Standing on her porch, his hair poking out from the wind and rain, a dark expression on his face, was Sam.
She hadn’t seen him since this morning’s soccer game. They’d both pretended not to see each other, and she’d left early, pleading a headache—which hadn’t been much of a stretch. Fortunately, Claire had offered to give Molly a ride back. They had noticed her somber mood and had miraculously showed restraint and not pestered her with questions.
But now Sam was at her door. Her heart betrayed her feelings as it pounded hard in her chest. She opened the door.
He looked grim. And wet. “Can I come in?”
She was still so hurt by his omission these past few days that she would have liked nothing more than the resolve to shut the door on his face. But who was she kidding? Seeing him there at her door felt…right. His presence was a comfort, even if she wanted to kick him. Or kiss him. She couldn’t figure which drive was stronger. So she opened the door for him.
“I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be. I should have told you as soon as I realized my mother wrote the letters,” he said as he walked past her.
She shut the door behind him. “Yes. You should have.”
“But I was certain that if we talked to Tiffany we would get the answers we needed. And I saw no reason to dredge up my mother’s painful past unless I needed to. I’m sorry if that decision hurt you.”
The hurt she’d felt eased. She was being ridiculous. It was his mother, for cripes sakes. Of course he’d try to protect her. And to be honest, Allie would have thought a whole lot less of him if he hadn’t.
“It’s okay, Sam.” Right now, she only wanted peace between them. She missed him. “She’s your mother. I get it. But no more secrets, okay? If we’re going to move forward together on this thing, I need to know you’ll tell me everything, no matter how uncomfortable.”
He nodded curtly. “I’ll try. You have to understand, though, trust doesn’t come easily for me. Not after all this crap.”
She co
uld understand that, especially when his parents, the family unit he’d grown up thinking of as perfect, had turned out to be anything but. They’d been lying to everyone, including him. His ex-girlfriend didn’t sound any better. Materialistic and shallow, a woman who intentionally got pregnant and then took off on him and their son without a word, for years. She headed over to the couch and took her seat again as he followed. “How long have you known about your mother and Mr. Williams?”
“I knew she had been unfaithful.” Without embellishment, he told her about the events that had taken place just before his graduation. A night that had shattered any illusions he’d harbored about his parents’ love for each other. “But I didn’t know who the man was, and I didn’t want to know. It wouldn’t have made any difference to me at that point. Maybe there were signs. I’ve been thinking back to those days, remembering the heavy, emotional toll Mr. Williams’s disappearance had on her. She barely got out of bed for a few days. But I was so angry with her and my father that I didn’t see the connection. I just wanted to get out of there.”
Allie saw the pain and guilt cross his face, and before thinking about what she was doing, she put her hand on his arm. “You were just a kid, Sam. You couldn’t have been expected to look out for her when you had no idea what she was going through. You were dealing with your own loss.”
He didn’t respond, but looked down at where her hand rested on his arm. She pulled back automatically, embarrassed. But he stopped her and grasped her hand in his. Warm. Large. Solid. His thumb rubbed softly across the top of it, and it felt…like heaven. She stifled her sigh and tried to focus on his face, his mouth, instead of dissolving in a puddle on the floor.
Which was probably a mistake.
“Allie. If you don’t stop staring at my mouth like that, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop.”
Her eyes flew to his. They appeared darker, more hypnotic, like dark gray clouds on a stormy day. She inhaled and took a step forward, so close she had to lift her head to see him. This was going to be as close to an invitation as she was ever going to give.
She was petrified.
A slight smile crossed his bleak features, and, in slow motion, Sam brought his head down. Pressed his lips to hers, all the while keeping her hand in his.
Oh, Lord. His mouth felt glorious, as did the thrumming pleasure that radiated low in her belly. Much, much lower. She opened her mouth instinctively to his warmth. And although this was a moment she’d imagined many times—and would like to be able to replay many times more—she was helpless to the fluttering of her eyelids as they closed. Leaving her to savor the whirling emotions building inside her.
His hand pulled her firmly next to him, and his other hand came to rest against the small of her back. Her body pressing into him felt amazing. As did his scent, his taste, surrounding her.
She wanted it to go on forever.
His kisses intensified, became more demanding, when he pressed his mouth to her throat, driving her need for more contact to a new high.
She wanted so much more. To hell with the consequences.
He pulled her onto his lap, and she wrapped her legs wantonly around him, feeling his own desperate need pressed there at her core. His hands gripped her backside, securing her before he stood and carried her to the bedroom.
Where he proceeded to be everything she could have ever dreamed of. And more.
So much more. Because whatever schoolgirl crush she’d had before was nothing next to the undeniable and overpowering love she felt for him now. And always.
…