What were the odds Adam would never locate where and to whom he’d truly belong? It was too grave a mistake to repeat himself.
“Maybe,” she said.
He could envision her settling next to him. Or on top. Underneath, too. Relaxing against the seat, he idly stroked two fingers on Ink’s back and studied Sammy as she drove. He couldn’t help lazily taking in the curves of her toned body, skin so smooth he could nuzzle it like satin, her breasts heaving in slight thrusts from her breaths, like perfect globes to fit in his hands.
Jake’s sister. Jake’s sister. Do not go there. It wasn’t what she needed from him.
She cracked her neck, oblivious to his stares, and exposed the slender slope of her skin above her collar bone. Like an invitation.
Jake’s. Sister. Jake’s. Sister.
He couldn’t allow himself any more desire for her in such close proximity. She deserved more than a fling with a guy who couldn’t stay still, or a soldier potentially due to depart again. Sammy deserved the real deal. She wanted him as a friend, nothing more.
Clearing his throat, he tore his gaze from her and opened the Landy book again. “Maybe?” he asked. “You haven’t already settled in San Francisco?”
“It wasn’t like I planned to go there. I was more intent on getting away from Concord.”
“You could leave Clare?” Even after her plan to keep the woman happy in her own her own home?
“Not easily. Maybe after she… I don’t know. Guess I haven’t gotten that far in the planning stage yet, either.”
As she drove on and Stone Temple Pilots provided music from the radio, he admired Sammy’s illustrations in the books. Halfway through, he couldn’t bring himself to turn the page. Landy spoke to a dog. Granted, the title alluded to a pet shop—it was a logical pair of species engaging in an imaginary conversation. But why a Great Dane? Reverently tracing the lines of the images, he narrowed his eyes. A gray Great Dane. With a blue collar.
The exact pet he used to dream of owning someday. What were the odds she’d drummed up this vision on her own?
“Sammy?” he asked, peering at her.
“Yeah?”
“You ever think about me … after I left?”
She didn’t reply, her attention riveted to the lane of traffic ahead of them. Pursing her lips, then twitching them to one side, he picked up on her hesitation to answer.
Had absence made her heart fonder … as it had his? Did his distance render him a larger than life, impossible to reach dream for her—as she had for him in all those days in the Army?
Settling down was still too huge of a question mark. As Jake’s sister, she was still off-limits. Knowing how perfect she was, he refused to permit himself to dream once again of having her as more than a friend.
But he’d be a liar to say he’d never thought about her. What she looked like as she jumped the hurdle of teenage years to adulthood. How she would change her views of life as she entered college, thought about careers.
His frequent, near-daily musings about her tended to fall in the category of jack-off material, recalling her as a one-of-a-kind female, a comforting presence. He was only human, after all. When she’d had that short hair, like Natalie Imbruglia, with such plump, inviting lips and soulful blue eyes. When she’d blast him with one of her timid smiles, share a rare laugh, or a jab of witty sarcasm.
Had he missed her? Of course. But he’d anticipated her juvenile crush on him would have faded as soon as he’d left for boot camp.
“Sammy?” He had to know.
“All the time.”
He narrowed his eyes at her profile, searching for a hint of sarcasm since she’d said it so bluntly.
Secure in her navigation of the car, she turned to face him for a second. Solemn seriousness bore at him from her unblinking gaze. Unmasked lust shone in her eyes.
“All the damn time.”
Fuck. Me.
Chapter Eleven
Lexington, Nebraska
Later that evening, when the sun finally gave up its role as a massive orb in the sky, taking the inescapable summer heat with it, Adam obeyed the instructions from the navigation screen on the dash. He drove them to an inexpensive motel, somewhere that looked like they wouldn’t overspend money they didn’t have, and a place they hoped not to encounter termites or creepy lodgers.
One bed, again. All they had as a vacancy.
After Adam’s question about if she’d thought about him over the years he’d been gone…
One bed. No flimsy chair for him to retreat to in this room either.
Instead of dwelling on why he’d asked her if she’d kept him in her thoughts, she was glad he took her answer for what it was worth and didn’t press for more information. Fear of rejection held her back from asking him the same, though she wondered.
Is it still a one-way street? Her luck would dictate it as non-mutual affection. So she’d caught him checking her out. He probably had his sights on countless females.
They checked in, neither commenting on the sleeping arrangements, and sought a belated meal.
Seated across from him a half hour later, she surveyed the room in which they waited for their food. Only bikers, adorned with clinging, scantily clad women with enough cleavage to cause backaches, and—she scanned the place again—all beer-drinking rowdy customers, save herself, consisted of the clientele.
Maybe we shouldn’t have waited so long to stop to eat.
If a bar brawl erupted in the next minute, she wouldn’t have been surprised.
“You all right with this place?” Adam asked. He must have caught her eyeing the bar.
“Sure. I’m starved.”
Distracted from pondering Adam’s early inquiry, she replayed his other comments in her mind. Was she presumptuous to think she could gain a chance to speak to Edgar? If it was a dead-end, if the old bag of bones was going to slam the door in her face, or not even open it at all, this whole trip would have been nothing but a waste of gas and time away from Clare as she recovered.
She glanced at Adam as he watched a soccer game on the screen overhead, lounging in his side of the booth. Instantly she pictured herself snuggling at his side, running her hand over his chest to feel a hitch of his breath… Keep dreaming, Sam.
But no. Not a waste. She’d reconnected with Adam. That would always be worth her time, no matter how short. And catching up with him felt like the cure-all she’d needed to face her past and fears.
Concentrating again, she was solid in her hunch it was a game of some sorts. If Edgar really wanted to change the trust fund she’d dismissed so long ago, he could have just done it without ever telling her.
“So, what are we going to do about this?” Adam asked, shifting so he could lean over the bare tabletop.
Snapped from her worries, she leaned closer too. “About what?”
He flicked his finger back and forth in the space in front of them. “This thing between us.”
She glanced down. “The table?” She peeked at him, then at the navy-blue laminate, and then back at him. “I bet they’ll put our plates on it.”
A slight smile tugged at his lips. “You want me,” he said.
Her brows snapped down at the same time her mouth dropped open. “Cocky much?”
He said nothing, holding her gaze.
I cannot be that obvious. “I said I’d thought about you.” She shrugged. “I missed you. We were friends.”
So sorry to lack the ability to erase you from my life. Don’t lose sleep over it, big guy. I lost plenty of z’s over you to make up for us both.
“There’s no point denying it, Samantha.”
Sweet baby Jesus. Normally, she hated her full name, but when he all but crooned it in that husky tone…
“How do you know I— That I could want you?”
“Because I feel it too. We’ve always been compatible in a way—”
“As friends.”
His head tilted to the side. “Back then, sure. But now? Come
on, Sammy. You’re telling me you don’t feel this?”
This. Such an ambiguous summary. This, as in the way her heart stampeded beats when he stared at her so heatedly? This, as in how she was deficient of willpower not to admire his physique, was giddy at his damn charming smiles and roguish smirks?
Like now, as she met the challenge to answer his question straight in the eye, not faltering or blinking as she should have been melting under his smoldering gaze.
What were they going to do? How the hell should she know? She wasn’t stupid enough to deny her attraction to him, but she was beyond ignorant what to do about it. Seemed ignoring it wasn’t on the menu, according to him.
“What are you going to do about it?” she asked.
“Not a damn thing.” He leaned back, letting his long muscular arms remain extended, his fingertips drumming the tabletop.
Right. “Nothing?”
“If you were anyone else…” He sighed. “Any other girl, I’d say all the pretty words, flash a smile, and try to get in your pants as fast as I could.”
Sammy nodded, frowning. “And by ‘anyone else’, you mean…?”
“Just someone to fool around with. The women I’ve been with were fun, easy, and aware I wasn’t sticking around for long. I’m sure they forgot my name as quickly as I did theirs.”
She blinked. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?” He’d always been a charmer. His finesse with women shouldn’t have bothered her that much.
“Well, you’re not easy, I’ll never forget you, and I’ve known your name for years. What I’m saying is—if anything’s happening between us—the ball’s in your court, babe.”
Assuming he was so correct in his judgment of their attraction.
Who the hell am I kidding? She was oddly relieved he was laying it on the line so honestly. No beating around the bush for Adam. And even though he reclined with a relaxed demeanor, she could pick up on the excitement twinkling in his eyes.
But the ball in her court? How was that supposed to guide her? She couldn’t jump high enough to aim for the hoop. She had no warm-up to prepare, no playbook to rely on. He was waiting on her to make a move?
Probably, he was hesitant because she’d confided in him with her not-so-lovely past. Or because Jake might kick his ass for playing around with his sister.
Sammy scratched at her temple, trying not to fidget under his stare.
“I … I don’t know what to do. What to say.”
“So we’ll continue to avoid each other, figuratively? We reach Vermont, you drop me off, and hasta la vista?”
God no, she couldn’t imagine it. How could she? Teased and tormented at being within his reach… To never experience anything more with him, she’d only fuel her fantasies of him even more.
Breaking eye contact, she finally squirmed, looking everywhere but him.
It was too fast to compute. She’d gone from layering herself in too-hot clothes, toting Mace everywhere, talking herself out of panic attacks whenever a man seemed to check her out—to sporting comfortable, breathable garments showing some skin, laughing, talking, and goofing off with a guy, daring to imagine something further.
“No,” she said, finally raising her face to him. “But I don’t know what to do. How to do anything.”
“But you want to act on this?”
She couldn’t speak it, nodding instead. “Acting on attraction has been the furthest thing on my mind. After that night at the party, I holed up. I hid inside. Never would have even thought about embracing on any kind of … desire.” Waving a hand at him, she grimaced. “I never would have imagined myself in this position because I’ve made it my strict M.O. to repel men. But it doesn’t mean I’m dead inside. I’ve always liked you. I had a crush on you back then. You knew it. And even though I’m slowly getting back on my feet now, making a living, finishing school, I still haven’t contemplated entering any kind of a relationship. But I know I don’t want to end up some sixty-year-old virgin.”
“Excuse me?” He choked on his beer.
She waited for him to swallow properly.
“How exactly would you be a—”
“Because I haven’t had sex.”
“But that asshole, at the frat party…?”
Sammy licked her lips, queasy at having to explain. “It’s not… Here’s what happened.” She took a deep breath, gearing up to ramble it all out as quickly as possible. “I went to a frat party with someone from my Econ class. I’d never gone out, studying all the time, and I thought, why not. One night. One party. Just to be a normal college kid. So I went. I had a couple beers, and those turned in to too many. A couple shots. Some kind of mixed drink.” She paused to shake her head. “I’d eaten at a Mexican place before, but I grossly underestimated how much of a lightweight I was.”
“Drunk?”
“Wasted. Shit-faced. I didn’t even think about timing myself, or getting water. I was chatting with my Econ buddy, honestly having a good night. I’d never drank before.”
“Did someone drug you?”
“Can’t see how. I never set any drinks down, and I was right there when I got my beverages from the bar room. Anyway, some guy started talking to me. I figured I was there for two hours, and had about eight drinks.”
“Awful lot for a lightweight.”
“Now I know that.” She sighed. “So he was talking to me, really nice, but too touchy-feely, like he had his hand on my elbow, his arm around my shoulders. When he’d forgotten my personal space, I realized, as much as I could have, that I was drunk. Dizzy, nauseous, everything was spinning. I started to panic.”
She took a sip of water before continuing, the memories of those suppressed out-of-control emotions still ugly in her mind. “He said it looked like I needed some fresh air. Perfect, I thought. The music was too loud, it was too crowded. So I followed him, or he followed me since he propelled me out the door. He took me to a corner between some buildings outside. I saw a bench, but he pulled me to follow him. I told him I wanted to sit down, anything to make the spinning stop, but he told me to hang on a sec.”
Adam’s lips had set into a firm line, his nostrils flaring with his breaths. Like a bull, maybe, enraged at the matador’s red flag.
“Next thing I know, I’m standing against some wall, kinda leaning to my side, my arm on a plastic thing. Garbage can lid, it turned out. He ripped my shirt open, and I’m suddenly flashing the world. He kissed my neck. It felt like a guppy, a snail attaching to an aquarium.” She winced. “Then he… Then he pulled my jeans and panties down—”
“Fuck. Sammy, I need something stronger than a damn beer to hear this.”
She held her hand up to silence him, determined to get it all out. “My arm was on the plastic. It had rained earlier that day, and it was still wet. I remember the cold-soaked sleeve dangling on my arm, shocking me. My exposed skin, it sobered me up too, like snapping me out of it. But I was still so dizzy. He was way stronger and bigger than me, pushing me against the wall and garbage can top. I panicked even more. I was confused. I couldn’t get the world to stop spinning. When I heard his zipper, I wanted to scream, but I was barely with it.” On a shaky breath, she shot her hand out for his. “Hold my hand, huh?”
He took it immediately and cradled it between both of his, his solid touch an anchor for her to spill the rest of the story.
“He leaned closer and I told him no. Just when he reached down, I…”
Adam gripped her hand tighter, caressing her knuckles.
“I… Look.” She straightened a bit in her seat. “I realize this is not the right time or place or anything, so not a cool convo with our food coming and all that, but I puked. I was terrified what was happening. I was severely intoxicated for the first time in my life. And I just couldn’t stomach it. I threw up, all over him, me. It must have got him in the eye because I remember him screaming that something burned, probably the acid in his eye. Reese said he had puke all over his face when she’d seen him stumbling back to
the party. He shoved away, swearing at me, and I dropped to the ground, kept on vomiting all over. Tacos, burritos, beer, shots. I got it all out.”
Adam stared at her, his mouth parted slightly, his forehead crinkled.
“Next thing I knew, someone held my hair back as I finished throwing up. A sweatshirt over my back and bare ass. Reese had been walking by and heard some guy storming away, yelling about a bitch ruining his night. She found me there, helped me up, and walked me to my dorm. My damsel in shining armor.”
Screwing her eyes shut for a second, she stalled facing Adam. “Say something. Please.”
“Thank fuck.” He laughed a couple hoarse sounds that sounded like gasps for air.
She opened her eyes. “That I’m not damaged goods after all?” Sammy slowly tried to pull her hand away, but he held on. “I know I’m lucky. I’ve heard of so many horror stories. Women abused over and over. Raped. Mutilated. Sodomized. Sold as sex slaves. Gangbanged. I know I’m very fortunate I, well, I unconsciously saved myself. I didn’t intend to dupe you into thinking I was some victim.”
“You were a victim. He assaulted you.”
“It could have been worse.”
“Thank God it wasn’t. That was bad enough. You’d never be damaged goods, Sammy.”
“Beg to differ. It ruined a part of me inside. Even if he couldn’t finish what he intended, he destroyed my hopes of simply being a normal student, an ordinary woman with her self-esteem intact.”
Their plates came. Saved by the grub.
Before picking up her sandwich, she tried to morph the tone to something less morbid. Something for the future, not an ugly reminder of her past.
“That was why I hid under layers. The reason for all the Mace. The deer-in-the-headlights look.”
“Don’t make excuses, Sammy. No one can judge you—I sure as hell won’t—for what that fucker did, and almost did.” He squeezed her hand a final time before she pulled it away.
“Just explaining, Adam.” She flashed her hands at herself. “Since I picked you up in Vegas… Look at me. I’m not buried under a disguise anymore. I got in a hot tub. In my bathing suit. This is huge for me. You’re helping me, I don’t know. Heal.”
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