by Elise Faber
But there wasn’t any hesitation in Sam’s reaction.
The moment her lips pressed to his, he was a flurry of motion. One hand came up to weave into her hair, his tongue slid through the seam of her mouth, slipping inside to tangle with hers. The other arm wrapped tightly around her middle, crushing her against all the long, lean muscle she’d been admiring only seconds before.
And it felt . . . right.
Also incredible, of course. He was hot as hell, and he was kissing her with so much intensity that her mind spun.
But it wasn’t just heat, definitely wasn’t solely desire.
This man kissed her, and the rest of the world fell away.
His fingers slipped under the hem of her T-shirt, sliding up her rib cage, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.
She moaned, wrapped her uninjured leg around his hips. “Fuck.” A gasp as she felt the hard length of him against her pussy. She wanted both of their pants off. Now. Then his fingers teased the underside of her breasts and she arched, wanting it all, wanting him inside, wanting his hand to move higher, to slip under her bra. “Sam,” she pleaded.
He nipped her jaw, soothed the slight hurt with his tongue. “You sure, sweetheart?” A brush of one fingertip across her nipple. “We should probably discuss—”
Haley yanked his mouth to hers and kissed him until they had to break apart for air. “Fuck discussions,” she said and slipped her hand between them, pushing it into the front of his jeans and stroking the silken head of his cock that was peeking over the waistband of his underwear.
He groaned, hips thrusting forward.
She felt herself grow wetter, knew that she needed this man inside her or she would die.
Literally, it felt as though she would die if he didn’t fuck her that second.
“Talk later,” she panted, flicking the button of his jeans open, desperate to get both hands on him. “Fuck now.”
His lips curved into a wicked grin. “That I can do.” He yanked her T-shirt up and over her head, her bra followed a second later. He’d just cupped her breast and bent to take her nipple in his mouth when she heard a crash, then a shriek, then a “What the fuck?!”
Fourteen
Sam
* * *
Well, this was awkward.
Maggie stood just inside the front door, a bowl of food overturned at her feet and fury in every line of her expression. She stepped over the pile of what looked to be noodles and strode toward them, eyes flashing.
Sam moved to stand in front of Haley, blocking her from view.
Her T-shirt had managed to hang itself on one of her barstools, so he snagged it then passed it to her.
“What in the fuck is going on?” Maggie snapped.
Sighing, Sam crossed his arms. “Maggie.”
“Don’t Maggie me—”
“This isn’t what it looks like.”
Sam’s mouth clamped closed, and he spun around to face Haley. Um. What the hell was she talking about? This was exactly what it looked like. For fuck’s sake, she’d been topless with her hand down his pants.
“Explain.” Maggie.
“There’s nothing to explain,” he said. “This is between me and Haley.”
Haley didn’t look at him. “Mags. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I . . .”
Maggie, the woman he’d once thought would be his wife, didn’t acknowledge Haley. Instead, she kept her brown eyes fixed on Sam. “How could you do this to my sister? You knew she had a crush on you.” A shove to his chest. “What? Is this some sort of check mark on your bucket list, to sleep with sisters?”
“That’s not fair—”
“You knew?” Haley shrieked, her cheeks going pink. “You knew, and you didn’t say anything?”
Maggie shook her head, voice softening, the slightest note of pity lacing its way into her tone. “Oh kiddo, of course I knew. It was so obvious.”
Sam had a lot of love for the girl who’d been his childhood sweetheart, but in that moment, he could have strangled her. It was a painful thing to witness, Haley wilting under her sister’s tone and superior expression.
He tried to rescue the situation. “I didn’t know. I swear, Haley. I mean I hardly noticed you until you came back into town, and I probably never would have even talked—”
Oh, fuck.
That wasn’t rescuing. That was dive-bombing. Dropping a nuke on the situation and blowing it to fucking shreds.
Haley’s face paled and hurt swam in her eyes.
“That’s not what I meant—”
“Regardless,” Maggie said, chiming in with perfectly terrible timing. “This is bad, Hays. You’re vulnerable, and Sam isn’t right for you.”
“Vulnerable—” Haley began.
“Yes, you’re hurt, and he’s taking advantage.”
Since that particular sentiment hit too close to home, it took a second for Sam to gather his wits.
“He absolutely isn’t taking advantage,” Haley said. “I mean, I know it was wrong to get involved with him—”
Wrong? Sam blinked. They were two adults and—
“Of course, he’s taking advantage. Or rather, he’s trying to assuage his guilt by being with—by making you feel good.” She pointed at Sam. “This is what he does, Hays. He feels guilty and sticks around, and you have to be the one to stand strong and let him go.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Sam gritted out.
Maggie blinked, her face going carefully blank as she slipped out of her preaching attitude. It had always been hard to get her to shut up when she was going off on a tangent, but this absolutely took the cake. But finally, she did shut up, taking in what was no doubt a furious expression on his face because she bit her lip and flicked her gaze away.
Then Haley spoke, and his rage went to a whole new level.
“Look, I know he broke your heart and that you were really hurt and—”
Sam saw red. Literally, his skin went too tight, his teeth ground together so fiercely that he was surprised he didn’t crack a fucking tooth, and a red haze tinted his vision.
Obviously, Maggie had never told Haley what had happened between them, what truly had ended their relationship. Sam had never said anything, never would have gone there because he was a fucking gentleman, but that Maggie had painted him like that to her sister . . .
His hands tightened into fists. Because fuck her.
Stand strong? Let him go? Ha. If anyone had broken hearts, it had been Maggie.
“Are we seriously going to go here?” he asked her.
Maggie paled, turned her gaze deliberately to Haley. “Maybe he’s not taking advantage, but he’s too—”
“Too what?” he asked, cold fury in those two syllables.
“I know what you mean,” Haley said. Her eye flicked to the ground then back up to his. “You should go, Sam. This”—a cough—“let’s face facts. This wasn’t ever going to work out.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” He reached for her, stopping when she cringed back. “We didn’t even have a chance to—”
“Sam.” She sighed. “You’re you and I’m . . . I’m me. Let’s face facts. We would have never gone anywhere anyway.”
He frowned. “Haley, I’m not saying that I’ve fallen madly in love with you or that you’re my soul mate or— We’ve just started getting to know each other again, but I like you—” He sucked in a breath. “I was hoping that we might—”
“What? Date? Fuck?” Haley let out an exasperated sigh. “Let’s just leave it here, Sam. Let’s just stop before someone gets hurt.”
Yeah. Like him.
Again.
“That’s the right decision,” Maggie said.
Sam ignored her. “Is that what you want?”
Haley lifted her chin. “It’s what I need, Sam. Brian broke me. I—I can’t risk you doing to me what you did to Maggie.”
“What did Brian—” Maggie began.
Sam had kept his eyes fixed on Ha
ley’s, looking for some sign of uncertainty or remorse.
He found neither.
Just perfect.
The Donovan sisters sure knew how to fuck with a guy’s mind.
“Just go, Sam,” Haley murmured.
He shook his head and strode for the door, stepping over the pile of noodles on the threshold. There, he paused and glared at Maggie. “I know we dated for six years, and both of us made plenty of mistakes during that time, but maybe you should share with your sister what actually happened between us.” He pushed through the door. “Maybe then she wouldn’t be using the past as an excuse to torpedo her future.”
Silence before the door slammed behind him.
Fifteen
Haley
* * *
Haley watched Sam’s SUV disappear down her driveway and couldn’t stop the pang of remorse from coursing through her.
Had she just made the biggest mistake of her life, not hopping aboard the Sam train?
No. She’d jumped in headfirst once before, and look where that had gotten her.
“Well, good,” Maggie said, brushing her hands down the front of her shirt. “That’s a near miss.” She bustled over to the spilled bowl and pasta, using her hands to scoop it up.
Yuck.
Carefully, Haley slid herself to the end of the counter and executed a perfect dismount onto her good leg. Thank you, seven years of gymnastics. From there, she maneuvered herself onto her scooter, grabbed a roll of paper towels and wheeled over to her sister.
“Here,” she said. “I would offer to help—”
“But I wouldn’t let you anyway,” Maggie said, finishing their old joke.
As much as they ragged on their mom for never compromising, for always having to do it her way, Maggie was almost as bad. She was very particular and exacting and, frankly, that was exhausting sometimes.
But Haley had never really come up against it, or maybe she’d never pushed . . . same way as she dealt with her mom. It was easier to capitulate than fight over controlling every single detail, especially when she knew with one-hundred percent certainty that Maggie had her best interest in mind.
Except—
Except for the first time ever, Haley really wondered if Maggie really did have her best interest in mind. When it came to Sam, was her sister blind?
Was it old hurt? Protective sisterly love?
Or was there something else happening beneath the surface? Something that had happened between Maggie and Sam that Haley didn’t understand.
“Mags?” she asked.
“What?”
“I—”
Her sister gathered up the bowl, dumping the contents in the trash and setting it into the sink.
“What—”
Maggie gathered up the dirty towels, rushing down the hall to throw them in the wash. When she came back into the room, she was carrying Haley’s mop. “What a mess! I’d better get this cleaned up before you slip and break the other leg.”
Her laughter was forced, and Haley debated what she should do. Obviously, Maggie didn’t want to talk about what had gone down with her and Sam. She’d never been able to force her sister to do anything. She was the one to give in, to cave. Haley had absolutely zero skills in her social toolbox to help her deal with Maggie when she was like this. So, needless to say, she certainly couldn’t force her sister to dish all. Not unless—
She dished first.
Fuck. She didn’t want to talk about Brian, about her old job, about the myriad reasons she’d come home.
The past was the past, and they should leave it in the—
Ha. Now, that was a load of bull if she’d ever heard one. Haley had left the past in the past about as well as her mother let go of old grudges.
Which was not at all.
Could she talk about Brian? She’d already told some of it to Sam. Unwillingly to begin with, but she had felt better in the end.
Maybe this would just expand on that?
Maybe she could make herself and Maggie feel better.
Probably a pipe dream.
But it was worth a shot, right?
Right. She nodded and opened her mouth and just blurted, “Brian and I broke up.”
Maggie froze in her mopping for a moment before resuming her left-right-front-back movement. Yes, her sister was particular enough about her day-to-day life that she even had a preferred technique for mopping.
Was it more pathetic that Haley knew her sister’s chosen mopping pattern or that Maggie had a blueprint for everything, right down to the best way to soak up water from the floor, in the first place?
Either. Both.
She sighed, opened her mouth to expound.
“I surmised as much, considering you had your hand down Sam’s pants when I first walked in.” Maggie mopped faster. “I don’t understand you, Haley. Are you desperate enough to take my seconds?”
Hurt sliced through her. “That’s not fair.”
“Or what?” Maggie was moving at warp speed now, the mop swooshing over the floor almost as quickly as her words shot like bullets into Haley’s chest. “You never grew out of that pathetic crush. I mean, I swear it was so embarrassing to watch you mooning over him like a pitiful schoolgirl.”
Tears stung Haley’s eyes and she might have kicked her sister out of her house altogether, screamed and shouted and hurt her back, but this wasn’t like Maggie at all.
Normally, her sister was nice, boarding on almost too nice.
She was particular but didn’t lose her temper. Not ever. Hell, if someone didn’t do tasks the way she preferred them, she was much more likely to thank the person before sneaking behind them to quietly redo it than yelling at them. Haley had rarely seen her sister raise her voice and she had never ever witnessed Maggie acting like this.
Mean. Horrible. Cruel.
Luckily, the shock of such a reversal in her sister’s behavior meant that though Haley’s feelings were hurt, she at least managed to hold on to a thin thread of rationality.
One that allowed her to say, “This isn’t like you, Mags. Why are you acting like this?”
Maggie swallowed hard. “I’m not acting like anything. I’m trying to protect my sister is all.” She lifted the mop and hurried back down the hall. Of course, her return to the kitchen was much slower.
Haley decided she’d had about enough. She positioned her scooter in front of the hall, blocking Maggie’s path to escape.
Because she was smart enough to know that would probably be her sister’s next move. Avoidance unless absolutely cornered. After which, she’d lash out and run. And the degree of lashing out she’d just experienced told Haley that the thing Maggie was hoping to avoid discussing was huge.
So, she blocked the hall and waited.
“Don’t you want to know why Brian and I broke up?” she asked after her sister had stashed the mop and then turned back to the front of the house.
“Of course, I do,” Maggie said, starting to inch around her. “I just—Tim texted and—”
Yeah. Nice try, Sis. Haley could see Maggie’s phone sitting on the counter.
“Can you help me?” she asked, trying a different tack. “My leg’s hurting, and I don’t think I can get onto the couch.”
Maggie sighed but stopped inching toward the front door and instead walked next to Haley as she wheeled herself to the sofa. “Do you need a pain pill?”
“No,” Haley said. “Just a hand.”
Maggie didn’t argue, just slid a hand under Haley’s arm and helped her transition, but when her sis would have pulled back, Haley grabbed her wrist.
“Mags.” A plea. “Brian cheated on me. He—” She shook her head. “It was a good thing, ultimately, because I was in a bad place with him for a long time—”
“Did he hurt you?”
Finally, Haley saw a glimpse of her sister instead of the mean, avoidance monster.
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” she said. “But he was an asshole and managed to do a numb
er on my confidence. For a long time, I thought . . . well, I still struggle with not measuring up, with not being smart or pretty enough to—” She broke off.
“To what?” Maggie asked.
“To—” Haley’s eyes pricked. “I just—I know I can never measure up to you.”
Maggie had been squatting next to her, knees floating above the ground as she got settled, but at Haley’s words, her sister’s legs gave way, her knees hitting the carpet with a thump.
“If you knew—” A tear leaked from the corner of Maggie’s eye. “If you knew what I did, then you’d understand that I’m the one who needs to live up to you, Hays. I—” She sniffed.
“I don’t understand.”
“I can’t—” Maggie jumped to her feet. “I need to go.”
“Mags—”
The sound of her front door slamming, for a second time that evening, echoed through her house.
Sixteen
Sam
* * *
Sam sighed as he plunked his ass into a booth in Henry’s Place.
Named after a Darlington local, Henry, and started by Henry’s dad, Brad, the diner was a Darlington staple with home-cooked food and killer recipes that had been in the Miller family for generations.
Not to say that Henry hadn’t improved on the menu, because he most definitely had. He’d gone to culinary school and then had cooked under several famous chefs in New York City.
It was only after his dad had gotten sick that Henry came home.
He’d stayed when Brad passed on, cooking at the diner, tweaking a few much-loved menu items for the better, and watching out for his mom.
But for some reason, he’d never left.
Rumor had it that he’d left someone in New York, though no one had ever been able to get the information out of Henry himself.
Sam picked up a menu and glanced at it, though he knew it by heart. It also helped that he usually ordered the same thing. Hamburger—medium—sweet potato fries, and water, because he liked to pretend to be a little healthy before he finished off his meal with a giant slice of Henry’s chocolate cream pie.
