“You replacing me?”
She walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Not possible. Now go get your girl.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. He tossed his apron on the prep table and bolted for the front door.
He found Samantha sitting under the Wishing Wall, filling out notes. So immersed in her task, he went unnoticed until he kissed her cheek.
She looked up, startled. “You’re early.”
He sat in the chair across from her. “I couldn’t wait.”
“I’m glad.”
She had dozens of folded notes in front of her. Dalton wondered if they were her wishes.
“Can I grant any of those?”
Her lush lips broadened into a bright smile. She rummaged through the pile and pulled out one and handed it to him.
Across the center of the pink paper it read:
I wish for endless kisses from Dalton Black.
“Granted. You want to start those here and go back home?” It was funny how his place had become their home in days. It felt right.
She passed another note to him.
I wish Dalton would take me for a ride on his motorcycle.
“You’re easy.”
“Yes, but I’m not cheap.”
He looked over his shoulder. The day was perfect for a ride. “Let’s go. I’ll give you the ride of a lifetime.”
She gathered her notes and stuffed them inside her bag.
“I think you’ve given me one already. I’m interested in a simple trip around the lake with my body pressed to yours. Katie tells me there’s nothing like the wind in my hair and a Harley between my legs.”
“I used to think that was nirvana. That was before I met you and settled between your legs.”
“You’re such a flirt.” She walked to the door and opened and closed it several times. The bell rang a few times before Katie walked in from the storage room.
She came forward, patting Sahara on the back. “You leaving?”
Dalton’s heart stopped when she wrapped her arms around him and said, “My man’s taking me for a ride.”
Her man. If there were ever a chest-pounding moment, it was that second she claimed him.
“I like being your man.”
When they got to his cabin, he didn’t go inside because he knew once they were behind closed doors, the first kiss would lead to more, and they’d never leave. Samantha’s wish was to ride on the back of his Harley. That was easy to grant. When they got back, he’d work on the endless kisses.
Chapter Eighteen
Never in her existence had she been so free. On the back of Dalton’s Harley, she held on for dear life, let the wind blow in her hair, and lived honestly—well, mostly honestly.
They stopped at points along the way where Dalton pointed out landmarks like the cove surrounded by aspens for which the town was named.
On the far side of the lake, he pulled into a parking lot where a single wooden shack sat surrounded by picnic tables and trash cans. An old tin sign that read, ‘Sam’s Scoops’ hung over the open window. Leaning across the counter was a middle-aged man who hadn’t seen a razor or scissors in years.
“Dalton, my man.” He nearly fell out of the shack trying to fist bump Dalton.
“Sam, what’s the flavor of the day?”
“I’d say it’s her.” He nodded toward Samantha. “She looks good.”
“She’s mine.” Dalton wrapped his arms possessively around Samantha.
“Well, then.” He turned around and pointed to the sign, “if you’re talking ice cream, I’ve got Breakfast in Bed, which is maple ice cream with donut pieces and glazed bacon; Lickin’ Lizard, which is vanilla ice cream and gummy worms; and Unicorn Poop, which is basically rocky road with the addition of Pop Rocks.” He smiled at them like he’d recited a Pulitzer Prize–winning novel. “What’s your poison?”
The horror on her face must have been obvious. Who in their right mind wanted to eat anything called Unicorn Poop, or worms—gummy or not? The breakfast flavor didn’t sound half bad if the ingredients were served individually.
“Trust me?” Dalton winked at her.
Her trust wasn’t given lightly, but she did trust him with everything. “I do.”
“We’ll take a scoop of each.” He looked at Samantha. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted Sam’s ice cream.”
“My fear is I won’t live after I’ve tasted it.”
“I heard that, young lady.” Sam’s gravelly voice gave her the impression he hadn’t missed a smoke in years. He pushed a plastic bowl forward and sprinkled something chocolate coated on top. “A little something extra.” He smiled wide enough for his overgrown beard to split and show his lips and teeth. “Chocolate covered ants. You’ll love the texture.”
Dalton paid, picked up the bowl and led her to a table where they sat side by side.
Her lip curled in disgust. “I’m not eating bugs.”
“No ants, only chocolate covered crispy rice.” Dalton scooped a spoon of Unicorn Poop and pressed it to her mouth. “Open up.”
Her tongue darted out to grab the tiniest taste. When the chocolate hit and the Pop Rocks burst, she was sold. “That’s amazing.”
They shared bite after bite until the bowl was empty.
“Did I lie?”
“I’m not sure you have it in you to lie.”
His expression turned serious. “Not about ice cream.”
There was something behind his statement—something that he was keeping to himself. She couldn’t fault him. She hadn’t divulged everything about herself either. Rather than dwell on the past, she dug right into her critique. “I love Unicorn Poop.” She made a face. “Can’t believe I said that.” She dipped her finger into the bowl to swipe up an ‘ant’. Before she could put it into her mouth, Dalton wrapped his lips around her finger and sucked it clean. Every cell in her body lit on fire. His tongue had the kind of talent that should be boxed and sold. “Breakfast in Bed was good, but I prefer yours. Not a huge fan of the worms, only because they’re hard to chew when they’re cold.”
He looked at her with lazy bedroom eyes. It was the same look that melted her into the bed each night.
“And I thought you were a fan of hard worms.”
“Really?” She knuckled him in the chest. Not hard enough to hurt but enough for him to feel it. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
“Are you defending my manhood?” The aw-shucks look didn’t fit the big man at her side.
“Just telling it like it is. Now take me home and show off your worm.”
Dalton moved quickly when motivated, and anything to do with her and him naked had him focused.
The forty-five minutes it took to get there seemed like only twenty to get home. He pulled into her driveway so she could run inside and get some clean clothes. When she got to the door, Samantha stopped cold. It was cracked open, and her latest album played in the background.
She scurried backward.
Dalton watched her return. “Looking for one of those endless kisses?”
Her heart pounded in her chest. Blood pumped so hard, she heard nothing but the whoosh in her ears. Words caught in her throat.
“What’s wrong?” He looked past her to the opened door, and he was gone.
She pulled her phone from her bag and dialed the sheriff. She croaked out that someone was in her cabin and Dalton was confronting the intruder.
Sheriff Cooper let out a string of expletives that could make a hooker blush before he said he was on his way.
Samantha was torn between staying put and offering Dalton help. Her mind raced as she played out every scenario. What if it was her manager? What if it was a robber? What if Dalton was in danger? That was the thought that moved her forward and up the steps.
“Get out!” She heard an unrecognizable voice scream. The voice was too high to be Dalton and too low to be female.
She snuck inside the doorway with her phone in her hand. It
was ridiculous that her only weapon was a palm-sized plastic box. She shouldn’t have worried. Dalton was there, and if he could, he would protect her.
In the corner by the lit fireplace, he towered over a cowering young man. When the intruder saw her, he hopped to his feet and yelled, “Indigo! You’re here.”
“Todd?” She recognized the kid from Chachi’s. “What are you doing here?” Samantha knew what he was doing. He was demanding his date. As she looked around the room, she would have been touched if she weren’t so freaked out. A bottle of cheap wine and two glasses sat on the coffee table. A bouquet of daisies replaced the flowers Dalton had given her. That brought a level of anger she didn’t know she was capable of, but the worst thing was the framed pictures he’d set around the room. He’d photoshopped a life for them. He’d taken publicity shots and put himself in each one.
Before Todd could answer, Sheriff Cooper burst inside the cabin with his hand on his weapon. He noticed the young man cowering in the corner. “Thank God.” He walked to Dalton, who seemed to grow larger by the second and shoved him back. “Go home, Dalton. You don’t need this trouble.”
“No.” The word came out in an angry growl. “I’m not leaving Samantha.”
Todd shook his head. “She’s not Samantha. That’s Indigo.” He looked at the sheriff. “I can show you.” He pointed to his back pocket.
The sheriff nodded, and Samantha knew everything good about her life would end in seconds. The kid pulled out his wallet and let a strip of photos fall like dominoes. It was an act more suitable for a proud parent than a fan. But Todd wasn’t any admirer; he’d proved himself to be a true fanatic.
Dalton lunged forward to grab the photos.
Samantha saw the recognition in his eyes. “It’s you.”
What could she say but the truth? “Yes, it’s me, and I can explain.”
He stepped back and looked at her, then did something unexpected. He smiled. “I like the brown hair better.”
“Dude, that’s Indigo.” Todd moved forward, but the sheriff stopped his progress. “Have you heard her sing?”
Dalton’s smile widened. “Yes, I have, and it’s almost a religious experience.” He wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “You could have trusted me with the truth.”
“I wanted you to like me for me, not for who everyone thinks I am.”
“I more than like you Samantha. I lo—”
“What do you want to do about this one?” Sheriff Cooper interrupted. His hand circled Todd’s arm. He dragged him forward. “There is a list of charges you could file, including breaking and entering.”
“She can’t press charges. I’m a fan.”
Samantha stepped forward. Dalton stepped in front of her protectively. Before her eyes, he morphed into a mass of agitation. The tension rolled off him in heated waves.
“I could have killed you.” Dalton exchanged looks with the sheriff. “You don’t walk into someone’s house uninvited. What the hell were you thinking?”
“It’s okay.” Samantha slid in front of Dalton and placed her hand on his chest. Immediately, his tension eased. “I remember another man rushing into my house uninvited.” She turned to Todd. “How old are you?”
“Twenty,” he said proudly.
Sheriff Cooper pointed to the alcohol. “Who sold you that?”
“I stole it,” Todd said, and then blanched. “I mean, I found it.”
“Right.” The sheriff turned to Samantha. “You pressing charges?”
Part of her wanted to press charges so Todd would learn a lesson. Part of her figured everyone needed a second chance. “No, but I better not see him again unless he’s in the front row of a concert.” She tried to give him a wicked mean scowl but couldn’t pull it off.
“Let’s go.” Sheriff Cooper led Todd to the door. The young man reached for a picture he set on the entry table. “Can you sign this?”
“Out,” Dalton bellowed.
Todd didn’t stall. He rushed out of the house with the sheriff giving him a list of laws he’d broken.
When Samantha turned around, Dalton was scrolling furiously through his phone.
“What are you doing?”
He flopped his big body onto the couch. “I just found out my girlfriend is famous. I’m downloading all your music.”
She laughed. “You’re crazy.”
He pulled her into his lap. “For you.”
“Perfect answer.” She crawled out of his lap and collected the photos of her fake wedding, her fake Valentine’s Day, her fake Christmas, and tossed them into the trash can. The same trash can where Todd had thrown Dalton’s flowers. After she exchanged the daisies for the discarded bouquet, she climbed back into Dalton’s lap.
“You’re not mad?”
“Mad for you.” He flipped her around to straddle him like she weighed nothing because in truth, she didn’t weigh much. Although, she was certain she had put on a few pounds. How could she not with Dalton constantly feeding her?
“I should have told you the truth.”
“You hinted at it in so many ways. If I were a smarter man, I would have listened and understood.”
“You pay attention to the important things.” She snuggled close to his chest, grateful that her lack of transparency hadn’t ruined what they had together.
“How about I take you to bed and you sing me a love song?”
“How about you take me to bed and make my body sing?”
“That’ll work.” He rose with her in his arms and carried her to her bedroom, where Dalton wasted no time making her body sing.
Exhausted after a night of passion, she fell asleep in the arms of the only man she felt safe around. The only man she trusted. The only man able to unlock her heart.
When a knock on the door woke them both the next morning, Dalton pulled on his T-shirt and his pants and grumbled all the way to the door. “This better be important, or you’re dead.”
She thought nothing of it until she recognized the click of cameras and the shouts of pushy reporters. This was all Todd’s doing. Now she wished she had pressed charges. At least she would have had an additional day or so before the shit hit the fan.
She rushed out the door to rescue Dalton.
“Indigo! How do you think your fans will respond to your relationship with Dalton Black, a convicted killer?”
She staggered back. She was hit with a question that completely floored her, and she had no answer.
“Assholes!” Dalton yelled at the dozen or so reporters camped in front of her house snapping photos. He pulled Samantha into his arms and took her inside where it was dead silent.
Chapter Nineteen
The pain in his chest was so profound, he thought he was having a heart attack. The horror on her face sliced through him like a rusty blade ripping out his soul. In reality, his heart had broken.
Samantha squirmed from his grip. “Tell me what they said is a lie.”
Dalton ran his hand through his hair, gripping and pulling until his they dropped to his side. “It’s not what it seems.” He moved toward her. She shuffled back until she hit the wall. Trapped, her eyes grew large, her face pale. She reminded him of an animal caught in a cage.
It gutted him to know she feared him when he’d never do anything to harm her. He loved her. Almost told her last night. Now he wished he would have because she’d never know the truth.
The one thing he’d always tried to be was the hero, and not the villain. He’d promised himself that his actions would never cause a woman to shake from terror, but Samantha was quaking like a leaf caught in a violent storm.
She slid down the wall like her bones had softened and could no longer hold her up. “Did you kill someone or not?” She didn’t ask for details, just the facts.
“Yes.”
“You need to leave.” She scrambled back into the corner and curled into a ball.
“Please, Samantha, you have to listen to the facts.”
“I need space,” sh
e yelled. “I need a minute to think.”
“Dammit, would you listen to me?” He didn’t mean to yell, but she had to give him a chance to explain.
“You know what my past is. You know I came from an abusive background. A man with a violent past is a deal breaker.”
“I’m not that man.” He dropped to his knees, feet from her, palms up so she wouldn’t feel threatened. “I’ve never hit a woman. I lived in that environment too. I’m not my father. I’m not your father.”
“How can you say that? You killed someone. They said a convicted killer.”
He couldn’t argue with her words or logic.
“Let me explain,” he pleaded again.
She looked up at him with her soulful eyes, and all he saw was hurt and distrust.
“Now that it’s out in the open, you want to explain? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We both kept truths from each other. Why are your omissions okay and mine aren’t?”
The look of hurt fell away and was replaced by anger. He’d rather have her furious than afraid any day.
“You’re right. We did. Let’s say them out loud. I’m a pop star. You’re a killer. How are those equal?” She laid her head on her knees. “Oh my God, the press will have a field day.”
“Screw the press. This has nothing to do with them.”
“Have you not heard a word I said? I’m a public figure.”
He wanted to laugh at the hypocrisy of it all. “Until last night, you were in hiding. Why is that?”
“Because of stuff like this. I can’t have a life.”
He inched his way forward. “We had a good life until this morning. I’m not any different from the man who made love to you last night. It was love Samantha. Don’t think for a second that you don’t own my heart. That you haven’t impacted me.”
“This changes everything.”
His shoulders sagged, and his arms dropped lifelessly next to his body. “It changes nothing.”
When she chewed her lip for a minute, he knew there was still a chance. He only hoped she’d let him back in.
One Hundred Wishes Page 13
