Dirty Little Secret

Things might not be completely back to normal between us all, but they’re on the way and knowing Orion supports us… I feel lighter than I have in days.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Samson

“Should I have gotten your parents a gift?”

“For their anniversary?” Stella asks.

“Yeah.” I continue inching down the road the Cartwrights live off of, low-key wondering if I have time to hit up the mall before dinner. “I was reading online that thirty years is pearls—whatever that means—but all I have for them is a card and the knowledge I’m sleeping with their only daughter.”

I can tell she tries to fight it, but judging from her red cheeks and rolled lips, it’s a losing battle. My girl cracks up.

“It isn’t funny, Luna.”

“It kind of is.” She reaches over and takes my hand. “Plus, I put your name on the card for my gift.”

I glance at her out of the side of my eyes. “That seems like a big deal.”

She does this cute little shoulder shimmy and grins. “We’re a big deal, Samson Carter. Now, put your foot on the gas or we’ll be late.”

I press my foot down harder on the accelerator. “Thirty years is a long time.”

“It is,” Stella agrees, but I can tell something is on her mind.

“What’s wrong?”

She looks toward me and frowns. “Nothing.”

“Something.”

She huffs. “Fine. I was wondering if you envisioned us making it that far.”

“Stella.” I swing my truck into their driveway and throw it into park. “What part of always don’t you get? You’re. Mine. I have every intention of putting a ring on your finger and a baby or two in your belly. I’ve said this more than once—but I’ll say it as many times as it takes… I love you. My future is with you. Only you, always you. Got it?”

She smiles softly. “Yeah, Samson, I got it.”

“Good.” I put the truck back into gear and continue down the driveway.

I pull in next to Orion, kill the engine, and then rush around to help Stella down from my truck. I’ve suggested taking her car countless times, but she insists on me driving my truck, with the excuse of me being too tall to fit comfortably.

“Can you grab the gift bag from the back seat?” She pulls her jacket tighter around her body as the wind blows.

“Of course.” I retrieve the gift and then offer her my arm for added stability.

“You ready?” she asks as we approach the front door.

I look down at her, my cheeks lifting as I grin. “Hell, yeah I am.”

And I am—in more ways than one. I’m ready for tonight, but I’m ready for the rest of our lives together too. I’m ready for Stella to take my last name and to call my house home. I’m ready for us to have a whole gaggle of kids that look just like her.

I’m ready for it all with Stella Cartwright.

“Mom, Dad, we’re here.”

“In the kitchen,” her mom calls. “And who’s we? I didn’t know you were bringing—” Mrs. Cartwright’s jaw clamps shut when Stella and I enter the room, hand in hand. “Oh… oh my.”

“Hey, Mrs. C.” I give her my best smile. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Hello, Samson.” Her eyes dart back and forth between her daughter and me. “This… this is new.”

“Not as new as you think,” Orion says, moving to the left of his mom to grab a glass from the dishwasher.

“What?” She whirls around to face him.

“I’m just saying.” He shuffles over to the fridge and pulls out the pitcher of tea. “It threw me for a loop at first too, but it’s not new.”

“Use ice, I just brewed the tea.” She turns back to us with her hands on her hips. “Someone needs to explain this to me.”

The back door opens and Mr. Cartwright steps into the kitchen. “I thought I heard your truck.” He turns to his daughter, oblivious to the tension brewing. “How’s your ankle?”

“It’s good. A little sore, but good.” Stella shifts on her feet. “Honestly, this boot makes my knee and hip hurt more than anything.”

I watch as understanding dawns on Lizzie’s face; she whips around to face her husband. “Did you know?” she hisses.

Stella tightens her hold on my hand and tugs. “Samson.”

I lean down so she can whisper to me. “What’s up?”

“I don’t think my mom is happy.” The disappointment in her voice guts me.

“She’s not mad we’re together, Luna. She’s upset she was the last to know.”

“You think?”

“How could no one tell me?” Mrs. Cartwright throws her arms wide, glaring at all of us.

“We’re sorry, Mom.”

“As you should be,” Lizzie says.

“Are… are you angry?” Stella’s lower lip wobbles.

A fact her mom notices immediately. “Oh, Stella, no.”

“You sound mad.” She’s clinging to me now, like I’m the only thing keeping her upright.

Lizzie races around the island to us. “Stella, sweetheart. I’m not mad. Not at all. Well, not at you anyway.” She glares at her husband over her shoulder. Looks like Michael’s in the doghouse for not spilling the beans. “I’m delighted you and Samson are together. Truly, I couldn’t think of anyone better for either of you.”