CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
We make it through the bubble bath and dinner without any incidents or too many tears. Sadie knows herself better than I do; she was right about those chicken nuggets helping her feel less sad. Sadie falls asleep on our way back up to the room, snuggled in Sam’s arms. He puts her to bed, and her whispery snore keeps a steady rhythm as we remove our clothing and change into pajamas. I’m wearing flannel pants and a T-shirt, and Sam is in basketball shorts. I have to look away from his muscular chest to keep from wanting to run my hands all over it.
“I really want to sleep with you tonight,” he whispers. He comes over to hold me while we’re standing at the foot of the other bed. His masculine smell and presence nearly overwhelm me and make me want to forget every rule of decency I ever learned.
“But we can’t,” I whisper back. I push out of his embrace, worried he’s going to ignore the fact that his little girl is sound asleep next to us. Yes, I really want to have sex with him, feel his hardness penetrate me and make me forget at least temporarily all the sad things we dealt with today, but there’s no way I’m going to risk getting discovered by Sadie.
This little girl is so impressionable, and she sees everything. She kept the entire conversation going during dinner with her crazy banter, and from the stories she told, it’s clear that she understands a lot more about her mother’s lifestyle then Sam ever realized. He feels guilty enough about that; we don’t need to add anything else to his list of regrets.
“How about if I sleep with her?” I suggest. “That way you can spread out tonight in your own bed.”
“No, I’ll sleep with her. You paid for the room, so you should have your own space. And by the way, I’m going to pay you back for this.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get back to New York and worry about everything then.”
He takes my hand. “Are you scared?”
“About what?”
“About marrying me.”
I release his hand and step back, my mouth dropping open in shock.
He giggles like a girl, hiding his smile behind his hand. I can see his stupid weirdo beardo quivering with his laughter.
“Stop that.” My face is flaming hot. I slap him gently on the arm. I’d hit him harder, but I don’t want to wake Sadie.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” He laughs some more.
“You are so bold.” I shake my head at him. One thing I can say about Sam: he sure knows how to bring down the temperature in a room. My blood is now running cold from the shock, when before it was ready to boil over from staring at his gorgeous body.
“What else am I gonna do? My four-year-old thinks she needs to make moves on chicks for me. She must think I’m pretty lame.”
“Well, she’s a pretty smart little girl; you are lame.” I busy myself with putting my clothing in my suitcase, trying hard not to smile but failing miserably.
“Seriously, though.” His voice is no longer teasing. “Are you okay? Are you worried about anything? Are we cool?”
“I’m not worried about anything anymore.” I close my suitcase and turn to face him. “We’re safe out here at this no-name hotel, and we’re leaving tomorrow. What’s there to be afraid of?”
He takes my hand again. “Are you freaked out about what’s going on otherwise . . . like, between us?”
I shrug. “Maybe a little.” Being able to admit my feelings to him somehow makes the fear recede, seem more manageable. It helps that he’s being so open and talking about it. I’ve never been in a relationship like this with a man before.
“I worry about you being afraid, you know,” he says.
“Why?”
“Because. Some people make snap decisions when they’re afraid of something, and it may not always be the best option in the long run.”
“What kind of decisions are you talking about?”
He stares at me for a while before answering. “The kind where you choose between sticking around and running away.”
I fold my arms, slightly offended that he’d think this about me. “I was just relocating, not running.”
“I’m not talking about your decision to come to this hotel.”
Oh. His meaning hits me like a smack upside the head. He thinks I’m so afraid of what’s going on between us, I’m going to run from him. “I thought you knew me better than that by now.” It’s true that we will probably end up apart, but it won’t be because I was afraid and took off; it’ll be because life circumstances dictate that he be in one place and I be in another, either because of work or because we decide we don’t get along anymore.
“I think I do know you, Em.”
I cross my arms over my chest so I can keep from doing something we’ll both regret. “What happened the last time you told me I was afraid?”
“I don’t remember.” He tries not to smile, which is smart of him because if I even get an inkling that he’s mocking me, I am going to make him very sorry; I see a serious beard-tugging in his future.
“You ended up in a bet with me that you still need to fulfill, by the way. You’re going to owe me two hundred bucks.”
His grin is huge. “I can’t wait. Maybe I can get Sadie to play tambourine.”
I lift my chin. “Perfect. I can’t wait either.” I turn away and pull my toothbrush out of my bag, moving toward the bathroom.
Even while brushing my teeth, I’m fighting off a grin. I love hanging out with Sam and Sadie, even when things are emotionally charged or sad. I never realized before that four-year-olds could be cool. Even though she majorly embarrassed me with that marriage comment, it still turned out okay. Sam can joke about it, and that’s exactly what we need—humor . . . laughter . . . the things that will get us past these bumps of sorrow that we’re running over.
If we can hang on to our smiles and our senses of humor, everything’s going to be okay. One step at a time, we’ll get past the death of Sadie’s mom, and one day at a time, I’ll get over missing these beautiful people who will eventually move on. It doesn’t matter that I’m falling in love with this man. I won’t let it destroy my world. I’ll just deal with the inevitable pain when it comes and move on.
At that thought, my smile fades and is replaced by a frown. I’m afraid that while Sam and Sadie will become a part of my past, the sadness of losing them will remain forever a part of my present.