Shameless
Page 32
“Fine. You’ll get your story.” And she’d start looking for a new job Monday.
She put it off as long as she could. From the sounds on the other side of the door, she could tell the show was getting underway. Quit being a baby and do your job.
Taking a gulp of courage in the form of a deep breath, she pushed through the double doors and entered the auditorium. She found a spot next to the other journalists in the back and pulled a narrow notebook from her purse. She jotted notes about the surroundings, the decorations, the general ambiance. Finally, she glanced at the stage. Same setup as last year. Potted palms at the corners, metal stools lined across the stage with their bachelor occupants perched atop, adoring female audience frothing at the mouth for a chance at those men. She still found it distasteful.
Her gaze scanned the bachelors, taking notes of their names, occupations and any other interesting information as Adele Bartholemew, same emcee as last year, introduced the men. Sam sighed. She could have done the story without coming here. Everything was the same, right down to—
She gasped.
Right down to John. Oh, God. He was Bachelor Number 8.
Her breathing shallowed. She was going to hyperventilate. He’d obviously gotten over her since he was putting himself “out there” again, charity be damned. How could he? How could he? She looked around for a hiding place or a big person to hide behind.
She barely paid attention as each bachelor was introduced and told a little about himself. Until the microphone was put in front of John. Adele told the audience about his health clubs, his work with the kids, then she asked him the big question: “What are you looking for in a woman?”
“I want to find someone to settle down with. Someone who likes to laugh and have a good time. Someone who likes old movies. But most important, someone who loves kids just as much as I do.”
“You want kids, John?” asked Adele, sticking the mike in his face.
He nodded. “Desperately.”
Sam was going to throw up. He’d told her he couldn’t stay with her because he didn’t want kids, but what he’d really meant, obviously, was that he didn’t want her and Danielle. She blinked back stinging tears. Needing to get out of here, to hell with her job, she scooted toward the doors, but Adele’s next words gave her pause.
“Okay, ladies. Just to be different this year, we’re going to start at this end with Bachelor Number 8.” She waited for the applause to die, then said, “John? Will you pick from the hat or directly from the audience?”
“I’m not interested in the hat, Adele.”
Cocky son-of-a-bitch. Sam closed her eyes and told herself to leave now. But she was apparently a glutton for punishment because she really wanted to see what kind of woman John was interested in, what kind of woman he wanted to have babies with.
He rose from his stool. “I see someone in the audience I’d like to meet.” The audience cheered in anticipation.
Sam scanned the crowd, trying to find someone there he might be interested in, all the while her heart broke into tinier and tinier pieces.
“In fact, Adele,” John continued in a confident voice, “I see someone in your audience I’d like to marry.” Giggles and oohs erupted from the crowd.
Oh, God. Oh, God. This was too much. He was a total creep. Marry. Marry? She was out of here. The exit, her escape and salvation, was only feet away, but the closer she got to it the farther away it seemed, like that crazy dream when you’re running down a long hallway toward the door that somehow stays just a step ahead of you.
“She’s not actually a ticket holder, but we didn’t let that stop us last year… did we, Samantha?”
What? Sam froze, afraid to turn around, afraid her heartbroken soul played tricks on her. Praying this wasn’t just a dream, she turned. John wove through the crowd of tables, toward her. His expression wasn’t as confident as his words had suggested.
Blinking a few times, she stepped toward him, uncertain this was really happening. Afraid to believe. When they were a couple of feet apart, they stopped.
“Am I dreaming?” she asked.
His answering smile was tender. “If you are, I’m having the same dream.”
Tears fell onto her cheeks, blurring him. “Was Oz in on this?”
He nodded. “And Adele.”
“You jerk. I really thought that you—” Her voice caught and she cleared her throat. “You— you really want to marry me? Me and Danielle?” She was oblivious to the crowd surrounding them.
“I’ll tell you what,” John said, moving closer until his body heat melded with hers. “Rock, scissors, paper. If you win, the dream ends how you want. If I win, the dream ends how I want.”
She sniffed. “But you always win that game.”
He smiled, and moisture rimmed his blue eyes. “Yes, I know.” He peered into Sam’s face. God, how he loved this woman. “How long before Danielle can come home?”
“Our daughter is coming home tomorrow.” She touched his cheek.
Our daughter, she’d said. He didn’t even try to blink away the stinging in his eyes. “Then I’m coming home tomorrow, too,” he whispered, pulling her into his embrace.
As she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down for a kiss, as the audience thundered its approval and applause, John knew his future had arrived. It was everything he’d never thought it could be. And more.
THE END
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Note from the Author
Have you ever heard authors talk about their “book of the heart”? Well, SHAMELESS is mine. John and Sam’s story was in my head for years; they kept bugging me and talking to me until I finally had to shut them up by writing this book. Thank you so much for reading it. Please tell a friend or consider lending it through your retailer’s lending program. I would also be very grateful if you left an honest review at your online retailer’s website.
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About the author
I’ve wanted to write romance novels since I read my first Harlequin Romance at age eleven. When I’m not writing, I work as a personal fitness trainer and group exercise instructor, where I teach Pilates, Zumba® and yoga. I feel very lucky to have not one, but two dream jobs: writing and fitness. Other jobs I’ve worked at over the years include portrait artist, marketing director, and graphic designer. But I most enjoy telling people I used to be a hoer (say it out loud, and you’ll know why I get a laugh out of this) in the beautiful tulip fields of Skagit County, Washington.
I live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband, two kids, a German Shepherd beast, two cats who plot to kill the dog, a rat that comes when he’s called (seriously), and a dead gecko (seriously, again). In my free time, I like to read, watch Criminal Minds reruns on TV, and do absolutely nothing.
Contents
Title page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Other Books by Rebecca J. Clark
Not
e from the Author
About the author