Doc walked to the door. “I'll get her some pain meds. When I get back, only one of you better be naked.”
He shut the door behind him, giving them some privacy.
“Answer me truthfully. Are you in pain?”
She lifted the black cast. Her choice of color wasn’t lost on him. “It’s not that bad. Doc says it’s a hairline fracture. Should heal fine.”
He cupped her face. “You were a badass.”
She smiled and sat taller. “I kind of was. I feel good about it all.” She lifted her good hand and pulled him down for a kiss. “I’m glad Jake got those pictures.”
“You know him?”
“Yes, he’s around a lot. I told him I’d give him an exclusive interview a few days ago. I guess that went a long way in his book. He chased me down here and showed me the footage he recorded. I sent him straight to the sheriff’s office.”
“Dave is furious.”
Her smile lit up the room. “Dave is fired. I put in a call to my agent, and he’s agreed to end the contract. I was so stupid to sign such a long deal with both of them. Talk about young and dumb. I didn’t know any better.”
“That’s the thing: When you know better, you do better.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Oprah said that a long time ago.”
He’d never admit his love for Oprah to anyone but her. “Her show was my guilty pleasure for six years. It was all reruns because she went off the air in 2011, but I watched and learned.”
She pressed her lips to his. “You are always a surprise to me.”
“One of you better be undressed, and it better be Dalton,” Doc’s voice sounded from the end of the hallway.
“That’s my cue.” He unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall to the floor.
She hopped off the table to get a good look at his leg. “It still looks so painful.”
“You have the most amazing way of making me forget the discomfort.”
Samantha hummed, which made it near impossible for Dalton to not get hard. Her voice did things to his heart, but when she hummed in that low throaty way, it vibrated through his body and settled between his legs.
“You ready?”
Dalton hopped onto the cold table and eyed Samantha. “Behave yourself.”
“What? I’m working on a melody.” She went back to humming the low tones that made him stiff. He kept his eyes on Doc’s bulbous nose and overgrown eyebrows. That worked well to kill his desire.
Doc gave him a quick once-over and applied some antibiotic ointment to the deepest wounds. “You’ll live.” He walked to the door. “I don’t normally tell my patients to spend more time inside, but I’m thinking you two are dangerous when left in the wild. Go home and climb into bed.”
Dalton’s eyes grew wide. “You heard him, he said we have to get into bed.”
Samantha tossed him his jeans. “I heard him. Hurry up.”
Dalton caught Doc before he walked out the door. “No Life Saver for me?”
Doc nodded toward Samantha. “She got the last one. You’ll have to see if she’ll share.”
Samantha bolted past Doc toward the pharmacy. “Not sharing. You’ll have to get your own.”
“Kids,” Doc grumbled.
Because they’d both been driven to town, they walked back home. Dalton wrapped his arm around Samantha’s shoulders. He couldn’t help hearing Dave’s words in his head. “She’ll be gone by the time you get out of here.”
“I know your instinct to leave is strong … but don’t.”
She slowed her walk to a crawl. “Tell me something good that’s happened since my arrival?”
It twisted his gut that she didn’t see them as being something good. “We’re good. Don’t forget, we’re stronger together.”
She held up her cast. “I don’t know. I’m pretty strong on my own.” She threaded her left arm through his right and leaned against him. “I’m pretty sure Aspen Cove will breathe a sigh of relief when I’m gone.”
“If you leave, I may never breathe again.” Dalton hated that he’d let her get so deeply imbedded inside his heart. Weeks ago, he teased his friends about catching a love virus. Apparently, he had been exposed and had no immunity to Samantha White. He was head-over-heels in love with her, and that scared him more than anything.
Chapter Twenty-Six
They’d almost made it to her cabin when the sheriff pulled his cruiser beside them.
He rolled down his window. “You didn’t stop by to fill out the paperwork to press charges.”
Samantha bit her lip. “Sorry.” She had glanced at the sheriff’s office when they walked through town. She’d taken care of the Dave problem when she called the Shepherd Agency. To do anything more would be like poking a bear with a sharp stick.
“I can’t hold him without charges.” Sheriff Cooper exited the cruiser and stood against the door. A few bees flew by to investigate and then left.
Samantha looked past the boxed hives to where a few reporters covered in netting held their cameras at the ready. She’d always hated how the press invaded her privacy, but her thoughts on that changed the minute Jake offered pictures to exonerate Dalton.
“I’m not sure that’s wise.”
Dalton stepped in front of her. “Press charges, or he’ll come back for round two like Todd.”
She knew they were looking out for her, but that was part of the problem. No one hesitated to tell her what they wanted her to do. No one asked here what she wanted, and right now that was peace and time alone with Dalton.
“I don’t have to press charges, and I don’t want to.” She hated that she sounded so snippy, but pressing charges kept Dave in her life. She wanted him gone. She looked at Dalton. “It’s the week of second chances. Todd got one. You got one. Dave gets one.”
“So, no charges?” Sheriff Cooper frowned.
“Not unless he’s charging me.”
“Nope.”
Samantha shrugged. “No charges, then.”
“Can’t say I’m on the same page as you. He seems like an unpredictable man.”
Understatement. “I want this to be over. Charging him keeps him in my life.”
“Your call.” He opened the door and climbed back into his cruiser. “I’ll take him to his car and escort him to the town line. Keep your eyes open.” He rolled up his window and headed back toward town.
“It’s a mistake to let him off. He broke your hand.” Dalton glanced down at the black cast.
“I broke my hand on his nose. Really, he could press charges. He’s not. Let it go.” She walked past him, taking a circuitous route around the buzzing hives toward the remaining reporters. She had to give Abby Garrett credit. Everyone was afraid of bees.
She looked behind her and waved for Dalton to follow. He looked at the hives and frowned. Even Mr. Big and Brawny feared the buzz.
She approached Jake and gave him a hug. “Thanks for coming to our rescue.”
Dalton advanced with caution. She knew his experience with the press had been less than favorable. Hers had too, but maybe it was the way she thought of the press. She’d done a lot of swatting at them and avoiding them. Like the bees, they stung when they weren’t happy.
“Dalton? Do you have time for a few questions?”
The grimace on his face screamed no, but he walked forward and stood next to Samantha. His body was tense until she leaned into him and rested her head on his chest.
“Can we get a shot of you two?” Jake asked. He didn’t have his camera pointed and focused like the others. He held it up and lifted his shoulders in question.
She turned to Dalton. “You okay with that?”
“Sure.” He wrapped his arm around her. She settled her cast against his stomach. “Anyone have a Sharpie that would show up on black?”
A young photographer in the back held up a pack of metallic, felt-tip pens. “These should work, they’re good for proofs.”
Dalton took out the silver Sharpie and drew a heart on Sama
ntha’s cast. In the center he wrote, “It’s all about love.”
Ray asked how they’d met, and Dalton told him that Samantha almost burned down her cabin the first night she was here.
“Cooking?” he asked.
“No, trying not to freeze,” she replied.
“Do you love her?” Jake asked Dalton.
He looked at her and didn’t deny it. “How could I not? Look at her.” He smiled. “And have you heard her sing?”
“What about you, Indigo?” a girl off to the side called. “Are you in love with Dalton Black?” Samantha waited for her to say convicted killer as if it were his last name, but she didn’t.
Samantha looked into Dalton’s eyes. She’d never said the words to him. She wanted it to be a private moment, but to say anything less than the truth would be wrong.
“How could I not be? Look at him.” She squeezed her arms around his waist. “Have you tasted anything he cooks?” She implied that love was there, but the words were for him alone.
There was collective conversation about the diner and his blue-plate specials. Turns out they had put two and two together, but as long as he was cooking, they didn’t care.
Ray stepped forward. “What’s next for you?”
She honestly couldn’t say. “I was supposed to do a benefit concert for women and children suffering from domestic violence, but the misrepresentation of Dalton in the press has put that in jeopardy.”
“It has?” Dalton stepped away. “They canceled the concert because of me?” He ran his hand through his hair. “That’s ridiculous. Those families need support.” He paced in front of the hives. It was said that animals and insects could sense tension and fear. The hive buzzed louder. Samantha and the press moved farther away. “It’s never going to end, is it? I did something six years ago, and it changed my life. I did my time. When will it go away? Hundreds of abused women and children will suffer because I protected Bethany Waters. It hardly seems fair. And you know what?” He turned toward the small gathering. “I’d do it again.” Dalton turned and walked toward his cabin.
Samantha stood in the center of the group. She pointed toward Dalton’s retreating figure. “That right there is your story. He’s not a monster. He killed a monster. He knew exactly what that looked like growing up. He was the son of one. I knew what that looked like too. When I was nine, my mother and I went on the run. We looked over our shoulders until I was sixteen. That’s when we found out he’d died in a single-car accident. The scariest thing about that day was, he died in the town where we lived. He’d found us and had gone to a bar to celebrate.”
“Did he say Bethany Waters?” Jake asked as he jotted down the name.
“Yes. It’s public record. His entire story is public record if anyone wanted to know the truth. The problem is, the truth doesn’t always sell the story.” She handed the silver pen back to its owner and looked down at her cast. “It’s all about love.” That was a wise thing to remember.
Samantha found Dalton at his place. He was in the kitchen doing what he did best. “Hey.” He continued to season the roast he had on the counter. “Look at me.” She stepped in front of him and pressed her head to his chest. “It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. Look at what my presence has done to you—to others.”
She sighed. Not the sigh of surrender, but a sigh of heartwarming goodness. “Yes, look what you did to me. You cared for me. You protected me. You loved me. Despite everything that’s happened over the last couple of weeks, I’d do it all over again because I’m a better person when I’m with you.”
“It’s a good thing Dave never let you out of his sight, or you might know what a good man looks like, and I’d never have had a chance with you.”
“Don’t bring up Dave when I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy and romantic.”
He pulled a bag of baby carrots out of the refrigerator and spread them around the roast. “Is your agent really going to let him go?” Next came the new potatoes.
“Dalton, you’re shriveling my libido with talk about work.” She plucked a stray carrot from the bag. “That’s what he said. He told me he put in a call and will wait until Dave calls back.”
“You think he’ll do it?” He turned and slid the pan into the preheated oven.
“If he wants to work with me, he’ll follow through. My contract is up after the next album and the benefit concert.”
She reached around him for a glass, filled it with water, and popped two of the pain pills Doc Parker gave her. “Do you want to talk about Dave and Oliver, or do you want to take my mind off how much my hand hurts? I’ll take your mind off how unfair the world can be.”
He set the timer. “We have a couple of hours. Let’s go to bed.”
“Now, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
There was nothing more comforting than comfort food. Pot roast with carrots and potatoes topped that list with honors. They sat in front of his big screen television, ate, and binged Supernatural like it was crack and they were addicts.
A fire crackled in the fireplace. Samantha curled into Dalton’s side. It was hard to think this wasn’t ideal, but their relationship was complicated. In bed, they were perfection. In the bubble of their world, they were ideal, but they hadn’t talked about tomorrow or next week or next year.
“This is perfect,” he said. He moved them both so they were lying on the couch with her back to his front.
“It’s too bad it isn’t real.” She melted against him like her body no longer had bones.
They’d loved the tension out of each other for an hour earlier, and she put tension back in him with those words.
“What part isn’t real?”
She turned around to face him. “The part we don’t talk about. The part where I have to go back to my life and leave you to yours.”
“We can work it out.” He had to stay positive, or the feelings of loss could swallow him whole. The thought of a day without Samantha would be as bad as the day the door closed and locked him in prison. That might have been better because he had a definitive date when things would go back to normal—his new normal.
Samantha lived states away. She spent months on the road. Her lifestyle didn’t lend itself to normal. He remembered Doc’s words. Samantha didn’t come here to be Indigo. She came here to figure out who she was.
“You want a long-distance relationship?”
He rose up on one elbow and pushed the hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear so he could see her eyes. All truth was in Samantha’s dark eyes. Looking into hers, he saw that she loved him as much as he loved her.
“Love looks different for everyone.” He kissed her forehead. “I thought my life was pretty good before you came along. You showed up, and bam—I realized I was lying to myself. I’d be lying to you if I said long distance is what I want. It’s not. I want you in my life and my bed every night, but I’ll take what I can get. Some of you is infinitely better than none of you.”
“You really should set your standards higher.” She snuggled into his side and inhaled. She breathed him in like she was collecting his scent for a future he wouldn’t be in.
“Higher than a hot-as-hell pop star who rocks my world and makes me feel like I can conquer anything when she’s near?”
She laughed, and the vibration felt good against his chest. “When you put it that way, I guess I’m quite a catch.”
“Have I caught you?”
“Dalton Black, I fell for you the day you left flowers and milk on my porch.”
“Don’t forget the bread and eggs,” he said. “I only bring eggs to girls I’m sure to fall in love with.” He pulled her against him and held her tight.
Her muffled voice asked, “Are there a lot of girls you’ve loved?”
“Three in my whole life.”
She narrowed her eyes. He loved the way she couldn’t help her jealousy.
“Were they pretty?”
&
nbsp; “Stunning.”
“Hmm. Do you see them around?”
He thumbed her chin so she was forced to look at him. “One is my mother. I see her regularly. One was Bea. It was a sad day when she left us, but she left a legacy of love. The last girl … lately I’ve seen her a lot, but who knows what the future holds. All I know is I want one with her. I love you, Samantha. I don’t care that you’re a pop star. I don’t care if you have a hundred houses dotted around the world or a million dollars in the bank. None of that matters to me. All I care about is making you happy and making you fall in love with me.”
She swallowed hard like she was eating sand. “I’ve never said these words to anyone, but I love you, Dalton. Not because you’re sex on a stick or because you have the most talented tongue in the universe or because you cook better than Bobby Flay. All I want is to care for you and love you so you don’t regret the day you left me flowers and milk and bread and eggs.”
She kissed him tenderly and passionately, and although she said the words for the first time, his heart felt like she’d told him a thousand times. When the kiss ended, he rose to a seated position. “Bobby Flay has cooked for you?”
She shook from a full belly laugh. “Yes. So have Wolfgang Puck, Gordon Ramsay, and Mario Batali, but they’ve got nothing on you.” She curled into the corner of his leather couch and propped her feet on his lap. “You think I have a hundred houses?”
“No, but it sounded good. I imagine if we’re going to try to make a go of this thing, and since we both let the L-word out, we should be transparent about our lives.”
“You want transparency?”
“No, all I want is to be honest with you. Our relationship started on a mound of omissions. I’m an ex-felon. I killed a man. I’m a cook. Actually, I’m a cook at a diner. My employment potential is limited. I’ll never be able to give you what you’re used to, but I’ll love you deeply. I don’t care if your hair is blue, brown, or gray. I’ll love you anyway.” He reached over and laid his hand on her heart. “I love you here, and that’s all that matters.”
One Hundred Wishes Page 18
