Hot as Sin
Understanding suddenly flooded her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said, “sorry about everything.” Her eyes clouded with regret. “When I look back now, I can see what a scared, confused eighteen-year-old kid I was,” she admitted softly. “If I’d known what was going to happen, what leaving would do to both of us, I never would have …” She let the rest of her sentence fall away, saying instead, “You can’t beat yourself up for one bad choice, Sam.”
“It wasn’t one bad choice, it was a hundred bad choices. If it weren’t for Connor …”
He didn’t bother to finish his sentence. He’d saved her once, but she’d left him anyway. Maybe she’d only needed him to get away from her mother and out of the trailer park. Maybe not.
Either way, odds were, as soon as they found April, this rush of adrenaline—a rush that felt like desire and love—would dissipate.
And she’d walk away from him again.
“Look, I get why you’re thinking about second chances. You’ve survived two big accidents. But you were right when you said that we’ve changed. We’re in two different worlds now.”
Her eyes were flashing and he knew he was hurting her again with his harsh words, but it was better to sever the thin thread that remained between them now, rather than the mess of trying to untangle themselves later.
Climbing back into the raft, he said, “You ready to get going again? We don’t want to waste any more time.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IT WAS only Dianna’s years of learning to keep calm in front of the camera no matter what her guest was doing or saying that enabled her to steadily hold Sam’s gaze after he’d ripped her to shreds.
But on the inside, she was in pieces. Just as she’d been the day she’d left Lake Tahoe.
He was the only man who’d ever made her break her vow to depend only on herself. She couldn’t let herself do it again.
Take their conversation during lunch, for example. He’d gotten her to talk freely about April, about her career, but then when it was his turn to share, he’d clammed up and held her at arm’s length.
It hurt like hell to watch him be so guarded, to know that he didn’t want to trust her with what was in his heart. Yes, she now saw that she’d betrayed his trust all those years ago by leaving. But she’d been young and scared and stupid. Was her behavior as an eighteen-year-old really enough of an excuse for him to keep pushing her away?
She didn’t trust herself to speak as she climbed on to her side of the raft. They paddled for another thirty minutes in silence without any other disasters, but the small comfort zone they’d found during their lunch on the riverbank had been blown to smithereens by the sexual encounter and then their very unsatisfactory post-makeout discussion.
A short while later, Sam steered them back over to the edge of the river.
“This is as far as we go by water.”
She got off the raft, and as it deflated, he methodically laid out an overwhelming array of rock-climbing gear. Looking up at the quartz slab, which had to be several stories high, she was newly shaken.
How could she possibly climb a rock face with no experience … and a borderline fear of heights?
He held a harness out, clearly expecting her to step into it. But although she knew Sam was a man of few words, it didn’t seem the least bit fair that he should unilaterally decide to shut down their dialogue.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to shore up her insides for the roller coaster her words were about to launch.
“You might be done talking about what happened with us, Sam, but I’m not. You got to ask your big question; now it’s my turn.”
He was an impenetrable wall before her, his eyes shuttered, the lines of his body stiff and unyielding. There was no satisfaction in knowing that Sam was cornered, with no place to run.
“Go ahead.”
Working to project a serene confidence she certainly didn’t feel, she said, “If you cared so much about me that you fell apart when I left, then why didn’t you come after me?”
She held her breath as she waited for his response, her heart kicking up so fast she could have been sprinting, rather than standing still.
“I did come after you,” he finally admitted. “A couple of weeks after you left Lake Tahoe.”
Oh God, all this time she’d assumed that he’d been happy to see her go. Was there more to the story? Had she been wrong all these years?
Sam watched confusion, even doubt, run across Dianna’s beautiful face.
“But I never saw you,” she protested, before admitting, “I didn’t exactly make myself easy to find, did I?”
“I found you,” he said, his words harder than they should be.
Her hands moved to her chest, almost as if she felt the need to shield her heart from him.
“Then why didn’t you tell me you were there?”
He dropped the harness to the sand and moved away from her, remembering that unseasonably warm day in foggy San Francisco. He’d parked outside the return address on the letter from Dianna that he’d found in a pile of her mother’s unopened mail in the trailer. Donna hadn’t seemed to know—or care—that her daughter had broken up with her fiancée and skipped town, and Sam couldn’t help but wonder if Dianna was running away from more than just him.
He’d been about to get out of his truck when he saw her, walking out of the apartment building. Her hair was blonder, softer somehow. Her clothes were different. Fit her better than anything he’d ever seen her wear. Even her green eyes seemed brighter.
“You were already different,” he explained.
And then she’d waved at a skinny guy on a bike who came over to say hi and her smile was bigger than Sam could remember seeing. At least since the miscarriage.
“It wasn’t hard to figure out that you already had a new job. New friends. And it looked to me like your new world fit you so well, so much better than being some kid from a trailer park ever did.” He let out a long breath. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to walk away? To accept that you were finally in your right place?”
Dropping her hand from her chest, she reached out to him. “If I’d known you were there, then maybe I—”
“Maybe you would have what? Married me anyway and had a bunch of babies?” He scowled. “I don’t think so.”