Chapter Eight
NATALIE
Dancing with Sam. Talking with Sam. Holding, kissing, and hugging Sam.
My mind can barely process the events of the last half hour. One minute I am fighting the temptation of flirting with a sexy dentist. The next my Sam—the Sam I thought I lost—is in the bar, throwing back scotch like there’s no tomorrow, claiming me with possessive gestures and heated kisses, humming to the songs he once loved, and holding me so tenderly on the dance floor I am sure it must all be dream. When I left the house this morning to run my errands, I never imagined my evening would turn out like this.
But then he has to go and ruin it by reminding me that the farm comes first. After just one taste of the old Sam, one tiny peek behind the closed doors, one little reminder of how it feels to be held and wanted, I can’t go back.
Confusion flickers across Sam’s face, and for a moment he looks so lost, I can’t bring myself to walk away like I was about to do. Instead, I lean in, rest my cheek against his chest. He smells clean and soapy, his T-shirt still damp, but the deep rich scent of earth and the sweet scent of grain still cling to his skin.
He lets out a ragged breath, and his arms wrap around me, holding me so tight I can barely breathe.
“I want . . . ” He hesitates. “You to be happy.”
“I wasn’t happy today.” I press closer to him, soaking up his warmth. It feels so good to touch him again, to be in his arms, to feel like a woman and not a pal. Even if we don’t come back for years—and it will be years because the farm is demanding and relentless and every day there is some emergency that demands Sam’s attention—I will have this memory, fresher and more real than the memories of the past.
“You should have told me.”
“I thought you knew. I’m always sad on Ethan’s birthday.” The irony of the statement isn’t lost on me. Didn’t he just say the same thing only moments ago?
“So you decided to go drinking with your dentist?” His voice tightens, catches, and I see that possessive set to his jaw all over again.
“Aiden was so kind when I mentioned it at the office. He lost a child too, so he understood, and he was able to talk about it in a way no one else can. I couldn’t bear the thought of going home and sitting at the table, saying nothing like it was any other day. I wanted to talk about Ethan and let the pain out, and then I wanted not to think about it anymore. I wanted music and noise and dancing and drinking, and people having fun. That’s not what we have anymore.”
His arms fall away. “What are you saying?”
“I think I need some time away.” I feel the truth of the words as I say them. I don’t want our lonely house so far away from town, the discordant sounds of jazz, the buckets of vegetables just waiting to be canned. I don’t want another day of endless work alone in the garden, and another dinner talking about the weather before we go to our separate beds. I don’t want the memories of Ethan or the room I locked up the day he died. I want love and life and laughter.
“Why?” His body shakes as if an earthquake rumbled beneath his feet. I give up the pretence of dancing and looked up into his stormy, gray eyes.
“I’m suffocating. I didn’t realize it until today. For a few hours, I could breathe again. Aiden opened a door for me. I felt—”
“What?” His hands ball into fists. “What did you feel?”
“Happy,” I whisper, looking away as bile rises in my throat.
“He made you happy?” Sam staggers back as if I slapped him, breaking our connection.
“Yes.” I hesitate when his eyes narrow. “No. I mean, only I can make me happy, but he just—”
Before I can finish my thought, Sam is shoving his way through the crowd toward the table where Alexis and Aiden are talking with Chris, a carpenter in town. Without breaking his stride, he grabs Aiden by the collar and yanks him out of his seat.
Breathless from chasing after him, I grab Sam’s arm. “Sam! Stop. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Whoa. Hey, buddy.” Chris pushes his way between them, breaking Sam’s hold. He’s a big guy, taller than Sam, but nowhere near as strong. “What’s going on?”
“It’s okay.” Aiden steps out from behind Chris. “I was hitting on his wife.”
With a roar, Sam throws himself forward, carrying Aiden to the ground. It is Rex Morgan all over again, except Aiden never kissed me.
Alexis jumps up from her seat only seconds before the two men crash into the table, spilling their drinks on the floor. A quick-thinking bystander catches the bottle of scotch and disappears into the crowd.
“Stop it.” I take a step toward the growling, punching, seething mass of testosterone on the floor. “Sam. Leave him alone.”
If he hears me, he pays no attention. His entire focus is on Aiden, who clearly is no lightweight when it comes to brawling in a bar. Sam already has a cut on his temple, and his cheek is badly bruised, although Aiden looks worse with one eye swollen shut and his bottom lip split and bleeding.
I was hitting on his wife.
Am I really that naive? I’d been enjoying Aiden’s company, appreciated his compliments, bonded with him over our shared loss, maybe even flirted with the idea that he might find me attractive, but I’d never once considered that he might want to take things further. And I would never have cheated on Sam. When I told him I needed some time away, I didn’t mean that I wanted to be with Aiden. I just wanted to be free of a life that was keeping us both from our dreams.
Two bouncers arrive, and with Chris’s help, they pull Aiden and Sam apart. Blood drips down the side of Sam’s face, and his chest heaves as he glares at Aiden from across the floor.
“My God, Sam.” I grab a napkin and a glass of water and run over to tend his wounds, but when I lift the napkin to his cheek, he slaps my hand away. “Don’t.”
“You’re hurt.”
He gives a bitter laugh and turns away. For a moment I thought something had changed tonight—that Sam showing up here meant he still cared, and that we might finally open up to each other. But nothing has changed. He’s still the same closed off Sam he’s been since Ethan died.
“Sam.” I move to follow him, but Aiden, now free of Chris’s grip, holds me back.
“Let him go.”
“Let him go?” I stare at him aghast. “He thinks I want to leave him for you, and you didn’t help. Why did you tell him you were hitting on me? I might have been out of the dating game for a long time, but I’m a good judge of people, and you’re a good person, a kind and compassionate person. You gave up your evening to comfort me and cheer me up, even though it meant talking about your daughter, which I could tell was painful for you. That’s a lot of effort to go through to get laid, especially for a man who could pretty much have any woman in the bar if he wanted. I don’t know why you said that to him, but we both know it isn’t true.”
Aiden studies me for a few long moments, and then he smiles. “He doesn’t appreciate just how lucky he is. That alone was worth a punch or two.”
Speechless, I leave him with Alexis and race out of the bar to find Sam. I spot him across the parking lot, leaning against a low brick wall with a cigarette in his hand. I haven’t seen him smoking since we left Billings. He quit when we found out as I pregnant, and although I hate the entire idea of smoking, my heart squeezes in my chest when I see him standing there, dramatically attractive and effortlessly cool, the rock star reborn.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m not the one you should be worried about.” He exhales a cloud of smoke into the crisp, night air, as if he hadn’t just beat up a dentist in the bar.
“You’re the only one I care about.”
“But you need some time away from me . . . with Steadman.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I cup his face between my hands. His jaw is rough with a five o’clock shadow, his eyes dark shadows in the night. “I meant time away alone. Talking to Aiden unlocked something inside me. I haven’t talked to anyone about Eth
an. Not you, or my sisters, or even Alexis. It was such a relief to trade stories with someone who had been through the same thing. I feel different tonight. Free. Like the pain has shifted and a burden has been lifted from me. But I’m afraid that if I return to the farm before I process everything, I’ll lose this feeling and my life will go back to being the way it was.”
His face darkens. “You don’t want our life?”
“I need something to change. I can’t do this anymore. We’re together, but not together. Does that make sense? It’s lonelier being with you and feeling like we can’t connect, than if I were truly alone.”
He takes another puff of his cigarette. “Where are planning to go?”
“I was going to ask Alexis if I could stay in her spare room, or maybe go to Billings and stay with one of my old friends.”
“We’ll get a hotel,” he says abruptly.
“That costs money,” I protest. Although the farm does well, we are usually short of cash; most of our money goes back into the farm or is tied up in the land. “You go on home and I’ll talk to Alexis. I’m not leaving you, Sam. I just need some space.”
“If the alternative is spending a night apart, I don’t care what it costs.” He cups my nape and draws me close. “Give me tonight,” he says. “If you still want to leave in the morning, I won’t stand in your way. But at least let me try to give you what you want.”
“It’s not the kind of problem that can be solved in one night.”
“Nat . . .” His voice catches, breaks. “Please, baby. I can’t lose you. I’ve lost everyone. My mother, my dad, Ethan . . . I won’t lose you too.”
I feel an ache in my throat. The last thing I want to do is hurt Sam, and until tonight I had never thought about leaving. How can I turn him down when he’s finally being raw and real and emotionally honest with me? Maybe we won’t solve our problems in one night, but if we could bring them out into the open, we might be able to find a way forward. Together.
“The Manor Inn is down the road.” I swallow hard. “They should have a room free.”
Half an hour later, we are in the penthouse suite of Revival’s finest hotel—our first ever penthouse, and the first hotel we’ve stayed in since leaving Billings.
“Can you believe this?” I walk through the expansive living area, decorated in a mixture of neoclassical and gothic styles that is both luxurious and stunning. Floral mosaic patterns on the walls contrast with the gorgeous marble features of the predominantly cream-and-black décor. “I feel like I’m in New York.”
“Don’t know how they stay in business,” Sam says as he closes the door. “Who’s going to pay these prices to stay in Revival?”
“A lot of people, obviously, or they wouldn’t have been full up tonight.” I kick off my shoes and walk across the plush cream carpet to the bedroom, a vast circular space dominated by a massive four-poster bed. “My god, Sam. You could fit an entire family on there.”
He chuckles, a deep, rich, beautiful sound. I can’t remember the last time I’d heard Sam laugh—really laugh—and I want to hear it again.
“Just gonna be us, I’m afraid.”
Just us. I don’t know what us is left, but Sam seems determined to try. After saying goodbye to Alexis and Aiden, he called his lead man to give him instructions about feeding the calves, taking care of Rebel, and lining up the hired men for their assignments in the morning. Sam likes to be in charge, and I know handing over responsibility isn’t easy for him.
“Where’s the farm?” I join him at the floor-to-ceiling window and stare out into the night.
“There.” He points to the left. “At the bottom of the mountain. That’s the light at the end of the driveway. I turned it on so you could find your way home in case you arrived before me.” His voice hitches, and I slide my hand into his and give it a squeeze.
“Thank you.”
“You didn’t come home.” He draws in a shuddering breath. “No note. No message. I thought—”
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I should have texted you.”
“You didn’t want me to know you were with him.” He releases my hand and turns from the glass.
“To be honest, I didn’t even think you’d notice I was gone except that you had no dinner. I figured you’d make a sandwich, feed Rebel, go look after the calves, and go to bed. I never thought you’d worry about me, and I certainly didn’t expect you to come to the bar.”
He shrugs. “I wouldn’t have except Alexis made me think . . .” He raises a hand as if to touch me and lowers it again. “Were you and he . . . If I hadn’t shown up, would you have gone home with him?”
“No, Sam,” I say softly. “That’s not the kind of person I am. I just wanted to feel normal again. He made me feel normal. I could talk to him, and there was no baggage between us. No expectations. No regrets. No resentment. Even with my friends here in town, there is so much history, it’s hard to talk candidly. People see you in a certain way because that’s how they’ve seen you forever. He saw me with fresh eyes, and I realized the woman I used to be is still inside me. A woman with hopes and dreams for the future. A woman who is beautiful and wants to be loved.”
“I love you,” he says.
“I don’t feel it. Not anymore. It’s like I don’t matter. The farm is all that matters to you. I was in so much pain from my tooth, I couldn’t eat for two days and you didn’t notice. A calf only drinks half his bottle, and you’re out there at midnight checking him out.”
His hand goes to his forehead, and he rubs his eyes. “You didn’t tell me. If you’d told me—”
“What? What would you have done?” My voice trembles. “Nothing. You’d tell me to see the dentist and then ask what’s for dinner.”
“Christ.” He runs his hand through his thick hair. “I’m not a dentist. I figure if you need something, you’ll ask, and when you don’t, I figure you can handle it yourself and you don’t need me.”
My breath leaves me with a sigh. “I need you to sympathize. Or to ask if there is something you can do. Anything. Get me a cup of tea. Offer to call the dentist. When I got that terrible flu when we lived in Billings, you made me soup, filled the freezer with cold towels for my head, and you played songs for me. You called up everyone you knew until you found a doctor willing to make house calls, and you dragged him to our apartment in the middle of the night. I want that again. I want to feel the way you used to make me feel before we moved to the farm.”
We both stare out the window at the light flickering in the darkness of the mountains. Together, but apart.
“You want me to sell the farm,” he says. “I’ll sell the farm.”
“You love the farm. I would never ask you to sell it.”
“I love you more.” Turning to face me, he slides his fingers over my cheek and cups my jaw with a gentleness that belies the size and strength of his callused hands. “I can’t imagine a life without you, Natalie. I’m nothing without you. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”
“This is a good start.” I turn my head and kiss his palm. “Being close with you again is nice.”
“We could be closer.”
My stomach tightens. I feel like we’re dancing on the edge of an abyss and the slightest misstep will send us over the edge. If we try to have sex and it is our usual seven-minute fumble in the dark, with Sam already gloved and ready for me, I will break inside.
“No.” I pull back. “Sam . . .”
He gently tips my head to the side and buries his face in my neck. “I miss you. I miss being close the way we used to be.” His lips slide over my skin, his breath hot and warm, and his hands firm and gentle on my body.
“We need to talk first,” I say, trying to detach myself even as my body flushes with heat.
He cuts me off with a kiss, soft and sweet. “It’s been so long, baby. So long since you wanted me. Let me love you first and we’ll talk after.”
A sliver of guilt winds its way through my heart. If I’d
reached across the bed all those nights we lay two feet apart, if I’d shown my desire instead of waiting for him to touch me, would things have been better? I’ve blamed him all these years for being too tired for sex, but there were two of us in the bed, and one of us was terrified of getting pregnant again, of losing another child. Sam might have shut down emotionally, but I am part of the problem too.
Before I can dissuade him, he wraps his arms around me, pressing me against his hard, firm body. Something snaps inside me, and I kiss him with the passion and intensity of ten years of longing, so fierce and hard he groans. Our lips part, tongues tangle. We cling to each other, my arms around his broad shoulders, his around my waist. And then his hands slide down and he lifts me, carries me easily across the room, and falls with me onto the giant bed.
I want to keep kissing him. I want to strip off his clothes and make love for hours. But what happens then? Do we get up in the morning and go back to the farm? What if Sam is content to go back to the way things were? How can I go back to a life of quiet desperation after getting a glimpse of the passionate man I fell in love with? I have never been as lonely as when Sam became a stranger to me physically and emotionally. Sex is not enough to heal us. If we make love tonight, nothing will change tomorrow.
Chapter Nine
SAM
I know the exact moment I lose her. She slips away like my last breath before sleep, her body stiffening beneath me, head turning until my lips slide over her cheek.
“What’s wrong?” I don’t want to know, but I do. Don’t want to stop, but I have no choice.
“You’ve got blood on you.”
I look down. There are a few streaks of blood on my shirt, a few more on my arm, and one on the back of my hand where I wiped my brow.
Relief floods my veins. “I’ll go wash it off.”
“You’ll probably need to take a shower.”
An image of naked Natalie in the shower flashes in my mind. Soft, soapy skin. Warm, wet heat. “We can shower together.” I push myself up and pull my T-shirt over my head.
Naughty Secrets (Naughty Shorts Book 3) Page 5