Love Everlasting (Isle of Hope series Book 2) (28 page)

 

Chapter Thirty-Nine

 

The end.

Unleashing a contented sigh, Shannon sank back against her headboard, legs stiff from an afternoon of furious writing to meet her deadline. She stared at the last page of
Love Everlasting
on her computer screen, the novel her freelance editor had talked her into ghostwriting, and a heady smile curved on her lips. No, not the end—the beginning.

Just like for Sam and me.

She closed her laptop, the story between a princess and a playboy having taken a twist she hadn’t expected, providing a fairytale ending that made her heart sing. Not unlike her relationship with Sam, she supposed, where she hoped and prayed for a fairytale ending too.

Glancing at her alarm clock, she jumped up to get ready, heart thudding that in two short hours, she and Sam would go out on their first date. She put a hand to her stomach to quell the excitement churning and headed for the shower, more than well aware that a bit of worry was in the mix too. Her feelings for Sam were stronger than she ever dreamed possible, and certainly more than she ever wanted, but her trust factor came in a poor second. As her best friend, she trusted Sam with her life. But as a man who held her heart—and her life—in his hands? She fought off a cold ripple of concern that rained down along with the cold water in the shower.

Not so much.

Putting on the finishing touches of makeup she seldom wore, Shannon heard the doorbell ring, and grabbed her purse. She compelled herself to descend the steps far more slowly than the adrenaline that surged through her veins. But when she saw Sam laughing with Cat and her mom in the foyer, her tendons went limp at the back of her knees. Flashing a dimpled grin, he could have walked right off the runway in a tightly tailored charcoal fitted suit with a mauve silk tie, hands leisurely in his pockets as he towered over Cat and her mom. And when those deep umber eyes glanced up to connect with hers, she thought she might swoon, never more grateful for the banister that helped her stay up.

“Wow.” That’s all he said as she met him at the door, but his look of stark approval said far more, dusting her cheeks with a warmth that did a slow spiral throughout her entire body.

She didn’t even notice the flowers until Cat waved a long florist box in her face, dropping her jaw when her mother also held out a gold two-pound box of Godiva chocolates. “Oh, Sam, you didn’t have to do this,” she whispered, opening the floral box to reveal a dozen red roses.

He gave a shrug that came off more as an awkward schoolboy than a seasoned player. “Sure I did, Shan,” he said, the husky tenor of his voice assuring her he meant every word. “First dates should be special.” His eyes held an intensity that purled heat in her middle. “Especially when the girl is as special as you.”

From that moment on, the evening had been a whirl of wonder. Sam spoiled her rotten with dinner at Savannah’s finest restaurant followed by dancing at a trendy club, all culminating with a decadent dessert at Lulu’s. They’d wined, they’d dined, they’d laughed, they’d cried, all the while Sam treating her like a goddess for six incredible hours.
Which
produced more tingles than any romance novel she ever read or could write. Smiling, she released a satisfied sigh as he regaled her with a darling story about the flu-shot debacle with the Brinker twins.

Thank you, Lord, for the best night of my life!

The Vette veered onto her street, and her pulse surged till she thought she might faint.

Uh …
and
the most nerve-wracking! Because laughing and talking with Sam Cunningham was one thing, the easiest thing in the world for her to do. But the kisses that were sure to follow her evening of bliss? Shannon fought a gulp as Sam eased his car into her driveway. She was more nervous than a sixteen-year-old on a first date—hands clammy and the skin beneath her silk halter dress just as bad. When he finally turned off the car and angled her way, she was hyperventilating so fast, she prayed she wouldn’t pass out.

“I don’t want this night to end, Shannon,” he whispered, lacing his fingers through hers with a smoky look that stole all moisture from her throat. She held her breath, expecting him to kiss her, but he only grazed his fingers down the curve of her cheek. “Take a walk with me?”

A gust of relief rushed from her lungs as she nodded. He gave her hand a squeeze and got out to open her door. “I don’t know about you, Angel Eyes,” he said softly, securing her hand in his as they walked down Bluff Drive, “but this was one of the best nights I can remember.”

“Me too,” she whispered, the heat of Sam’s hand against hers making her warm all over. She peeked up with a shy smile, hardly able to believe she and Sam Cunningham were dating.

“You know what’s really freaky, Shan?” Pausing, he looped an arm around her waist to face her head-on. “One day we’re the best of friends, and then the next?” He feathered her hair away from her face while moonlight highlighted his handsome features. “I’m so head over heels, all I can think about is holding you …” His eyelids shuttered halfway as he traced her mouth with the pad of his thumb. “Kissing you …” Her stomach quivered when he bent in to gently skim his mouth against hers, the taste of him almost buckling her at the knees. As if sensing the effect he had, he groaned and clutched her closer, devouring her with a kiss so urgent, it completely consumed her, taking possession with a fierce urgency as if to stake his claim.

He pulled away, and the separation was almost a physical ache, her lips following as if he were a magnet. Eyes closed, her body swayed forward in a dizzy lean, desperate to recapture the sensation of his mouth. His husky chuckle lured her eyes open as he cupped her face in his hands. “You know, Shan, I thought a walk might be nice and safe, but I’m not sure anyplace would be safe when I’m with you.”

The heat pulsing through her converged in her cheeks as she nibbled on the edge of her lip. Her smile was shaky and shy, and she was quite sure the glow of love in her eyes was brighter than the harvest moon overhead. “I think I know now why they call you Dr. Love,” she said softly, the sigh that sifted through her lips as wobbly as her limbs. “That kiss was …” A warm shiver skittered across her bare shoulders, and she wasn’t sure whether it was the sea breeze or Sam. “Unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.”

“That’s because it’s not just a kiss,” he whispered, bowing his head to touch his forehead to hers, “it’s the gift of my heart, Shan, all wrapped up in the need to cherish both you and this fragile feeling inside that I never, ever expected.” His quiet sigh feathered her face. “After a lifetime adrift, you anchor me unlike anyone I’ve ever known, Shannon, and just being with you completely calms my soul.” He paused and she felt his smile rather than saw it. “Of course it would appear that you also stir my body with a passion that is anything
but
calm, Angel Eyes. Which,” he said, putting distance between them with a gentle brace of her arms, “is why I’m going to employ some of that famous will power I’ve fine-tuned over the last few months to avoid serious temptation.” He grazed her lips with a bare breeze of a kiss. “
And
Jack’s fist.”

Grinning at the reference to the teasing threat Jack had made when he discovered she and Sam planned to date, she stood on tiptoe to return a tender kiss of her own. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that, Sam, because I’m not sure I could survive too many kisses from the notorious Dr. Love. At least, not unscathed.”

He threaded his fingers into her hair to cradle her head with an intensity that stilled her, the unflinching sobriety in his eyes revealing the core of the man she’d come to love. “You have my word, Shannon, I will do everything in my power to try and never hurt you,” he whispered.

Try.
One word that reminded her there were no guarantees in love. But somehow she sensed Sam was different. He would never betray her like Eric, she just knew it. A shiver tiptoed down her spine.

Would he?

“You cold?” He took off his jacket before she could stop him and draped it over her shoulders, bundling her in a magical cocoon of his warmth and scent. “We should get you inside,” he said softly, “even though I really don’t want to go.”

“Hey …” She glanced up, the dark stubble on his jaw making him look like a pirate in the moonlight. “Ever been in a dory?”

One corner of his mouth jagged up. “I’ve never been in a boat, period.”

She blinked, mouth hanging open at the notion that Sam Cunningham, all-around sportsman and man about town, was a complete landlubber. “Never?”

His smile was sheepish. “Not even a canoe at Camp Hope,” he admitted, nudging her hair over her shoulder. “Still love me?”

“Mmm, I don’t know …” She wiggled free from his hold, a mock serious look on her face as she perched hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know I’m Queen of the Dory, mister, a title hard-won against both my brother and sister in a race timed by my father.”

A competitive spark lit in his eyes. “Ahhh … an overachiever. That’s my girl.” He trailed her lip with a glide of his thumb, his eyes following the motion before they connected with hers in a potent look that pooled heat in her belly. “Queen of the Dory, huh? So I’m in good hands if I ever go with you?”

She swallowed hard. “You won’t be in
any
hands, Dr. Cunningham, I promise, because I’m as adamant as you about not rocking the boat. Besides,” she said with a wiggle of brows, feeling as impish as Cat, “each person has to sit on his or her own bench seat several feet apart, so we don’t upset the balance.”

Stepping closer, he slid his hands into his coat and around her waist, a bob in his throat telling her he was feeling the intensity of attraction as much as she. “And we wouldn’t want to do that, would we?” he whispered, enfolding her in a hug before he deposited a kiss to her hair, finally resting his head on top of hers. She felt his chest expand and deflate. “This is going to be harder than I thought, Shan,” he said quietly, his shaky sigh feathering her hair.

Tell me about it
. Shannon slipped out of his jacket, handing it back before she took his hand. “Come on, Doc, your moonlight sail awaits.”

“Whoa, wait a minute ...” She practically bounced off his chest when he jerked her back, his body rooted to the street more firmly than the lampposts lining Bluff Drive. His brows lifted high as he put on his jacket. “You don’t mean
tonight
? In my good clothes and shoes?”

She giggled, his obvious reluctance making her grin. “Yes, tonight, mister, and I promise neither you nor your beloved wardrobe will get wet.”

“B-But … can’t we just sit on the dock?” His voice hitched as she dragged him across the street.

“Nope. The chairs are too close and the moonlight too tempting. It’s best in the dory, where we can enjoy the beauty of the night while we keep our distance.” She halted halfway down the ramp, brows in a scrunch. “You
can
swim, can’t you?”

“Oh, now there’s a confidence builder!” He eyed the row of Adirondack chairs with a look of longing. “Yes, I can swim, Teach, but just barely.”

“Don’t be such a baby, Sam.” She grinned while she retrieved two life jackets from the storage closet, kicking off her heels before leading him to the dory that was tied up to the side of the dock. “This will be an adventure you’ll never forget, I promise.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered, peering over the side with a suspicious squint.

She tossed the life jackets in the boat and hopped in, taking her position at the stern to lower the trolling motor into the water. “Come on, Sam, get in. We’ll just putt upstream a bit and float down. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

“You, I trust,” he said with a wary look, “but this sad excuse for a boat?” His smile went flat as he carefully removed his shoes, placing them beneath an Adirondack chair prior to methodically draping his jacket over the back. “Neither I nor my J. Crew loafers and favorite ‘trappings’ are feeling too cozy about this.” With painstaking care, he slipped his “preowned” Rolex watch into his blazer pocket, then began unbuttoning his Armani slim-fit dress shirt, the one he’d told her he only wore for special occasions.

“For goodness sake, Sam,” she said, watching as he took the shirt off, revealing a well-muscled T-shirt beneath. “We’re
not
going to get wet.”

He cocked a brow as he meticulously laid the shirt over his blazer. “Well, my prized wardrobe won’t, that’s for sure,” he said with a ghost of a smile, shocking her when he began to unbuckle his belt.

“Sam!” She jolted straight up in the dory, slapping a hand to her eyes while her stomach whirled like an eddy in the river. “What on earth are you doing?” she rasped, peeking through two fingers in case he planned to remove his trousers as well.

He grinned as he whipped off his belt, neatly coiling it before placing it on the seat of the chair. “Versace alligator—stiff price, but worth every penny.”

A knot ducked in her throat. “You
do
plan on leaving your trousers on, right?”

Hands perched low on his hips, he glanced down at perfectly pressed gray trousers, his little-boy grin sputtering her pulse. “Well, I don’t want to, Teach, but it might look suspect if they fish me out in my boxer briefs after I drown, you know?”

“You are
not
going to drown, Sam Cunningham!” Smiling, she shook her head.

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