by Robin Huber
“I’ve been a few times, but only for work. I haven’t really seen much of the city.”
“Okay,” I say, sitting up again, “we have to go together. I have to take you to the Met. If I end up going to the Aurelia Snow exhibit this summer, you are coming with me.”
“Who’s Aurelia Snow?”
“Only one of the most successful, talented modern artists in the industry. Her gallery is hosting an exhibit this summer that’s featuring emerging artists like me. It’s the one I told you about. The one I hoped my exhibit would land me an invitation to. Not so sure about that now.”
“So, we’ll go to New York anyway. I’d love to see the…whatever it’s called.”
I smile. “The Met?”
“Yeah.”
I finish my drink and stand up. “Come on,” I say, reaching for his hands.
He puts his drink down and stands up. “You want another drink?” he asks uncertainly.
I shake my fuzzy head. I’ve had enough. “No. I want to go swimming.”
“Luc, it’s still raining.”
“So what? The thunder and lightning stopped a while ago. I want to go swimming with you.” I arch an eyebrow and shimmy my shorts down my legs.
He watches me and laughs. “So just like that…all I had to do was get you drunk?”
“Yep.” I giggle and push the glass doors open, stepping out onto the cooled travertine tiles in my T-shirt and panties. “You coming or what?” I ask, leaving the covered patio and stepping out into the rain. I close my eyes and hold my arms out, and spin around.
After a few seconds, Sam catches my wrist and pulls me against his warm chest, which I can feel through the cool rain, and a soft melody begins to play through the outside speakers.
“You put on music?” I ask, smiling up at him.
“Yeah.”
The delicate plucking of guitar strings is the perfect accompaniment to the rain bouncing off the tiles at our feet. Sam holds me close and sways me back and forth to the soft male voice that croons the lyrics, You were mine, at one point in time…
My breath catches in my throat and I grip his arms tightly as we begin to slow dance in the rain under a gray-blue sky.
“Sam,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. “I love you,” I say quietly.
He presses his hand to my back and grips my wet shirt in his hand, twisting it up in his fist as he brings his mouth to mine and kisses me slowly.
I kiss him back with everything I am, feeling the buzz of alcohol tingle on my tongue against his. My heart pounds inside my chest as the beautiful lyrics remind me of the pain we both felt without each other. What do I gotta do, to erase every piece of you?
We dance for a few more seconds, then he drops his forehead to mine and sings softly, “I don’t want you to go, so I’ll just keep on talking slow.”
“Sam.” I blink back tears that mix with the rain falling on my cheeks.
He wipes my face and says, “I used to listen to this when you were gone. It always made me think of you.” He rubs his thumb over my cheek and gazes at me through the rain that’s dripping from my hair and T-shirt. “You’re so beautiful like this.” He smiles and brings my chin up to his. “I love you.” He kisses me softly.
“You know, for somebody who beats people up for a living, you’re pretty sweet. And sensitive.”
“Shhh…don’t tell anyone.”
I smile and reach for the bottom of my T-shirt, and pull it off over my head.
Sam watches me take off my bra and panties with a satisfied smile on his face.
I throw them on the ground and wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my naked, wet body to his. I kiss him again and savor the feeling of his wide hands on my back and bottom. I drop down off my tiptoes and put my hands on my hips. “Well, come on, champ, it’s your turn.”
He grins and tugs his wet T-shirt off, then he pushes his shorts down while I watch. He stands beside me facing the pool and reaches for my hand. “Come on,” he says excitedly, and we jump into the warm water and sink beneath the quiet surface.
“Okay,” I say when we resurface, catching my breath. “There might be something to this.” I kiss him and we sink back down into the quiet water below, where there’s only us, tangled together. No noise, no worry…just peace.
I may never resurface again.
* * *
I lie back in one of the open cabana beds by the pool, gazing up at the twinkling stars that are shining in the dark, indigo sky—one of my favorite things to do here at night.
Sam joins me with a bottle of white wine, two long-stemmed glasses, and a smile. “Thought we should celebrate our last night here.” He sits down beside me and pours me a glass.
“How is it possible that three weeks have gone by already?” I ask, taking the glass from him. I sip the cool, crisp wine and a soft breeze raises goose bumps on my arms. “I’ve finally acclimated to the humidity and now we have to leave,” I pout, rubbing my arms.
“If we could stay here like this forever, I would.” He holds his glass up to mine and says, “Here’s to the most incredible three weeks of my life.”
“Mine too,” I say, clinking my glass with his.
He takes a sip and presses his wine-soaked lips to mine, and I try to etch the moment to memory—the warm, breezy air, the twinkling stars, the glow of the house, the rustling of the palm trees blowing against the night sky, the waves crashing on the salty shore in the distance, and Sam’s full, sweet lips pressed against mine.
He leans back against the pillows beside me and looks up at the sky I’ve been memorizing for the last twenty nights. “I just got off the phone with Miles.”
“Is he lost without you?”
He laughs and nods. “As soon as the doctor clears me, I’ve got to start training again.”
“I figured you would.”
“All this down time’s got me out of shape.”
I raise an eyebrow and glance at his very muscular arms.
“Seriously, I’m going to have to put in a lot of time with Tristan when we get back to get ready for the match in LA next month.”
“LA?”
He nods and looks at me with a hint of hesitance in his eyes. “I know it’s soon, but I really want you to go.”
I lower my wineglass and reach for his hand. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.” Especially after what happened in Quebec. It’s going to be hard to watch him fight, taking hits like he did with Beau Ackerman, but it would be agony to watch on TV, not knowing if he was okay.
He smiles and I kiss his hand, grateful that he’s back to good health now.
“I’m going to be pretty busy too,” I say, thinking about everything that’s waiting for me back home. “Sebastian’s been doing what he does best, but I still have a lot of loose ends to tie up at the studio.”
“Does one of them happened to be named Drew?”
A rock lands in the middle of my stomach, and I instantly grow angry at it for interrupting my last night in paradise with Sam. I may have made mistakes, but I ended things with Drew the right way. So why do I still feel so shitty about it? I make a mental note to take this up with Sebastian when I get back.
I sigh. “Yes, Drew. He still owns the studio.” I sip my wine and gaze up at the endless sea of stars above us. “I’m just grateful he hasn’t kicked us out yet. At least not as of yesterday when I talked to Sebastian. He’s been trying to get hold of Drew, but Drew hasn’t returned any of his calls. And he said he’s too scared to call Janice.” I laugh, but the truth is, I don’t blame him.
“Ah, she didn’t seem very scary to me.”
“Yes, well, she was quite smitten with you, but that was before you stole her future daughter-in-law.”
“I’m pretty sure you left willingly.”
“Even worse.” I sigh and say honestly, “I care about Janice. She was like a mother to me for the last couple of years. It’s weird to suddenly not have any contact with her.”
“Well, maybe you sh
ould try to call her,” he says, sipping his wine, and I can’t tell if he really wants me to or if he’s just trying to be supportive.
I look at him and admit, “I did call her, before we left Quebec.”
He raises his eyebrows curiously. “What did she say?”
“She didn’t answer. So I left her message to let her know where I’d be for the next few weeks. I just didn’t want her to worry,” I explain.
He nods, but I see the concern in his eyes. “No one is supposed to know we’re here, Luc.”
“She would never tell anyone. Besides, I only said we’d be in the Bahamas, I didn’t say where.”
“Did she ever call you back?”
“No. I’ve texted her a few times, but I think she’s pretty upset with me. I need to go see her when we get back. Hopefully I can mend things with her in person, or at least apologize.” I shrug. “What’s the worst that could happen? I’m probably going to lose my studio anyway.” I sigh dramatically. “What could be worse than that?”
“Lucy, I told you. I’ll buy you the studio. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Drew will never sell it to you,” I say surely. Not that I would let Sam buy it for me anyway. I drop my head to the side to look at him and link my pinky with his. “It’s okay. I knew what I was risking.” I smile softly and exhale a quiet breath. “You’re worth it.”
He puts his wineglass down and says tenaciously, “I’ll buy you a new studio, then. I’ll buy you anything, Lamb. Just name it and it’s yours.”
I put my glass down next to his and sit up. “Sam, I don’t need you to buy me things.”
“But I want to.”
“No. You’ve worked so hard for everything you have. For this.” I gesture at the house and the spectacular pool we’re sitting next to. “I’m so proud of you for all that you’ve accomplished, but I want to make something of myself too. I want to make my own way. It’s important to me…I think it’s what my mom would have wanted for me.”
He nods softly. “I want that for you too.”
“You do?”
“Yes, of course.”
I smile softly at him.
“But I also want to help you. I want you to let me help you. The way Drew did. You can always pay me back.”
I pick up my wineglass. “Sam, it’s different with you.”
“Why?”
“Because Drew treated it like a business deal. You would just be doing it because…you love me.”
He gives me an impossible look. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s the principle of the whole thing,” I say, my voice rising a few octaves.
He lets out a defeated breath and says, “Okay, then. No studio.”
“Sam…” I reach for his hand and hold it in my lap. “I love that you want to help me. But I want to figure out how to do it on my own. Especially now.” I shake my head and explain, “Everything’s different now…I’m different.”
He gives me a sincere look and asks, “How?” Before I can answer, he adds, “Besides the fact that you’ll freely take your clothes off and run around the beach with me now.”
I laugh. “Well, yes, there’s definitely that. But, I don’t know, I’m just not who I was with Drew. Being here these last few weeks, without distractions, learning new things about you and rediscovering all the things I already loved…about you, about us…” I smile and say, “I’m me when I’m with you, Sam. Who I always was, deep down. The me who isn’t afraid to stand on her own two feet. I want other people to know her too.”
“Then they will.”
I smile and lean back against the pillows in the cabana and stare at the sparkly sky.
Sam leans back beside me. “So, besides the studio, are there other stipulations to me spending money on you that I should know about?”
“Sam, I love that you want to give me things and take me to amazing places like this. But I told you, I’m yours, free and clear. You earned your money, not me. I’m not going to let you go bankrupt spending it on me.”
He pulls his eyebrows together. “Luc, I don’t think you understand exactly how much money I have.” He gives me a contented look, but it makes me uneasy. “I couldn’t spend it all in this lifetime or the next.”
“Oh.” My mouth suddenly feels dry. Maybe it’s the wine.
“I mean, I guess I technically could, but I never would. I’m smart with my money, and I’ve made good investments.”
I give a tentative smile. “It’s still your money. Not mine.”
He nods thoughtfully and his face grows serious again, but then he reaches for my hand and the corners of his mouth turn up, setting his eyes alight. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to do something about that then.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Sam, I was literally engaged to someone else less than a month ago. We’re not getting married.” I smile and put my hand on his cheek. “Not yet anyway.”
“Well, maybe we could get a head start by you moving in with me when we get back.”
I laugh again, unable to escape the power of his dimples, or the joy that’s filling my chest. “You want me to move in with you already?”
“Yes,” he says certainly.
“Don’t you think we should give it a little more time?”
“For what?”
“I don’t know. To get to know each other again. I mean, we only just got back together. And what would people say?” Thoughts of the media and Drew and Janice bounce around my head, squandering my happiness.
He sits up and drops his elbows to his knees. “Lucy, I don’t care what people say. And what do you mean? We’ve known each other our whole lives. Besides, we’ve technically been living together for the last twenty days.”
“Well, as much as I hate to admit it, I do care what people say. People can be judgmental. I don’t need rumors derailing my career right now. The last thing I want is to be known as your gold-digging girlfriend.”
He laughs softly and fights a smile. “So you think moving in with me makes you a gold digger?”
“Well, maybe a freeloader.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you what. If you move in with me, I’ll let Jean-Luc go and you can be in charge of buying all the groceries. It will actually save me money.”
I smile softly. “Have you even considered that you might not like living with me? I’m not the tidiest person in the world.”
“I’ve noticed,” he says, cutting his eyes at me.
“Uhh.” I laugh and shove his arm lightly. “We’re on vacation, okay?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “You never did pick your clothes up off the floor, even when we were kids.”
He really does know me. It makes me smile. “Well, you’re freakishly tidy, okay. When did that start?”
“Prison. When I got out, I was a lot more careful with my belongings, because I didn’t have anything for three years.”
“Oh.” I drop my head and fight the familiar guilt that squeezes my chest whenever he talks about his time in prison.
He pulls me over to him and wraps his arms around me. “I love that you’re messy. It’s part of who you are. And I want all of you, Lucy. Even the messy parts.”
I nod against his chest. “I felt like I had to hide the messy parts for a really long time.”
“Not with me. You never have to hide with me, Lamb. I love everything about you. No amount of time or space will change that. So, please, move in with me. I want the first thing I see in the morning to be your face…with your messy hair, in our messy room.”
I laugh softly. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
I tilt my chin up and smile at him. “Yes, I’ll move in with you, Sam.”
He kisses the top of my head and hugs me tight. “That makes me so happy.”
“Me too,” I say softly, pushing away encroaching thoughts of the media and Drew and Janice. They’ll all have something to say, but nothing is more important than Sam’s happiness. Or mine.
Chapt
er 4
Lucy
Sebastian!” I stand on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Hello, gorgeous!” He pulls me back by my shoulders and smiles at me. “Seriously, you look amazing.” He takes my hands and inspects my face and arms. “A little Sam, I mean sun, looks good on you.”
I laugh and arch an eyebrow. “Maybe a little of both.”
He sighs and removes his burgundy Burberry scarf from around his neck, which he reserves for the month of November. “You know I can’t wait to hear all about it—I want details—but first, I have one hundred and one things to go over with you.” He hands me a paper cup of coffee and takes my hand. “Come on.”
I sip it as he drags me to the back of the studio, reluctantly lifting the Sam veil I’ve been blissfully hiding behind for the last three weeks. Paradise was wonderful, but it’s back to reality.
I did miss my latte macchiato.
And Sebastian.
I smile when we reach my very organized office, which I’ve avoided since I arrived twenty minutes ago. I chose to spend the morning reacquainting myself with my paintings, especially those that technically no longer belong to me since being sold at my exhibit last month. “You’ve been busy,” I say, eyeing my shelves.
“Okay,” Sebastian says, handing me my laptop and several folders that are exploding with papers. “Follow me.”
“What is all of this?”
“Purchase orders mostly. All awaiting your signature. And a contract,” he says casually as he plops down onto one of the giant throw pillows on the floor. He pats the rug beside him and pulls another pillow over. “Sit.” He purses his lips over a smile he’s barely containing.
I narrow my eyes and coerce my heart to maintain a slow, steady, unexcited rhythm as I swallow down the butterflies I refuse to acknowledge and sit on the floor beside him. “So what’s the contract for?” I ask coolly.
“Oh, just this gallery in Chelsea that’s hosting an exhibit for up-and-coming contemporary realist artists next summer.”
I sit up straight, no longer able to restrain my excited heart. “Shut up.”
“Aurelia Snow or something.” He pulls his mouth to the side and shakes his head. “Something like that.”
