by J. S. Scott
I picked out more vegetables, then handed them off to Xander.
“I’m starting to feel like your pack mule,” he joked.
“At least you’re making yourself useful. If I have to cook, you get to carry the stuff.” I didn’t have much choice but to cook. Xander was trying, but most of his dishes came out inedible. He still needed a lot more practice because he was far too impatient to be turning out anything edible.
“Don’t even try to pay for that,” he growled as I fumbled with my purse.
“I can pay for a few vegetables, Xander,” I answered in an exasperated voice. He hadn’t let me pay for anything, and he was pretty loaded with bags of produce and fruits.
“Don’t do it,” he warned. “Reach into my front pocket.”
He was rearranging the bags so he could carry them easier.
Unable to resist messing with him, I did shove my hand into the pocket of his jeans, trying to cop a feel as I pretended to search for money.
“You’re playing with fire, little girl,” he cautioned.
I shot him a sweet, innocent smile. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just doing what you told me to do.”
My fingers explored and I stretched them, grazing the side of one very hard cock. “Oh, my,” I said playfully. “You have a little problem.”
“Now it’s a big problem,” he grumbled. “Unless you want me to drop these packages and drag you behind one of these trucks or trailers so I can fuck you until you scream, I’d behave yourself.”
God, I was so very tempted, but the place was crowded, so I reluctantly pulled my hand out of his pocket.
“Here, sir. Let me help you,” the kindly, elderly vegetable seller insisted as he moved to Xander’s side with a ginormous bag and let Xander lower all his bags into one very large one with handles.
“Thanks,” Xander said. “I’m grateful.” He quickly reached into his pocket and handed the man a bill. “Keep the change.”
The older man beamed at him. “Thank you, sir. Have a nice day.”
Xander nodded. “You too.”
We wandered away, and Xander pulled me against his side now that he had a free arm. “I guess you didn’t want to get fucked at the farmers’ market,” he said, sounding amused.
I shook my head. “I’d prefer to keep things private.”
“Yeah. Can’t say I blame you. You’re pretty loud.”
I pushed at him playfully. “I am not loud.”
He looked down at me, but I couldn’t really see his eyes behind his glasses. “You’re kidding, right? Sometimes I’m pretty sure Micah and Julian can hear you from their houses.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to be silent,” I told him.
“Oh, hell, no. Baby, there’s nothing better than hearing you scream my name while you’re coming so hard that you can’t think about anything except me fucking you.”
His words brought up an image that wasn’t comfortable in the middle of a crowd. “Stop,” I insisted.
“Why? Am I bothering you?”
Dammit! He knew he was getting to me. “Of course not.”
“Liar,” he said as he leaned down close to my ear. “You’re just as ready as I am right now.”
He was right. My body betrayed me every single time Xander started talking dirty to me.
I would have shot him a smartass answer, but I spotted exactly what I’d come here to get. “Look. There.” I pointed to a spot a few vendors away.
We made a beeline for the blueberries, but we stopped as we came face-to-face with Julian and Kristin.
I smirked as I saw that Julian was carrying around a bunch of bags while Kristin shopped.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” Julian said in greeting. “And where in the hell did you get that big bag? I need one.”
Xander motioned his head behind him. “A few stands back.”
“Show me,” a disgruntled Julian insisted. “I’m starting to feel like a pack mule.”
I laughed and Xander grinned at me as he replied, “I just said the same thing.”
I watched Xander turn around, Julian right behind him as they went in search of another large shopping bag.
“How are you, Samantha? It’s good to see you,” Kristin said warmly.
“Good. Just trying to get out for a while. You?”
“I try to get here as often as possible. The produce is so fresh, and there are usually new vendors here every week.”
Kristin was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a lightweight shirt. She smiled in such a welcoming sort of way that she put me completely at ease. “I was looking for fresh Maine wild blueberries. I wanted to try a cake, but unfortunately, I don’t have the recipe.”
“I have one,” Kristin said excitedly, making her flame-red ponytail bounce. “I found a bunch of old recipes when Julian and I were looking through his pictures. It was his mom’s. She must have been an amazing cook. She collected a lot of recipes over the years.”
“I’d love to try it,” I told her enthusiastically.
“I’ll scan it and email it to you,” she offered.
“Thanks,” I said gratefully. “Now I can pick up berries.” I paused before I added, “Xander never mentioned that his mother made it when I talked about making a wild-blueberry cake.”
“I’m not sure she ever got a chance. It was in an old church cookbook with a placeholder. Maybe she was planning on doing it, but never got around to it.”
I nodded. “I’d like to give it a go, anyway. Old church cookbooks have some of the best recipes.”
There was silence for a moment before Kristin said, “Xander looks good. Really good.”
I glanced over to the stand where I knew Xander could find what Julian wanted, and saw him visiting with his brother, each man now holding a single large shopping bag.
“He’s doing really well. He’s in counseling, and he’s been getting out a lot more.”
Kristin nodded. “I heard. Julian told me. Is he coming to New York when Tessa gets her implants activated?”
“When?”
“Next week, Friday,” she answered. “He doesn’t have to. I just wanted you to know in case you wanted to be there. The doctor is pretty certain Tessa will be able to hear.”
“I think that’s an event he wouldn’t want to miss.”
“I hope you come, too,” Kristin said sincerely.
I smiled at her. “I’ll have to ask him. But I’d love to be there. It’s one of those happy moments that I think everybody wants to share.”
Kristin grimaced. “Micah is afraid they won’t work, or something will happen. Tessa had them before and they got infected. They had to be removed.”
My heart sank. “Poor thing. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have her hearing back, then lose it again.”
“She’s tough. She’ll be okay.”
“It’s highly unlikely such an unusual event would happen again,” I mused.
“Tell Micah that. He’s a nervous wreck.”
“I can imagine.”
“I think you should make that cake and come and join us for a barbecue tomorrow,” Kristin suggested.
“I’d love that. I think Xander would, too. No promises on the cake, though, since it’s my first attempt.”
Kristin laughed. “I kind of miss baking and cooking. I did it a lot when I worked at my father’s bar.”
We slowly made our way to the blueberry stand, and I placed my order. “You don’t do it anymore?”
“Not often. Julian has learned to make simple stuff, and since he works at home now, he cooks when I’m working at the doctor’s office. I do cook on the days that I’m off.”
“You still work?” I asked in surprise.
“Yeah. Just not as much. I love what I do. And Sarah is pregnant, so the hours are easy. She’s only working part-time.”
“Xander’s cousin?” I guessed, remembering that he’d mentioned that Sarah was the doctor in his family.
“His cousin Dante’s w
ife,” Kristin confirmed.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a bill to cover the berries, then handed it over to the vendor, waving at her to keep the change as I took my bag of blueberries.
“Is it weird?” I asked curiously. “I mean, being married to a guy with so much money.”
I hadn’t met the Sinclair cousins, but I knew that all of the Sinclair men had married local women, none of whom had come from money.
Kristin smiled. “Sometimes. If I wanted, I’d never have to work again. But other than the fact that we never have to count pennies, it’s not so different. I married Julian because I loved him. Believe me, it wasn’t something I had in my future plans. But he changed everything for me, and I love the life we have together.”
“I can’t say I’m totally comfortable with Xander’s wealth. I grew up in a middle-class family, and I went to school on scholarships and loans,” I confessed.
Kristin shrugged. “You get used to it. It’s just part of who they are . . . a very small portion. All of the Sinclair men are good guys who just happen to be worth a fortune. There’s so much more to all of them than just money.”
I thought about her words, knowing they were true. I didn’t care about Xander because of his money. It was a million different small things that made me love him. “I know,” I admitted. “It just feels weird to ride in a convertible Ferrari or a private jet with anybody.”
Kristin nodded. “I get it. I felt the same way. I didn’t grow up wealthy, either, and money was tight. But you really will get used to it. One good thing about having a husband with money now is that I never take it for granted.” She hesitated before adding, “I don’t think you will, either.”
I rushed to assure her, “It’s not like Xander and I are getting married or anything. I mean . . . we’re not really together.”
Kristin smiled at me knowingly. “Tell Xander that. He looks at you like you’re his somebody special, Samantha.”
“I’m not,” I said uncomfortably.
“You love him,” Kristin guessed. “And I’m glad, because I’m pretty certain he’d be devastated if you didn’t.”
I nodded, unwilling to lie to her. “I do. But Xander needs to take small steps. What he feels, wants, or needs could very well change as he progresses.”
The pretty redhead burst out laughing. As she recovered, she snorted before she answered, “No Sinclair male does anything cautiously . . . Xander included.”
Right then, the guys wandered over to join us, and our private talk was over.
“Talking about us?” Julian asked arrogantly.
“You wish,” Kristin shot back at her hubby.
“Kristin wants to know if we can do dinner with them tomorrow,” I informed Xander.
“Sam is going to bring cake,” Kristin said happily.
“Then come on over,” Julian offered.
“Stay away from the cake,” Xander warned.
Julian shook his head. “I’ll be all over it.”
We all talked at once, finally straightening out a time to eat the next day.
We parted with smiles and laughter, and my heart was lighter than it had been in a long time after seeing Xander and Julian looking like and acting like brothers.
“You have a great family,” I said earnestly to Xander as Kristin and Julian wandered away.
“I know,” Xander agreed. “Even though they can be a giant pain in the ass sometimes. And you still haven’t met all of my cousins.”
There was a fondness in his voice that belied his words. He loved his brothers; he just wasn’t always certain how to express it. I had no doubt he cared for all of the rest of the Sinclair cousins as well.
We moved on, Xander’s arm around my waist as we made our way back to the car.
“I’d like to meet your cousins,” I told him honestly.
“So much has happened with them,” he said remorsefully. “Two of them are expecting their first child. And I barely know their wives. I’ve missed a lot.”
“Don’t you think they’ll all be at the domestic-abuse fund-raising event?” I asked curiously.
“Yeah. They’re all involved in that charity.”
I nodded. “Good. Then you’ll get to see them, and I’ll meet them.”
“They’re all a bunch of dickheads,” he answered jokingly. “I have no idea how they ended up married to a bunch of such great women.”
I laughed, knowing that if Xander was insulting his cousins, he definitely cared.
CHAPTER 27
SAMANTHA
I was writing on my computer the next day when I heard the distant sound of music. I’d just finished relating my own experiences in my book, and I was happy to have that part of it finished. I’d had a couple of nightmares while I’d been reliving that horrible time in my life, and I was glad to get on with more about the recovery process.
I stopped tapping on my keyboard from my position on the family-room sofa for a moment, listening.
Drawn by the familiar sound of Xander’s voice, I set my computer aside and moved toward his studio. It was soundproof, so I was assuming he hadn’t closed the door.
With every step, the music grew louder, and as I halted just short of the door to the studio, my heart stuttered at the sound of his soulful voice.
One of the things I’d always loved about Xander’s songs was that you could feel his music. The emotion I could sense in my soul when he sang had never failed to move me like no other artist ever had.
It was no different now.
The song was unknown, something I’d never heard before.
But, God, that voice . . . was extraordinary.
He was playing an acoustic guitar, and it was just him and the subtle sound of the strings as he sang from his heart.
His music sounded different, yet the voice was still the same.
I recognized it, yet I didn’t.
There were no heavy sounds of his backup band, no other instrument except his guitar.
It was Xander like I’d never heard him before.
The emotional ballad floated through the air, surrounding me as I got caught up into his music.
I was hanging on to the end of the world.
Fighting to hold on.
Close to the point where I didn’t care if I came unfurled.
I was nearly gone.
But then there was you to pull me from the edge.
I’m not sure why you cared.
Maybe it’s because a long time ago you were on the very same ledge.
His tone was deep and beautiful, and cracking with emotion.
Tears flowed down my cheeks and I closed my eyes against the happiness and sorrow that coursed through my body at equal levels.
I was torn up to hear his voice again, his music. I knew the song was coming from his heart.
What killed me were the lyrics, and knowing how much pain he’d had to endure to get to the point where he was actually singing again.
He went into a chorus that was just as raw and emotional before he trailed off and stopped.
I stumbled as I rushed to get into the room through the open door. “That was amazing,” I told him breathlessly.
He frowned. “Are you crying?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It was a beautiful song,” I answered simply. “You did it. You found your music.”
He sat his guitar down, stood up, and opened his arms. I didn’t hesitate to throw myself into the available space.
“The song needs work, and it’s not the same,” he said as he held me tightly against his hard body. “Maybe that was why I was struggling so hard. I’m not the same guy I used to be, and my music has to be different, too.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I told him tearfully. “People change. Obviously your music is going to evolve when you do.”
“It’s kind of depressing,” he contemplated.
“No, it’s not. And it won’t always be. Maybe you need to tell your story. There�
�s nothing wrong with that.”
“Jesus, I love your optimism,” he said in a bemused tone.
I put my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “That’s a new song. I’ve never heard it before.”
“It’s about you,” he answered simply. “I don’t have it all worked out. It’s a work in progress. I think I’m going to be writing new songs. The old ones don’t work for me anymore. It’s not where I am right now.”
Xander had always written songs that meant something. His tunes about his struggles and triumphs that he’d sung years ago had touched me back then, and I’d always love them. But I knew I was going to relate to his new style, too.
All of them were Xander.
And I adored every part of him, even the damaged ones.
“I think you’re brilliant,” I informed him.
“And I think you’re delusional,” he said in a humorous tone. “But I kind of like that about you.”
I laughed out loud, my heart feeling lighter now that Xander was singing again. I didn’t give a damn what he sang about. I just wanted him to be connected with something that I knew was an important part of him.
“I’m a psychologist. I’d know if I was delusional,” I answered in a smartass tone.
He pulled back so he could see my face. “Delusional people don’t know they’re delusional.”
I swatted him on the bicep. “I’m not delusional just because I think you’re brilliant,” I admonished.
He grinned at me, a happy expression that made my heart flip-flop. “Okay. I’m good with letting you stay in your own reality. Who am I to tell you I’m anything but the greatest guy you’ll ever meet?”
I smiled back at his audacity. I felt like I was seeing a little part of Xander that had survived his past. Julian had told me that Xander used to be nice, but that he was also a wiseass. That part of him obviously hadn’t gone away.
“I’m knocking off work for the day,” I declared. “I’m finished with my own history, thank God. That was the hardest part. I think I’ll try making that blueberry cake. Kristin sent me the recipe.”
“Hey.” Xander caught me around the waist as I turned to go into the kitchen. “Are you okay with writing all that?”
I put my hands on his shoulders as I looked at him. “I think so. I mean, it’s been difficult. I’ve had a couple of bad dreams while I’ve been writing about it—”