Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tough
Three weeks and one day later…
I walked on the wet, uneven sidewalks. They were wet but it wasn’t raining.
For once.
I had not noticed London was foggy but it sure was wet.
As I rushed along the sidewalks, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched. It was freaky weird and totally stupid. No one was watching me. But as I went, twice, I turned my head to scan my surroundings.
There were a sea of faces but no one was looking at me.
I rushed because I was late and I rushed because I didn’t want to get caught in rain. I had an umbrella but I’d moved out of the residential area of Kensington where Celeste and Thomas lived and into the area of Kensington where the sidewalks were rife with people. It was already a struggle negotiating the populated streets, it was a pain in the ass to do it with your umbrella bumping against and catching on everyone else’s.
Trust me, I knew this and I’d only been there a week but I still had plenty of experience.
I left Memphis behind with Mom and Dad and took off. This was, I knew, because there was a possibility Sam was back in North Carolina and I didn’t want him to come after me. I also didn’t want to be in Indiana thinking he’d come after me when he wouldn’t. He had called in the time I’d been away; he’d done it three times. All three times, I’d let it go to voicemail then deleted his messages without even listening to them, knowing it would undo me (more) if I heard his voice especially his voice coming at me not knowing we were over. I figured, with Sam, it would be the latter and he wouldn’t come after me. He might not like it and I knew he cared about me enough really not to like it but he’d accept my decision.
That hurt. It shouldn’t but it did.
Then again, everything about losing Sam hurt.
Since Sam left me, I struggled with my decision. I wondered if I didn’t give it enough time, enough effort, enough patience, my mind consumed with what I might have tried, what I could have done to break through.
But lying in bed every night, tears sliding from my eyes, I knew. I knew that if Sam could see me come home from my long walk on the beach and know I came to the conclusion I came to and still not give me what I needed, he’d accept this. No amount of time, effort and patience was going to give me all of Sam.
I also gave a serious amount of headspace to considering if I should just take Sam as he could give himself to me. This was harder to come to grips with. What he gave would be enough for any woman much less me who only had Cooter as a comparison.
But something in my heart was telling me it wouldn’t work. Resentment would build. Ugliness would form. I didn’t want what Sam and I had to move in that direction. That would hurt worse.
And, bottom line, walking out on your woman to do whatever it was he intended to do without explanation, even minimal, well, that shit was not right.
So there I was, in England, with my friends, discovering new things, in the loving company of Celeste and Thomas, trying to mend my heart.
But at that moment, I really didn’t want to be out on the streets doing what I was going to be doing but Celeste encouraged me to do so. Then Thomas did.
I was at the Tate Modern museum the day before when I met him. We struck up a conversation. He heard my accent, I told him I was in London for a few weeks, he told me he’d lived in London for thirty-three years and then he suggested we should meet for coffee so he could tell me what to see that tourists didn’t normally see. Before I knew what was happening, we had plans to meet for coffee the next day.
I wanted to stand him up. But when I told Celeste about it, she encouraged me to go. Then she told Thomas and he encouraged me to go. Since it was Celeste and Thomas, they were wise, they cared about me and I cared about them, I really couldn’t say no.
And anyway, I didn’t have the strength left to fight them on it so there I was, going.
When I got to the area he told me the café was, I got a little lost. I was about to give up (and, truthfully, I didn’t try very hard before deciding to give up) when I saw the café.
Damn.
Right. Whatever. It was just a cup of coffee with a guy I met at a museum. And anyway, I wanted to see the London not many tourists got to see. Even Celeste and Thomas hadn’t been living there long enough to show that to me.
I moved inside and as I did, that feeling came back that I had eyes on me. I looked over my shoulder and again saw nothing but rushing Londoners and clueless-looking tourists.
What was up with me?
I shook it off, turned into the café and saw him.
Then it hit me I didn’t remember his name.
Shit.
Was it Jason? Jacob? Jeremy?
Shit!
He smiled at me, rising from his seat.
Shit.
Okay, just do this.
I smiled back and moved through the café. When I got there, he surprised me by rounding the table then getting in my space. Not way in my space but more than a fifteen minute conversation in front of a totally weird installation in an internationally known museum should allow. His hand came to my waist, his head bent in and his lips swept my cheek.
It was then I felt a burning intensity that was totally, totally weird. Like two laser beams were searing with pinpoint precision in my back.
I pulled away, moved back instantly, turned and glanced through the busy café.
Nothing.
Seriously, what was the matter with me?
I looked back at Jason/Jacob/Jeremy. That lip sweep was not a cheek touch or even a lip touch. It was more.
I saw the warmth in his eyes as he murmured, “Kia.”
Oh hell, he thought this was a date.
Shit!
“Uh… hi,” I replied then made a decision. “I… you…” Damn. What did I say? “Well, I’m so sorry but I’d agreed to meet you without talking to my friend, Celeste. She made plans for us this afternoon and I don’t have much time. You and I didn’t exchange numbers so I couldn’t call you and I didn’t want you sitting here, waiting for me and not knowing what had become of me. I’m so sorry but I only have a few minutes to have a cup of coffee with you. I hope you don’t mind.”
Jason/Jacob/Jeremy minded; I could see it in the flash of irritation in his eyes.
Whatever.
I didn’t have enough energy for Jason/Jacob/Jeremy’s irritation either.
“I’ll just run and get a latte,” I told him then, as he was opening his mouth probably to be a gentleman and offer to buy one for me which would make this friendly meeting into a semi-kinda-date, I dashed to the counter, stood in line and bought a small latte.
Then I went back to the table and quizzed him about what I should see in London. This lasted fifteen minutes. Several times, he attempted to ask questions about me or steer us in other directions but I kept him on target. I also sucked back my latte as fast as I could.
After the final sip, I quickly and rudely stood, announcing, “I know this is rude and thank you for giving your time to me. I really appreciate it. But I have to go. I’m so sorry.”
Then I stuck my hand at him, his head jerked to the side then he stood, disappointment on his face, and his hand closed around mine.
This kind of sucked. Standing there, his warm hand in mine, I noticed his grip was strong. I also noticed he was cute. Blond. A couple of inches taller than me. Nice eyes that were very blue. He dressed well in a layered, have to be ready for anything London type of way. He was nice as far as I could tell. And he was into me.
I just couldn’t go there. Not now. Not for awhile. Hopefully someday but at that moment or in any moment the last month, I wasn’t feeling good about that possibility.
And it was then that I got what Luci said about Gordo. Sam ruined me. The problem was, Sam was still breathing so I figured it was going to be just as hard as it was for Luci to move on. Maybe harder.
Jason/Jacob/Jeremy regained my attention by saying, “It was nice to meet you, Kia.”
He got the message. He didn’t ask for my number. He didn’t ask to meet again. He knew he wasn’t getting anywhere.
I debated telling him that the most beautiful, wonderful, sweet, loyal, fabulous man in the world broke my heart just a month ago so he would get it wasn’t him, it was me.
But I decided I probably couldn’t do that without bursting into tears so I figured I should just save him time and get the heck out of there.
“Thank you for having a cup of coffee with me. Take care,” I whispered.
Then I smiled. Then I pulled my hand from his warm grasp.
Then I got the hell out of there.
Luckily, it still wasn’t raining. Nevertheless, I rushed back to Celeste and Thomas’s. It was only a ten minute walk but I didn’t want to get caught in the rain. The wet seemed to hang in the air, waiting, threatening. It could happen any minute.
But also, Celeste and Thomas were away for the day, doing something with the team Thomas oversaw at work and their spouses. So I had the house to myself. I wasn’t good with being alone, alone made my heart hurt (more) and the thoughts that invaded when I was alone made my head hurt (more) but I was in the mood. I might even call Luci. We had only chatted briefly a couple of times because Luci got just as angry at Sam as Skip was when I called her from Indiana to tell her what was going on and I wasn’t in a place to deal with that. Now, maybe, I was strong enough to tell her I wasn’t and she could fill me in on what was happening with her.
That would be good. Take my mind off things.
I left the busy sidewalks, moved through the less busy residential section and the feeling came back that someone was watching me. No, it was more than that. It felt like someone was following me. I looked again but couldn’t see anything. Then I wondered if I should look at all. If some weird person was following me, maybe I shouldn’t let on that I knew they were there.
Maybe I should just get my behind to Celeste and Thomas’s, get inside and lock the door.
So I quickened my pace trying not to look like I was. But by the time I got up the steps to their white Georgian house, I was freaked out. It was silly, no one was following me, that was ridiculous but I still was freaked out. Totally.
God, I needed to get myself together. I was becoming paranoid.
What was up with that?
I’d reached into my purse and pulled out the keys two doors before Celeste and Thomas’s so they were at the ready. But my hands were shaking as I tried to insert the key in the latch. Therefore, I dropped them, squelched an expletive and bent to retrieve them.
When I straightened, my shoulder slammed into something hard.
Oh God, no. Someone was following me.
A surprised, small cry escaped my lips and my head twisted just as I felt the keys ripped from my hand. Fear coursed through me, I was preparing to do something defensive, I had no clue what, when my eyes hit Sam.
Sam.
A stony-faced, infuriated Sam.
Oh. My. God.
Before I knew it and without a word, the latch was open, the door was open and Sam’s big body was crowding me into Celeste and Thomas’s entry hall. Sam pushed the door closed behind us, the latch caught but I didn’t even get my mouth open before his long fingers curled around my bicep and he propelled me down the hall and into the first room on the left, the sitting room. He pulled me in, let me go and turned to close the door.
I backed across the room.
He turned back to me and his eyes seared into me.
I stopped dead.
“You’re… fucking… dating?” he clipped.
Oh shit.
It was Sam who was following me.
“No,” I whispered.
“Sweetheart, saw you meet him, saw him touch you, saw you drink coffee with him. He crashed and burned but that was not two friends having a fuckin’ chat.”
Oh man.
He was angry. Really angry.
He was also here.
What was he doing here?
Following me!
Forcing his way into Celeste and Thomas’s home and being angry at me!
“What are you doing here?” I asked quietly, unable to make my voice louder, hardly able to catch a thought. Heck, hardly able to breathe.
“What am I doing here?” Sam repeated.
“Yes,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“You’re here,” Sam stated and there it went. My breath. Gone.
It took effort but I forced oxygen into my lungs and asked cautiously, “Didn’t you get my note?”
“Oh yeah,” he murmured in a way that sent chills up my spine, his eyes changing in a way that scared the beejeezus out of me and he took a step toward me. “I got your fuckin’ note.”
I stepped back, my entire body trembling. He saw it and stopped.
“I won’t hurt you, Kia, and you fuckin’ know that,” he growled, close to the edge, I knew it by his face, his posture, the energy vibrating off him and his tone.
“No I don’t, Sam, because you already did, you’ve all but destroyed me but you didn’t lift a hand to me to do it.”
Yes. That was what I said. It came right out.
His head jerked then he stared at me, the anger shifting clean from his features and I saw him swallow.
I reached inwardly for everything I had, gathered it close, straightened my spine but still only managed to whisper, “I can’t do it. We’re over. I can’t give everything and get pieces. I can’t live with secret phone conversations and you taking off for parts unknown. I loved what we had, I tried to live with it, I thought it was enough, but it wasn’t. Living every day with another secret. Knowing the day before there were more. Wondering if the next day will mean you’ll walk away from me. Understanding in my heart that you can’t trust me with pieces of your life. I know they’re dark but I don’t care. I didn’t just want your light, your power, your strength. I wanted all of you. I asked for it. I fought for it. But you kept it from me and you did it willingly knowing I needed it. I’m sorry, Sam, I’ve made my decision. I thought I could do it but I was wrong. It’s all or nothing.”
He didn’t speak.
I did.
“I’m sorry.” It was my turn to swallow then I forced out, “You need to leave.”
Sam didn’t move.
I waited.
He still didn’t move. Not a muscle. Not even his eyes leaving me.
God. Really. He had to get out of there. He was killing me.
“Really,” I whispered and the word broke in the middle. Sam closed his eyes the instant he heard it but I pushed past it, somehow managed to keep my shit together and went on, “Please, Sam, just go.”
He opened his eyes and they locked on me, the intensity was there, more than ever before which was saying something. It was firing his eyes so blazing it was a wonder the room didn’t catch fire.
“Go,” I whispered.
Sam didn’t move.
I was losing the battle with my emotion. I wasn’t strong enough for this. I hadn’t had enough time to get to that place and tears filled my eyes.
“Please,” I begged brokenly, “just fucking go.”
I couldn’t stop it and a tear slid down my cheek.
Sam watched it go.
Then his eyes shot to mine.
“He died in my arms.”
I blinked then I froze. Completely. Head-to-toe.
Sam kept speaking.
“Bled all over me, his blood so warm, swear to Christ, I actually felt his life draining out, leaking all over me.”
Oh God.
He was talking about Gordo.
“Sam –” I whispered.
He cut me off with, “Nine words.”
He said no more.
“Nine words?” I asked quietly.
“His last words. There were only nine.”
I waited, my heart beating hard, not wanting to hear it, needing to.
It took some time but then he gave it to me.
Everything.
“He said, ‘Love you, man. Tell my wife I love her.’”
The tears came back and didn’t hover. They just fell over and slid down my cheeks one right after the other.
Sam kept talking.
“Then he died. Said those nine words then he was gone. Fuckin’ watched the light die in his eyes. Just blinked right out. I will never forget that. How he was there, Gordo, my boy, lookin’ at me and not even a second later, just a blink, he was gone for-fuckin’-ever.”
“Honey,” I whispered.
“Then I had to go tell Luci that shit.”
Oh God.
“I did it and watched the light go out in her eyes too.”
Oh God!
“Didn’t matter to her that his last thought on this earth was that he loved her and he wanted her to know that. All she could feel was that he was gone. All she knew was that she had him, all of him, so much, he’s in a goddamned chopper, the blood leakin’ outta him and him loving her is the last thing that fills his mind then suddenly, in a fuckin’ blink, all that was gone because he was gone.”
“Sam,” I said, stepping toward him but I stopped when he stepped back.
My heart skipped.
He had never moved away from me.
“Told Felicia too,” he declared.
Felicia?
I blinked then whispered, “Who?”
“Ben’s girl. The one I told you about whose friends puked in my car. Only girl he had. They hooked up when he was fifteen, she was fourteen. Got tight fast, stayed tight. She gave herself to him when she was fifteen. He asked her to marry him when she was eighteen. He was focused on his career, his education, givin’ her the life she didn’t have, the life he didn’t have. Thought he had forever to do it. He didn’t. He died before he could do it. And it was me who had to tell her he was gone. Three days after we put him in the ground, she overdosed.”
My hand flew out and I backed up until I caught a chair, steadied myself and stopped.
Sam watched me move but he didn’t. He just kept talking.
“Found her almost too late. Ma did. Her folks were whack jobs, her entire fuckin’ family, dicks and bitches. The lot of them. All she had was us. Ma was worried about her so she went to check on her. Thank Christ she did. Ma called the ambulance and then she called me. Shit was in her system. They nearly didn’t get her to the hospital in time. Then it was touch and go if she did damage to her body, her brain. She survived. She came out unscathed. She’s married now, has a kid, another one on the way. But every time I see her, every time I speak to her, the last thing she says to me is, ‘You know, he’s not Ben.’ She lives that. Her husband lives it. He’s second best to a dead man and he knows it. He tries. He loves her so he tries. Still, I do not see good things.”
“I can imagine,” I said gently.
Sam kept going like I didn’t speak.
“I thought I could take up his work where he left off. I thought, I did what he intended to do, he’d live on. But that shit keeps going. There’s always a fuckin’ enemy. There’s always a fuckin’ assignment. Idiots in suits, most of ‘em who don’t even care enough to expend the energy to walk down the hall, sit in their leather chairs and speak for their people, tellin’ men and women where to go, taking them from their families, putting them in danger, getting their legs blown off, making them bleed. That work will never be done. I gave up what I loved doin’ to take up Ben’s fight and I fuckin’ failed.”
“You didn’t fail,” I assured him softly.
“Yeah? We at war?”
I pressed my lips together.
“We’re always at war, Kia, even when we’re not. I’m trained to kill and I’ve done it, hand to hand. The light goin’ outta Gordo’s eyes was not the only light I’ve seen go out. I’ve made that light go out, with intent, and in the end I don’t fuckin’ know why.”
“To make people safe, honey,” I told him.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I held onto that. I held onto the fact that the men at my side, taking my back, were men the caliber you cannot conceive. Honor wears a uniform.”
“Yes,” I whispered back.
“You have that, you get out, you get lost.”
My heart skipped again.
“Lost?” I prompted when he didn’t go on.
“Lost. I loved playin’ ball but I never missed the pads and jersey. I fuckin’ missed the uniform.”
My fingers clenched the chair. “Then why’d you get out, baby?”
“Because I didn’t understand what I was doin’ anymore, I only knew I respected who I was doin’ it with.”
That was a good answer.
I was silent.
Sam wasn’t.
“They found Gordo first. A unit. Private firm. Buddies of ours. Men we knew. Men we respected. Ex-Rangers, Night Stalkers, SEALs, Green Berets. Gordo recruited me. Pay was huge. Assignments dangerous but worthwhile and infrequent. We were doin’ a K and R extraction when he bought it.”
“K and R?”
“Kidnap and Ransom. Kid was seventeen. They had him for three weeks. We went in, small team, elite, four of us. But intel was faulty. We didn’t know that and that was unusual. They had six times our number and they were heavily armed, serious shit, shit no one has but terrorists, drug cartels and militaries. It was a far bigger operation than we thought. By the time we made it to where they were keepin’ the kid, we couldn’t abort. We got him. He was weak, I was carrying him out, Gordo had my back, he always fuckin’ had my back. He was providing cover fire. Then he stopped and I knew why. I got the kid to the chopper and went back for Gordo.”
Oh God.
I didn’t want to hear this but more, I didn’t want Sam to relive it. I had enough; he didn’t need to give me more. Suddenly, I didn’t need everything.
“Sam –”
He kept talking, intent on giving it all.
“It was stupid, against all my training but I couldn’t leave him behind. He was my boy. He was Gordo. He wanted me to teach his sons football. I wanted him to stand up with me when I found a woman who was worth it. I got in, I got to him and I did it by killing twelve men. Twelve. That’s a lot of blood on my hands but I didn’t care. They were filth and he was still breathing. He took three to the back. He had my back, no one had his and he took three. For me.”
The weight he carried, my God, so fucking heavy. How did he bear it?
“Baby –”
“I got him home.”
“Sam –”
Suddenly he moved and he did it so fast, his big frame coming at me, my only thought was retreat and I did. Going back I kept doing it until I hit wall and I hit it hard.
Then Sam’s body hit me, pressing me in, his hands came to my jaw and his fingers dug in, his face in my face, so close, the world melted away and it was only him and me.
“Love you, man. Tell my wife I love her,” he whispered.
That haunted him.
It haunted him.
Gordo was haunting him.
The tears formed and slid down my cheeks again as my hands lifted and fisted in his shirt.
“Baby –” I started.
“Love you, man. Tell my wife I love her.”
“Sam –”
“Felicia, broken. Luci, broken. I didn’t want to break you.”
Oh God!
I went up on my toes as my hands slid up to his neck, fingers curling around and digging deep.
“Honey, let me –”
“He had that in his death. Ben, no doubt, no fuckin’ doubt thought about Felicia in his final moments. I can take that. Fuck, I buy it, I want that, my last thoughts on this earth to be of you. But they didn’t know. They had no fuckin’ clue what they left behind. I knew. I lived that shit twice. And I was not going to do that to you.”
“Please, Sam. I –”
“I love you, Kia.”
My breath left me and I stared. I wasn’t breathing but my eyes were still forming tears and they were falling.
Sam’s thumbs slipped through them but his eyes didn’t leave mine when he semi-repeated, “I love you, baby.”
“Sam,” I breathed then said no more. I had no words to say. I couldn’t even think.
I could only feel.
And what I felt felt fucking great.
“You cannot leave me,” he whispered, his hands tightening on my face and he repeated, “You cannot leave me.”
“Okay,” I whispered back, my hands tightening too.
He either didn’t hear me or decided to ignore me because he continued.
“You walked into that dining room, baby, and you know, the minute I saw you, I wanted to fuck you. Two days later, I saw you outside havin’ a drink and even before you looked at me with tears in your eyes, just when I saw you sittin’ there, I was annoyed, thought you were playin’ games, and I didn’t care. Just you sittin’ there I knew it was you.”
He knew it was me.
Me.
I closed my eyes.
“Look at me,” Sam ordered quietly and I opened them. “Weeks after that, Kia, I saw you standing in my kitchen writing a grocery list, doing nothing, just writing a grocery list. But you’d just made me laugh and, just like you, you made me do it hard. That shit with Gordo, with Luci, losin’ Ben, Felicia tryin’ to off herself, that shit’s too much, it wears you down. I hadn’t laughed like that in months, not since Gordo died and in that moment, you in the kitchen, I realized I did it all the time with you. There were times before, a lot of them, I’d look at you and feel your pull, so strong. I wanted to fight it, deny it but I couldn’t, you wouldn’t let me and I didn’t get it. But seein’ you standing in my kitchen, effortlessly beautiful, writing a fuckin’ grocery list after you made me laugh like that, I knew what it was. I got it. I knew it was more. I knew that wasn’t an offer. That was a promise. Even with all the shit goin’ down with you, shit that would wear any other woman down, it didn’t with you and you gave me that from the beginning. And it hit me then that was what my life would be like if I lived the whole of it with you. And I knew I couldn’t live without you.”
Oh. My. God.
He couldn’t live without me.
His face got close. “You cannot leave me. You can’t. I can’t live without you.”
He couldn’t live without me.
He was in hell, just like me.
And just like he did for me, I showed him heaven.
“Sam,” I whispered, melting into him, “I said okay.”
“Never,” he returned immediately.
“Sorry?”
“Promise you will never leave me.”
“Sam, honey, I love you.”
“But you left me.”
“Right, because you left me. But now you’re back and you just gave me all of you. I needed it; you came all the way to England and gave it to me so now that I have you, all of you, I promise you, honey, I will never leave you.”
He stared at me and I let him.
Then he said, “You went on a date.”
Oh man.
“It wasn’t a date,” I told him.
“Looked like a date,” he told me.
“Well, it wasn’t. We had coffee. I was only there fifteen minutes. That’s not a date.”
“So who was he?”
“Some guy I met at a museum. He was nice, friendly, asked me for coffee so he could tell me what parts of London I should see. He’s from here.”
“It was a date.”
I felt my eyes narrow and snapped, “Sam! He was just being friendly!”
“To you, because you’re clueless about bein’ beautiful. To him, he wanted in there.”
He was, of course, right.
But…
Seriously?
We just had a month of separation and an emotionally charged drama and we were here?
I took my hands from his neck and planted them on my hips.
“Honestly? I see you for the first time in a month, I think we’re over, my heart is broken, I cry myself to sleep every… single… freaking night knowing I’ll never have all of you, wanting all of you so much it hurts to breathe and knowing even what you gave me will be better than what I could get from anybody, worried that I made a huge mistake but knowing in my heart that I couldn’t live with the secrets. Then you come back, give me all of you then you give me shit about some stupid guy who means nothing to me, so much of nothing I didn’t even remember his name. A guy who I will never again see instead of, oh… I don’t know,” I said the last sarcastically, “maybe kissing me?”
Sam glared at me.
Then his gaze shifted over my features, his face went soft, his eyes went warm, his lips twitched and his hands slid back into my hair.
“You didn’t remember his name?” he asked.
“No,” I snapped.
His lips twitched again.
Seriously!
Then he whispered, “You want me to kiss you, baby?”
It was my turn to glare at him and I returned, “I did. Now I’m thinking, not so much.”
His lip twitch turned into a smile as his hands in my hair tilted my head one way, his head slanted the other and his lips muttered against mine, “Tough.”
Then he kissed me.
It was heaven.
* * * * *
Naked, lying next to a naked Sam in his huge, posh hotel room, my cheek to his shoulder, I was drawing random patterns on his chest with my fingertips while my eyes watched.
Sam was drawing random patterns on my hip but I doubted his eyes were watching.
After Sam kissed me, he dragged me out of the house, down the street and he hailed a cab. Then he shoved me in it, told the driver his hotel and ordered me to text Celeste to let her know I wouldn’t be home until the next morning. Late the next morning. And when I went there, it was only to pick up my stuff.
I texted Celeste, the taxi took us to Sam’s hotel then Sam dragged me out of the cab and up to his room.
The door barely closed before he was kissing me. Half my clothes were gone before we got to the bed.
And there we stayed for hours as Sam welcomed me home and I returned the favor.
Now was now.
And I was watching my hand move on his fantastic chest thinking a year ago I had nothing and now I had everything.
Everything.
And I wasn’t talking about millions of dollars, a ridiculously expensive robe and a beach house.
All that could be gone and the man who was lying beside me all that was left and I’d still be a girl with everything.
On this thought, Sam’s voice came to me.
“You want it all?”
I stopped drawing, lifted my head and looked at him to see his eyes on me.
They were sober.
All he gave me before, he wasn’t done.
Oh man.
Well, the only answer to his question was affirmative.
I wanted it all. The dark, the light, the good, the bad, the laughter, the fights.
All of it.
When it came to Sam, I was greedy that way.
So I lifted up, shifted and then settled down mostly on his chest, my gaze never leaving his.
Then I whispered, “Yes.”
“I’m in a situation.”
Great. He was not an ex-commando, he was a current one.
This could mean anything.
“What situation?” I asked carefully.
“Got a dead best friend, a dead brother and now, lyin’ on me, a woman who’s worth it. I don’t need the money so I don’t need the work. It’s time to leave the unit.”
Thank you, God.
Thank you, God.
I didn’t verbalize this thought or, say, get up and dance around the room.
I just nodded.
“So what do I do?” Sam asked.
When he said no more, I asked back, “Is this an essay question or are you going to give me multiple choice?”
He grinned then both his arms wrapped around me and he pulled me full on him.
I left a hand at the warmth of his chest but wrapped my other one around his neck, my thumb moving lazily against the stubble of his square jaw and he spoke.
“Three offers from three different networks. They’ve been on the table awhile. They know the others are gunnin’ for me and they keep pushin’ it. I thought they’d back down but they haven’t. They think I’m playin’ hardball so they keep offerin’ more shit. Now the pay is off the charts.”
“Networks?”
“Television networks. Sports shows. One offer is to join a panel, Sunday game banter. One is for my own show, once a week for the football season, talk about football, have guests, shit like that. One is to be the man on the field and in the locker room, interview coaches and players.”
Although for your average man, your not-so-average man and your seriously cool man, all of these sounded awesome.
But I could not see Sam doing any of them. In fact, it kinda weirded me out in a bad way just to think about it.
This must have been written on my face because Sam’s arms got tight around me and he burst out laughing.
I watched.
I missed that.
And he loved it that I gave him that.
I missed it so much and I knew he loved it so much that it actually hurt having it back. It wasn’t a beautiful pain, it was just pain.
I wasted a month of our lives and it hurt.
It wasn’t stupid, I followed my heart and it led Sam back to me, all of him.
Still, it hurt.
Sam stopped laughing and his eyes focused back on me when he explained, “Your face, honey, says exactly what I keep thinkin’.”
“Okay so A, B and C are out. Is there a D?” I asked.
“Got an offer to be the Defensive Coordinator for an NFL team. Again, pay is good but it doesn’t have to be. I got all that I need and if I didn’t, my woman is loaded.”
That got him a grin.
Sam grinned back.
“Well, that sounds like you like the idea better but you’re obviously not doing cartwheels about it,” I noted.
Sam’s grin got bigger as he told me, “Never did a cartwheel in my life.”
“Mental cartwheels,” I explained.
“Never did those either.”
“Sam!” I snapped, slapping his chest. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” he kept grinning then his face grew thoughtful. “They’re dumpin’ the guy they got. He’s performing, it’s politics. The head coach doesn’t like him and the head coach is not performing. Thinks he’s competition and he’d be right. Higher ups aren’t smart enough to see the head coach is talkin’ them into dumpin’ the only talent they have on the coaching squad. I do not need that shit in my life.”
“No, you don’t,” I agreed. “Is there possibly a choice F?”
That was when Sam’s face grew even more thoughtful.
“Talked to Tanner,” he said and I thought I knew where he was going. Sam was thinking about becoming a private investigator which would be cool… ish. It also might continue to be dangerous which was something I wasn’t a big fan of.
“And?”
“His boys play ball. Their coach just got heaved. Physically abused his son right on the field then did some other crazy shit and now he’s in prison.”
Whoa.
“College?” I asked.
“High school,” he answered and I blinked.
“High school?” I queried. “A high school in Indiana?”
I didn’t know what to think about this. Would we sell the beach house?
I didn’t want to sell the beach house.
“No, baby, they promoted from within. Those boys are already training. That’s not an option.”
My face dipped closer to his and I said softly, “It would be an option for Sampson Cooper. Any high school program would consider you for their coach. They’d freaking love it.”
“I use my name and celebrity without anything to prove I got what it takes, the coaching squad won’t love it and if I don’t have a decent team loyal to me at my back, the boys pay.”
I was confused.
“So this isn’t option F?”
“I told you that because it gave me the idea. The Kingston Wildcats’ coach retired last season after twenty years. They hired a new guy out of Texas. Their training has started too. When I got home two days ago, found you gone, took off to find you. But while I was home, one thing I did learn ‘cause Skip talked to Hap, Hap made some inquiries and Skip, Hap and Luci were waitin’ for me at the beach house when I got home.”
Uh-oh.
Sam went on.
“Hap and Luci were itchin’ to lay into me, plain to see, but they didn’t get in a word. Skip chewed me out then after I told all of them to take a hike, they didn’t. I left them on the deck, found your note, made my own decision. They all followed me in, I told them I had shit to see to, they got it, cooled off and then Skip shared that the new coach was already caught helpin’ kids to get juiced so he’s out on his ass. The team has no coach. The old guy came outta retirement to take up the reins again and he loves the game but when you make a decision that it’s the end, it’s the end. His heart isn’t in it. He wants to be fishin’.”
I decided it was best to process the Skip/Hap/Luci drama at a later date and asked, “So do you want to coach a high school football team?”
“My degree is in education and I never used it.”
I smiled at him. “So you want to coach a high school football team.”
He stared at me.
Then he said quietly, “That’s when it’s exciting. The boys are young, they know what they’re doin’ but they still got a lot to learn. They’re hungry. College, part of ‘em is hard, part of ‘em is soft and greedy. It’s about the game just as much as it’s about tail and, if you’re good, money. My coach in high school was the shit. He taught me early that I should always focus on the game.” He smiled then continued, “That’s not to say I didn’t take my share of tail and wasn’t glad to get the money but all the way to the pros, it was about the game, the team, winning. Having that served me well when I enlisted. I already understood team. I understood focus. I understood doing what it takes to win.”
“So coach high school football.”
His arms gave me a squeeze and his face got serious.
“Baby, this is it, this is us, you and me, that’s the future. You wanna tie yourself to a high school football coach?”
All right.
That pissed me right… the fuck… off.
And Sam saw it or felt it or both.
“Kia?” he called.
“You know, it sucks you’re big, tall, strong and fast because I’d like to get a punch in right about now and I figure you have the skills to deflect it.”
His brows drew together. “Come again?”
“Sam,” I hissed, my face getting super close to his. “You told me you had a burning desire to clean toilets, sure, that would kinda freak me out but if that’s what you wanted to do, I would not care. Be a janitor. Be a high school football coach. Have your own network talk show. Build Zen gardens. I don’t care. If this is it, you and me, that’s all I need. Just as long as I’m me and you’re Sam and we’re happy. What you just asked is about Sampson Cooper and I’m not in love with him.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“Yes it was.”
He stared at me.
Then he grinned.
Then he muttered, “Fuck, it was.”
I rolled my eyes.
Sam rolled me to my back with him on top of me.
Then he asked, “You’re cool with me being a janitor?”
I rolled my eyes again.
Sam’s body shaking with laughter shook mine and I rolled my eyes back to him.
Then, in all seriousness, I answered, “Yes.”
Sam’s laughter died.
Then with warm intensity in his eyes, he whispered, “Fuck, I love you.”
My anger died and my arms slid around him.
Then I smiled at him.
Then I whispered back, “Good.”