CHAPTER 17
Refreshed and relaxed from a nice, long, hot bath, Sam made her way through the hallway, following the incredible aroma that was filling every corner of every room. Her heart stopped ever so briefly, stunned and flattered by the sight before her in her living room—ivory colored candles of every shape and size bejeweled every available surface around the room, granting a certain ambiance of enchantment and romance.
As she scanned the room, eyes welling over, she took in the floral arrangement that sat in the middle of the buffet. It was surrounded by the mouthwatering feast he had prepared for her that rested adjacent to couch he had set up for her comfort. Nobody had ever gone to such lengths for her. If she weren’t already head over heels for him, this would have sealed the deal in a heartbeat; how incredibly charming. Her life was becoming nothing short of a swoon worthy fairy tale.
He walked into the room, her frilly apron around his waist, each hand adorned in a pink flowery oven mitt, holding more plates of delicious smelling food that may or may not be the reason why her mouth was watering. Stopping dead in his tracks, shocked to see her standing there, he looked down at his hands and apron before giving her a sheepish grin and raised eyebrow.
“Oh, I thought you were still in the…bath.”
“Nice outfit. Did Ellie dress you?”
“Oh, uh, yeah, funny. So, I thought I would have all this set up before you…”
“Its fine, Dawson. It’s lovely, really.”
“I thought sitting in the living room would be more comfortable for you.”
He had a bashfulness about him that she had not seen before tonight, almost shy, so utterly adorable and endearing. She was flattered by his efforts and attentiveness; he planned this night completely for and around her circumstance, leaving her absolutely giddy. Her big, sexy, six plus foot, behemoth of a man’s man, standing before her, in pink, flowers, and frills melted her heart, made her warm in all the right places, but it also made her laugh out loud.
“You’re really helping my ego,” he muttered sarcastically.
“I’m sorry. It’s the pink and the frill. You’re basically in a pink flowery dress. So pretty!”
Her subtle chuckle turned to roaring laughter as his fists found his halfcocked hips, and his front foot began to tap like a scolding mother to a toddler. He turned on one foot, nose in the air, and left for the kitchen in an obvious pout while she fell to the couch behind her, unable to contain herself, healing ribs beginning to ache. She hadn’t laughed like that in a great while. Laughter was healing, despite the pain. He was good for her.
The next several hours were spent indulging in the amazing meal he had prepared and sharing the details of their lives they had yet to exchange. His story broke her heart and made sense of the person he was. He lost his entire family, those he loved most in this world, in a most tragic way.
After a disagreement with his father about joining the ranks of the family business that he had zero interest in, he was prompted to delay his trip a day to Aspen where they would spend the holidays as usual, the only one to skip the flight while he got his wits about him. He was left with tremendous guilt when their plane went down in the mountains in a freak accident, just before reaching their destination, leaving no survivors.
How cliché was that? The man who spent his entire life with deep rooted desires, a calling if you will, to help others and rescue anything, from a stray cat to a dismally injured person, couldn’t do anything to help those he loved most. His disconnected affections, when she met him, made absolute sense. This is why he didn’t date
and never saw the same woman twice. He was a great friend to those in their circle, but he had boundaries and kept everyone at arm’s length, until now.
Honored to be the one he let in, she vowed to never take it for granted. He was an alpha, take charge, hunky guy on the outside, but what she found on the inside was a sweet, caring, selfless man who was as gentle as he was thoughtful. It was in that moment that she realized this relationship
, which had yet to be fully defined, was as much a risk for Dawson as it was for her.
Sharing his story with Sam was freeing. He had not really spoken of it with anyone, until now. Discussing it, hearing it out loud somehow put it to rest, after a decade; he would never forget, nor would he be haunted by it anymore. She allowed him that freedom, the ability to leave it behind and move on, without boundaries, and truly live for the first time in years.
She didn’t judge him, didn’t cast blame, just listened and sympathized. Ironic, he thought, that two people with such binding, life hindering pasts could find each other, and heal one another. The only two people in their confined world who didn’t date
needed each other to move on with their lives. Fate had clearly intervened.
She filled all that he didn’t realize was missing or empty; she completed him. She understood loss through her own experience, so she understood him. She grieved a father she never really knew and a mother who chose men over her at every turn. Abandoned and lonely, she related to his guarded heart because she was guarded. Their lives were perfectly paralleled through differing fortuity, yet still mirrored each other’s in a predestined connection.
“Wow! That…was…amazing!” Sam said, leaning back into the pillows, hands over her stomach, indicating just how amazing and filling it was.
“I can’t take all the credit! It was Lou’s meat sauce recipe and Baker’s provided the bread and Tiramisu, but that salad, it was all me!” He offered proudly. Still learning his way around the kitchen, he would take whatever credit he could get.
“The salad was the best part, though!” She prided, allowing him a heroic kitchen win. It truly was a great salad, so he deserved a pat on the back, even if it was really the pasta, bread, and dessert that sealed the deal and added ten pounds to her waistline just by looking at them. It may not have been his recipe, but he killed it in the kitchen tonight, and that counted for something.
“I think you are trying to make up for that dress comment,” he fussed, obviously not ready to let her off the hook for her teasing, even if he too found it funny. No, he was going to let this one ride and see where it got him.
“Maybe. Seriously though, this was an amazing night. You went to a lot of trouble, made all of my favorites. No one has ever done that for me—thank you,” she said, all jokes aside. He really had gone above and beyond for her, and without trying. It was just him and what he did, a quality she found so true to who Dawson really was.
He leaned in and gave her a passionate kiss before removing what was left of their dishes and dessert, and putting them in their designated spots in the kitchen, which he had already cleaned after he finished preparing their meals. No distractions, that was the goal, not even dishes. Her words lingered as he dove into thought about what she had said—nobody had ever done this for her.
It saddened him, that thought, that such a little gesture went so far with her, and that he was the first to ever do it. She deserved nights like tonight, many of them, time and time again. He was committed to making that magic happen for her, as often as she would let him.
When he returned to her in the living room, he found her staring out the window with a distant melancholy look about her. Afraid the progress they had made was somehow lost, a subtle sense of insecurity settled in as he approached her, ready to fix whatever was broken in her world at the moment. Seeing her like this hurt him as much as anything could. He was so invested in her that even her emotions affected him.
He questioned her, hoping his insecurity wasn’t apparent, but that his genuine concern was. “Sam?”
“I’m fine.” The spell broken, she slowly turned to him with a faint smile, which was covered in what looked like sadness, when her eyes began to shine and tears threatened to spill over. “I’m just…being silly.”
“You can talk to me,” he stated, desperate to fix whatever was plaguing her. “What just took you away from here and left you…left you, not you?”
“This,” she said, waving a single arm in front of her, indicating everything before her.
Dawson’s heart sank at her admission. He thought they had made certain progress, that this
was going well, and both were engaged in whatever this
was. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand, I thought…”
She cut him off before he could say another word, realizing she was sending mixed signals and giving him a false sense that there was a problem. There was no problem, and that
was the problem. “Dawson, it’s not what you are thinking. I’m sorry; I’m just a mess these days. This isn’t me. I’m normally much more together and a hell of a lot less needy and nutty.”
He chuckled at her response, understanding that there were more layers to get through, and they had only reached the top. She was nervous, but why? “You can talk to me; you can tell me anything. Let me help, Sam.”
There was that faint smile, and the threatening tears finally breached their barrier, streaming her face. Oh, shit! We have tears. “I know, and that’s just it. You. You are amazing
. This
is amazing,” she finished, waving her arms again as if everything that represented them, and their relationship was in that very room, and she wanted him to see it.
“Oh. I see. Okay, I don’t see! I don’t understand what the problem is; help me understand, so I can help.” He was frustrated but tried to keep it at bay. He was still new to this relationship
stuff and didn’t quite speak emotional woman fluently.
Hands to her face, she looked down and shook her head with a dry chuckle, realizing she was all over the place, not even certain she was making sense to herself or how to explain this feeling, this fear. “I’m sorry; I guess I’m just programmed to expect the worst, to expect this to end. I’m not exactly a fairy tale come true kind of girl.” Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. She knew Dawson wasn’t her father, nor her mother, or even the father of an unborn Ellie, but the damage they had done seemed to hover in this moment. “I’m happy, Dawson, so deeply and painfully, blissfully happy, and I’m afraid to be. I’m just waiting for you to leave, and I don’t want you to.”
He took the seat beside her and pulled her to his lap where he held her close, kissing her forehead. “Sam, I’m not going anywhere. I am not leaving.”
Tears in full motion, nearly sobbing, she rested her head on his shoulder, wanting desperately to believe him, and wishing she didn’t feel so foolish wearing her emotions on her sleeve, or rather streaming down her cheeks as they were. “You make me happy. You make me feel safe, despite what has happened. You just came in here, swept me off my feet, swept Ellie
off her
feet…I’m afraid to be this kind of happy.” She paused as her voice shrank to a mere whisper, “It hasn’t worked out well for me before.”
He stopped her, held her face, wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, then said everything she needed to know with a deep passionate kiss that was so full of meaning, full of intent. He took pride in her words and felt relieved that their biggest obstacle right now was that she didn’t want him to leave, which was easy, because he wasn’t going anywhere. “All I want
is for you and El to be happy. I want to make
you happy. You have my heart, Sam; you both do, probably more so than I yours.”
The admission was as stunning to him as it was her. He really was ready to show all his cards, let her know he was all in, for good. “I could never hurt you. My life is better because of you. You give me purpose and joy. I feel like the luckiest guy to have you two in my life. You are my whole world, Sam. I love…”
Before he could finish his declaration, she had her arms around his neck, mouth to his, understanding and accepting everything he just put on the table. He lifted her with him, hands on her waist, when she said, “Me too.”
His bold smile and raised eyebrows gave everything away as their moods changed with the relief her words offered. As he pulled her closer and lifted her in the air, tossing her legs around his waist, he headed toward the hallway to her bedroom. With her head tossed back, chuckling at his playfulness, he found her neck and made his way down her collar bone before she hollered, “Candles!”
Stopping dead in his tracks, he quickly turned back to the room, arms full of Sam, blowing out each candle while still holding her, until the last candle. He grabbed the final candle and handed it to her without blowing it out. “We’re taking this one with us.”