Katie held up a finger. She dialed her phone. “Daddy, this is Katie. I need a favor.”
Turns out that once a Middleton meant always a Middleton. And being a Middleton came with perks.
Chapter Thirty
“Call him.” Deanna flopped onto the sofa across from Samantha.
They sat in her Malibu Canyon house and looked out the wall of glass. The sky was blue and crystal clear, but her mood was black. Not even chocolate made her smile. What seemed like a reasonable choice a few weeks ago was clouded with uncertainty now.
She’d done what she could for Aspen Cove and followed up on the recovery of Doc and Bobby. She’d even taken measures to build the town a firehouse so they could have their own truck. If they couldn’t afford to pay for firemen, she was prepared to cover that expense as well. No person should have to depend on volunteers to save their life.
Samantha thought she’d done the right thing by leaving, but her broken heart told her differently. She ached for Dalton. There wasn’t a second of any day where she didn’t think of him, feel the ghost of his love hold her, kiss her, and love her.
“I can’t call him. I left him. He probably hates me.” She’d recited the letter she’d written him over and over in her mind. “I’m a coward.”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because I couldn’t face him. I left him a Dear John letter. Who does that? I write lyrics that every woman feels, but I couldn’t talk to the man I love. I should have told him face to face, but I knew … I knew he’d tell me to stay, and I knew I wouldn’t say no.”
“You need to fix this.” Deanna kicked her feet up on the coffee table.
“I have. Everyone is okay. Workers will start on Dalton’s house next week. He’ll show up, and it will be done. I’ve set up funds for the injured. Planned for the future. It’s fixed.”
“For being such a smart woman, you are so stupid.” Deanna turned her laptop toward Samantha. “Do you see this folder?” She pressed her computer across the space between them. “Over a hundred messages asking for you to call him. You think he wants to tell you he hates you? This isn’t fixed.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Her voice wavered. She thought she’d cried herself dry, but there seemed to be an endless supply of tears for Dalton.
“You were supposed to stay. You didn’t, so the next best thing is to go home and make it right.”
Samantha covered her face with her hands. “I don’t have a home.”
Deanna moved to the space beside her. “Home isn’t always a place. It can be a feeling. It can be as simple as knowing someone loves you, no matter what.” She pressed her finger against the computer screen. “Dalton Black is your home.”
Three days later, Samantha stood backstage while the crowd chanted, “In-di-go, In-di-go, In-di-go”. She couldn't believe that not too long ago a different crowd chanted the same. That night she’d walked into the mass of fans and disappeared, hoping to find clarity, only to come back more confused.
She adjusted the blue wig and applied her watermelon lip gloss. It reminded her of Dalton. Everything reminded her of Dalton. Since her return, all she ate was grilled cheese and tomato soup because it made her feel closer to him.
She gave Jake his exclusive interview, which was more about Dalton than about her. She asked him to send it to print the day before the concert. If people were going to talk about him, she wanted them to know the truth. Jake had found Bethany Waters and interviewed her as well. She told the world her story about the man who saved her life.
Samantha asked Jake to send a copy directly to Dalton because at the end of the interview when Jake asked her if she had any regrets, she told him yes. Her biggest regret was abusing herself. By leaving Dalton, she’d eviscerated her heart and soul. The longer she was separated from him, the more battered she felt. She’d given him her heart and left it behind. The last line of the story said, “I gave away my heart to the most deserving of men. I abandoned him in the most cowardly way. I only hope that he’ll forgive me and tell me to come home.”
Ray asked where home was for Samantha White, and she pressed her hand over her heart. The place where she’d tattooed his name. “Home is where Dalton is.”
“Indigo, you’re on in five,” Oliver Shepherd called from the door of her dressing room. They’d had several meetings concerning their future together. He’d released her from her last album, hoping to sign her for three more. He wasn’t the enemy. She’d been her own enemy. She’d allowed her fears to paralyze her. She’d allowed Dave to take over because it was easier. One thing she learned along the way was, easy wasn’t always best. Some things were worth fighting for.
Freedom.
Family.
The truth.
Her reputation.
Friendship.
Change.
Love.
Those were the things worth battling for. The hardest fight should always be for love.
Samantha looked down at her cast. In faded silver letters, she saw Dalton’s inscription. “It’s all about love.”
Yes, it is. She put on her headset and made her way to the side of the stage. Deanna stood by with a bottle of water.
“Everything you want is out there.”
Samantha gave her a weak smile. “Not everything.”
Deanna gave her a push. “Yes. Everything,” she said and winked.
The only thing Samantha wanted was a second chance. She put on her game face and rushed out to please the crowd. “Hello, Los Angeles!” Her voice didn’t reveal her brokenness. Dave had been right about one thing. The fans looked to her for hope and inspiration. She’d give it to them.
She looked into the crowd of thousands and wondered how many of them had ever felt a love as profound as she felt for Dalton. “I’m so happy to be here tonight.”
She looked at the signs people held that said, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, but I want to start off by saying that you have to love yourself first. Allow yourself to be loved. Many of you are the victims of abuse. Love doesn’t come easy, but open your hearts because love is worth it.”
She walked to the edge of the stage and shook a few hands. The band played one of the songs she wrote while in Aspen Cove. “This is a song I wrote for a very special man. I want Dalton Black to know that I love him. It’s called ‘One Hundred Wishes’. My wishes begin and end with him.” She took a deep breath. Saying his name made her heart race. “A woman told me that wishes cost nothing; that thoughts were important. Let’s hear everyone scream out a wish.” She held out her microphone while the crowd screamed their wishes.
Her headset crackled and hissed. She adjusted the volume, hoping the interference would disappear. She tapped on the earpiece, but it didn’t help. In a low voice she recognized, she heard, “My wish is for you to come home. Come home to me.” It played over and over and over until it was no longer in her headset but echoing through the stadium. The electronic displays flashed the words come home, come home, come home to me.
Confused, she turned to stage left where she’d left Deanna and found she was no longer there. She turned to stage right, which was also empty. The beat of the song got louder. Dalton’s voice was modulated to fill in the backbeat. She moved to center stage, confused. She lifted the microphone to sing. The crowd parted, and up the steps walked Dalton Black, dressed to kill. He was a man of simple tastes, but he made jeans and a black T-shirt look better than an Armani suit.
Samantha stopped dead still. She blinked several times to make sure he was there. The crowd went wild. Many held signs that read, “Dalton is my hero.” Her heart nearly seized.
“See … wishes do come true.” She threw herself into his arms. After he twirled her around and kissed her stupid, he set her down. “You’ve got a concert to perform.”
She looked into his blue eyes. How she ever thought they looked like cold steel, she didn’t know. They were filled with molten blue love. “Don’t leave me.”
/> He shook his head. “Never.”
“What happens next?” Afraid that he’d disappear, she didn’t want to let him go.
“I’m taking you home.”
“You’re here. I’m home already.”
For the next hour and fifty-two minutes, Samantha sang about love and hope, and she believed every word that came out of her mouth because clarity wasn’t always found in the messiness of life. It was found in the eyes of love.
Chapter Thirty-One
Samantha had been back in Aspen Cove for a week, but no one would have known it because she and Dalton barely left the bed. They got up only to shower, eat, and binge-watch Supernatural.
“You’re really buying the paper mill?” Dalton’s hand rubbed her bare stomach, which was no longer concave. His skills in the kitchen came second only to his skills in the bedroom. His fingers trailed up her stomach to her chest, where she’d tattooed the word ‘Dalton’s’ over her heart.
“Yes, I’m investing in some much-needed improvements here in Aspen Cove.”
“What are you going to do here?”
She rolled her naked body on top of him. She knew he wouldn’t have much to say because he couldn’t think when they were naked.
“I’m building a recording studio. It’s a bit selfish, but I never want to leave home again.”
“Sometimes we have to be selfish.” Several times, their friends had come to the door to say hello and Dalton growled at them that he wasn’t ready to share her, but tonight was karaoke night, and he had no choice. “What else is going in the paper mill?”
She ran her hands down his chest. Goosebumps rose beneath her fingertips. “It will be the Guild Creative Center. I want it to be a place where artistic people can thrive. Wes is putting put a culinary center next to a recording studio because I like to eat. I hope this sexy chef I know will be willing to work there on the days he’s not working at Maisey’s. I’m thinking maybe you can sell ready-made meals. You know, like take-and-bake. That would be a community service. No one would have to eat Sage’s frozen lasagna again.”
Dalton laughed. “I think we can negotiate on that.”
“Now you want to negotiate?” She leaned down and bit his lip.
“No, right now I want to make love to my girlfriend. Who will be my fiancée, and then my wife, and the mother of my perfect children.”
“Confident, are you?” She felt his confidence firm and long between her thighs.
“Would you have me any other way?” He lifted her hips and set her on top of him.
“I’ll have you any way I can get you.” She loved the way his eyes rolled back when she sank onto his length. The way he moaned her name when she rocked against him. The way loved flowed through his kisses.
“I’m all yours, baby.” Dalton turned them over so he was on top. He found the perfect rhythm that made her body sing. How lucky was she to make love to a man who proved to be as yummy on the inside as he looked on the outside?
They made love right up until they had to shower and leave.
At six o’clock, they were the first to arrive for karaoke night. Cannon and Sage stood behind the bar.
“Did you come up for air?” Cannon asked.
“No, we came up for wine.” Dalton slid onto a barstool and pulled Samantha into his lap.
“Are you hungry?” Sage wore a smile. In her hands were a spatula and a pan of frozen lasagna.
“No!” they said together.
“You’re being mean. It’s perfectly fine lasagna.”
Everyone including Cannon shook their heads.
Next came Doc, followed by a white-haired woman everyone greeted as Agatha. Samantha’s heart broke when Doc turned and she saw the oxygen tank and tubes. He wouldn’t be singing “Hound Dog” tonight.
Dalton wrapped his arms around her. “Not your fault. No one blames you.”
The door opened, and in walked Bobby and Louise Williams. She proudly displayed her baby bump and walked straight for Samantha.
“Thank you.”
Samantha sucked in a big breath.
“For what?”
“I know you thought what happened was a bad thing. It wasn’t a good thing, but it wasn’t your fault. I’m thanking you because I got to have Bobby home for several weeks. We claimed some quality time together. It was like when we dated. When he was my boyfriend and I was his girlfriend.”
“Doc has a girlfriend,” Sage sang.
“Come here, you.” Doc flagged her over. As soon as she got within range, he cuffed her lightly on the side of the head. “Get my Agatha a glass of wine. I’ll have a cup of joe. Tell me again when that sister of yours is coming to take over? Louise is bound to have her last baby before then if she doesn’t hurry.”
Samantha looked to Dalton. “Doc and Agatha?”
He shrugged. “I told you love was like a virus. I got it. You caught it, and Doc caught it. Never too old to give love a chance.”
A lot had happened while she was gone. “Lydia is coming?” she asked.
“That’s the rumor, but that’s all it is until she shows up.” Dalton caught the pint of beer Cannon slid down the bar.
Next in the door were Katie and Bowie. Katie ran up to Samantha. “Did Daddy’s jet work out okay?”
Samantha blushed. They had the plane to themselves and hit the mile high club twice on the short trip home. “It was amazing.” She turned to Dalton. “Do you think we should get a plane like that?”
His eyes grew wide. “Can you afford a plane like that?”
She could see the list of possibilities running through his imagination.
“Probably.”
Dalton tucked her close to his body and set his chin on top of her head. “No … but maybe we can get a dock and a Jet Ski.”
She picked up the glass of wine Cannon had poured her and smiled over the rim. “You’re cheap,” she told him.
“I may be cheap, but I’m not easy.”
She made a pfft sound and rolled her eyes. “You are so easy.” She turned in his lap and kissed him. Her voice softened. “Easy to love.”
Katie kicked off karaoke night with another oldie but goodie. When she finished, she brought the mic to Samantha, who was happy to get up and sing for her friends, but Dalton took it and walked her to the stage. He set her on a stool in the center and looked into her eyes.
“This is a onetime deal. I’d hate to subject the town to this more than once in a lifetime.” He picked his music and turned to Samantha. “This is for you.” When he sang ‘Amazed’ by Lonestar, she nearly fell off her seat. Though Dalton’s cooking skills and bedroom skills outshined his singing skills, the song was pitch-perfect because he sang to the deepest part of her heart. The part that belonged only to him.
When he finished, she was more in love with him than she thought possible.
When Samantha had walked off that stage in Denver months ago, there were three things she wanted more than money.
She wanted a life.
She wanted to love.
She wanted the freedom that came with being invisible.
Aspen Cove gave her life.
Dalton gave her love.
And Samantha realized she’d never be invisible. Not to her fans. Not to her friends. Not to the one man who hadn’t known her and saw who she was anyway.
As she looked around Bishop’s Brewhouse, she knew without a doubt she was home.
Excerpt from Redeeming Ryker
Raptor Savage didn’t put up with losers. He didn’t put up with laziness, and he didn’t put up with liars. Today, I was all three.
The sunbaked asphalt pulled at my sneakers. The trees whispered, ‘Turn around, run for your life.’ Each inchworm step I took closer to home slapped my backpack against my butt, but that was nothing compared to the ass-whoopin’ I’d get from Dad today.
My report on Abraham Lincoln had been due today, the same report I’d told my mom I’d finished, which meant I was a liar. I hadn’t done the stupid report.
Hiding out in the shop and listening to the War Birds talk strategy was more fun than writing about a dead president. That made me a lazy loser. I’d gotten a big, fat zero for my grade.
Dad would shout, The report is important, school and getting educated is the only job you have. And I’d roll my eyes or shake my head or just let my shoulders slump. Abraham Lincoln couldn’t teach me a thing. He was dead.
Ask me to write about the gun that killed him, and I would have brought home an easy A. Guns, I knew.
I snaked through the bikes lined up like dominoes in the gravel parking lot as my backpack slipped from my shoulders.
So many bikes at the club meant trouble. Dad was busy, so maybe I wouldn’t get a butt blistering after all.
As the president of the War Birds MC, this was Dad’s world, and Mom said he ran it like he was God.
God made the laws. He made the rules. He handed down the punishments. Raptor Savage could make people shake in their sneakers with the lift of an eyebrow. I got that look a lot.
Mom always said my spirited nature would serve me well when I grew up and took over the club. Dad always put an “if” before that statement. “If he grows up.”
I stepped back from the door and slipped around the side of the building. Mom was out back with my brothers, Silas and Decker. Next to them was that pesky little girl, Sparrow. She always looked up at me like I was a movie star.
“Glad you’re home, sweetie.” Mom never called me sweetie in front of anyone else, because that would make me seem like a sissy, but I liked when she said it. “Today’s Dad’s big meeting, so I need you to hang out here with the kids. I have to get inside and serve beer.”
I looked around the parking lot at the motorcycles I didn’t recognize. “Who’s here?”
“Friends of your father’s. It has nothing to do with you.”
I glared at the kids playing in the dirt. “That’s not true.” My voice didn’t sound like eight-year-old me. It sounded more like six-year-old Silas when Mom told him to take a bath. “I have to babysit, and that means it has everything to do with me.” I hated babysitting. Silas was fine. At six, he took care of himself. But Decker was just a baby, which meant diapers, and then there was Sparrow. She stuck to me like gum on a shoe.
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