“By hiding underneath my table? By never looking me in the eye? I think I’m ready for a dog. Or a cat. Or a small dog.”
“Are you sure? Dogs are a huge responsibility. We’re talking sometimes fourteen years of a relationship if you’re lucky. And you’re spending too much time away from home as it is. Spending the night in your trailer, I heard.”
“Not anymore.”
“Why? Finally get all caught up?”
She wondered if that would ever be true when it seemed more obstacles were thrown her way every day. “That would be nice but no. My cot broke.”
“How’d that happen?”
“Will my answer have any bearing on whether or not I’m qualified to be a dog mommy?”
“I don’t think so.”
“It may or may not have broken when Sam slept on top of me. Except that he wasn’t really sleeping.”
Zoey giggled. “Okay, so we’ve relaxed the boss/employee rule?”
“I don’t know. Have we?”
“You tell me.”
“Not really. It was just this once.”
“Which was what you said about the first time.”
“So maybe it was twice.”
“Yes, I can count,” Zoey said. “You realize what you’re doing, don’t you? You’re doing that thing you do when you go after a guy who’s totally unavailable. Which is why you’re not ready to be a dog mommy.”
“I can’t have a dog because I pick unavailable men? That doesn’t even make any sense. How about I get a dog because I pick unavailable men?”
“And you work too hard. Carly and I couldn’t even get you to come out with us for a year when you were planning this park.”
“This is a big deal. It means a lot to me. You know that.”
“I do, which is why you haven’t had the room for too many other big things in your life. Like a dog.”
“Okay, okay. Listen, I know you’re right about the pet. I’m not ready. Which is the only reason I haven’t gone behind your back and adopted one anyway.” She took a glance at Shak, now hopping back to her cage, leaving a trail of pellets in her wake.
Who preferred a cage to being allowed to roam free? Did she have a demented bunny or were all bunnies like this?
Zoey gasped, as if she couldn’t believe Jill would go against her pet advice.
“Anyway, who says I’m not ready for a relationship with a nice guy? I am now. The problem is all I meet are unavailable men.”
Like Sam. But he’d been so sweet to her today. He was trying. That said something. But it didn’t say he was available.
“Hmm. Maybe you’re attracted to men who are unavailable because you’re the one who’s unavailable. Oh, that’s good. I’m going to write that one down.”
But even if that had been true about her at one time, it wasn’t any longer. Not since the moment she’d met Sam for the second time at the flagpole. And especially not since the night of the broken cot. He didn’t seem to be as closed off as she’d initially thought. At least not with her. She was his exception. No doubt he was dealing with stuff so painful he couldn’t talk about it. She had to give him that.
What he’d been through would remain private and all his until, and if, he would be willing to share it with her.
* * *
Intimacy was screwing with Sam’s head again. He couldn’t let it.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t gone without sex for very long stretches of time. During his deployments. During the long year of recovery in the rehabilitation unit in Germany. When the roadside bomb had exploded and hit the Humvee, it had thrown him about forty feet. He’d landed on his ass unable to feel his legs. But he’d done a hell of a lot better than Tim and Dave, who were gone. Obliterated.
Sam was the sole survivor, left behind so he could apparently feel sorry for himself for one interminable year. For a formerly active person, the sudden need for a wheelchair was nothing less than terrifying, even though the doctors told him he’d eventually regain use of his legs. Once he’d graduated to crutches, he began to see it would be possible. With an end in sight, he’d worked harder on his own recovery, picturing all the things he’d do again. Skiing. Riding. Hiking. Swimming. Things his friends would never get to do again. He’d always have some residual pain from a compressed spine, but he’d walk again. He’d hike and climb mountains and rocks. Have sex.
Somehow, because he was young, the doctors said, his body had healed well after the surgery and rehab. Not his mind. His mind was still in that dark and desolate place where he was to blame for everything. He’d failed to control the outcome. He hadn’t saved his friends. Now he was back stateside with the almost-unbearable knowledge that his parents had been right. The thought was so ugly and raw that he resisted it. But it continually crept up and fought for space and top billing. Hikes helped. Keeping busy helped. He didn’t want them to have been right. It meant he’d broken up a family for no good reason. It meant he’d broken far more than he could ever fix.
The look in Jill’s eyes when he’d told her he couldn’t stop thinking about her was both exciting and scary. She couldn’t see he was doing her a favor by trying to stay away. He’d only affirm her insecurities and drag her down to his level of almost-constant darkness. It was selfish of him to keep seeking her out simply because she made him feel wanted and normal. He understood that was because of something she’d never know. In that hospital bed, and during rehab, for an entire year she was his happy place. She was the place his mind went to when the exercises were excruciating. The night he’d been with her was the last night he’d been normal in what turned out to be a long year of recovery.
Thankfully, he’d recovered from his incredible ability to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. He’d been able to admit not just to himself, but to her, that he didn’t want to stay away. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. He didn’t know what to do with that in the head place where he was stuck, but if she wanted him he wouldn’t be the one to deny her.
Other than Julian, who now ran with him every morning, Sam had tried to keep his distance from the men, who’d already formed some close friendships, he could see. Julian kept pressing and bringing him into the fold. But at thirty, Sam was the oldest in the group and he didn’t like getting too attached if he could help it. Knowing that he’d feel too responsible if something went wrong. He could already see that some of them were too lax on the job. Ty and Michael certainly didn’t push themselves though they had the ability to do so. But that was a relief to Sam for the most part, as he’d like everyone to stay safe. If there were any risks to take, he’d rather be the one to take them.
That meant he’d soon be taking a ten-mile hike over the entire ridge. Over dry and craggy terrain and off trails, he’d eventually suggest a two-day excursion with a stop or two for camping. Stargazing and that kind of thing. He planned to chart the hike using his own map. Maybe he’d actually meet up with one of the infamous mountain lions he’d heard so much about.
The next day, after completing the chores assigned to him, Sam headed back to his trailer late in the afternoon.
Jill stood talking to a firefighter he recognized as having been part of the friends and family trial run. The guy seemed to be into Jill, leaning in, laughing, shooting the shit like a champ. For her part, Jill tossed her hair and laughed, flirting with equal championship skill levels. The white-hot streak of jealousy that coursed through him split him in two. No idea why. He had no right to feel this way. No right at all.
“Sam,” Jill said as he walked close enough to them to have to be acknowledged. “Remember Kevin?”
He shook the guy’s hand. “Hey.”
“How are you, Sam? That was a hell of a workout you put me through the other day. I’m still sore. But I had a blast.”
“Then I’ve done my job.”
“Kevin’s just here to talk about the controlled
burn they like to do up here—”
“Yeah,” Sam interrupted and opened and shut his trailer door, effectively ending the conversation.
Rude, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t feel chatty now. Or ever. Jill had company. Let her flirt with the handsome firefighter. He probably knew how to talk to women without insulting them. He might even be able to take care of himself and someone else, too. Sam was still working on that. Man, wasn’t he a sad case? He was sick of himself.
After a few more minutes of flirtatious laughter and chatting he could hear drifting through the weak aluminum walls, Kevin left. Seconds later, Jill was at Sam’s door.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
She hadn’t been in here since the day she’d assigned him the trailer. Now she’d be able to see that he hadn’t done a damn thing to make the place his own. No pictures up or signs of permanence. Somehow that was going to come back to bite him. She’d see that as a sign he had no intention of sticking around.
“What was that about just now? You just walked away when I was in the middle of a sentence.”
“You were busy with your boyfriend. I thought you should get back to it. You’re welcome.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
Of course he knew that. Jill was not the kind of woman who hooked up with a guy when she was already with someone else. He shrugged, wondering if they’d let him back in grade school since he was acting like a child again. He’d fit right in, though the desk might be too small.
“Sam, what’s going on? Things are weird between us again. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”
She could join his club. He didn’t want this, either. “If you want me to leave, I will.”
“No, I don’t want you to. Wait. Do you want to quit?”
He shook his head. For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he didn’t want to go. Not yet. “I don’t mind staying.”
“Good. We’ll work this out. If you want, we can be friends for now.”
He scowled. “You want me as a friend.”
“Why not? We have a lot in common.”
“We do?” He racked his brain for what he might have in common with any woman, but especially one like Jill.
One who for reasons that weren’t entirely her fault, had never pushed her physical limitations. One who highly respected the military and held it in the highest of regard. She had more in common with the old Sam. The Sam that went to war, and not the one that came back.
The man that came back was beginning to understand that his family had been right and his friends’ sacrifices had been for nothing at all. Which meant that the past twelve years of his life had been wasted.
“For one thing, we both love Wildfire Ridge and want it to be successful. And you’ve been a friend to me. You helped me realize a few things. Maybe I did want to impress my family. But that’s not the reason I did this. I want to help. I saw what Ryan went through when he got back home. He was one of the lucky ones. But I can’t stand the fact that there’s even one veteran in our country who can’t find work. I know I can’t solve the entire problem, but I have to do what I can.”
Christ. That was it. The words hit him like a solid punch to the gut. She did pity him. All of them. This company was a charity of sorts. Her way of giving back, and while he might be able to take that from anyone else, he couldn’t accept it coming from her. He wanted to kiss her pouty soft mouth and wring her neck at the same time. She was so sweet and pure and somehow untarnished by the world. Her intentions were so damned good. Perfect. She had no idea.
When it came to his service, she had nothing to thank him for at all.
He stepped into her, just got right up in her space like he didn’t think he’d ever do again. “Sorry. I can’t be your friend.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why not?”
“Because you piss me off sometimes.”
“Oh.”
He reached for her and wrapped one hand around the nape of her neck. “Also, I can’t stop thinking about you naked.”
She smiled. “I guess we have a problem, don’t we?”
“And as problems go, it’s a good one to have.”
Chapter Fourteen
Good thing that Jill had finally agreed to go dancing at the Silver Saddle with Zoey and Carly, because between wildflowers and Sam, she had to stop overthinking.
Dancing was a much better idea.
Best of all, Zoey and Carly didn’t want to talk about Sam or Wildfire Ridge’s Outdoor Adventures. They’d christened tonight a work-free zone and a man-free zone. Not that Sam was Jill’s man.
“Grace did the cutest thing yesterday,” Carly said when they were taking a break.
“No!” Zoey held up her hand. “Baby-free zone!”
Carly made a face, then turned to Jill.
She raised her bottle. “Sorry, I have to agree.”
“Then what do we talk about if we can’t talk about work or men or our children?” Carly said.
“We...can talk about our pets,” Zoey said tentatively.
“Falls too closely under work for you. To be fair,” Jill said with a finger waggle.
They sat in silence for several minutes, enjoying the sounds of Thomas Rhett singing “Die a Happy Man.” It was a slow, romantic song. A couples tune, and there were plenty of them on the dance floor. Some staring into each other’s eyes like they were stupid with love. Others clung to each other. Oh, sigh. She wanted that, too. Wanted to be deeply in love for maybe the first time in her life. The real thing. He didn’t have to be perfect. Just perfect for her.
The girls only danced to the fast songs with each other. Considering Carly was married, and Zoey and Jill wanted to dance and not hook up, it was a great arrangement. They occasionally had to explain this to a hopeful-looking man.
Jill slapped the table. “Okay! I want to talk about Sam.”
She had expected them to protest, but she was wrong about that. Both Carly and Zoey turned to her, eyes wide and zoning in.
“Help me. I’m overthinking again,” Jill said.
“You have a tendency to do that.” Zoey nodded.
“Honey, knowing your family, you were trained to think in the womb,” Carly said.
“But it isn’t crazy, either,” Zoey added. “To consider this thing between you and Sam carefully. You should.”
“Right?” But when Jill thought back to one of the few times she’d acted purely on an impulse, she had to go back to San Francisco and Sam.
Generally speaking, she wasn’t one to throw caution to the wind in either relationships or business. The night with Sam had been an anomaly. Now she found herself moving forward with him, and then pulling back. By all accounts he seemed to be doing the same. But her feelings for him had deepened after their second time together, and she hoped maybe his had, as well.
“You have to take a chance with him,” Carly said. “You take some risks in business so maybe it’s time to take a risk with a serious relationship.”
Jill wanted that. She wanted to risk it all with Sam. But he blew hot and cold all the time. Earlier today, she could have sworn they’d made progress and she’d wanted to talk with him again before she left. But as she left to meet the girls, he’d barely looked at her. He’d been deep in conversation with Julian and she didn’t want to interrupt.
Eventually, Jill, Carly and Zoey took to the dance floor hand in hand, getting jiggy with Garth Brooks’s “Friends in Low Places.”
After a few minutes, Jill hit the restroom and on her way out, caught Sam sitting in a corner by himself. Against the wall with no one behind him. Nursing a beer. Her heart squeezed because other than the uniform, the crew cut and the coin flipping between his fingers, he looked exactly like the night they’d first met. It hurt her heart to see him so alone. She headed his way, an
d he caught sight of her. She smiled but he didn’t return it. Yep. Another step back. He stood, left a few bills under his bottle and walked out.
Oh hell no.
Jill wound her way through the dance floor, ducking couples and shrugging off Carly when she tried to pull her back on the dance floor. Sam Hunt, her second favorite Sam, sang “Leave the Night On.” Jill loved this song. But her Sam wasn’t getting away from her without saying hello.
“Hey!” she shouted into the night air.
He was next to his motorcycle, which he’d parked near the front. Saddling up. He simply quirked a brow, as if to acknowledge that, yes, he’d heard her.
She impersonated a storm trooper as she stomped up next to him. “Are you leaving?”
“Too noisy in there.”
“Well, it is a bar.”
“Now it’s too noisy out here.” He put his helmet on. “Came in to get a drink. I’m done.”
“Because you saw me?”
“No. I saw you and your friends when you came in.”
“You’ve been sitting back there all this time and didn’t even come over to say hello?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Why do you keep doing this? Making it weird between us.”
He straddled his motorcycle and started up the beast. It roared to life. And he ignored the question.
Jill had met up with plenty of obstacles in her life. Illness. Mean girls. Overprotective and disapproving parents. Failed business ventures. Screwed-up relationships. And now, a wildflower.
It wasn’t easy to get her down for the count. Sam should know this about her.
“Let’s go.” She straddled his motorcycle on what little room was left right behind him. Just tucked in her dress on either side of her legs. Fortunately, she wore her cowgirl boots.
He twisted back and slid her the kind of scary look she thought he’d reserve only for someone who had kicked his Harley, not simply sat on it without first being asked.
“Jill, get off.”
“No.” She swallowed hard at the deep and no-nonsense tone in his voice.
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