Simone was suddenly tense. She knew it was her mom’s job to worry, but it was irritating. “Nothing happened. I’m fine. Sabrina is fine. We’re fine.”
Her mom nodded, knowingly. “Yeah, you seem fine,” she said sarcastically.
Simone put her purse and her house keys on the table.
“Sabrina, did you have fun with mommy?” Simone’s mom talked in her baby voice as she unbuckled Sabrina from her car seat. Simone watched Sabrina smile. Her daughter squirmed and lifted her chubby hands out to her mom. Simone’s mom took them and kissed them quickly, making Sabrina laugh. “I bet you did. Yes I do. Did mommy take you to the beach? Mommy loves the beach, doesn’t she?”
Simone couldn’t help but smile. “Sabrina needs to eat. Do you want me to warm up some turkey and rice and then you can feed her?”
Her mom waved her away. “Go take a shower. Sabrina and I have things under control.”
Simone kissed Sabrina on the cheek and patted her mom’s arm. “Thanks.”
***
The heat from the shower warmed Simone but even after fifteen minutes, her body wouldn’t stop shivering. It wasn’t because she was cold. It was because she was excited, scared, afraid, terrified, and… hopeful. She wanted to see Sam. Every part of her body, heart, and soul ached for him, for the way he talked with a slight accent, the way he’d made her feel… Up until he left, she’d never been happier.
And for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why he’d left, what she’d done or hadn’t done to make him take off without saying good-bye or giving her a reason. That was the worst part, not knowing.
Finally, after almost two years she’d get the opportunity to see him again. To see his face. Just thinking about it, about him, made her pulse beat faster and her lower belly flutter with memories.
“Simone.” Her mom knocked on the bathroom door. She’d been in the shower a long time. Obviously her mom couldn’t shut down her concern. Simone had put her mom through a lot, especially in the past year. “Are you okay?”
Simone sighed, pulling back the daisy shower curtain “Yes, Mom. Thanks. I’m fine.” She shut off the water and took her towel off its hook.
“No rush. Sabrina and I are going to bake some cookies.”
Simone smiled into the towel. “Sounds delicious. Her favorite kind of cookie is oatmeal, just in case you’re wondering.”
“Uh huh, just like her mom, I guess.”
Simone wrapped the towel around her and wiped the steam from the mirror. “Yep.” She heard her mom’s footsteps pad down the carpeted hallway back toward the kitchen.
Leaning against the sink, Simone stared at her reflection, the brightness of her green eyes, the auburn tinge to her eyebrows and lashes. Her cheekbones were high and protruded. It was a side effect of the drugs she was on—lack of appetite. A month after she had Sabrina she’d started on them. Her doctor had hoped they would slow the cancer so that she could have six months to recuperate after giving birth before staring chemotherapy.
Weight loss hadn’t been the only negative consequence she’d suffered. Her reflection didn’t reveal the havoc making its way through her body. That would change when she started chemotherapy next month. Her doctor had advised her of the side effects. Nausea. Fatigue. Hair loss.
What will Sam think of you then?
The thought made her heart hurt. Why did he have to come back now? What could he possibly tell her that would make up for what he’d done?
She’d already resigned herself to living the remainder of her days without him. Their eight weeks together had been amazing, the best experience of her life. And her daughter—she couldn’t have asked for a better gift than Sabrina.
Sam was her great love. She knew she’d never feel for another person the way she felt for him, and she had been okay with that. No matter what happened, she’d experienced real, true love. She’d been given a child. She had a job and family who adored her. Simone had more than most and she was grateful.
Simone had even learned to accept life without Sam, even told herself that she and Sabrina were better off. Then Sam had to go and screw everything up with an email. Her emotions were in an uproar. If such a things as a good angel and a bad angel could sit on her shoulders, they’d be having a field day.
Don’t go see him. He’s an asshat. Sure, he acted kind and sweet those eight weeks and yes he’s most definitely hot, but whatever feelings he shared with you were lies.
The man knows how to treat a woman’s body. Do more than see him, seduce him. It’s been ages, and you need to get laid.
Simone closed her eyes, resting her head against the mirror over the sink.
“What do you want?” Simone asked herself.
The last night Sam and she had been together dominated her thoughts. The tender way he’d undressed her. The way his eyes devoured her body. “I’m in love with your lips,” he’d said, kissing her. Then he’d pulled away and blazed a trail with his tongue down her body. “I’m in love with the curve of your hips.” He’d kissed each bone and then her belly button. “I’m in love with you. Every inch.”
Simone had shuddered with the love on his lips and in his eyes.
“I’m in love with you, too,” Simone finally admitted. It was the one and only time she’d ever said those words to another soul.
After they made love he tucked her body against his chest and they’d fallen asleep.
When she woke, she remembered a tender kiss, and then he was gone. No note. No phone number. Nothing.
“And now your back. Why?” She spoke aloud even though she knew no one would have the answer, least of all her. Simone scrunched the ends of her curly hair. From the medicine cabinet she took her favorite lotion, Hello by Harvey Prince and applied it. When she finished, she put the lotion back and took out her makeup case, carefully applying some brown eyeliner and mascara, a little blush, and some light pink gloss.
Then she went into her bedroom. Her sisters told her she should wear a sexy dress and heels to show off her long legs, but there was no way she could walk in heels on the beach, especially not at midnight. It wasn’t practical. Doing so would be stupid. She might break an ankle.
Instead she dressed sensibly in jeans, a pair of flip-flops, and an oversized sweatshirt. It was always windy at the beach, so she put her hair up. She looked pretty and appeared as though she wasn’t trying too hard—which she wasn’t, of course.
When she came out of her room, her mom rolled her eyes. “I didn’t think you should wear a dress and heels either, but really? He won’t be able to see your gorgeous figure.”
Her mom was sitting on the floor next to Sabrina, holding her hands. Her daughter pulled herself up so that she stood on her chubby legs.
Simone knelt beside her and took her hands. “You gonna walk, baby-girl? You ready.” She scooted back as Sabrina cooed and took a tentative step forward. “That’s it.”
“Ma ma ma ma ma,” Sabrina said, taking another step.
“You’re doing it. Come on.” She released her daughter’s hands. “You got this,” she said.
But her daughter sat on her butt.
“She’s not ready,” her mom said, picking her up.
“Nope, but soon.” Simone stood and went into the kitchen for a glass of water.
Her mom stood as well, bringing Sabrina with her. “Are you really going to wear that?” she asked, eyeing Simone.
Simone shrugged. “I am. It doesn’t really matter what I wear. Sam and I are going to talk. Well, he better do some serious talking. I’m going to listen… at least until I get so pissed I start yelling.”
Her mom chuckled. “If that’s how the night is going to go then you’re in the perfect outfit.” She turned Sabrina in her arms and held her so their faces were close. “What do you think, Breeney?”
“Breeney is on my side and yes, that’s probably pretty close to what’ll happen.” Simone opened the refrigerator. “Is chicken okay for dinner?”
“What kind of chick
en?” her mom asked in a baby voice.
“Sautéed with mushrooms and onions with a salad and baked potato?”
“Mmmmm, that sounds goo-ooood, don’t you think so, baby-girl?”
Simone turned just in time to catch Sabrina smiling big at her mom. “Did you need me to cut the onion or the mushrooms?” she asked.
“No, you holding Sabrina is a huge help.”
***
Simone tried to eat when dinner was ready, but her stomach was in knots and she finally gave up.
Her mom tidied up the kitchen after dinner and she held Sabrina. Her sisters came over and they had more of mom’s sangria and hung out.
The evening was amazing. Spending time with them kept her mind off what would happen at midnight. At eight, she put Sabrina to bed. When she was finished, she walked back into the living room. Her sisters and mom had the TV on and were watching Doctor Zhivago. Simone hated that show. It was long and the end was awful. Mom called it realistic. Simone sat down next to her. “Why do you put yourself through this? You know how it ends. She picks the wrong guy.”
Mom patted her knee. “Maybe she picked the wrong guy for you, but she ended up with the guy she needed.”
Simone snorted. “You’re so practical.”
“It really is a terrible show,” Heather said.
Her mom faced her. “How are you feeling? Need to talk?”
“Yes, if it’s about anything other than what I’m going to be doing in a few hours.”
“Fine.” Mom turned back to the TV. “Let’s see how it ends first.”
Simone crossed her arms and snuggled next to her mom and sisters even though she knew what happened. It was strange though because as the final scenes played out she still had hope the character would choose the right guy.
Of course, she didn’t.
As the credits rolled, her mom took her hands. “No matter what happens tonight. Be brave. Be strong. Even if what he has to say isn’t what you want to hear, know your sisters and I are here for you.”
Simone felt like she might puke. Her body started trembling again.
Her mom seemed to sense it. “He came looking for you. Let him share his reasons, listen, and then follow your heart.” She kissed Simone on the cheek.
“Mom’s right,” Heather said and her sisters agreed, pulling her into hugs.
“When you get home, if you come home tonight.” She winked. “Just scoot me over. I’m taking your bed.” Her mom stood as did her sisters. “Night.”
Simone walked her sisters to the door. After they left, she kissed her mom.
“Love you, Simone.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Simone responded. She blew her mom a kiss, went into her bedroom, and closed the door.
Merit Of A Man
Four
Simone walked to the end of the lane where wooden stairs led down to the beach. The tide was out, which meant the caves would be damp, but dry. As she descended, she tried not to think of the time she and Sam spent walking along this beach, holding hands, talking, and kissing in the moonlight. It’d been their favorite way to end a night out before he’d walk her home, kiss her goodnight, and then more often than not end up staying.
She clicked on her phone and the time lit up. It was five minutes to midnight. Five more minutes and she would know the true merit of the man she’d fallen in love with those many months ago. The prospect terrified her. Several times she nearly turned around and scuttled back up the stairs, away from the inevitable.
But she wasn’t a coward. At least, not yet.
When she reached the last step she paused. The wind was always strongest near the ocean. Her hair ripped from her bun and strands blew in her face. She brushed them aside as she searched the shoreline for him. Now that the time was so close, she was anxious. Her heart raced with anticipation.
Sam. Sam. Sam. Her mind chanted his name.
He’d said their cave. She knew exactly the one he meant. The light from the moon glistened off the water and lit up the night. Simone’s flip-flops scrunched in the sand and she inhaled the salty smell of the ocean and the dried seaweed.
When she came to the large rock that housed their cave she saw a light. Sam had made a fire. Simone stopped, leaning against the prickly surface.
This is it, she thought.
She rounded the corner and there he was. Samuel Dean Merrick, the most gorgeous man she’d ever met or would ever meet. He heard her enter the cave and turned.
As soon as their eyes met, his face lit up. “Simone.” He tossed the stick he’d been using to poke the firewood into the flames and stood.
Simone couldn’t move. He looked exactly the same: tall, bright hazel eyes, longer dark hair, and tanned skin. Well, except he had on a suit instead of the jeans and tee shirt she’d become used to seeing on him. He also wasn’t wearing his cowboy hat or boots.
Damn, he looked good in a suit. But why was he wearing a suit? And near a fire. He seemed out of place.
He moved toward her, his hands out.
Simone’s body started to tremble. “This is wrong,” she whispered, and ran.
He came after her immediately. “Simone. Wait.”
She kept going until she tripped on a damn rock and went down hands and face first into the wet sand.
Sam fell next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Are you alright?”
Simone spit out some sand and wiped her mouth. There was no doubt she was a mess, but she wasn’t going to get another shot.
Her inner voice kept telling her to keep calm—let Sam talk, let him explain—but her mouth had other plans.
“No, I’m not okay, Sam. Do I look okay?” She pushed herself over into a sitting position.
His serious expression turned light and she noticed him fight not to laugh. His beautiful eyes crinkled at the sides. It made her want to cry. “You’ve got some…” he paused and brushed sand from her lip. The touch of his finger sent a jolt of need through her body. “Let me help you.” He stood and held out a hand.
Her ass was wet and she was shivering with cold, but she didn’t want his help. “I don’t need you.” Simone spat the words angrily, fighting back tears.
He sighed and knelt beside her. “It’s cold. At least come back to the fire.”
She turned away; watching the waves crash over each other and roll toward them, then pull back. The tide was coming in. A cloud covered the bright moon and the world went dark. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust. When they did she saw Sam still kneeling in front of her, his hands on his thighs, his face serious.
He moved closer so she could feel his breath on her mouth. It was minty fresh. She held her breath, shocked. He wouldn’t dare. Then his mouth was on hers. Soft. Tender. Simone wanted to resist him, tell him to get the hell away from her, but she couldn’t. She’d missed his lips. So, so much.
Slowly she kissed him back. His fingers gripped her sweatshirt and he pulled her to him. She wrapped her fingers in his hair. He deepened the kiss, opening her mouth, and every feeling she’d pushed away over the past two years came flooding back like he’d never been gone. Suddenly she couldn’t get close enough to him. She wanted him to make her feel, the way he’d always made her feel before. She needed it, even if it was just one more time.
Sam stood and pulled her up with him, then lifted her in his arms. She lay against his chest, her hand near his heart. It beat rapidly. He carried her back to the cave and set her down next to the fire. Then he removed his suit coat and wrapped it around her.
It wasn’t the same as his arms, and she missed him, more than she cared to admit. But then again, she knew she’d been lying to keep herself from sinking into a pit of depression. Looking at him, seeing the way he looked at her, she knew he still cared. “Why did you leave?” she whispered, her bottom lip trembling.
He brought over a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a blanket and sat down. Simone waited while he wrapped the blanket around the two of them, opened the wine, and poured them each a glass.
Simone was still wet, but she was beginning to warm up.
Finally he spoke, a deep timbre that warmed her even more. “I’m from Texas. Did I ever tell you that?”
“No, but you always wore that cowboy hat. I guessed either Texas, Montana, Colorado, or Wyoming.” Simone took a large gulp of the red wine.
He smirked. “Yeah, my mom and dad are from San Antonio, but I live in Dallas.”
She nodded, forcing herself to stay quiet, let him talk.
He cleared his throat and shifted in the blanket. “I was married,” he finally whispered.
Her mind screamed. No. No. No. No. No. Married? But she clung to one word, “was.” Did that mean he wasn’t married any longer? “Was?” she asked, finishing off the wine, grabbing the bottle, and refilling her glass. She had a feeling she’d need it.
“Yes. We married right out of high school, attended college together. Started our careers together.” He smiled and her heart shattered.
“What happened?”
He gulped down the rest of his drink. “She died,” he finally said.
That surprised her, tore at her heart. “I-I’m sorry, Sam.” She took another drink. Is that why he left suddenly? Had he left her and she died? Was it her fault?
He stared into the fire, the flames dancing in his faraway eyes. “She was the love of my life. I knew with absolute certainty there would never be another woman for me…” He trailed off.
Simone stopped breathing.
What did that make her and their time together? A booty call? Had he come back to try to forget her? That seemed like a lot of work. The man was extraordinarily handsome. Simone had no doubt droves of women wanted him. So maybe it was guilt. He came back to tell her he was sorry he’d left abruptly.
But she didn’t want to hear that. She realized the only words she wanted to hear from Sam were words that meant they were supposed to be together.
His wife had been the love of his life, but Sam was the love of hers, regardless how little time she had left.
Summer Love Page 2
