by Diana Gardin
“I promise.” He nodded.
She drove home without the music playing, something she never did. All she could think about was Sam’s face when he’d been bent over the bar.
She’d known. Somehow, she’d known that Ever didn’t deserve him. He’d been holding back from Aston, holding back the same feelings she harbored, because of his duty and his love for his girlfriend. And it was all for nothing. Because she’d been sleeping with his brother.
She’d laugh if it weren’t so screwed up.
She wasn’t sure where she and Sam could go from here. Sam didn’t want her with him tonight. She didn’t expect him to jump into her arms, but above all else they were friends. They’d finally gotten to a place where she could call him that. She wanted to help him through this pain.
When she arrived home she dressed for bed and was turning back the covers when a knock sounded on her bedroom door.
“Yeah?” she called.
“Aston? Can I come in?” Her mother’s tentative voice drifted through the door.
Aston sighed. Her mother was the last person she wanted to see right now.
She wiped the tearstains from her face and opened her bedroom door. She turned and walked back to her bed, sitting down.
The bedsprings squeaked when her mother sat down beside her.
“I heard you come in,” Lillian said. “Is everything okay?”
She studied Aston’s face, and Aston turned away.
“Everything’s fine,” Aston answered. “I’m just tired.”
“Reed told me you broke things off with Princeton. Is that true?”
Aston sighed and leaned back onto her mound of pillows. “Yeah, Mom. Princeton and I are done.”
Lillian studied her daughter carefully. They hadn’t been close for years, and they’d never been as close as Aston and Gregory. But she could still read her daughter like a book.
“That’s not what has you so upset tonight, though.”
“No.”
“Sometimes talking about things gives you perspective. You don’t always have to be so tough all the time.”
“Really, Mom? Because if I wasn’t the one being tough all the time, who else would be? You?”
Her mother stiffened. “I can see that you don’t want to talk right now. But I’m your mother, Aston. No matter what’s happened, I’m still your mom. Try to remember that as you’re hating me for the mistakes I’ve made. I’ve made my bed, I know that. But I’m trying. Your dad and Reed forgave me. You’re the only one holding a grudge.”
She left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Aston stared at her bedroom door for a moment. Then she rolled over, pulled a pillow over her head, and sobbed. She wept for Sam and the pain she knew he was in; she cried for her mother and the relationship they’d never have again.
When she woke the next morning with puffy eyes and a tangled mess of wavy hair, she went in search of Reed. She found him in the kitchen.
“How is he?” she asked her brother, getting straight to the point.
Reed glanced at her, chewing his toast thoughtfully. “He’s pissed. And hurt, too, but right now it’s mostly the pissed that’s coming out.”
“You got him home last night, right?” she asked.
“Yeah, A, of course I did. He’s probably still sleeping off the tequila.”
She took off for the front door.
“Whoa, Aston! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Reed stepped in front of her, holding his hands out in front of him to block her passing.
“I’m going to talk to him. He needs a friend.”
“And you really think you’re the best person to be that friend?” Reed assessed his sister, taking in her appearance. “You look like a hot mess yourself.”
“He needs me right now.”
“Now isn’t a good time to talk to him, A. Give him some space. Let him find you when he’s ready. He will be ready eventually. Just give him some time.”
She heaved a deep sigh. “You don’t think he’ll do anything stupid, do you?”
Reed was watching her closely. “Like what?”
“Like leave.”
“No. I think we’re all the guy’s got. He’s not going anywhere.”
Fourteen
Sam wished like hell he’d let his boss give him Monday off.
He sat at Gregory’s glossy mahogany desk in the office, limply typing the travel itinerary he’d been asked to complete while Gregory was off working in corporate headquarters this morning.
Sam felt like he’d been hit by a Mack truck, then run over twice by a train. He’d gotten drunker than he’d ever been on Saturday night, and then he’d spent Sunday sitting on the beach with Reed, Blaze, Tate, and Tamara. Aston was noticeably absent, and he knew it was because he’d asked her to leave him at the bar the previous night. He had mixed feelings about her empty spot, but he eventually decided it was for the best. He’d become closer to her than he’d ever expected to in his time on the island. He considered her a friend, and the way she made him feel physically was dangerous. After what had happened with Ever and Hunter, the intimacy he felt growing with Aston was something he couldn’t allow to take over. Anything that emotional had the power to hurt, and giving that power away again just wasn’t an option he could live with.
Sunday evening, Hunter had called the landline in the tack house several times. He knew it was Hunter because everyone here had his new cell phone number. He also knew that Ever was forcing Hunter to keep calling. Hunter would have known that Sam wasn’t ready to talk to them.
Sam didn’t know if he’d ever be ready to talk to them again. He’d never felt so turned upside down by emotions. His whole life, he’d had one purpose. Protect Ever. From her father, and then from the consequences of killing him.
When that purpose had been taken away, Sam wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now. So he was just living hour by hour.
He looked up when he heard the soft knock on the office doors and they creaked open.
“Tamara,” he said in surprise. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see you,” she answered, her dry smile strangely comforting. “I wanted to check on you. You hit it pretty hard this weekend. Not that anyone can blame you. Feeling okay today?”
Sam leaned back in the large leather chair and ran a hand over the recent scruff on his chin. “Do you mean physically or mentally?”
“Both.”
“I feel like shit,” he admitted.
Tamara shook her head sympathetically. “Then why are you working?”
“It’s a workday.” Sam shrugged. “The days of the week don’t stop because I got my heart broken.” He squinted, rubbing his forehead. “Or because I still have a hangover.”
Tamara knit her eyebrows together and frowned. Sam assumed she didn’t understand anything about coming to work when you didn’t exactly feel your best, because Tamara and Tate had never worked a day in their lives. They had gone straight from high school to college, and their parents never required them to work for spending money. They came from a wealthy family, just like everyone else Sam had met in Nelson Island.
“Well, what are you doing tonight?” Tamara asked. “Want to get together? You should probably keep busy, right? Get your mind off of…things?”
“Um, sure. We can hang out. Do you know where my place is?”
As Tamara nodded, Aston opened the French doors, and Sam was almost pushed backward in his chair by the sheer energy she carried with her whenever she entered a room.
As her eyes locked on his, he was finally able to see Aston Hopewell for the first time with a free heart. Now he knew exactly what he’d been missing, despite how much he wanted to ignore it. His heart clenched tightly in his chest, forcing the breath he was holding to come whooshing out of his lungs.
He closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself against the rush of emotion washing through his entire body. He couldn’t let himself feel this way abou
t…anyone. Not after what had happened. He’d given everything he had to Ever, and look what had happened. After Ever, he didn’t have anything left to give.
He glanced at Aston again, and her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth as she studied his expression. He found himself wondering if that lip felt as plump as it looked, and his body reacted. Immediately. And strongly.
“Yeah, Tamara,” he said in a clear voice. “We should definitely get together tonight. Come over to my place around eight.”
Aston stood just inside the door, her eyes roving between Sam and Tamara.
“Hi, Aston.” Tamara greeted her with a grin. “I’m guessing you and Sam have some work to do, so I’m gonna get out of y’all’s hair. I’m looking forward to tonight, Sam. It’ll be a good…distraction for you.”
She gave him a flirty little wave to go with her sexy little smirk, and brushed past Aston on her way out.
Sam shuffled papers on the desk vigorously as Aston entered and closed the doors behind her.
“Sam,” she said, quiet disbelief ringing through her voice. “Did I just hear you arrange a date with Tamara?”
He glanced up at her after he’d had a chance to slow his rapidly beating heartbeat.
“Nah,” he answered flippantly. “We’re just hanging out at my place.”
“Just the two of you?” Aston’s eyes flashed an angry ocean blue. “That’s what constitutes a date, Sam.”
“What can I do for you, Aston?” He made his voice bored, hoping she’d rush through whatever business he was sure she had to share with him. Her face, her voice, the way she rubbed her finger along her neck when she was thinking…these were all things he wanted desperately to avoid. He held his breath so her soft scent wouldn’t overwhelm him.
Her eyes narrowed. “Sam. I know you’re hurting. But we’re friends, right?”
“Yeah,” Sam answered. “We’re friends. So why are you grilling me about who I’m spending time with?”
Aston’s mouth dropped open. “I’m not grilling you, Sam. I’m just concerned. Do you really think you should be throwing yourself into dating someone like Tamara after what happened?”
His eyes hardened against her questioning. “What do you mean ‘someone like Tamara’? I can do what I damn well please, Aston. Did you have a reason to be in here right now? Do you have some accounting stuff to go over?”
“Nothing that can’t wait,” she shot back over her shoulder as she whirled around.
He flinched as she slammed the door behind her so hard the panes shook.
Then he sank back into the soft cushion of the chair and let out a shaking breath.
He sucked it right back into his lungs when Aston came sweeping back into the room.
“Work’s over for the day.” She stalked over to the desk and leaned forward, placing her palms against the shiny top.
The spicy sweetness overpowered him before he could protect himself, and his body swelled in response. “What?”
“Get your ass to the tack house and change, Waters. We’re getting out of here.”
His heartbeat took off again, pulling him out of his seat. She held up a hand.
“No questions. Just meet me out by my car in twenty. Think you can handle that?”
He nodded. Her demeanor when she was bossy was…appealing. He couldn’t say no to her.
“You going to tell me where we’re headed?” Sam glanced at Aston.
He’d been with Ever since they were teenagers, and he’d loved her. He’d thought she was beautiful and fragile and innocent, but he’d never thought of her as sexy. Aston, with her confidence and her take-charge attitude, the way she handled the BMW on the highway as she drove him to an unknown destination?
Sexy.
He fought against the thought. He was aware of how much he didn’t need the feelings forcing their way to the forefront of his mind.
“We’re almost there.” Her smile was reassuring, and he allowed himself to sit back in the seat and enjoy the ride.
They were on a part of the island he hadn’t yet visited. The homes were spread farther out, and the upscale feel of the rest of the island became more rural, more remote as they pulled over.
Aston hopped out, smoothing her hands over her cutoff jean shorts.
He wondered if she knew how much he liked it when she wore those shorts.
“Okay, Princess. What’s going on?”
“Check the trunk, Waters.” She took off toward the water. They were parked next to the entrance to a private beach, and beyond the sea grass and thin stretch of sand lay a long pier. There were boats dotting the shoreline in the distance, but the area was deserted otherwise.
He eyed her receding figure before he went around to the trunk and pulled it open.
Fishing poles.
Two fishing poles and a tackle box were sitting in Aston’s otherwise pristine trunk, looking so out of place and foreign that a laugh rumbled deep in his chest.
He glanced to where she’d retreated and found her standing on the pier, just staring out at the water.
His heart clenched. He reached for the spot, rubbing it beneath the tank he wore under his button-down. A warmth, starting in his chest, radiated outward until he was filled with it. The conversation they’d had while working together flashed into his mind.
“Hell,” he muttered. “She brought me fishing.”
The tackle box was stocked with bait and lures, and he busied himself readying both the rods while she dangled her bare feet in the water, staring out at the rippling sea.
When they were settled, his pant legs rolled up and a fishing pole in his hands, a tiny piece of his soul was restored.
Silence blanketed them as they sat side by side, dangling their feet and their lines into the ocean.
Finally, he bumped her shoulder with his own. Looking down at her, her long hair flowing loose in the breeze, the warmth he’d experienced earlier burst into flame inside of him. “Thank you.”
She used her small bare foot to nudge his much bigger one. Tingles permeated the area at her slight touch. “Welcome.”
“How’d you pull this off?”
She smiled. “Borrowed the gear from Leon.”
He didn’t need any more words, and he was thankful for that. Because there weren’t any that would express how she’d made him feel. Nothing about Aston Hopewell was predictable, and he was finding out more and more every day that her feisty spontaneity was exactly what he craved.
When he arrived back at the tack house that evening, he sank onto the couch. He flipped on the TV and stared at the screen without watching it. She’d taken him fishing. He’d mentioned it once, in passing, and she’d committed it to memory. Awe filled him when he considered how much it had affected him. He contemplated picking up the phone to thank her again until he heard a knock at the front door.
Shit, he thought, remembering Tamara. He liked her; he appreciated her sweetness and her desire to help him through a difficult time. He also knew that she wanted more from him than he’d ever be able to give.
He got up and opened the door.
“Hey, there.” Tamara breezed past him, carrying a brown paper grocery bag.
“Hey, yourself,” he answered. “What’s in the bag?” He warily watched her unload the bag on the island in his kitchen.
“Some snacks to go with our movie. And some beer, of course. I got you your Michelob, because I wasn’t sure you were keeping your fridge stocked. A single guy like you, living all by your lonesome over here.”
Sam let out a rumble of laughter. “Well, you come prepared, don’t you?” He sat on a barstool and watched her fill a bowl with Chex Mix. “Actually, I don’t do the stocking at all. The Hopewell’s housekeeper comes once a week, and I’m not picky. She doesn’t know I like Michelob, though. So thank you.”
The unexpected warmth he felt in his chest at having a female presence in his house wasn’t lost on him. He liked the feeling. He just found himself wishing it were a different presen
ce.
“What movie?” he asked, expecting her to name a RomCom.
“Man of Steel,” she announced.
Sam’s eyes widened. “The Superman movie? You brought an action flick to my house? Girl, you should come with a warning! You’re dangerous.”
She smirked. “Why? Because there’s a superhero nerd under all this hotness?”
This time he threw back his head and roared with laughter. Maybe tonight was going to help him forget, after all.
Aston watched the path leading from the tack house to the main house driveway sporadically all night. Her afternoon with Sam had been like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being underwater for a long time. She’d never been fishing. She’d never had the desire to do something so simple and mundane. She liked fast cars, the rush of a bucking horse. She loved corporate dealings, and luxury shopping trips in a big city.
But spending a day sitting on a pier beside a man who made her feel something in her stomach and her chest and her core she’d never felt before…it was a whole different kind of rush.
She knew when Tamara had arrived, because her little red Porsche Cayenne was parked in the curve of the driveway. She kept checking to see if she’d left yet.
But every time she looked, her heart sank when she saw that the car was still parked in the same spot, taunting her. She secretly hoped that Sam couldn’t forget his afternoon with her while he sat in his house alone with Tamara.
“You’re making yourself crazy, you know,” Reed said.
They were sitting on the couch in the great room, watching a movie. She didn’t even know what movie it was. She kept getting up to go check the window.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“I haven’t talked to Sam today, but I’m guessing he let Tamara come keep him company tonight, since her car is parked in the driveway. Am I right?”
Her brother’s lazy drawl irritated her. “So?”
“So, if you’re so curious, why don’t you just go down there and crash their party?”
She glared at him. “Weren’t you the one who told me to stay away? Tamara wasn’t that stupid. She didn’t stay away! Now she’s cuddled up in the tack house with Sam. She’s the last thing he needs right now.” She left out the tiny detail that she’d also spent time with Sam alone today.