by Taylor Hart
“What?” His voice was low.
Glancing up at him, she grinned. “I was just thinking about how I first met you. You and Maddy were on the floor, and you were using your shirt to wipe her face.”
This made him smile, and he puffed out a laugh. “That girl sure can spit food.”
She laughed. “Then you took her from me and held her out like you were keeping a ball away from me, and she was wailing.” More laughter bubbled out of her.
He laughed too, leaning forward animatedly. “Hey, you were no better, going into the bath with your clothes on to soothe her.”
“I know.” Tears were coming down her cheeks now, thinking about how ridiculous they both had been that night.
He slapped his leg. “And I don’t know how long it would have taken me to clean that pig pen if you wouldn’t have been there.”
She laughed, leaning back and grabbing her stomach. “Roman is so lost without Katie”
“No.” Sam flung out. “That guy is a slob. Believe me, I lived with him before. He needs a full time housekeeper. Kids have just made that problem even more out of control.”
She laughed harder. “Katie complains he can’t even clean up his socks. She finds them all over in random places. She found one in the window well a couple of weeks ago.”
Now they were both laughing.
As she wiped her eyes, she realized it felt good to laugh with him.
21
Sam couldn’t believe he was standing in the pit at a country concert. Of course, they had the equivalent to the best seats in the house, but Tiffany had wanted to go into the pit. He’d told her the only way he’d go is if she let him buy her a cowboy hat to match his.
The music blared through them. Into them. Around them. He couldn’t deny that he loved it. As he listened, he realized that he did know some of the songs from the radio. But he wasn’t here for Luke. He was here for Tiffany, and it was better than he could have ever imagined. She stood in front of him as the crowd pressed into them on all sides. The hat he’d bought for her had teal beads that matched her shirt. With her blonde hair and tight bling jeans, she looked amazing. She held her hands up and sang her heart out. He joined in when it got to the chorus.
Could he say it made him upset when the crowd pushed him into her? Well, he could lie. In fact, he had to work pretty hard to focus on Luke Bryant and not all these emotions that swirled inside of him with the smell of soft vanilla that called to him like a well of water calling to a thirsty vagrant. At one point her hair got mashed against his face, and he could have moved, but he didn’t. Instead he had closed his eyes and imagined how it would feel to kiss this woman. He had to physically restrain himself from slipping his hands around her waist and swaying with her.
When a crazy fan jumped up on stage and then jumped into the pit, both of them laughed as they held up their hands to pass him around. Their eyes met, and this time, Sam could have sworn that something happened between them. It was something happy and fun and something he never wanted to end.
He admired her. Her talent. Her goodness. The way she’d lived her life in the true service of her family. How she’d not compromised her values for a man.
The primal part of him was happy she hadn’t slept with Brett because it truly sounded like he was a jerk, and he was glad she hadn’t shared that with him. That was the jealous part of him. The better part of him was just proud of her. She believed in something, and she had been true to that.
It was strange because at that same time he was so proud of her, he was also somewhat sad to know that he could never live up to her. To everything her life represented.
He’d been the opposite. He’d left his father. He had been a cheater. It caused a shameful stir in his stomach when he thought about it, and he immediately tried to focus on Luke Bryant and quit thinking of the mistakes in his past.
It helped that when a ballad came on, she turned to face him, her eyes smoldering. “Wanna dance?”
It wasn’t like they could really dance because everyone was pretty much squashed together, but he grinned as she put her arms around his shoulders.
It wasn’t hard to forget everything else when he got to put his hands on her hips and sway with her.
Minutes later, she had her head against his chest, and he could hear her rich voice singing out. Their voices mixed with joy like two lost souls finally reunited. They belonged together. He could honestly say he would never forget this moment. This woman. The pureness of her. The way just being with her made him feel differently about everything—including himself. She made him see the world in a way he’d never seen it before.
It looked better. All he knew was he wanted this woman in his life. His mind flashed to the fact that she’d been with Brett for over a year. What would have happened if her father hadn’t been dying and she could have gone on tour with him? Everything was muddled. Then the song ended, and she pulled her head off his shoulder and smiled up at him, and he lost all thought.
22
Having Sam Dumont within kissing distance was not good for her, Tiffany decided as she stared at his chocolate eyes swirling with emotion. She inhaled the scent of his cool breeze after-shave. He smelled too good.
Everyone started yelling and cheering for Luke Bryant, but they both just stared at each other. The center of her chest was pounding so hard she felt like she was one of those people that she had watched on a television documentary one night that had run away from a volcano. Her father liked to watch the history channel, and she’d remembered watching the natural disaster one with him. Washington. That’s where it was. It had been in the eighties. Sam Dumont was like that volcano—hot, volatile. She knew if she got too close to him, he would burn her. She was already burning. She thought about the fact that she’d been with Brett for almost a year and it’d never been like this. So intoxicating. So…all consuming. Brett had ‘put the moves’ on her many times. It had been the thing that, in the end, they’d fought the most about.
It was his parting jab at her—that at least she’d won by never sleeping with him.
Won. Won? How had she won?
It had hurt, more than she’d ever told anyone. She had thought Brett was her partner in life and music. He’d been comfortable. He’d landed in Wolfe Creek for a winter to work at the ski resort, and they’d met at the diner. When they’d both realized they loved music, it had ended up with them trying to write together. She would give him that. He had helped her learn how to write a song, but he had also hurt her confidence level. He’d never wanted her to take the lead. They’d sung duets, and he’d capitalized on her. They sounded good together, and they’d gotten more and more gigs together, but in the end, it was the Brett Show.
She’d been so stupid. Why had she stayed with him?
Love?
She was sure the feelings between her and Brett had never been this intense. It confused her.
For a second, Sam leaned forward, and she thought he might kiss her. But at the last second, she turned in his grasp and started rocking to the next song.
She couldn’t deny that she liked that his hands stayed on her hips. She liked that he sang along too. His rich tenor voice was loud and clear. Honestly, it was like they were in their own world. She loved that he enjoyed the concert as much as she did.
Secretly, she was touched he’d set this up. She’d never imagined, not even when she’d mentioned he was her favorite, that he would bring her to see Luke Bryant. There was part of her that truly felt like she was in a fairytale—that felt like this whole thing with Sam was unreal. She couldn’t deny she was falling for him.
She thought of her father. Of course he would have liked Sam. They’d always been Roman Young fans through the media circus of picking which quarterback would lead the Destroyers. But when Roman got hurt and Sam took over, her father had always had hope he could step up and lead the team.
Thinking of the Sam Dumont portrayed in the media and this man next to her, singing and swaying and smiling at
her, she felt like they were two different people.
She wondered about everything he had gone through. If he had loved Sheena.
And why wasn’t he in Miami? Why was he hanging out with her in Nashville? He’d said some hard things to her. Part of the reason she’d been so angry was because he’d been right. It wasn’t just her morals that she’d hung onto with Brett. She’d been afraid. Maybe staying with her mother was an excuse that allowed her to avoid her fear. She was afraid that if she did take the lead singer spot and go on tour, she would fail.
23
Would it sound cocky if Sam admitted that sometimes being a famous football player had its perks and he liked it? He thought Tiffany would probably say yes—it was cocky, but right now Sam didn’t care. Seeing Tiffany hug Luke Bryant and get the Cowboy hat he’d bought her signed by him made him not mind using his star power. Her face glowed, and he could see she was extremely happy.
This is what he had wanted when he chartered the jet and called his agent to utilize every connection he could to make this happen for her. He had wanted her to see what her future could be.
It could. Of that fact he was sure. Listening to her sing last night had been a religious experience for him. Her voice was unfiltered. It was innocent and pure and had all the characteristics that people who turned into stars had. Then there were her lyrics. They had touched him deeply.
The truth smacked him with the force of a 250-pound line backer. That was why he felt he knew her. The music. The words. They were hers. All the things she felt and sang about were her, and he felt connected to them and her. Letting out a sigh, he laughed at himself. Stupid. He was a groupie. That’s what he was. He was no better than all the fans out there yelling at Luke Bryant. He stared at her talking easily with Luke and another band member. For him, it wasn’t just her music that he liked though. It was her. It was everything that she was.
He was in deep. Way too deep. But he was not the man for her. He was not religious. He was not good. He had had a very public affair with his best friend’s wife. He’d turned his back on his father. He was nothing.
He didn’t even know if he was a real football player anymore. The Destroyers didn’t want him. Miami…well, things were still up in the air with the contract.
Then it hit him.
Tiffany was going up, and he was on his way out.
He gulped and pushed away the mix of emotions as she came back, her face completely lit up.
“Sam, that was amazing!” She jumped into his arms.
Taken aback, he held her, loving her happiness and instantly saddened by the realization that he didn’t even deserve to be here with her. She was so good. But, selfishly, he would take this moment anyway and soak it up. He told himself he would get her to a better place. Then he would let her go.
She pulled back.
He instantly felt cold, like the sun had been taken away.
“I’ll never forget this night.” Tears filled her eyes.
He smiled down at her, lightly touched her cheek, but didn’t move in to kiss her. “I can honestly say every time I’m with you it gets more and more memorable.”
He could see her blush, and he loved it. She smiled. “What time do we need to be back for the jet?”
Even though he shouldn’t prolong their time together, because he knew it’d just be harder and harder when it was over, he couldn’t stop himself. Gently, he took her hand and pulled her out the door toward the parking lot and the car that was waiting for them. “The jet will go when we show up.” He grinned. “But I thought you’d be hungry. Don’t you want dinner?”
Not pulling her hand away, she kept pace with him. The smile that had been pasted on her face the whole time stayed in place. “I’m starving.”
24
They sat at the top of Virago, a rooftop-dining restaurant in the heart of Nashville. Tiffany felt like she was in some kind of dream. She and Sam sat across from each other as they finished their honey fired sushi and tempura. Sam had reserved the whole top of the restaurant for them. She would have been overwhelmed by the whole thing if she hadn’t already been swept away on a private jet to a country concert where she met her favorite singer in the whole world.
Still giddy, she leaned back, unable to stop smiling. “I know it’s stupid, but I feel like a princess.”
There was a twinkle in his dark eyes. He leaned back and nodded approvingly. “A country princess.”
She laughed. “I guess so.”
He tsked his tongue. “It fits.”
She felt her heart quicken. “Sam, I know you think I should take that spot with that band.”
“You should.”
Looking down, she let out a breath and calmed herself. “I guess…”
“You just let your ex get into your head too much.”
She scoffed, the truth of that filling her. She shook her head. “I just…I wish…”
“What?”
“I wish I could have been the one to walk away, ya know? I wish I could know for sure that I would have eventually walked away from him.”
He sighed. “I get it. I never had that opportunity either.” He gave her a look. “But you still shouldn’t let him decide your future.”
She couldn’t do this. “Let’s just finish this night. Let’s not fight.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
They both looked out over the city, and then unable to stop herself, she turned back to him. She knew she would probably regret getting to know him more. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. She did. She really did, but she also knew he was leaving. Just like Brett had left her. Even though in her heart of hearts Tiffany had known that Brett hadn’t really loved her, not in the way she’d hoped for. She’d been so stupid. Foolish. It was like she was a little kid. She had wanted to get married in a church. To spend their lives singing and raising beautiful kids and living out the fairy tale happily ever after. Now she saw how stupid that hope had been.
Brett had not believed in God. He hadn’t believed in anything really. Only himself. Even knowing how risky it was for her heart, she still couldn’t stop herself from asking the questions. “So you decided to take a detour from surfing?”
Looking uncomfortable, Sam shifted in his chair, uncrossing and then crossing his ankle to his knee. “I did.”
“Why?”
Winking at her, he grinned. “Can’t taking a beautiful woman to a concert to say I’m sorry for being a jerk be enough of a reason?”
Feeling heat go up her neck to her cheeks for the millionth time that night made her look away from him. “I was a jerk, too.”
“I like it when you blush.”
She sighed and closed her eyes for a second before flashing them back open. She tried to stay on point. Unbidden, thoughts of all the pictures of him and Sheena splattered on the front of every magazines filled her mind. Abruptly, the breath and color went out of her.
“What’s wrong?” Sam pressed her.
“Nothing,” she answered quickly.
He leaned forward, taking one of her hands on top of the table. “What?”
She stared at his hand. She hated that she liked the feel of it on her, the gentleness of his touch and the way it made her heart race and comforted her at the same time. She didn’t know how to ask about him. She felt selfish for and confused about even wanting to know.
“Tiffany?”
Meeting his eyes, she forced the question out. “Did you love her?”
Jerking back, he kept his hand over hers. “Oh.” He seemed surprised by the question.
“Did you?” She wasn’t stopping now that she was asking. She felt the same dogged kind of determination that Sam had exhibited toward her at the diner this morning.
He pulled his hand back and looked at the lights of the city. “I thought I did. It’s…I told you I thought I could make what we had…different than it was.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry.” And she realized she meant that. She hated that he’d ha
d his heart broken. She thought of how much she’d judged him. “Those without sin cast the first stone.” She felt terrible. “I’m sorry, Sam. I…when I found out that Brett had slept with another girl they’d brought into the band to play the keyboard, I was so angry. I’ve been taking out that anger on you.”
Looking at his hands, Sam nodded. “Displaced anger.”
She grinned. “That sounds like a shrink term.” She pointed out, using his word for therapist.
A slow smiled washed over his face. “See, it proves I’ve been paying attention.”
She smiled back. “I have to ask, did you grow up in a church?”
He sighed. “I grew up Catholic. I even went to Catholic schools until my mother passed away when I was twelve.” He shrugged and Tiffany saw the pain in his eyes. “My father kind of lost it and became a functional alcoholic for a lot of years. He pulled me out of Catholic school, saying it cost too much. But…I do believe in God.”
She stayed silent. She didn’t know what he was getting at.
“Just because I messed up, doesn’t mean I don’t believe in Him. It doesn’t mean I don’t believe I did something wrong.” He held her gaze.
She blew out a breath. “And I’ve been shoving it in your face.” Tears threatened in the corner of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been defensive for so long. I shouldn’t have acted that way.”
So many different emotions seemed to play across his face; then he shrugged. “You know what’s ridiculous about the whole thing with Sheena was when I went to her, after her quiet dumping on Facebook, and asked her to marry me, she said, ‘Baby, I thought you knew you were a chess piece.’ And then she patted my cheek.” He shook his head. “Like I was a dog and we were done playing.”
Anger filled her. Insane, wild, self-righteous anger at the way Sheena had played him. “Sam, I’m sorry.” Before tonight, before this conversation when she’d seen into the vulnerable, fragile, heart of Sam Dumont, she never would have dreamed she would see this man as wronged, victimized. But he had been wronged. Her emotions bubbled to the surface, and she couldn’t stop the tears that flooded her eyes and fell out. “I’m so sorry.”
