t want to mess this—us up. I want to be your friend again.”

  Friend.

  Again.

  Why did I continue to make this mistake? Each and every time. I had no defense. I had a plan, and I’d been the one to stray from it. I had boundaries, and I’d been the one to let my feelings cross them.

  And Sam? All he’d done was exactly as I’d asked.

  We were pretending well enough for the world, but I couldn’t leave well-enough alone. I had to let myself feel again.

  And begin to fall for my best friend.

  “Tally?” His fingers tightened on mine.

  My head snapped to the side, realizing I’d been unresponsive for too long, and then quickly averted my gaze back out the window.

  It was only one taste. One kiss. One unexpected kiss. I could come back from that. I would. My eyes locked on the mountains that bled red from the sun, seeing the piles of my crazy hopes in their place. Burned and bleeding out.

  “There is no us, Sam.” My voice didn’t even sound like my own. It sounded like betrayal, soft and sharp against my lips. “This is all just pretend. And when it’s done, I’ll go back to New York, continue to follow my dreams, and you’ll stay here. Just like before. Just how you wanted it. Just because it’s easy to remember Arizona doesn’t mean it’s hard to forget there’s no you and me.”

  “You and me,” Sam repeated softly, like he was refusing to let everything they represented go.

  Against the world. I didn’t say the words, choosing rather to trap their ricochet inside my chest—a broken-up bullet tearing through my brave barricades.

  “Not anymore.”

  “Tally,” he growled my name.

  “Please.” I sunk deeper into the seat, wishing I could melt into it and disappear.

  What was I thinking?

  This was a bad idea from the very start. No question. But now, I realized bad wasn’t the worst thing an idea could be. Dangerous was.

  I settled into the silence and the truce that felt as tenuous and unstable as working in the mines, knowing every single second with him was lined with explosive desire that would ignite with the slightest spark. And destroy me all over again.

  “We’ll see.”

  When I’d left Bisbee, I thought I’d tied all the strands of our friendship—and my complicated feelings for him—into a nice, neat little bow. But now, the rest of my time here would have to be a conscious fight against the unraveling.

  “If you stare any harder, Talia, he might turn to stone.”

  “What?” I jerked my attention to Mee-Maw who stood by my side at the front of the gallery.

  Wearing a dress that was both patterned and tie-dyed, her white hair braided over one shoulder, and copious amounts of jewelry, Mee-Maw looked like a Native American hippie—but that was who she was. Bold. Unapologetic.

  “Who are you talking about, Mee-Maw?”

  Her eyebrow rose, revealing bright teal and orange eyeshadow on her lid. “Who else?” she tutted. “Your Sam, of course.”

  “He’s not my Sam,” I grumbled, feeling my eyes snag on his devastating form.

  I didn’t know what I was expecting, but when Sam showed up for the exhibit’s opening night in black suit pants that fit too nicely around his ass, a black button-down shirt, and western Bolo tie with a vibrant turquoise stone set in the dark metal fastener, I wasn’t prepared. At all.

  I wasn’t prepared for the way his hair was pulled back tightly to the base of his scalp, leaving the prominent curve of his cheeks and jaw exposed. Nor for the way his shirt molded to every solid muscle and graceful movement of his body as he flowed easily through the crowd.

  I was prepared to want him. After that kiss, it was inevitable. I wasn’t prepared for this new side of him to make the want so ferocious and unyielding.

  “His tie is quite stunning,” she remarked, sliding me a glance. “I wonder where he got it.”

  “Probably somewhere in town. I’m sure you could ask him.” I shrugged and murmured, “He always loved Bisbee Blue.”

  Her bony elbow nudged me. “I don’t know that it was Bisbee’s blue he loved—”

  “Mee-Maw,” I hissed. “Enough.”

  “Oh, Talia. Are we still there?” My grandmother sighed.

  “We’re friends. That’s where we are. He’s my friend. That’s it.”

  That. Was. It. And even that was a stretch

  “Is he?” She glanced at me, an eager look of pleasant surprise. “Well, that’s good.”

  “Maybe not friend,” I backtracked. “This is me needing his help and him owing me for ruining our friendship for no reason.”

  “Sometimes, we do wrong things for the right reasons.”

  I folded my arms. “What does that mean?”

  “Remember the pizza stone?” She grinned and I balked. “The one you made?”

  She knew. Dammit, Sam was right.

  I dropped my head back and let out a pitiful laugh. “How long have you known?”

  Her hand pressed to her chest. “You wound me, child,” she accused. “Of course, I’ve known the whole time.”

  My mouth fell open, letting silent questions tumble out.

  “Oh, please, Talia. No teenager makes even a flat piece of stoneware that perfectly,” she formed me with a smirk and my mouth snapped shut. “Plus, it said Screaming Banshee on the bottom.”

  “Great,” I grumbled, pausing the conversation to welcome another group of visitors, exchanging their tickets for the brochures I’d made to give a background on the artists, the town of Bisbee, and the collaboration between the two.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” I turned back to Mee-Maw and asked as soon as the group moved into the crowd.

  The older woman gave me that wisdom-filled smile to complement her eyes that teased how they wouldn’t reveal all her secrets to me.

  “I just told you, child, we all do wrong t
hings for the right reasons sometimes.” She reached out and gave my arm a squeeze.

  “Mee-Maw—” I was cut off and subsequently ignored when her friend, Janine, entered the gallery, and Mee-Maw jubilantly left me hanging in favor of welcoming her and insisting on giving her a tour of the exhibit.

  “Tally.”

  My attention snapped back to the man I couldn’t stop staring at, his elegantly-clad form invading my senses.

  “Hey, Sam.” I smiled and locked my hands in front of me.

  “You look beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes breaking formation like twin traitors slipping behind enemy lines.

  My body warmed under his gaze, goose bumps painting my skin and making my nipples harden against the skintight black dress I’d chosen. It was elegant and sophisticated without being flashy. But the way his dark eyes flared like hot coals made me wonder if the choice was far sexier than I’d thought.

  Of course, I wanted to look good. It was my first solo exhibit. Small, but important. But the way he looked at me made me wonder if I hadn’t picked this dress for another reason. To look good for him.

  The man I’d given the cold shoulder to after our kiss. But I had no choice.

  My heart jumped against my chest, hearing Sam groan just before he quickly wiped a hand over his mouth to conceal it. With a slight jerk of his head, recalling his duty, he reached out and cupped my cheek. My pulse sped up and my lips parted, though I knew it was for nothing. He pulled my head to him, and I ignored the hope his lips would fall a little lower and sighed when his kiss pressed to my forehead.

  Even though I steeled myself for it every time, there was nothing to protect me from the tiny explosion set off by the touch of his lips…even against my forehead. Now, I noticed, these kisses—the ones I could so easily claim to be just a show—felt like lifelines. Like quick gasps of air above the surface before those very real feelings were dragged back into the depths of our mutual deceit.

  “Thank you,” I murmured. “You clean up nicely, too.”

  Humor no longer helped quell the want.

  “What do you think? Do you think it’s going okay?” I turned and straightened all the brochures and information I’d laid out on the welcome table even though none of them were askew.