by Elise Faber
Sam nodded, kissed the top of her head. “Insightful.”
She turned so her lips could smack against his shoulder. “Way too patient.”
The half of his mouth that she could see curved up.
Haley felt her own lips curl into a smile. Her heart was buoyant, anticipation and hope in her blood. This—Sam—was the start of something really, really good.
She just knew it.
“Come on, hop-a-long,” Sam teased her as she crutched her way to his SUV the next evening.
He’d driven her home the previous night, depositing her onto her porch with a, “Go to dinner with me tomorrow?”
As if she could say no to that.
But she had demanded one thing before she’d agreed.
“Only if you give me your number.”
He’d tilted his head, tapped a finger to his chin. “Hmm. I’m not sure—”
“Sam!”
He’d tugged her into his arms and stolen a laughing kiss, and pretty soon she was laughing, too, especially when they broke apart and he held up a hand with a magician-like flourish, her cell resting in his palm.
A few taps later, and he’d input his number.
“M’lady,” he quipped, presenting it to her with another flourish, albeit a knightly one this time.
She’d taken it, carefully stashed it into her pocket. “You’re a dork.”
He’d bowed, pressed another smiling kiss to her mouth. “I’ll double check my appointments tomorrow, but seven maybe?”
She’d nodded, and he’d clumped down the steps, yanked open his SUV’s dented driver’s side door but not getting in until she’d pushed through her own door and had shut it. Only then did he buckle up and drive away.
Haley knew. She’d watched.
It had been pretty much her best front door goodbye ever . . . okay, it was her best good night, no qualifier, just her and Sam being dorks, giggling and smiling and—
A hand cupped her cheek. “Are you feeling okay?” Sam asked. “We don’t have to go anywhere, I can cook—”
This man.
She placed her hand over his, and because she was on crutches and he was so much taller than her and she only had one good foot to stand on tiptoe, she said, “Get down here and kiss me.”
Sam didn’t hesitate, just bent and slanted his mouth across hers. And as things seemed to happen with this particular man, their kiss quickly escalated from sweet and soft to scorching and intense. Her crutches fell to the ground, but Sam had her, hitching his arm around her waist and lifting her so she was sitting on the hood of the SUV and he was standing between her spread thighs.
Now that was something she could get behind.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said.
“I—”
He kissed her again, slipping his tongue into her mouth to tangle with hers, angling her head so their mouths fit together just right. It was . . . fucking incredible.
So much so that when they finally pulled back gasping for air—or rather when she ripped her lips away, puffing like a locomotive while Sam trailed his mouth along the line of her jaw to nip at her earlobe then kissed the spot just beneath it that never failed to make her shiver—she said, “Maybe we should forget dinner and—”
A wicked smile curved Sam’s lips and he kissed her again, scooped her into his arms.
Thank God, because if the man didn’t get inside her in the next five seconds, she was—
Going to find herself in the passenger seat of Sam’s SUV.
“Uh—”
Another press of his lips. A click as he snapped her seat belt in place. Then his lips were on hers again, moving in a rhythm that had her arching up against him, desperate now to have him close.
This time he pulled back with a curse. “You’re dangerous to my health, woman.” A glare, but a teasing one that quickly became laced with tenderness, his hazel eyes warming. “I like you, sweetheart. A lot. And I think you kinda, sorta like me”—she snorted—“so, let’s do this right.”
Twenty
Sam
* * *
Sam held the door open to the diner as Haley wheeled herself through. He’d stashed her scooter in the back of his car because he knew just crutching down her gravel driveway was already tough enough. She might as well use the scooter whenever the opportunity presented itself.
The diner was busy, a half-dozen groups waiting in the lobby for tables. But such was Saturday night in Darlington. Henry’s Place was the place to go for the best food in town and also hub central for town gossip.
So, him bringing Haley to the diner was sending a message to every person in Darlington.
She was important to him. They were serious.
Yes, it was too early for that particular train of thought, but he was having it anyway.
He wanted Haley and not just to see how things went or to investigate the possibility of what might be. She was . . . home. Or at least, Sam never felt more himself than when he was with her.
Hence, dinner at Henry’s Place.
Sam waved at the hostess, Kara, who in turn lifted both hands to indicate they’d be waiting about ten minutes. He shot her a thumbs up then turned back to Haley.
“Stitches still coming out tomorrow?” He gently untangled a strand of her ponytail that had tucked itself under the bandage on her forehead.
She smiled up at him. “You tired of the Frankenstein look?”
A gentle kiss to the corner of the bandage. “You make stitches hot.”
“Bitches got stitches?” She snorted. “Is that the new fashion trend?”
“I must have missed that in my latest issue of Cosmopolitan.”
Haley wheeled herself a little closer, her breasts brushing against his chest. Sam bent, eyes on her mouth, suddenly wishing they were back in her driveway and he hadn’t insisted on this date.
Why had he insisted on this date?
She licked her lips.
He leaned down and—
Click.
Sam blinked, glanced away from the dangerous distraction that was Haley, and saw that Esther had her phone pointed in their direction.
“Dammit,” she muttered. “I could have sworn I’d turned that camera sound off.” Her eyes shot to his, and she held up a very expensive, top of the line cell. “New phone,” she said, flashing him a smile that was less chagrined and more satisfied.
“Esther!” Haley said, glancing between the older woman and Sam. “You were not taking pictures of us.”
“Haley, girl,” Esther said. “I’m glad to see you and Sam worked things out. How are you feeling?”
Haley crossed her arms. “Nice try, missy. That had better not be going on your Facebook page,” Haley said.
“Of course not.” Sam’s shoulders relaxed. “It’s going on my Instagram. Facebook is for old people.” His eyes met Haley’s, the obvious comment on the tip of his tongue. Esther was old, almost ancient.
She shook her head, lifted her lips to his ear. “She may be a million years old, but she’s also way cooler than us.”
“I heard that!” Esther said. “I—”
“Can’t hear me saying that in your hurry to document these two, you forgot your to-go box?” Henry walked into the waiting area and handed Esther a container. “No?” he said, mouth twitching when she didn’t respond. “Hmm. Funny how that works.”
Esther narrowed her eyes. “Just because you make a good sandwich doesn’t mean that you can be smart with me, young man.”
“I love you, too, Esther,” Henry said, kissing her cheek and pointing to an unoccupied table for two in the corner of the diner. “Kelly’s booth”—Kel and Henry had been best friends since grade school and one of the perks of that was a permanent table with her name on it in the restaurant—“is open, jump on in there.”
Sam thanked him and indicated for Haley to go ahead of him, but before they could move too far they heard Esther ask, “Are you dating anyone right now, Henry?”
Henry choked
.
Haley snorted.
Sam grinned.
Because they all knew what was coming next.
“I know just the perfect girl . . .”
“Run,” Haley whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “Before Esther turns her evil genius attention back to us.”
Sam mimed a heroic push of Haley’s scooter. “Save yourself!” he hissed and followed her as she giggled her way to the table.
“Henry’s going to kill us,” she said once they’d sat down.
Sam glanced over his shoulder, saw that Henry was still cornered by Esther, who was now showing him something on her phone. Probably pictures of that perfect girl she had for him.
“Meh,” he said, shrugging. “It’s about time he had a turn. Henry needs a girl.”
“Or a guy,” Haley added.
“Or a guy,” Sam agreed. “And we both know that Esther will find him that right person.”
“Agreed.” She unfolded her napkin, plunked it into her lap. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think she’d coerced those deer into jumping in front of our cars.” A pause. “Oh! I’ve been meaning to ask you, what about your car? When are you going to get that door fixed?”
The waitress, Tilly, came over with glasses of water, setting them on the table in front of them. “I’ll be back in just a second to get your orders,” she said and hurried off to another booth.
He winced when Haley looked at him expectantly.
She wouldn’t like what he was about to tell her, and she’d definitely feel guilty about it.
“I’m actually thinking about dealing with it. I’m due for a new car anyway.”
“What?” she asked. “Your SUV is practically brand new.”
It was. He’d splurged for a new one, complete with heated seats and remote start because those early mornings driving out to the ranches were cold as fuck and because he worked hard for his money, dammit, so he could have one nice, frivolous thing.
A shrug.
“Sam—”
Tilly popped back over, and they spent the next few minutes ordering food. Once she’d gone again, Haley fixed him with a look. “Spill.”
“Don’t feel bad,” he began, “because I believe we’ve already established that I was the one at fault—”
“Oh Lord. Do not tell me that my inept blasting of Backstreet Boys totaled your car.”
“Okay,” he said. “I won’t tell you that.” He took a sip of water.
“Sam!”
“It was the deer’s fault, remember?”
Haley wrinkled her nose. “Oh my God. I—shit. I’m so sorry—”
She was so fucking gorgeous and sweet and . . . he really wanted to kiss her.
So, he did.
He leaned right across the table and cut off her stammering with his lips. It was only supposed to be a moment of brief contact, a brush of two mouths, but then Haley wrapped a hand around his nape and pulled him back down.
The diner faded, the other patrons, the table’s edge that was digging into his stomach disappeared.
It was just him and Haley and—
A whoop made them both jump.
Cheeks flushing, she retreated, groaning and putting her hands over her face. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Get it, girl!”
Esther.
They both looked at each other and shook their heads.
But they were smiling.
And before they’d eaten their meal, all of Darlington knew that Sam Johnson and Haley Donovan were back to being an item.
Small town life at its finest.
Twenty-One
Haley
* * *
“So, do you think that purple or pink goes best with my cast?” Haley asked Melissa.
“You can’t wear a T-shirt on a date,” Melissa said.
“Why not?”
Slender arms crossed. “Do you or do you not want to sleep with this man as soon as possible?”
“Uh, that’s a definite yes.”
“Good,” Melissa said. “Then no T-shirts.” She began to rifle through Haley’s closet.
“Sam likes my T-shirts,” Haley argued.
“Yes. I’m sure he likes whatever you wear. The man is absolutely crazy about you.” Melissa pulled out a dress, considered it, then tucked it back away. “The point is that you’ve got a stubborn man who’s trying to be honorable, and he thinks that means giving you more time to get used to the idea of you two dating.”
“I don’t want more time,” Haley muttered.
Melissa pointed her finger toward the ceiling. “Exactly.”
Haley wasn’t exactly sure what that exactly meant, but her friend had thrown her a bone in the best possible way by bringing her both food and a break from the boredom that was surrounding her.
Three weeks since the accident.
One more before the hospital would allow her back for desk duty.
Three more till the fucking cast came off.
Ugh.
Okay, so maybe that ugh was less from missing work and more from missing Sam.
She’d only seen him three times in the last week. Once during their date the previous Sunday—after which he’d dropped her on her porch with a scorching kiss that had fueled more than satisfied—then briefly on Monday when they’d devoured the pizza he’d brought them for dinner before he’d been called to an emergency at the clinic. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, he’d been a few towns over, assisting a neighboring vet with vaccinations and deworming for cattle on a slew of ranches. Friday and Saturday, the other vet had returned the favor for the Darlington ranches.
He’d come by the previous evening, but after a single glance, Haley had sent him home.
Exhaustion had pulled at the contours of his face, his skin was pale and waxy, and the dark circles under his eyes were no joke.
So, home to sleep.
And she’d spent another evening on the couch entertaining herself.
Which sounded dirty, but unfortunately for her wasn’t. On a side note, and why she’d begged for Melissa’s expertise that evening, was that Haley was definitely ready for dirty.
Desperate for it really.
Sam had texted earlier, asking her to dinner again—not that she’d ever tell the man no. She loved spending time with him and also she had a plan.
And that plan did not involve Henry’s Place on a busy Sunday night.
That plan involved getting busy on a Sunday night.
Wow.
She shook her head at herself.
Clearly, she’d been alone too much because those puns were bad.
“What are you grinning about? Wait, I don’t think I want to know. What about this?” Melissa held up a black dress from the back of Haley’s closet.
Haley could have kissed her. “That’s perfect! Miss, you’re awesome.”
“Yeah, that I know,” Melissa said and searched through the huge duffle bag she’d brought with her. In no time at all, she had Haley stylized to perfection. “Your feet are bigger than mine. But these”—she pulled out a pair of clunky heels from the closet—“will work perfectly. Or the left one will anyway,” she teased.
“Hilarious,” Haley said, but she hugged Melissa anyway. “Thank you.”
“Aw, young love,” Melissa crooned.
“Ha. As if you and Rob have room to talk,” she accused. “The two of you are so lovely-dovey it’s almost puke-worthy.”
Melissa sat down on the edge of the bed. “That took a lot of work, Haley Bear.”
She lifted her brows. “Really?”
“It’s a cute nickname.”
“It’s—” Haley shrugged. “Okay, it could be worse. But . . . things really are okay with you and Rob, right?”
Melissa flopped back onto Haley’s bed, careful to not jostle the outfit she’d painstakingly put together. “I can honestly say that the last year has been the most difficult of our marriage. I felt betrayed by Rob—and not just because of the rumors, but also because h
e didn’t trust me enough to tell me what was going on in his head.” She sighed. “But I also took on and then internalized so much. I was resentful, lonely, sad, and it wasn’t all from our marriage, my childhood played a big role as well. Of course, I didn’t think I needed to tell him that I was struggling. I thought he should just know.” She huffed out a laugh. “Which is why we clearly needed therapy.”
“But it helped,” Haley said, lying down next to her.
“Ohh yeah. If only to just get us back on track. My tendencies are to pull inward and distance everyone around me—” She broke off. “Look at me going on and on. We’re fine. Yes, we’re a work in progress, but I can honestly say I’m happier now with Rob than I ever have been.”
Haley leaned her head on Melissa’s shoulder. “I’m so happy for you guys.” She hesitated then decided that since Melissa had shared so much, she could bare her heart a little bit, too. “Also, I hear you. About the distancing stuff, I mean. Sometimes it’s safer to be in my own head and heart and to not let anyone else in.”
Miss rolled over and leaned up on one elbow. “But Sam is different.”
“So different. God, I was so painfully awkward with him when I was younger, but now it’s like so . . . so easy almost. He gets me, and for the first time ever, I’m seriously ready to jump and he wants to take it slow.” Haley groaned. “And I know that’s the responsible adult thing to do, but . . .”
“You don’t care.”
“I don’t care.” Haley thunked her head back. “Also, I’m horny.”
Melissa tugged at a strand of Haley’s hair. “Having dated a particularly stubborn and protective man myself, I can say that you’ve got the right plan in mind. Corner him, blow his socks off with those sexy legs. Oh, and skip the underwear, bend over, and flash a little—”
“Miss!”
Melissa cackled. “But I’m only half-kidding. The man wants you, half the town witnessed just how much in that kiss last week. He just needs a push.”
“In the form of no underwear under my dress.”
A shrug. “What can I say? It works.” She grinned. “Just promise me you won’t heat up the dinner I brought for you guys until after he’s seen the peep show.”