CHAPTER 19
XANDER
Even if my life had been completely fucked up, I was feeling like today was my lucky day.
Yesterday, Samantha had given my sorry ass one more chance to show her that I was willing to do anything to keep her in my life.
And I sure as hell wasn’t wasting it.
We’d slept in separate beds last night because she wanted to take it slow. Although that decision didn’t sit well with me, I would just have to man up and deal with it. Sex wasn’t all I needed from her. I had to have more. A lot more. I needed her trust, and that was something I was going to have to earn.
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been good at spilling my guts to anybody, even my brothers. Being vulnerable, making somebody that important to my happiness, was too damn scary. Once a dude turned that power over to a woman, they had the ammunition to crush a guy into a million different pieces because they knew his weaknesses.
Nope.
I hated the very idea of giving anybody that much control over me.
But letting Samantha know me was going to be important to sharing a future together. And we were going to be together. Sam had crept into my soul, and if she left, I’d never come outside of myself again.
“What are you doing?” a sleepy voice asked from the door of my recording studio.
I hadn’t progressed very far. I had my favorite guitar on my lap, and I’d strummed a few chords, but as Sam swept into my space, my whole fucking morning improved immensely.
“Trying,” I answered honestly. In truth, I’d been sitting here for over an hour, but most of my thoughts were about the beautiful woman who’d just appeared in person, a cup of coffee in her hand and yawning like she hadn’t slept well.
She smiled, and damned if that didn’t make my cock spring instantly to life.
“You got a haircut. Did you go to town?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. You said I needed a haircut.” I’d cut off just about anything to make her happy. Well, almost anything.
She moved in next to me, and then ran her fingers through my short hair. Honestly, I liked it short. But getting it chopped hadn’t been important enough to make me go into town.
Until today.
Until her.
“You look incredibly handsome. I can see your gorgeous eyes better now,” she observed.
Hell, the “handsome” comment had made it worth fighting my fear to get my ass into the barbershop. I’d intentionally gone early to avoid the crowds.
“You should have woken me. I would have gone with you,” she murmured as she pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“If I would have come into your bedroom, I wouldn’t have left the house,” I informed her. “I don’t have that kind of willpower.”
She laughed, a musical sound that echoed through the room and entered my heart. I realized that I’d hardly heard Samantha laugh since I’d met her. Not that she’d really had much to be amused about. I’d been such an asshole, and I’d given her no reason to be happy.
“I got you something,” I said as I stretched to grab a pink box off the desk next to me.
Her face lit up, and once again I was reminded of how little I’d given her. “It’s not a big deal, but I think you’ll like it.”
She took the box. “It’s heavy.”
“It’s from the best pastry shop in town. Happy birthday, Samantha.”
She squealed with excitement as she popped the lid. “Oh. My. God.”
“It’s just a cake.”
She pointed at the contents in the box. “This does not look like ‘just a cake’ at all. It looks like an amazing chocolate confection that just might drive me crazy with ecstasy.”
Well. Shit. I didn’t think it was possible to be jealous of a damn cake, but I thought I just might be envious of her covetous expression as she gazed at the triple-layer chocolate dessert with excitement.
I put my guitar down carefully and stood up. “Who’s cutting it?”
“Me,” she said as she led the way into the kitchen. “But I’ll share.”
I shook my head as I followed her, wondering how I’d gotten so insane over a female shrink who was slightly OCD when it came to being clean and organized, plus totally obsessed with cake.
I smirked, resigned to my fate. There were so many things to adore about Samantha, which included her quirks.
I just wished she didn’t mess with people’s heads for a living. But if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be Sam, so I’d deal with her profession.
I leaned a hip against the counter as I watched her cut two pieces of cake, then hand me one on a plate, complete with a fork to dig in.
Stopping to watch her as she closed her eyes for the first bite, I decided I’d buy her a different damn cake every single day if she’d look just like she did right now every single morning. She looked like she was about to climax.
Her look of ecstasy made my dick grow painfully hard as I watched her chew slowly, like she was savoring the taste of chocolate as she tipped her head back slightly. When she finally swallowed, she moaned. “Xander, that was amazing.”
Jesus. Fucking. Help. Me.
I’d give my right nut to hear her say that after I’d pounded into her until she lost herself to pleasure.
I tore my eyes away from her and took a bite from my own plate. “It’s good,” I commented after I’d swallowed.
“Good? It’s fantastic. I’d love to know what makes the frosting this smooth and creamy.”
I had no idea what was in the confection we were eating, but I was fucking determined to find out so I could smear it all over my body just so she’d lick it off. There was no way I was going to be able to keep my hands off her, so I was going to have to find some way to tempt her.
“Thank you,” she said huskily as she poured herself another cup of coffee.
“It’s no big deal.”
“It’s a very big deal,” she contradicted. “It was really thoughtful.”
Christ! Had I been such a prick that she thought a simple, inexpensive gift was meaningful? Hell, maybe I had, and it was a slap in the face about how shabbily I’d treated her.
“If it makes you happy, I’ll get you another one tomorrow,” I suggested as I reached for a mug so I could get a cup of coffee. “I tried to find wild blueberry, too, but no luck.”
She took the cup, poured me some of the brew she’d obviously made before seeking me out, then handed it back to me. “No!” she ordered. “Absolutely not. I already walk like crazy to make up for my cake addiction.”
“You like to work out?” I asked curiously.
“I hate it,” she said with a sigh. “But walking every day here, and cleaning up after you, has kept my weight steady. In New York, I stopped by the bakery fairly often, or I baked. I had to work out.”
I swallowed the last of the cake I’d scarfed down, then told her, “We’re going to town tonight. It’s your birthday. I’d like to take you out to dinner.”
Sam stopped midchew to look at me in surprise. After she continued and swallowed, she asked, “You’d do that for me?”
I shrugged. “It’s your birthday, and you said yourself that I need to rejoin society. We can go to Liam’s place. It’s not fancy, but he has the best lobster rolls in Maine. My brothers brought me some a few months back.”
Samantha finished her dessert, then put both of our plates in the dishwasher. “It’s been a long time since anybody has really celebrated my birthday.”
I viewed the melancholy look on her face, and the loneliness in her tone hit me like a sledgehammer.
She has no family anymore.
There’s nobody special in her life.
Nobody has made her birthday important.
“We’re celebrating,” I said gruffly, determined to give her a birthday she’d never forget.
Maybe I didn’t have a lot of time to plan, but I’d make her happy if it killed me.
She beamed at me. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. I don’t know how you can stand not to be outside, especially in the summer. And I haven’t had a chance to really see the town yet.”
I wasn’t exactly excited about strolling through town in the summer with all the tourists around, but I suddenly realized that it might not be so bad with Samantha beside me. “You want to go check out the town before we eat?”
Now why in the hell did I suggest that?
Sam threw her arms around me and hugged me enthusiastically. “Yes. Yes. I’d love to do that.”
Okay, that answered my question. Anytime I could get her to press that delectable body against me, it was worth whatever I had to do in order to get her in my arms.
I wrapped my arms around her and breathed in her tantalizing scent. “Then we’ll go.”
She moved back, which was a complete disappointment, as she said, “How did your practice go?”
I shook my head. “No practice. Just a couple of chords. I’m actually really blocked, Samantha. I don’t know if I can play at the end of the summer. I don’t think I can go back to my old life. I’m different.”
She frowned. “I put a lot of pressure on you. I’m sorry. But I have no doubt you can still be just as creative as you used to be. You don’t lose that talent, Xander. And it’s okay if you don’t want your old life anymore. However, I want you to be able to decide that on your own terms. I don’t want you to not go back because you think you can’t. I want you to consciously make that choice just because it’s not what you want.”
She was right. I did want my music back. It had been such an enormous part of my life for so long that there was an empty space inside where my creativity should be. And if I made the choice to quit, I did want to actually make that choice. I didn’t want to just run away because I didn’t think I could perform anymore. “How did you get so smart?” I asked.
“Years of screwing with people’s brains, and other higher education,” she said jokingly.
“It takes a long time to be a psychologist,” I pondered. “Years of school.”
“Yes. Until about three years ago, I’d spent all my adult life as a student.”
“How did you get through school alone?”
“Financially?” she questioned.
I nodded.
“It wasn’t easy. My parents didn’t have much after everything was paid off. They had still been raising three kids at home. I had to work a ton of hours, and I never got much sleep. I used student loans that I think I’ll be paying for the rest of my life. But it was worth it.”
I grinned at her. “When did you know you wanted to mess with people’s minds?”
“Honestly, I didn’t decide what I wanted to do until I went through my own pain of losing my family. I was barely starting college when they all died. I had a good counselor who helped me through my trauma, and I decided I wanted to study psychology so that I could help other people get through their own battles.”
Damn! Samantha was an amazing woman. Most people wanted to run away from bad experiences, just the way I had. But not her. She ran toward helping other people.
“Your music helped me, Xander,” she told me softly. “It spoke to me. I don’t know why, but it helped me through those years when I felt so damn alone.”
I was humbled by the fact that anything I’d done had helped to drag her out of her misery. “I’m glad,” I answered huskily. “I think I could write some stuff now that you could really relate to. That is, if I could fucking write again.”
“You will,” she answered confidently.
“How do you know? What if I can’t?”
“I refuse to believe your talent is gone. As one of your biggest fans, I won’t accept it.”
The fact that Samantha supported me meant more than I could express to her. “I hope I don’t let you down. I’m just not feeling it.”
She moved close to me again and stroked a soft hand over my cheek, once again showing no reaction to the scars on my face. I honestly was starting to believe she didn’t see them, and she accepted me, scars and all. “Don’t try so hard. I have faith that once you accept that your music had nothing to do with your parents’ deaths, it will all come back.”
“Logically, I think I know that now.” I reached up and clasped her hand in mine, holding it against my face. “But I’m still not feeling it.”
“Then let’s find you some inspiration,” she suggested. “Let’s get out and find the good things in life.”
“You’re one of those good things, Samantha,” I admitted. “I’m not sure how in the hell you got here, but I’m so fucking glad you did.”
“I think I knew you needed me,” she answered, pulling her hand away from mine slowly. “I’ve been in a similar place to where you are now.”
“But you didn’t run away like a coward,” I answered.
“Didn’t I? For a while, I think I did. I retreated from the world, just like you did. I was so depressed that I didn’t want to get up in the morning. It’s been a decade for me, Xander, and although the acute pain is gone, I still think about my family almost every day. I still miss them.”
My gut reaction was to make sure Samantha was never alone again. Jesus! I still didn’t know how she’d been strong enough to survive. “I know you do, sweetheart.”
“I finally decided that the last thing they’d want me to do is wallow in my own misery. So I got help. I didn’t get better in a short period of time, but it does get easier. Eventually, I felt better just by doing things in their memory. Maybe that’s why I chose my career path. Maybe helping other people actually helped me, too.”
“Your book will help a lot of people.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” she answered. “I’m not really a writer. I’m kind of nervous.”
I shrugged. “You know exactly what to say to help people. Just write from your experience and education. I have faith in you.”
She moved up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck, and God, it felt good. “Just like I have faith that your music will come back.”
I wrapped my arms tightly against her waist so she couldn’t escape. She was changing my life, and it scared the hell out of me, yet I couldn’t run away this time. Samantha meant everything to me, and when she was in my arms, I felt like I was holding my whole fucking life.
There was no way I wasn’t going to kiss her. I needed the feel of that sexy damn mouth on mine. Holding the back of her head, I swooped down and captured her lips, not happy until my tongue was twisted with hers, and my hands were caressing down her back and over her ass.
She willingly surrendered to me, giving me the sustenance that I was craving.
Mine! This woman is so fucking mine.
Both of us came out of the passionate embrace panting for breath, and when she laid her head on my chest, I felt like a damn god.
There wasn’t a thing I wouldn’t do to make her happy. She deserved it. And for the first time in a long time, I was beginning to think I might become worthy of happiness, too.