by Lori Wilde
“Famished.” But for more than food. That was something else she didn't tell him as he led her to the tent, carrying the meat on a platter. He had cushions on the canvas floor with small table set up between them.
Two place settings of her aunt's fine china were set on the table, along with two neatly folded linen napkins, a bowl of potato salad, and a jar of sweet pickles. Merlot sparkled in the wineglasses and a taper candle burned in the center of the table, casting a flickering golden glow inside the tent.
"Looks like you've thought of everything," she said, taking a seat across from him, "except silverware."
He smiled, then reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a tool similar to a pocketknife. “I’ve got a fork, knife, and spoon right here,” he said, folding the utensils out. “They’re detachable, which makes them easy to use.”
“Where did you find those?”
He gave her look. “I’m a bounty hunter, so I’m always prepared for anything.”
She laughed, realizing there was something different about him tonight. He was more relaxed, the tiny tension lines erased from his eyes and mouth. “Do you keep a spare for guests?”
“Never had a guest with me on the job before,” he said, reaching into the bag beside him. “But I do have a spare.”
Gracie held out her hands and Sam tossed it to her. She caught it in midair, then unfolded the silverware and detached them from the holder.
"Dig in." He handed her a linen napkin, then laid his own across his lap.
She eyed the mouthwatering meal in front of her. "There's no way I can eat all of this."
"Just make sure you save room for dessert," he replied. "We're roasting marshmallows."
She loaded her plate, then watched Sam do the same. "Tell me more about bounty hunting."
He smiled. “Are you asking for business reasons, because Amanda already told me your company could help me increase my success rate.”
Gracie laughed as speared a piece of steak with her fork. “That sounds like Amanda. She’s actually one of my best friends. We keep it professional in the workplace, but we have a lot of fun together on the weekends.”
He nodded. “Whenever I’m back home at the ranch, my brothers and I usually go to Wildcat Tavern to have fun. I haven’t been there in a while though. Been too busy catching two-legged varmints.”
“That sounds exciting.” She leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”
Sam reached for the pickle jar. “I do have a few stories that might interest you. There was this one time in El Paso...”
As Gracie listened to his bounty hunter stories, she realized how much she loved the sound of his deep voice. Maybe that had been the reason she’d been so mesmerized the night he’d imitated Gilbert’s voice. Because now that she’d seen Gilbert again, she realized that Sam had mimicked his voice and intonations perfectly. But the timbre of Gilbert’s voice didn’t have Sam’s deep resonance.
Once she’d finished eating, Gracie put aside her empty plate. She stretched her legs on the blanket and watched Sam as he continued to serenade her with his witty, exciting stories. It was nice to talk about something other than the case and Gilbert, two stories that had dominated their every conversation for the past few days. She wanted to savor this moment, make it a special memory she could keep forever and dust off occasionally whenever her life got too busy.
"More wine?" He refilled her glass before she even had a chance to reply, then topped off his own.
They drank and talked, oblivious to everything but each other. Sam told her about growing up on Elk Creek Ranch and all the times his Grandpa Henry had taken Sam and his brothers camping. She heard the love in his voice when he spoke about his family, and she wondered what it would feel like to have that many people love and care about you.
Then it was Gracie’s turn and she talked about things he probably already knew from reading her emails to Gilbert, but she told her stories anyway. She talked about her mother and stepfather, and how abandoned she'd felt when they'd left her—something she'd never even confided to Gilbert. Then she told him all about Aunt Jolene and how Gracie’s life had changed for the better the moment she’d landed on her doorstep.
Just like her life had changed when she’d kissed fake Gilbert. She smiled at the memory, wondering at the unlikely chain of events that had led to that moment.
And to this moment.
Sitting with him in the tent, Gracie felt as though she and Sam were alone in the world. If only it were true. "I've never done anything like this before."
"Neither have I," he admitted, leaning over to refill her wineglass. “I never mix business with pleasure after what happened with Ray. But something about you is... different.”
“I know what you mean,” she said, deciding to take it as a compliment. “But how did you know this was my favorite wine?”
He smiled. “Well, I hope this doesn’t ruin the moment, but you mentioned in an October eighth email to Gilbert the last year you corresponded with him.” Sam cleared his throat. “I mean, me.”
She blinked in surprise. “I did? But how in the world do you know the exact date? Did you memorize all my emails?"
Sam took a long sip of his wine before he answered. “I may have read them once or twice—or more times than I can recall. I love bounty hunting, but it can get lonely on the road. Reading your emails always made me feel like I wasn’t alone out there.”
Gracie didn’t know what to say. “I can’t even remember what I wrote.”
“Mostly funny stories about your life and people you met. I realize now it was like eavesdropping, and I don’t blame you for getting mad about it.” A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “My brother Jack warned me that my bag of tricks would get me into trouble one day, but I didn’t realize how much it would hurt you. I apologize for that.”
Gracie reached for her wineglass, aware that she was harboring a secret of her own. “No need to apologize. I think we’ve moved past that.”
Sam smiled. “Except for you naming me Fake Gilbert on your phone. Andrew thought I was a stalker.”
“Andrew?” Gracie sat up straight, completely confused now. “Are you talking about the new intern at my office?”
He nodded, then pushed his empty plate away. “He’s a nice kid. I like him.”
“When did you meet Andrew?”
“At your office today when I went looking for you.”
"About that..." she began, still uncertain how much to tell him.
"Later," he said, then held out his hand. "It's time for dessert."
She let him pull her to her feet. They just stood there for a moment together, their shadows touching on the tent wall. Gracie looked up at Sam, suddenly hoping that he'd kiss her.
Instead, he handed her a stick with the bark peeled off. "I made this especially for you."
She laughed, then stuck a marshmallow on the end of the stick while he carried the small table, the dishes still on top of it, into the kitchen. When he emerged from the house, Sam peeled a stick of his own before joining her by the stone chimney.
"How much did all of this cost?" she asked, standing next to him as they roasted the marshmallows.
"The sticks were free," he replied. "I pilfered them from your yard."
"And the rest?"
He turned to look at her. "The rest doesn't matter. It was worth every penny."
Something in his eyes told her this night was just beginning. A thrill of anticipation shot through her and Gracie knew exactly what she wanted for dessert.
"Your marshmallow is burning," he said softly. Sam pulled her stick toward him and blew out the fire. Then he carefully pulled the marshmallow off and held it to her mouth. "Be careful. It might be hot."
She grasped his hand, bringing it closer to her mouth. Then she lightly blew on it before taking a tiny nibble of the charred surface. The gooey, warm middle oozed out and she caught it with her tongue.
She saw Sam watching her and noticed his eyes darken
when her tongue flicked over his thumb. Taking her time, she took small bites of the marshmallow, enjoying both the sweet flavor and Sam's reaction.
"That was delicious," she said, feeling a little stickiness on her lower lip as she spoke. She reached up to wipe it off, but Sam stopped her.
"Let me," he rasped.
He leaned forward, nipping her lip with his mouth until the stickiness was gone.
"We still have mine," he said, pulling his marshmallow from the fire. It was charred almost beyond recognition, but neither one of them seemed to mind.
Gracie pulled it off and brought the marshmallow to his lips. “I never took you for a marshmallow man.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” Then Sam ate the marshmallow in one bite, making them both laugh as his arms came around her.
“Now I have you exactly where I want you,” she teased.
Sam swallowed the mouthful of marshmallow, then reached out and caressed her cheek with one knuckle. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered. “You are so beautiful.”
He cradled her face in his hands, showering kisses on her mouth, her nose, her cheeks. Savoring the feel of her soft skin and the heady taste of her that he knew would leave him craving more.
Tears gleamed in her eyes, but she smiled at his words. “I’m glad you weren’t Gilbert. That night at the reunion. I’m glad it was you.”
“Me too.” He pulled her closer as lightning crackled in the sky above them, and the wind picked up.
“The storm’s moving in,” Gracie said, gazing up at him. “Do you still want to camp out here tonight?”
He grinned. “I think I have a better idea.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The next morning, Gracie awoke on the living room sofa, the sun slanting through the large windows. She lay wrapped in Sam's arms, his warm body spooned around her back and his head nestled in the crook of her shoulder.
They’d made a run for the house last night as the clouds had opened and spilled a downpour of rain. Once inside, Gracie had chosen a couple of her favorite classic movies for them to watch on the sofa together, while Sam made popcorn. Then he'd kissed her again on the sofa as the thunder boomed and raindrops pattered against the windowpanes. She could still taste marshmallow on her tongue. And Sam. A thrill shot through her at the memory of their evening together.
An evening that had burned away her last remaining doubts about trusting him.
"Are you awake?" she whispered.
"Hmmm," he murmured against her neck.
"Sam," she said, turning in his arms to face him.
His eyes were half closed, his face slack with sleep. "I'm awake."
She smiled, hating to rouse him from his relaxed state. But this was too important to wait. "It's about Gilbert."
His eyes opened at the name, tension lines forming around his mouth. "What about him?"
Gracie wasn't sure how to broach the subject without making him angry, so she just decided to tell him straight out instead of trying to sugarcoat it. "I saw him, Sam."
"You what?" He was wide awake now, rising up on one elbow. "When?"
She placed one hand on his shoulder, smoothing it over the taut muscles beneath his blue chambray shirt. "Last night. Right before I came home. I met him at an abandoned warehouse on Parvey Road."
He stared at her for a moment, then pulled her tight against him. "Promise me you'll never do that again, Gracie. He could have hurt you or... worse."
Her eyes stung at the anguish she heard in his voice. "I'm fine," she assured him. "Gilbert would never hurt me. He just wanted to talk to me."
Sam held her a few moments longer before finally pulling away far enough to look into her face. "So, what did he say to you?"
She sighed, part of her feeling like she was betraying her friend. But she couldn't keep this secret from Sam any longer. Not after everything they’d shared last night.
"He wants me to bring him the videotape."
Sam sat up at that news, muscles flexing in shoulders at the movement. Gracie couldn't help staring at the way his shirt molded against his body, every muscle honed to perfection. He seemed oblivious to the effect looking at him had on her. Or maybe he was used to women ogling him.
She shook that unpleasant thought from her head. He was with her at this moment. That's all that mattered. She couldn't let herself worry about yesterday or tomorrow, not when she knew firsthand how quickly life could derail her plans.
But part of her couldn't help but dream about a future with Sam, camping with him and watching old movies together. A dream that seemed impossible with so many obstacles in their way—but that didn't make it any less precious.
"That darn tape," Sam muttered. "What's on it that could be so important?"
She shook her head. "Gilbert wouldn't tell me, though he did say that he intended to take it straight to the police."
Sam arched a skeptical brow. "And you believed him?"
A chill passed through her at his expression. "Of course. He'd never lie to me."
He tossed a sofa pillow aside and stood up. "I don't believe this. Why didn't you tell me all of this right away?"
She pulled the sofa pillow to her chest, hating the tension forming between them once more. The same tired argument. Sam vilifying Gilbert while she defended him. She didn't want any more walls between them, but he had to at least meet her halfway.
"I wasn't going to tell you at all," she replied, watching him rake one hand through his tousled hair. "But..."
"But?" he prodded, then his face softened. "But you thought I wouldn't be such a jerk about it." He walked over to the sofa and reached for her hands. "Look, Gracie, I'm not really upset with you. Just the thought of you alone with that guy..." He grasped her hands tighter. "Anything could have happened."
"Don't you trust me?" she asked, really needing to know the answer.
"Yes," he replied without hesitation. "It's Holloway I don't trust."
"But I've told you over and over that Gilbert would never hurt me. If I matter to you at all," she said, meeting his gaze, "then you need to know how important it is for you to believe me."
"You matter," he said firmly. "You have no idea how much. Gracie, I..." His cell phone rang, cutting off his words. He glanced at his screen, then huffed out a breath. "I’d better take this. I’ll be right back.”
When Sam walked out the front door, Gracie started folding up the blanket that had covered them last night. She could hear his deep voice on the front porch and wondered who would be calling him at this hour.
She discovered the answer to the question when he walked back into her living room. "That was Nick. He just told me the Pine City police have Dorie in custody. Apparently, she wants to cut a deal."
"In custody?" Gracie said. "How did that happen?"
"She stole a car and was headed out of town when it broke down. The police caught up with her before she could get away."
"She was leaving Pine City?"
"Looks that way."
"Then Allison's plan must have fallen through. That means Gilbert could be in trouble."
"Forget about Gilbert," he bit out. "I want you to promise me to stay away from both him and that warehouse until I get back from the police station."
"But—"
"No, Gracie. We have to do this my way. If we're lucky, Dorie will spill everything and we'll be able to wrap up this case today."
After everything she'd said, everything that had happened between them, Sam was still acting solo. He didn't really trust her. Didn't believe in her. And it was starting to seem likely he'd never be able to do either. So much for fantasizing about a future with him. When this case was over, Sam would just walk away.
"Promise me," he prodded, his gaze intent on her face.
She looked at him, something breaking inside of her. "All right."
He leaned over to kiss her, his hands gripping her shoulders. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Then we'll talk about everything. About us
."
Gracie watched him walk out the door, knowing nothing would ever be the same between them.
Because she was about to break a promise to the man she loved.
#
Sam didn't realize until he entered the Pine City Police Station that he'd forgotten the videotape. He'd been too distracted by the expression he’d seen on Gracie's face to think clearly. Something was wrong, but he wouldn't be able to resolve it until he cleared up this mess with Gilbert.
Holloway was the problem, as always. Coming between them just when they were about to make a real connection. Like this morning when he'd awakened to find Gracie in his arms. For a moment, he’d thought it had been a dream. Then she'd smiled at him, and he'd known it was real.
That's why this uneasiness roiling around inside of him bothered Sam so much. He felt as if he were being pulled in two different directions, forced to choose between keeping his promise to avenge Ray and making Gracie happy.
It was also the reason he needed to close this case before it broke them apart. He wanted Gracie to be his first priority. Wanted to give her his full and undivided attention.
But that wasn't the only reason. Despite Gracie's promise to stay away from Holloway, he couldn't really be sure she appreciated the danger she was in. She was so confident in her ability to take care of herself. Sam had been the same way before Ray had been shot. So certain he could handle any situation.
But he'd been wrong.
"Sam Holden?"
He turned around to see Detective Luke Rafferty walking toward him, wearing wrinkled gray slacks and a white shirt with a blue tie. He carried a cup of coffee in his hand, along with a chocolate donut wrapped in a paper napkin.
"Glad you could make it on such short notice,” Luke said, stopping beside him. “Nick got called away, but he told me to watch for you. Are you still looking for the person who shot your old partner?”
"I am.” Sam removed his cowboy hat. “I just hope this won't take long."
"We're still waiting for Dorie Phillips' lawyer to show up." He held up the doughnut. "I figured there would be enough time for me to have breakfast."
Impatience wafted through him. "She lawyered up already?"