And
now here Gwenyth stood, next to the man she loved, and she had it within her
grasp to make Sam a real member of the Jones family. To give Sam Trevianni a
place he could finally call home. To give him the chance to realize that there
were people who loved him, not for what he could give them, but because he was
simply Sam. And then, perhaps, he would realize that he loved her back.
That
quickly, Gwenyth's decision was made. She wouldn't back away from this
challenge. What had begun as a sad day, had evolved into the most profoundly
poignant moment of her life. Today, here and now, she would give them both a
chance to grasp for the moon and the stars together. "Yes, Sam." She
reached out for his hand and stroked it gently. "Yes, I'll marry
you."
* * * * *
Sam
gazed toward the hotel room bed that his wife lay sleeping on and felt his
heartbeat pick up all over again. Gwenyth was his. Somehow or another he'd done
it, he'd claimed her. And he was already lovin' every last minute of it.
It
was strange to Sam, the small things that now held a great deal of meaning.
Like watching his wife sleep.
His
wife
, he thought possessively.
No other man, for as long as Sam lived and breathed, would ever see Cupcake
like this again. It aroused him just knowing it.
Hell,
Sam mused, it seemed
that everything
had been arousing him in the
whopping six hours of their marriage. He'd even gotten a hard-on from signing
the hotel's guest registry as "Mr. & Mrs. Sam Trevianni". And
when they'd gotten to their suite and he'd seen the shiny glint of gold from
the band on her ring finger... well, Sam could honestly say that he had loved
his new wife's body well and proper on their wedding night. Twice already to be
exact.
Sam
climbed into bed next to Gwenyth, wishing like he didn't know what that they
didn't have to go back to Tampa tomorrow. He wanted Gwen to himself for just a
wee bit more before being obliged to return to reality.
But
Sam also realized, however reluctantly, that their honeymoon would have to
wait. The senatorial election was in two days and Gwen would want to be there for
Harry. Hell, Sam wanted to be there for Harry his self. He was, after all, a
part of the family now. That thought gave him so much pleasure it was almost
painful.
Sam
turned on his side and hoisted his self up on his elbow. He smiled at the sexy
picture Gwenyth made. His wife was lying on her back, her lips parted ever so
slightly in deep slumber. Her hair was wild and cascading over the satiny
pillows, and her arms were thrown over her head, thrusting her breasts upward
in invitation. Her large nipples were erect, presumably from the chill in the
air-conditioned room.
Sam
splayed his fingers at Gwen's plumped up breasts and took turns rolling her
hard nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He made no attempt at waking
her, merely devoured the sight of her beautiful face and naked body as he
lazily stroked the hard nubs that now belonged to him.
Feeling
fully contented for the first time in his life, Sam lowered his face onto his
wife's chest and relaxed. Within minutes, he was sound asleep.
After
thirty-four years, Sam had finally come home.
"Son,
I oughta take a switch to your backside. Did it ever occur to you that I might
wanna walk my baby girl down the aisle?"
Gwenyth
shoveled a spoonful of Verlene's chili into her mouth to keep from laughing out
loud. The idea of Granddad—almost seventy-three and as skinny as a rail to
boot—taking a switch to Sam's derriere was too funny to contemplate. She cast a
quick glance at her husband, bedeviling him with a dimpled grin.
Sam
winked at his wife, then turned in his seat at the dining room table to face
Granddad Willy. "I'm sorry 'bout that," he reiterated for what was
probably the fifth time since dinner had begun. "Maybe we can have a
ceremony here before we leave for Boston."
Gwenyth's
spoon dropped, leaving a clanking sound in its wake. She hadn't considered the
fact that Sam was obligated to the New England Crusaders for another two years
when she'd married him. Good grief. She had
Jones
& Jones
to
consider. She could hardly just pick up and trail behind her new husband.
Feeling
overwhelmed with uncertainty as to what she should do, she threw a wild glance
at Verlene and Harry. "Sam, I can't move to Boston. My work is here. Work
that I love, by the way."
Sam's
spoonful of chili stopped halfway between the bowl and his mouth. "I know
that, honey. I've only got two years left of ball playin'." He implored
her with his blue eyes. "Surely we can reach some sort of compromise until
then?"
Verlene
reached across the table and patted Gwenyth affectionately on the hand.
"Of course you can. Y'all can live in Boston during the playing season and
here the rest of the
year Jones & Jones
can manage that for two
years, sugar." Verlene shrugged her shoulders elegantly. "Besides, it
hardly matters where you're based out of. You fly to your assignments
anyway."
Gwenyth
nodded. That much was true. She turned to Sam and questioned him further.
"Okay, so we live in Boston from April to September for the next two
years."
"October
if the Crusaders go to the World Series," Harry interjected hopefully.
Gwenyth
waved away her brother's comment. "What about spring training, Sam?
Doesn't that take up another couple of months?"
Sam
shook his head in the affirmative as he spooned a bite of chili into his mouth.
He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the hot, spicy stuff. Verlene was one of
the best cooks in the entire planet as far as he was concerned. "Yes it
does, but it's nothin' to worry over. Harvey Ansley, the Crusaders' owner, is
movin' our training camp to St. Petersburg."
Willy
picked up his bottle of beer and regarded his new grandson-in-law. "I read
'bout that in the papers." He waggled his eyebrows at Gwenyth.
"That's only twenty or so minutes from here by the interstate."
Gwenyth
nodded, appeased. She glanced at her husband and smiled. "I've never been
to Boston before. I suppose there's a lot of sightseeing to do there."
Sam
reached for another slice of Granddad Willy's homemade bread before responding.
"Definitely. A lot of old Civil War stuff, pretty neat."
"I'll
have to come visit," Harry added. He gave Sam a thoughtful look.
"I've never ventured that far to the north either, but American History
was always one of my favorite subjects in high school."
Sam
grinned. "I remember."
Gwenyth
grew quiet as she sat back and watched Sam interact with his new family. It was
like magic, what their short marriage had already done for him. He wasn't
remaining aloof, holding back that small, wary part of himself any longer. Sam
was behaving as though he'd finally accepted the fact that he belonged
somewhere.
And
he did, Gwenyth realized. Sam belonged here, with her. He always had. It might
have taken a ten-year separation for them to figure it out, but destiny, she
mused, had a funny way about it.
* * * * *
Gwenyth
knocked on the door to her brother's office in his campaign headquarters before
peeking around it to make certain he was alone. "Hi Harry. Monique said
you weren't with anyone. May I come in?"
Harry
had been bent over a stack of papers, reading the victory speech he hoped to
deliver tomorrow night when his head shot up at the sound of Gwenyth's voice.
"Gwen!" He set the papers on top of the desk and stood up. "Come
on in. Shut the door behind you."
Gwenyth
did a quick study of her brother's office as she made her way toward the desk.
The mix of Victorian and modern designs gave the room a classy, elegant feel
that managed to remain affable and fun-loving at the same time. Whoever
designed the office couldn't have done a better job of complimenting Harry's
personality. "I know you're busy with the election tomorrow. I promise to
only stay a minute."
Harry
waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Where's my new
brother-in-law?"
Gwenyth
rolled her eyes and chuckled. "When last I left him, he was on his way
over to our grandparents' house. Apparently Granddad made some of his world
famous chocolate chip cookies."
Harry
grinned. "Sam left your apartment for cookies?"
"Well,
that and the fact that Granddad is helping him find us a house. Sam's
determined to purchase one and actually live in it before we leave for
Boston."
"That
gives you five or six months. Shouldn't be too difficult."
"Yeah.
I suppose not."
Harry
eyed his sister curiously. Gwenyth had never showed up at his campaign
headquarters before, so he knew the reason for her arrival now could only mean
something serious was bothering her. That she seemed in no hurry to broach the
topic only added to his unease. "Gwen, what is it? Why are you here?"
he inquired softly.
Gwenyth's
eyes widened, momentarily startled by her brother's accurate appraisal of the
situation. She smiled slowly, remembering that few people knew her as well as
Harry did. "I have something to show you."
Harry
cocked an elegant brow, but waited in silence for her to continue. Gwenyth
sighed deeply as she fished into her purse and pulled out the crumpled note
that had been left for her at Vantry Sportswear's front desk. After handing it
to her brother, she waited until his eyes rounded with realization before
adding, "between this and the baseball crashing through my front window,
I'm beginning to wonder how seriously I should start taking these
threats."
"Damn."
Harry eyed the note speculatively as he plopped back down into his chair.
"I don't like this, Gwen. I don't like it at all." He raised his gaze
from the threatening note and regarded his sister. "What did Sam
say?"
"Sam?"
Gwenyth shook her head. "Are you kidding? I didn't tell Sam, Harry. He
would go through the roof."
"And
that's a bad thing?"
"Before
your
election?" She eyed her brother knowingly.
Harry
grimaced. "I see what you mean. He'll probably do something crazy when he
finds out."
Gwenyth
made an inelegant snort. "Probably? No, definitely. That's why I'm not
saying anything about it until you are already packing for D.C."
Harry
blew out a breath and ran his hands tersely through his tawny mane of hair.
"I still don't like the idea of keeping this a secret until after the
election, Gwen. What kind of a brother do you take me for? You are way more
important to me than a political career."
Gwenyth
smiled serenely. It was so like her brother to put everyone else's concerns
before his own. She sincerely hoped the voting populace realized what a
terrific man he was. "It's only another day, Harry."
"Still,
I want to turn this over to the detective working on your case right now. I
won't allow you to put something like this on the backburner, Gwen. Not even
for me." Harry reached for the telephone on top of his desk to make the
call his self. He smiled at his sister while he waited for Detective Anderson
to answer the line. "Though I do appreciate the gesture, Sis."
* * * * *
Gwenyth
dragged herself through her apartment door, wearier than she'd been in a long
time. Between handing over the latest threatening note she'd received and
reiterating everything that had happened the night of the
NAM
rally,
as well as the night that the baseball had been hurled through her front
window, the interview with Detective Anderson had labored on for the better
part of two hours. "Sam? I'm home."
Sam
appeared almost instantly. Sporting a pair of jeans, a chefs apron, and
wielding a large spoon, he put his hands on his hips and glowered at his wife.
"It's about time, Gwen. I was worried, I'll have you know."
Gwenyth
swallowed roughly as she took in the heady sight of Sam's shirtless, muscled
torso peeking out from behind the apron. Desire poured over her instantly.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I should have called when I first realized I'd be running
late."
Sam
grunted his agreement. "Where were you anyway?"
"At
my brother's campaign headquarters." Gwenyth shed her jacket and hung it
up on the coat rack. Noticing the stains smeared on Sam's apron—proof that he'd
been cooking—she realized how hungry she was. "What are we having for
dinner?"
Sam's
cheeks stained a dull red. "The best I could come up with."
Gwenyth
wondered at her husband's change in coloring, but said nothing of it. Shrugging
mentally, she followed him into their apartment's small dining room/kitchen and
dropped sluggishly into her chair. "Harry's really on edge about the
election. Not that I can blame him."
Sam
snorted, shaking his head. "Can't say I blame him either. I'd be a bundle
of exposed nerves if I was him."
Gwenyth
grinned. "Me too." Her gaze remained fixed on Sam as he set a plate
of food in front of her. "Your tux is pressed and ready for tomorrow
night, isn't it?"