Love Everlasting (Isle of Hope series Book 2)

by Julie Lessman

  “Where to?” Chase asked, giving Sam a strange feeling when the Rev exchanged looks with Shannon.

  “I’m taking Shannon to get ice cream, if you’re interested.”

  “Actually, Sam …” Shannon’s voice lowered to a whisper as she turned away from Chase to address Sam with a pretty blush in her cheeks. “Chase and I were planning to go to Lulu’s Chocolate Bar …”

  “But you’re welcome to join us if you want,” Chase said quickly, the glance between him and Shannon like a blow to Sam’s chest. Not to mention his ego.

  Lulu’s Chocolate Bar? The premiere date-night dessert venue in Savannah? The one he’d taken umpteen women to before he’d taken them “home”—his, not theirs?

  “Absolutely,” Shannon said in a rush, the gentle hand she laid on his arm burning right through along with the acid in his gut. “They have great ice cream, or so I’ve heard.”

  “Yeah, they do,” he whispered, too stunned to even render a smile. Shannon? On a date? Sam grappled with what to say, how to act, the freeze in his brain as powerful as anything Lulu’s could offer. But … she gave up dating—isn’t that what she’d told him once?

  As if reading his mind, she inched closer to Chase, the concern in her eyes making him feel like a heel. “I don’t usually date, as you know, Sam, but when Chase tempted me with Lulu’s …” She gave the Rev that sweet awkward smile that Sam absolutely loved, probably trying to lighten an embarrassing situation, then turned back to Sam with an uneasy shrug of her shoulders. “I figured I better take the opportunity because I’ve always wanted to go.”

  I would have taken you ... Sam cleared his throat, taking a step back with a palm in the air. “Hey, no worries, Shan. I need to head home anyway, but you’re going to love it, I promise.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to join us, Sam?” Grating her lip, Shannon offered a worried smile, her kind and nurturing nature obviously kicking in full force.

  “Naw.” He took a few more steps back, anxious to distance himself. “You two go and have a great time, and I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Offering a wave, he made a beeline for his car.

  “Sam?” Shannon’s voice practically bled regret.

  “Yeah?” He spun around with a strained smile, hands buried in his pockets.

  “How about I treat you to Lulu’s next week, to celebrate the progress you’ve made with Jazz?”

  Jazz. The woman he loved and hoped to marry. He sucked in a sharp breath, then slowly expelled it again, wondering why the thought suddenly left him as cold as the ice cream at Lulu’s.

  “Sounds good,” he said with another wave, his smile sad over the tenderness so innate in Shannon O’Bryen. A rare woman who worked diligently to spare people’s feelings and tried so hard to make everyone happy. He slammed his car door, gunning the engine as if to vent, barely aware when the Vette squealed out of the lot.

  A gentle soul, who would never, ever think of rocking the boat.

  Sam downshifted with force, engine grinding in protest as he unleashed a harsh grunt.

  Yeah? Then why in the name of friendship … was he suddenly so seasick?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Shannon winced when Sam squealed out of the parking lot, wishing she had told him about her date with Chase. He was her best friend, after all, and they told each other almost everything. But Chase had just called to ask her out this morning, and Shannon had never really expected Sam to show up at a church in the first place. Expelling a silent sigh, she faced Chase with a chew of her lip. “I’m really sorry, Chase. Sam is usually one of the most happy-go-lucky people you’ll ever meet, so I don’t know what got into him tonight.”

  “I do.” Chase ushered her to his Ford Explorer with a gentle hand to her back.

  She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, not exactly sure what he meant. “You do?”

  “Come on, Shannon—you’re a very bright woman, which is one of the reasons I wanted to get to know you better.” He glanced at her, eyes warm and his smile calm and caring, which immediately helped to settle the jitters in her stomach. “So I just expected you to see it. But my guess is you’re too close to the situation to even suspect it.” He opened the passenger side of his SUV and waited for her to get in before closing the door.

  “Suspect what?” she said when he got in on the other side, the nerves in her middle rebelling again.

  He started the car and looked over, his gentle eyes probing hers. “That Sam’s attracted to you.”

  All blood whooshed from her face before it returned with a vengeance, broiling her cheeks. “Oh, Chase, you c-couldn’t be m-more wrong,” she whispered, her complexion flaming all the hotter over her stutter. She buffed her arms as if she were chilly, the butterflies in her tummy doing somersaults on a trampoline. “Sam and I are nothing but friends, and I assure you there is absolutely no attraction on his part.” Teeth tugging the edge of her lip, she quickly looked out the window, barely seeing the blur of buildings passing by.

  Please, Lord, don’t let him ask about my attraction to Sam …

  “You really don’t see it, do you?” he said, tapping a CD into the player. The lively pulse of Matthew West’s “Hello, My Name is Regret” filled the vehicle, mirroring her thoughts exactly.

  Regret Sam had been a player.

  Regret she’d been wounded by one.

  Regret she was in love with a man she could never have.

  “See what?” she whispered, not really sure she wanted to hear what he had to say.

  He flipped on the blinker and glanced in the rear-view mirror before turning onto the highway, silent for several seconds until they were safely cruising in the far-right lane. “The way he looks at you, like a guy who’s checking you out.”

  A nervous laugh tripped from her lips as she gave him a shaky smile. “Sam checks every female out, Chase—it’s the player in him no matter how hard he tries to stifle it.”

  “Yeah, he does, I’ll give you that, but you’re his good friend, Shannon, and I’ve only seen one other guy check a friend out that way.” He slid her a sideways look. “And that was Jack with Lacey.”

  She stared, her pulse slowing to a hard thud. Impossible! “No,” she said with a firm shake of her head, “you couldn’t be more wrong. The man spends hours and hours talking about Jasmine, desperate to win her back.”

  He gave a slow nod, eyes on the road. “I believe that, and I believe Sam believes that, but the look I saw in his eyes tonight when he found out you and I were dating?” He glanced her way, smile wary. “Call me gun-shy, but he looked and acted just like Jack did when I started dating Lacey—jealous.”

  Shannon peered out the window as she thought about what Chase was saying, pretty sure he was way off base. Drawing in a deep swell of air, she huffed it out again and faced him dead-on. “Well, if he was, Chase, it was only because Sam’s very possessive and protective. He told me it was one of the problems he and Jasmine had in the past, his jealousy whenever another guy even looked her way. Especially if she looked back.”

  Yes, of course, that was it. Sam’s possessive nature. Even with friends.

  Expelling a cleansing sigh, Shannon relaxed against the headrest, her smile—and her stomach—finally tranquil. She was absolutely certain she wasn’t sexy, striking, or sophisticated enough to ever be Sam Cunningham’s type. “As close as Sam and I have gotten over the last three months, it’s understandable he might be a little jealous of another guy spending time with his best friend.” She shot Chase a lopsided smile. “Particularly when that best friend didn’t tell him she’d nixed her no-dating policy to go out with her pastor.”

  Slapping his blinker on, Chase concentrated on exiting the highway, finally slowing for a red light before he returned her smile. “That would be a bit of a shock, I suppose.” He gave her a little-boy grin that seemed so out-of-character for the solid and steady associate pastor. “I know it was for me.” He reached to squeeze her hand. “Thanks for ditching your no-dating policy, Shan
non. I’ve been wanting to go out with you for a long time.”

  “Since Lacey got back with Jack?” she said softly, her heart aching for the hurt he’d experienced in that situation, tough ex-Navy Seal or no. As Jack’s best friend, he’d finally confided to Jack that losing Lacey had been difficult, but that he was certain God had a Lacey for him somewhere.

  “Yeah.” His profile sobered as he steered a corner, finally easing up to the curb on a fairly crowded street. He parked and turned off the car before shifting to face her. “I knew I wanted someone who took their faith seriously, with a moral code way above the norm, and trust me, Shannon, that’s not easy to find.” The streetlight shadowed his handsome face as he reached for her hand again, clasping it loosely on the console. “I had a pretty bad experience with a girlfriend when I was in the service. She was wild and free like so many of the women today, so now I steer clear of that type of girl, which is why someone like you is so appealing.”

  “And safe?” She tipped her head, delivering a teasing smile.

  He squeezed her hand and let go, resting his on the console. “I hope so,” he said quietly, his eyes suddenly sober. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask a personal question about your relationship with Sam. Not because I’m nosey, mind you, but because I need to know upfront what I’m dealing with in a relationship with you.”

  “Ooo-kay …” she said slowly, her comfort level taking another dive.

  “I’d like to know what your feelings for Sam are, if you don’t mind.”

  “I told you, Chase, we’re just friends.”

  “I know,” he said with a quiet smile, “but I need to know how deep your feelings are for him, Shannon. Lacey told me the same thing in the beginning, but she was still in love with Jack, and I didn’t know it.” Sucking air through a tight smile, he threaded his fingers through short sandy hair. “If it’s all the same with you, I’d rather not be blindsided this time, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do,” she said softly, wishing she could say the same. Her unexpected attachment to Sam had blindsided her as well, pulling the rug out from under her heart.

  He twined his fingers through hers, meeting her gaze with a sober one of his own. “So, tell me, Shannon—are your feelings for Sam deeper than friendship?”

  She averted her gaze, swallowing a lump in her throat. “I think so.”

  Giving her palm a squeeze, he pulled his hand away and slowly exhaled. “I thought so,” he said quietly, “so thank you for your honesty.”

  Heart lurching, she turned to face him, desperate to make him understand. She placed a hand on his arm. “I never meant for this to happen, Chase, I swear, and to be honest, I wish there was something I could do to change it.”

  “There is,” he said with a patient smile. He gave her hand a gentle pat and got out of the car, peering in with gentle resolve etched in his face. “And we’ll start with one of Lulu’s decadent desserts and take it from there.”

  She gave him a wobbly smile when he opened her door. “You mean you still want to take me out? Even knowing how I feel about Sam?”

  “Sure,” he said with a slow grin, helping her out. “As long as I know where I stand going in, I’ll just do what Sam did and become your good friend.” He closed the door and slipped his fingers through hers once again, leading her to the quaint coffee-house storefront of Lulu’s with a lazy smile. “Because friendship with you is something I definitely want, Shannon, and who knows? Maybe I can help you get over Sam too.” He opened the door to Lulu’s, and mouthwatering smells wrapped her in a delicious hug, rich and warm, like the relaxed feel of Chase’s hand in her own. “But win or lose,” he said with a smile that was rampant with tease, “it should be a whole lot of fun just watching Sam squirm.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sam wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at Mary Preston’s chart, hands poised over the keyboard, but so far he hadn’t typed a thing. Granted, congenital heart disease wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on, especially when it belonged to a sweet six-year-old girl, but even so, he had no business letting his mind wander.

  For the zillionth time this week.

  He closed the computer and sagged back in his chair, eyes closed while he rested his head. The scene with Shannon and Chase last Saturday night replayed in his brain like a bad video he couldn’t get out of his mind.

  “I don’t usually date, as you know, Sam, but when Chase tempted me with Lulu’s …”

  Dating.

  Temptation.

  Weren’t those things she should have mentioned to a best friend? He certainly would have and did, in fact, every single time they got together, so why didn’t she?

  Why do you care so much?

  His pulse slowed to a crawl at the random thought. Why do I care so much, he wondered? Eyelids lifting, he dissected his reasons. Because he cared what happened to her, of course. Shannon was the best friend he’d ever had, man or woman, and he was very protective. He didn’t want to see her get hurt. She was an innocent, a true rarity in today’s world, sweet and trusting, especially with him since they’d gotten so close. And frankly, no one had ever trusted him like that before. He unleashed a grunt as he gouged fingers to the bridge of his nose. Who was he kidding? He’d never trusted himself like that before. Not until Shannon. And not until the rock-solid faith she was slowly sowing into his life.

  I need to apologize, he suddenly realized, staring at the Superman growth chart on his closed office door. For acting like such a jerk. There’d been no reason for his juvenile behavior. He cared deeply about Shannon and she deserved to be loved like he wanted to love Jazz, and Chase was actually perfect for her.

  Clean cut.

  No nonsense.

  A pillar of faith, just like her.

  Sam scowled, barely aware he was even doing it.

  Okay, he was worried about her, so sue him. He pushed forward in his chair and flipped open his computer, grateful Chase was a stand-up guy who hopefully wouldn’t take advantage of her. Sam’s mouth crooked. Not that she’d let him. The woman was a wall of iron embedded with heels, untainted by the world.

  His fingers hovered over the keyboard once again while his gaze wandered into another faraway stare. Which was one of the things he loved most about her, come to think of it. Her simplicity, her innocence, her morality—unspoiled and pure.

  Unlike Jazz.

  The thought was so out of left field, he actually blinked, downright ticked off for even thinking that way. Jazz was a modern woman, for pity’s sake, just like he’d been a modern man, part of a society where anything goes. Pleasure-seekers all, yes, but searching for love in all the wrong places. And utterly blind to something Shannon had taught him well.

  Love does not act improperly, is not selfish …

  He sighed as his gaze veered off into another dead stare ...

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Sam looked up when Jack stuck his head in the door with a suspicious grin on his face. “Hey, buddy, your last appointment is here.”

  Sam’s gaze darted to the clock on his wall and back, brows in a scrunch. “I don’t have anymore appointments today.”

  Grinning, Jack pushed the door open, and Jasmine walked in. The scent of her Bombshell perfume was true to its name, all prior thoughts of anything else in his brain completely blown to bits.

  “Oh, but you do, Dr. Cunningham,” she said with a seductive smile, “and I’m afraid it’s an emergency.”

  “Jazz …” Her name faded on his tongue as he rose to his feet, gaze traveling her body in natural reflex. Skin-tight jeans and a well-fitting white crop top made his mouth go dry, offering inviting peeks at a tanned and toned stomach. Attraction buzzed through his body like electricity, making it hard to concentrate. “This is a nice surprise …”

  “I’m heading out, Ham.” Jack gave him a knowing wink. “But I’m sure you can take it from here. Good night, Jazz.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, silky blonde hair trailing bronzed
shoulders. “G’night, Jack, and thanks for the encouragement.”

  Jack waved and closed the door, and Jazz faced Sam again, a hint of timidity in her manner that he’d never seen before. “Hi,” she said softly, teeth nibbling on those luscious lips that had once been his drug of choice.

  “What encouragement?” He rounded his desk and perched on the front edge with a smile, arms crossed in a loose fold. “And I thought today was your day off—what are you doing here?”

  She moved in close enough to make his pulse sprint when her body almost grazed his knees. “I came to see you, silly, since I haven’t seen or heard from you in over a week …”

  He blinked. Had it really been that long? He scratched the curls at the back of his head, heat creeping up his neck. “Sorry, Jazz, it’s been pretty crazy at work …”

  “Weekends too?” she whispered, the barest trace of hurt in her tone.

  The heat converged in his face. “Yeah, I’m pretty slammed on weekends, too, unfortunately. I’m still mentoring and coaching inner-city basketball like before, but now I’m occasionally volunteering at Camp Hope—”

  “That never stopped you before,” she said softly, halting his pulse altogether when she idly smoothed the curls he’d rumpled at the nape of his neck. Her eyes were pools of concern, like the time she’d been insecure about her relationship with Jack. “At least not on Saturday nights as I recall …”

  His shoulders lifted in an awkward shrug, smile sheepish. “You’re going to laugh when I tell you this, I know, but Jack’s been pestering me for months to go to his church, so I finally caved.”

  Her eyes grew. “You went to church?”

  He grinned. “Well, not church exactly, but I played volleyball with the singles and young marrieds’ group in the church gym, so you know Jack—it’s only a matter of time till he gets me in the pews.”