“Are you trying to lower my expectations?”
“I’d really hate for you to be disappointed.”
With his fingers on her chin he tilted her face to meet his intense gaze. “You could wear a burlap sack, and I wouldn’t be disappointed—as long as you’re in it, and as long as I get to take it off you afterward.” He punctuated the statement with a sweet kiss.
Whenever he looked at her in that particular way, she positively melted. “Now you tell me! You couldn’t have saved me all those damned fittings by telling me that six weeks ago!”
That smile of his…
Whoa
, so potent.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Starved. What’s for dinner?”
“Roast chicken, mashed potatoes and vegetables.”
“When did you have time to roast a chicken?”
“The grocery store did the roasting. I just bought it and brought it home.”
“Which is the most important part of the equation. Smells great.”
He led her to the dining room, held her chair and poured her a glass of wine.
Sam couldn’t remember the last time one of them had cooked a meal at home. Lately they’d been grabbing meals here and there on the fly. There’d been none of the quality time she’d grown accustomed to since they’d been together.
The meal he’d prepared was tasty and filling, and they lingered over the bottle of white wine.
“Didn’t you have a campaign event tonight?”
“I postponed it. Told them I felt the flu coming on.”
“Why?”
“Because I had more important things to do tonight.”
“What things?”
“Dinner with you, for one.”
“Nick,” she said, touched by the gesture. “You’re in the middle of a campaign. You can’t be skipping important events.”
“If one missed cocktail party costs me the election, then it was never mine to begin with.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, a gesture so uniquely his that it never failed to set her heart to racing. “I’ve missed you. Things have been so hectic that we’ve barely seen each other. I hate that.”
“I’ve missed you too.” She linked their fingers. “It’s my fault.” Swallowing hard to fight back the swell of emotion that threatened to derail her, Sam forced herself to look at him, to
face
him. “I have this bad habit of retreating into myself after… You know.”
“It’s not entirely your fault, babe. I buried myself in work so I wouldn’t have time to think about it.”
“I hate that you’re hurting. And I hate that I couldn’t give you—”
“Don’t. Please don’t say that.” He tugged on her hand and drew her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. “You’ve given me so much, Samantha.” He released the clip that held her hair for work and let it rain down around them. “So, so much. More than I ever dreamed of having.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, surrounded by the clean, fresh scent of him. “I know how much you want a family of your own.”
“You’re the family I’ve never had. You’re far more than enough. I’ve told you that.”
“Still…”
“I’m worried about you, babe. I know it rocked you, and I should’ve been there for you rather than caught up in how it affected me. I’m sorry I wasn’t there the way I should’ve been.”
Tears filled her eyes. Whatever had she done to deserve this kind, wonderful man? Hearing that he’d ditched an important campaign event to spend the evening with her filled Sam with guilt over what she’d kept from him, and she knew she had to level with him.
“I did something today. Something I should’ve talked to you about before I did it.” The words were out before she could stop them—so much for her short-lived plan to wait until their honeymoon to talk to him about this.
Under her, his body went rigid. “What?”
“I saw Harry.”
“About?”
She lifted her head off his shoulder so she could see his face. “Birth control.”
His expression was so impassive that Sam couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking. “And?”
“He gave me a shot that lasts three months.”
Nick didn’t say anything for the longest time. “Oh,” he finally said. “I thought you wanted, I mean, I thought
we
wanted…”
“I do.
We
do. But I need to be stronger before we go there again. I was feeling desperate, and I went to him before I came to you, which was wrong. I know it was. I just… I need some time, Nick.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t understand that?”
“I was afraid you’d be disappointed, and I couldn’t bear that. Not again.”
“Sam, honey, when are you ever going to learn that you can’t possibly disappoint me? The only time you even come close is when you keep stuff from me. Important stuff that we should decide together.” The last part he said in a stern tone that got her attention, but when she ventured a glance at him, he was looking at her with nothing but love and concern.
“I’m working on that. I swear I am.”
He sighed, hugged her tighter and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through with four miscarriages. One about killed me.”
Hearing that and seeing the raw pain on his face made Sam wince. “Sometimes I wonder if it just isn’t in the cards for me.”
“If that’s the case, we have other options, and I’ve told you before I’m fine with adopting or hiring a surrogate. Whatever you want. We’ll figure it out when we’re ready.”
“I’m not sure I have it in me to try again.”
“Nothing has to be decided today.”
Sam took a moment, chose her words carefully and fought to keep her emotions out of the mix. “I want you to really understand, before you say ‘I do’ on Saturday, that it’s very possible I won’t want to try again to have a baby.”
“You might feel differently—”
Sam rested a finger over his lips. “And I might not. I need to know you’re okay with that. Discovering the plumbing actually works changes everything.”
“No, it doesn’t. I’ve told you all along that we’ll play this any way you want to play it.”
“You need to be sure.”
“I’m very sure that I love you, that I can’t possibly live without you and I’ll take you any way I can get you, even if we never have a baby the old-fashioned way.”
“You’re not mad about the shot?”
“I wish you’d talked to me about it first, but I understand why you did it. Just remember—whatever is going on, we can always find a way to work it out. Look at everything we’ve already gotten through together.”
“Our life can’t always be as wild as it’s been lately, can it?”
“Jesus, I hope not.”
Sam laughed and realized she felt lighter since she’d told him the truth. She should’ve known he would get it. Didn’t he always? “I love you,” she said. “I love you more than anything in this world.”
“I love you too, and I can’t wait until you’re my wife.”
“Only four more days—still time to change your mind,” she said with a teasing smile.
“Not happening.” He kissed her then with all the pent up passion and desire that had been put on hold the last few weeks. “Let’s make another deal,” he said when they resurfaced.
“What other deal?”
“The next time something happens—something bad or upsetting—let’s go through it together. Let’s not do it alone like we did this time.”
She nodded. “Deal.”
“How about a soak in the Jacuzzi?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, sighing at the thought of it. “Please.”
Even though she’d intended to spend the evening with the Gardner file, Sam couldn’t seem to work up the energy to get out of the tub. The combination of the warm water, the wine, the company and the clearing of the air with Nick had left her more relaxed than she’d been in weeks.
His finger tracing a circle on her arm drew her out of the languid state she’d drifted into. “What happened here?” he asked of the bruise.
“The shot.”
He winced. “Ouch,” he said, gently pressing his lips to the mark.
“All better.”
“You must’ve been truly desperate to subject yourself to a shot.”
Remembering the needle, Sam shuddered. “Truly.”
His lips continued to move on her arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “I’m sorry you let it get to that point. I wish you’d told me.”
She combed her fingers through his hair. “I know I should have. But to be honest, I was afraid you’d charm me out of it.”
“I might’ve tried.”
“I want so badly to give you a family, Nick.”
“A family doesn’t necessarily mean a baby.”
“What do you mean?”
He raised his eyes to meet hers, and the vulnerability she saw on his face touched her deeply. “I’ve been thinking… about Scotty.”
“So have I.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “You’re spending a lot of time driving back and forth to Richmond.”
Shrugging, Nick said, “I don’t mind. I love being with him.”
“I do too. He’s such a sweet kid.”
“I love how grateful he is for even the smallest kindness. He reminds me…”
“He reminds you of yourself, doesn’t he?”
Nodding, he said, “I know what it’s like to be alone in the world. Even though I had my grandmother, she didn’t want me around. I always knew that.”
Sam’s heart ached imagining Nick as a lonely little boy. “We could do so much for him.”
Nick took her hand and linked their fingers. “I think about that all the time. I can’t explain it, but the moment I met him I felt like I knew him.”
“What’re we going to do about that?”
“I have no idea. We barely have time for each other. Just because I’d love to swoop in and change his life, we have to be realistic. He could end up lonelier with us than he is now.”
“That wouldn’t happen.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he wouldn’t have just us. He’d have my dad and Celia and Ang and Spence and Jack and Tracy and Mike and their kids. Then there’re the O’Connors, your dad, his family. He’d be surrounded by our entire village.”
Nick sat up a little straighter. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I’m saying we should absolutely talk about it and be sure we’d be doing the right thing for all of us.”
“Once again, you surprise me, Samantha.”
She laughed. “Because I’m thinking the same thing you are? Why is that so surprising?”
“I was pretty sure you wouldn’t be all that into the idea.”
“From the first time I saw you with him, I knew he was going to be a part of us. I didn’t know how or what or when, but I could see that you love him.”
Nick reached out to caress her face and leaned in to kiss her. “Thank you for understanding.”
“We’ll do something about it.” She leaned into his embrace. “After the wedding. We’ll do something.”
“Ready to get out?”
“If we have to.”
“It’s getting late.” He got out first and reached for towels, wrapping one around his waist and holding the other for her. As he draped it around her, he brought her in close to him and held her for a long time.
“Thanks for staying home tonight,” she said.
“My pleasure.”
Smiling up at him, Sam ran her hands over his muscular chest. “Speaking of your pleasure…”
His cell phone rang in the bedroom, drawing a tortured groan from him. “That’s Christina.”
“How do you know?”
“She programmed in a special ring tone so I’d know it was her.”
Laughing, Sam said, “That’s clever of her. I should do that too.”
“You don’t need it.” He kissed her nose and then her lips. “I
always
take your calls. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.” Sam toweled off, combed her hair and brushed her teeth before she ventured into the bedroom and helped herself to one of Nick’s T-shirts. She grabbed her own phone and got in bed while Nick paced the room discussing the next day’s campaign stops with Christina.
Sam took advantage of him being occupied to text Harry:
I told him, so quit looking at me that way
. Smiling, she pressed send and awaited his reply.
Predictably, he fired right back.
What way am I looking at you?
The make-me-feel-guilty way.
Don’t blame me for your guilty conscience. What’d he say?
All the right things. As usual.
Good.
Sam was so glad Nick had friends like Harry to help fill the terrible void John O’Connor’s death had left in his life.
Any ill effects from the shot?
Just a bruise the wedding planner is freaking about. Thanks for helping me out
.
Any time. Get some sleep. Nothing worse than a bride with suitcases under her eyes
.
Very funny. See you Friday
.
Can’t wait.
“What’s got you all smiles?” Nick asked as he got in bed.
“Your buddy Harry. He’s quite the comedian.”
“Are you stepping out on me already? We’re not even married yet.”
“I like him. He’s a pain in my ass, but I like him anyway.”
“Everyone likes him. He’s a good guy.”
“How’d you meet him?”
“In the emergency room of all places.”
“Really?”
“About seven years ago, I broke my wrist playing hockey in a rec league. He was doing his ER rotation. We hit it off, and we’ve been friends ever since. I met Andy through him too,” he said of his lawyer friend who was also in their wedding party.
“Only you could break a bone and make a friend.”
“Two friends.”
“Which wrist did you break?”
He held up his left arm. “This one, thank God. I could still write and drive for the four months it was in a cast.”
“Four
months?
”
“Yep. I played years of high school and college hockey with only bumps and bruises. Then I join a league here just for fun. Roughest sons of bitches I ever played with. Happened in my second game with them.”
Sam took his left hand and studied his arm. “Is that where you got this?” She traced a finger over a faint scar.
“Uh huh. They had to pin it back together. Hurt like a mother.”
Sam planted a trail of kisses over the scar. “Do you still play?”
“Once in a while, but not in that league. I never played with them again.”
“I’d like to see you play.”
He smiled. “Yeah?”
“I bet you look hot out there.”
Drawing her in closer to him, he said, “You think so, huh?”
“I know so.” Sam rested her head against his chest, breathing him in. “I’ve really missed you.”
“I’ve missed
us
. You’re essential to me, Samantha.” With the tip of his finger he tipped her chin up and kissed her. “So very essential.”
Sam slipped her arms around his neck and fell into the kiss as all the worries of the day disappeared. As he held her tight against him, his tongue caressed hers, teasing and tempting until Sam was out of her mind with desire.
“Nick,” she said, gasping. “I want you.”
“I was thinking,” he said, his lips busy on her neck, “that since it’s been a while, maybe we should wait… until our wedding night.”
Her hand, which had been cruising down his chest, came to a stop on his belly. “You aren’t serious.”
“It’s been this long, what’s a few more days?”
She tilted her hips into his erection. “An eternity?”
He released a choppy laugh that told her how much this show of restraint was costing him.
Sam shifted her hand lower and wrapped it around him, stroking him.
His head fell back on the pillow, and his eyes drifted shut.
“You’re sure you want to wait?” she asked, kissing her way down his chest.
“Imagine how good our wedding night will be.”
“It’ll be good no matter what.” She bent her head and took him into her mouth.
“Oh,
God
, Sam.”
“Mmmm.” She took him deep and loved how he grew harder when she lashed him with her tongue.
“Babe,” he said, sounding desperate as his fingers tunneled into her hair. “Sam…”
“Relax,” she whispered. “Let it happen.”
All the oxygen seemed to leave his body in one long exhale. Sam smiled as she returned to the task at hand. She could tell from the tremble that rippled through him that he was close, so she stroked him harder and sucked him in.
He took in a sharp deep breath and broke out in a sweat. As she felt him reach the point of no return, she backed off and then took him up again.
“Payback is a bitch,” he said through gritted teeth.
Sam laughed and decided she’d tortured him enough. This time, she took him deep and right over, reveling in the cry of completion that seemed to come from his very soul.
“Son of a bitch,” he whispered, his chest heaving as Sam crawled on top of him. His arms encircled her, and his lips found her forehead. “Give me a minute to recover, and then I’m
so
getting you back for that.”
“Promises, promises.”
“That fresh mouth of yours…”
“You love my fresh mouth.”
He ran his fingers through her hair. “I sure do.”
“I’ve never done that for anyone else.”
“Done what?”
“The whole thing.”
“Samantha,” he said with a sigh as he very smoothly turned them so he was on top. He looked down at her with those amazing hazel eyes, and Sam had never felt more loved or cherished in her life. “We are so very lucky to have found each other—twice.”
She looped her arms around his neck. “So lucky. Don’t ever let me go, okay?”
“No chance of that.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Do you?”
“I do,” she said.
He smiled at her choice of words. “Does this mean we’re married now?”
“In all the ways that matter.” She tilted her hips against his reawakened erection. “So that makes this our wedding night.”
“Nice try,” he said as he removed her T-shirt and kissed his way to her breasts.
“Nick…”
“Relax, honey,” he said, chuckling. “Let it happen.”
Even though she was always consciously aware that the nightmare had returned, she was never able to pull herself out of it in time to keep from hearing the screams or seeing the blood. Every time her subconscious forced her to relive one of the worst nights of her life, Sam tried to change the outcome.
If I can get to Quentin before he’s hit, maybe, maybe I can get him out of there
, she would think as she ran through the decrepit house where Marquis Johnson kept his crack stash. Sam ran as fast as she could, calling for Quentin. The rest of her team was behind her, and she heard them yelling for her to wait for them.
“Don’t shoot,” she cried. “Hold your fire!” Now, with the benefit of hindsight, she knew how it would end. This time, she could change everything by not allowing her officers to return fire. She could go back and rewrite history to make it come out the way it should have the first time.
“Marquis!” Sam said. “Get Quentin out of here!” Her command was met with silence. Sam inched along the hallway toward the bedroom where all hell had broken loose that fateful night. “Marquis, please. Let him go before he gets hurt.”
A muffled cry stopped her heart. Oh, God, it was happening again. She couldn’t bear to see that adorable, innocent little boy covered in blood as his shrieking father held his lifeless body.
Rounding the final corner before the back bedroom, Sam gripped her weapon with both hands and extended it in front of her. She should wait for Freddie and the others to catch up to her, but a second muffled cry had her rushing into the room where Darius Gardner had Nick in a chokehold, a gun pressed to his temple. Duct tape covered Nick’s mouth. His arms and legs were bound.
Nick’s eyes met hers, and Sam faltered. She could see and smell his fear. Blood ran down the side of his face, forcing him to blink to keep it out of his eye. “Darius,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “Please. Let him go.”
“Faith told you not to butt into my life.” He drove the gun harder into Nick’s head, drawing a moan from Nick that tore at Sam. “You should’ve listened to her.”
“Don’t hurt him,” Sam said. “I’m the one you want. Let him go, and take me.”
Nick let out a low growl and fought against Darius’s hold.
It all happened so fast. One minute Sam was pleading with Darius. In the next instant, the gun fired and Nick went down. She ran for him, screaming his name, but something held her back, keeping her from him. Sam struggled against the arms that held her tight.
“Babe, wake up. You’re dreaming.” His lips moved on her face as sobs shook her body.
The sheer, overwhelming relief at realizing it had been a terrible dream left her weak and clinging to him.
“Shhh,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
She breathed in his scent, letting the beat of his heart calm and comfort her.
“Want to talk about it?”
Shaking her head, she drew in another deep breath as the implications spiraled through her mind. In all the months since the crack house shooting, the dream had never changed. Until now. What did it mean?
During the course of her career, she’d been threatened plenty of times. Never once had a threat caused her to back down from an investigation. But she’d never had quite so much to lose. What if someone seriously threatened Nick’s life? What would she do?
Nick combed his fingers through her hair.
She nuzzled his chest and kissed his throat. The images from the dream kept running through her mind, making her shudder.
As he tightened his arms around her, Sam realized there was absolutely nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure his safety—including back off an investigation if it came to that.