by Terri Osburn
After admiring his strong thighs, Callie looked up to see fire in Sam’s eyes. They’d gone beyond gray to black, and the teasing smile was gone. “Stand up, Callie,” he ordered, his voice sending tremors through her limbs. “We don’t want the water to get cold.”
Something told her that Sam’s stepping into the tub would have the water boiling in seconds. Heat radiated from his body as his mood grew more intense. For a split second, Callie felt a shiver of fear. This wasn’t playful sex. Sam was giving her more, but he demanded more in return.
How much could she give him and still have something left when they were over?
“You’re thinking too much,” Sam said, pulling her up with one hand. Pressing her palm flat over his heart, he covered it with his own. “No thinking tonight.”
His pulse beat a steady rhythm against her skin, strong and quick and full of life, and she knew what he was doing. Sam was offering her his heart. And Callie had only a split second to decide if she would take it.
He knew he’d gone too far by the look on her face, but Sam had no intention of turning back now. That didn’t mean he couldn’t retreat a little. No sense in scaring Callie away.
“You’re still thinking,” he said, his tone lighter. More teasing than intense.
“I’m a little curious,” Callie said, confusion and concern clear in her eyes. “The bubbles. The candles. They don’t seem like your style.”
Sam had clearly miscalculated. Though he didn’t doubt he could change her mind, Callie was still intent on keeping their relationship sex only. Admitting that he wanted more before she was ready was an amateur move, and he knew better.
Hoping to slow down that brilliant mind of hers, Sam touched all the places he knew would get a reaction. A knuckle over her nipple. A palm along her hip. A finger grazing along the band of her lace panties.
“There are sides to me you’ve never seen,” he said. “I thought I’d reveal a new one tonight.”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes growing darker, more hazy, as he maintained contact. “I’m starting to see that.”
Dropping kisses along her jaw, he whispered, “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”
Callie locked her hands on his upper arms. “I’m not wearing anything but my underwear.”
“And that’s too much.” Sam laid his palms against her sides, slid them beneath the strip of elastic, and drove the delicate fabric down her legs in one swift movement. Without prompting, Callie stepped out of them, then pressed against him.
“Is that better?” she said, before clasping his left nipple between her teeth and taking the hardest part of him in her grasp.
Sam could only nod as the blood left his brain in a rush. He was supposed to be the seducer here, but she was taking over.
“What’s that?” Callie asked. “I can’t hear you.”
Because he was about to say the three words that would bring this encounter to an abrupt halt, Sam jerked Callie’s head up and took her mouth in a kiss that expressed everything he couldn’t say. The more he demanded, the more she gave, until he thought he might die from the need to drive into her.
Breaking the kiss with a growl, Sam stepped into the tub, taking Callie with him. They sank into the water together, and she settled on top of him instantly, as mindless with desire as he was.
“Oh my God,” she said, her head falling back as she lowered herself onto him. Sam lifted his hips to give her more. Callie gasped, her head popping back up and meeting his gaze. She continued to stare into his eyes as she rode him, smooth and slick, the water swirling with her movements, bubbles clinging to her breasts as they bobbed along the surface.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Callie pressed her mouth to his, nipping his bottom lip, sucking on his tongue. She was in full control now, and all Sam could do was hold on. But he wanted to give her more. Slowing her down, he broke the kiss and took her face in his hands.
He didn’t say a word, but Sam let her see what was in his eyes. See that this time was different.
Lowering his hands to her breasts, he molded them with his touch. Her eyes slid closed again, but her movements remained slow. Then his hands dropped lower still, until he was grasping her hips, thrusting with her. Finally, he pressed one finger to her clit, determined to send her soaring.
He selfishly wanted to watch her come against him. He wanted to give her pleasure, but Sam wasn’t beyond taking his own. Her panting turned to moans. Her nails dug into his skin. And then they both got what they wanted, as Callie’s body convulsed with a scream and Sam watched her visit the stars before he flew after her.
It wasn’t until they were both breathing heavily, and Callie’s face was tucked against Sam’s neck, that he realized they’d forgotten about the condoms.
Callie sat curled up in the blue chair, sipping her tea and watching the waves in the distance. There wasn’t much moonlight, so she could barely make them out in the darkness. But she could hear them. She needed to hear them in order to block out the screaming in her head.
She’d had sex with Sam without a condom. No, strike that. She’d made love with Sam without a condom. The chances were slim that she would actually get pregnant. She and Josh had been trying for months before that fateful weekend when he and Meredith had been killed.
Which was another reason the affair had been such a blow. She’d thought they were happy. That she would give Josh the beautiful babies that he wanted and then she would feel like she’d really done something, she’d contributed in some way.
But every month her period arrived and the light in Josh’s eyes dimmed that much more. He had hardly even looked at her by the time it had all ended so tragically.
Quite the ironic twist from then until now. Now Callie prayed her period would show up so she wouldn’t have to deal with Sam’s looking at her as if she’d trapped him. Truth be told, she felt a bit trapped herself. A baby would put a serious damper on her career aspirations.
Callie could barely take care of herself and a bird. How the hell would she take care of a baby?
“You okay?” Sam asked, dropping onto the ottoman. Callie had left him to get dressed in the bedroom.
It had taken everything she had not to ask him to go home. She needed time alone to think. After what they’d done, she felt closer to Sam than ever before, which was the reason she wanted him to leave.
This was too much for one day. The possibility of staying on Anchor. A shot at stability and the chance to do what she loved. And then there was Sam. Precious, generous, never-going-to-marry-again Sam.
Add in the baby blip, and her brain was on overload. Though her heart wasn’t feeling all that great either.
“Things got a little out of hand in there,” she said, keeping her eyes on the waves. If she looked at him, she might say something she’d regret.
“That’s my fault,” he said, drawing her attention. None of the confidence he usually displayed was there. If anything, he looked scared.
Of course he was. He could be an unwilling father in nine months.
“Don’t worry,” Callie said. “I won’t hold you responsible.”
His brows slammed together. “What?”
Callie shook her head. “Josh and I tried for months, with no luck, so I’m sure it’ll be fine. But either way, you don’t need to worry.”
“Exactly what don’t I need to worry about?” Sam’s jaw was tight, as were his words.
“I mean—” she started, but he cut her off.
“Do you think I would turn my back on you if you were having our child?”
“No. I—”
“Or that I wouldn’t have a problem with you shutting me out of its life?”
This wasn’t going right at all. Why was he so mad? They didn’t even know if there would be a baby, and he was accusing her of shutting him out?
“I wouldn’
t do that,” Callie argued, her anger growing to match Sam’s. “I don’t want you to think I’d trap you like this, okay?” Storming out of the chair, she didn’t even care that she was spilling tea everywhere. “I know you don’t want to get married again. I knew that when we started and this was supposed to be just sex, not love and marriage and babies. Good Lord, when did this get so nuts?”
Sam followed her into the kitchen. Why wouldn’t he give her some space? She needed to think, damn it.
“Are you saying you won’t marry me?”
Callie tossed her mug into the sink, then waved her hands over her head. “You don’t want to get married. I don’t . . . want to marry a man who doesn’t want to get married.”
“But what if—”
“What if there’s a baby?” Callie finished for him. “I don’t know. If there’s a baby, then I’ll deal with it.” She rubbed her forehead, struggling to keep the panic from taking her under. She would not have an attack. Not now. Not in front of Sam.
“We’ll deal with it,” Sam said, tugging her against him. “I have plans. It’s all going to be alright.”
She wanted to stay there, safe in his arms, feeling protected and cherished and as if she’d never have to worry about anything again. But then his words soaked into her muddled brain.
Pulling back, she asked, “What do you mean, you have plans? Plans for what?”
“For us,” he said, with a sappy grin on his face. “I’ll take care of everything.”
It was happening again. Someone else trying to dictate what her life would be, and all she had to do was smile and follow along. Callie couldn’t let that happen. Would not let that happen.
“Who asked you to take care of anything?” She bolted away from him. “I have plans of my own,” she said, poking herself in the chest. “And I don’t need to be taken care of.”
“Calm down, please,” he begged. “If you’ll hear me out, you’ll see that this is a good thing.”
All Callie could see was her weakness being thrown in her face. Her failure to stand on her own. And then there was the fact that Sam only wanted more now that he thought she might be pregnant. She hadn’t been enough to change his mind, but add a possible Edwards heir, and he had plans.
“You need to go,” she said, feeling the heat crawling up her neck. Breathing was getting harder, and she could feel a cold sweat coming on. If she could get rid of him, Callie would be able to get a grip. To stop the attack before it took over.
“You can’t throw me out,” Sam pleaded. “Not now.”
“I need time! Can’t you see that?” she screamed. Her control was slipping. Pressing her hands against her temples, Callie closed her eyes. “If you care about me at all, you’ll go.”
For once, he didn’t argue. Or push. Or demand. Callie was still standing in the kitchen with her eyes closed when she heard the front door slam.
Sam didn’t know what to do. He sat in his car for at least twenty minutes in Callie’s driveway. Then he simply pulled out and drove. The next thing he knew, he was sitting on the edge of a dock in the marina. Though there was little light from the moon, he knew where the Sunset Harbor Inn sat across the bay.
And he could practically see a light burning in Callie’s cottage. Faint. Distant. Almost inconceivable. Much like the woman sitting in its glow.
The woman he loved.
How could she say those things to him? They’d made love, and yes, they’d been careless, but what did that matter now? Apparently, a great deal. To Callie, at least.
This night had been more than a miscalculation. Sam had made assumptions about their relationship that were clearly, blatantly, gut-wrenchingly wrong.
Her rejection should have made him angry, but he’d been the one to change the terms of their agreement. He’d leaped in and had expected Callie to throw her arms around him and sail off into the perfect future he’d concocted in his mind.
For the second time in his life, Sam had thought a woman loved him. And again he’d been wrong. At least Callie had been up front about her feelings. She’d never led him on. Hadn’t married him and then taken off on a lovers’ tryst with another man. He had to give her credit for that.
Callie wanted space, and she would have it. The inn would be finished in little more than a month. Then she would move on and so would he. Anchor Island would become nothing but a distant memory.
Unless their slip tonight did indeed turn into a baby. Callie might not want him, but Sam would never walk away from his own child. She would have to deal with that.
By three in the morning, Callie hadn’t found much peace, but at least she’d managed to hold off the panic attack. In taking inventory of the situation, she knew some things for certain.
For one, she wasn’t going to marry a man who didn’t want her. Especially one ready to make decisions about her life without even consulting her. But she also knew that she’d never keep Sam away from his own child, if there was one, which Callie highly doubted there would be. Josh had been tested not long before he’d died, and that had allowed the doctors to rule him out as the reason why they couldn’t get pregnant.
Callie had been scheduled for tests the week after the accident. She hadn’t seen any reason to go, but it didn’t take a genius to do the math and know that if Josh wasn’t shooting blanks, there was only one person left who could be the problem. And really, bum ovaries would be the last element anyone needed to declare her the most disappointing human around.
Which was melodramatic and whiny, but, damn it, couldn’t one thing go right in her life?
Not that she wanted to be pregnant right now, but someday would be nice.
Unfortunately, the issue of impending parenthood wasn’t the only thing she and Sam needed to deal with. He was still her boss. They still had a hotel to renovate in the next five weeks. And there was the sticky subject of what the hell they were doing in private.
Searching for answers, Callie replayed the last seven weeks in her mind. She needed to figure out where this whole thing had gone off the rails.
And then she remembered what Sam had said. That their relationship was already complicated enough without their sleeping together again. He’d been right, but Callie had barreled ahead anyway, pushing him into an affair. Seducing him into her bed and then getting pissed when it all blew up in her face, as Sam had known it would.
That left only one thing to do. She had to end it. Now.
A quick check of the clock said now might need to wait a few more hours. But Callie needed to take action. So she opened her laptop. It might be cowardly to break off a sexual escapade via email, but Callie also knew if she tried doing this in person, she wouldn’t survive it.
If Sam looked relieved, she might crack right open at his feet. If he tried to change her mind, she’d most likely cave and spend the rest of her life being nothing but another man’s puppet.
No. Email was best. It took an hour of writing, deleting, gnashing of teeth, chugging of tea, and conferring with Cecil to get the message right. Of course, Cecil had only suggested Callie offer Sam a cracker. Not much help, but a bit of comic relief when she’d needed it.
She sat staring at the words “message sent” for a long time, fighting the urge to cancel it somehow. To change her mind, delete the message, and beg Sam to forgive her little tantrum.
And then the sun came up over the ocean and Callie realized that life hadn’t stopped during the night. The world continued to spin regardless of her emotional conniption, the likes of which would put her mother’s fits to shame.
She could still get a couple hours’ sleep before anyone expected her at the inn. And since Sam wouldn’t be sleeping over anymore, Callie could go to bed early that evening after a lonely dinner of soup for one. Maybe she’d even share her oyster crackers with Cecil and make his night. Who said she needed a man to have excitement in her life?
&
nbsp; Callie sighed as she headed for the bedroom. Until she spotted Sam’s clothes folded neatly over a chair. And there was his cologne on the dresser. Because she was an idiot, Callie spritzed a drop onto her wrist. It was as if Sam had walked into the room.
On second thought, sleep was overrated, Callie thought. She’d much rather have a shower.
CHAPTER 26
It had been a month, and Sam was still reeling from the email Callie had sent him. She’d had the nerve to tell him he’d been right all along. That they were complicated, and having any further connection outside of their professional one would only make matters worse. The message explained that he no longer needed to contribute manual labor to the renovation, since they were working with a larger crew.
And then another message, ten days later, to say he needn’t worry about fatherhood. There would not be a baby in their future.
She might as well have walked into his office and taken a baseball bat to his knees.
As much as it annoyed the hell out of him, Sam agreed with her suggestion and avoided making personal appearances at the inn. But that hadn’t stopped him from demanding regular status updates, delivered electronically, of course. And he continued his efforts to find a property around Charleston to invest in. Something with hidden potential that needed little more than cosmetic improvements to make it shine.
Which led to a prime opportunity that had landed in his inbox that morning. A small inn not far from Patriots Point, in close proximity to both the water and a golf course. According to his contact, the building was sound but the interior was in dire need of updating. Callie would have been the perfect person to handle the makeover, but, of course, she was no longer a part of this new endeavor. The thought caused a twinge not far from Sam’s breastbone.
He was running the numbers for viability when a knock sounded at his door.