Desperate Times (Boys of Silver Ridge 2)

“Those tits are mine,” Sam growls, giving my hand a tug so I tumble against him. My hands land on his chest, eyes locking with his. Desire swirls inside me and Sam looks down with hunger. “Let’s go home. If you’re not feeling well, you need a doctor to check you out.”

A smirk takes over my face. “Oh, I most definitely do.”“Do you want me to meet you for lunch tomorrow?” I snuggle deep down under the covers, still chilled even though Sam and I took a hot shower together.

“I’d love that,” he tells me, turning out the light and lying next to me. “Though I don’t have a specific lunch hour. It makes it hard for you to meet me unless you’re nearby. And I mean like in the hospital cafeteria.”

“That’s rough for you, isn’t it?”

He slips his arms around me and hooks one leg over mine. “I knew what I signed up for when I took a job at a trauma center.”

“Do you want to stay there long-term?”

“I don’t know,” he tells me. “I like it, and though I see a lot of tragedy, it’s rewarding, but the hours are grueling. I knew I’d never have a simple nine-to-five job working my line of medicine, but something a little less demanding and stressful would be ideal whenever I get around to—” He cuts off suddenly and tenses. I’m pretty sure he was going to allude to getting married and having a family. Does he not want that with me? No way. That doesn’t make sense. We’re not old, but it’s not like we’re in our early twenties either. I don’t expect him to propose tomorrow and knock me up the second the ring is on my finger, but I wouldn’t think the idea would make him pause.

That’s the reason we’re together, right?

This isn’t a fling. We’re serious about each other, and I think it’s obvious by him telling me he loves me and us flying halfway across the country to see each other. We think we have end-game potential…or at least I do.

“Around to what?” I ask, throat feeling raw again. I set a glass of water on the nightstand on my side of the bed, but I’m snuggled up next to Sam and don’t want to move.

“A family,” he says, voice tight. “I’d like to be as involved in my children’s lives as possible.”

I smile and close my eyes. “You’ll be a good dad.”

He tenses again. “I hope so.”

“You’ll be a hot dad too. All the other moms will want a piece of you.”

His lips brush against the back of my neck when he talks. “I’ll have you on my arm to make them all jealous.”

“So I’m the arm candy now?”

“I have always wanted a trophy wife.”

I laugh and then cough, hurting my throat even more. “Ugh,” I groan and break away from Sam to get a drink.

“Go to sleep,” he tells me gently when I lay back down. “You need to rest. Doctor’s orders.”

“Then I better listen.” I give him a quick kiss and lie down, falling asleep fast but waking frequently throughout the night with a super sore throat and a stuffy nose. I’m awake when Sam’s alarm goes off in the morning, and he brings me a glass of cold water before he leaves for work.

“I’m fine,” I tell him. “I’ll go back to sleep, and once I’m up and moving around, I’ll be fine.”

“You are the most congested when you first wake up. Take it easy today.”

“I will. I’m going to write, pack a bag for the weekend, and probably nap.”

“Sounds like it’s going to be a rough day.”

“Hah, right? How long does it take for you to drive to Silver Ridge from here?” I ask.

“About two hours.”

I wrinkle my nose. “It’s not that bad, but it’s not a quick drive uptown either. I’ll drive us so you can rest in the car.”

“Maybe. I should probably call my mom and tell her we’re coming.”

“You didn’t tell her yet?” I laugh. “I thought you texted her yesterday.”

“I meant to but forgot,” he admits with a shrug. “Well, not really. I put it off and then got distracted with fucking you on the counter.”

“We could always surprise her. That’s what I was going to do with my dad and sneak over after sunset and bang the windows and rattle the doors or something.”

“You want to scare him?”

I nod enthusiastically. “Yeah.”

“He’s getting older…make sure I’m there with you in case someone needs CPR.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Not funny.”

“Sneaking up an on a poor old man is mean, Chloe,” he teases. “And doesn’t your dad own guns?”

“Yeah, but Wendy doesn’t like them, so they’re locked in a safe in the basement. They don’t really do too much good in regards to a break-in. Though Balloon will give me away.”