So how could he fault Jasmine for coping in the same way? Using her work to fill the gap?
As hard as it was, he stayed away. She didn’t teach her classes on the beach on the weekends, and she hadn’t contacted him since their dinner with her mother. She needed some space, he figured, so he gave it to her while he dealt with his own issues. Maybe she was spending time with her mother, which was a good thing.
He’d finished the bookcase, finally, and maneuvered it into a corner, a stately presence in the airy room. He’d managed to finish up a few more projects, clear out some clutter, and started lining up new projects.
Buying the house had been right, though he’d bought the place when he thought things might work out with Jasmine. He had foolish hopes for their future.
No. He’d bought this place for himself, not for her.
This was where he wanted to be. He’d called the storage facility in Long Island where his mother’s belongings were stored and was having them all delivered—furniture and items from their old house. He’d decided to hold on to the Manhattan apartment and sublet it as an income property for now.
That income would be needed, since buying the beach house from Neal—at a neat profit for Neal, of course—had put a huge dent in his nest egg.
Leo wondered what Jasmine would think of him being a permanent resident on the Cape. He hoped that would convince her that he was here—for real—and for keeps.
But it was Tuesday morning, and he hadn’t heard from her. He hadn’t seen her out on the beach the day before, either. He waited by the sliding doors now, a coffee cup in hand, staring at the beach as if almost willing her into existence.
It worked.
She arrived with her yoga gear, heading down to the shore and starting her routine.
Leo’s heart nearly exploded from his chest as he watched her move. No matter what, he would wait for as long as it took. He loved her as surely as the sun coming up over the water would do so every day.
He could wait. Be there, and maybe someday, she’d believe in that.
She turned to face the beach house, and his hand went to the door. He walked out on the deck and waited there for some sign, some signal.
Jasmine walked toward the deck as students were arriving.
Standing down in the sand, she looked up at him, her red hair teasing her neck and face in the morning breeze.
“Are you joining class today? Or are you just going to stand there watching me?”
“I’d like to join in, though watching you is quite nice too.” He was amazed at how normal he sounded when his heart was lodged up inside his throat.
She smiled as she turned to go back down to the shore to meet the rest of the class. He took the stairs two at a time, catching up with her.
“How are you doing?”
“Good. But I missed you.”
Leo’s heart leapt.
“I missed you too. And I’m sorry if I was an ass, by the way, on Friday. You know, before your mother showed up.”
She slid him a mysterious look as they joined the others, their conversation cut frustratingly short.
Leo had a hard time with his poses during the session; it had nothing to do with his shoulder, which was much better these days. He couldn’t take his eyes off Jasmine.
Gratifyingly, she fell out of step a few times too when their eyes met.
Something was different. He noticed that she smiled when she stumbled, laughed a little when she got off track. He’d never seen her do that before. She was always so focused on getting it right. So perfect. She made a joke midsession, and her students laughed.
Leo felt like the class lasted for days though it was only an hour. As students filed away, Jasmine approached him.
“I saw the sale notice for the beach house in the paper. I guess you’ll be moving on soon.” Her tone was casual, her expression unreadable.
“Jasmine, I—”
“I get it. It’s okay. You had to go back to your life eventually. I’m happy for you, Leo. I really am.” She smiled, leaning in to hug him.
It had been too long. Days without her had been too much. Leo couldn’t let her go. His mouth found hers and the kiss was hungry, as if she’d missed him, too—or more like she was getting as much of him as she could. Clearly, she thought he was leaving, the house sold. She also seemed okay with that, which made him doubt.
“You seem…different.” They parted, and he searched her face. “Is everything okay?”
She took a breath and stepped back. “Yeah. I think so, or I think it will be. I was thrown off balance Friday, with my mother’s visit and everything that brought to the surface. But she and I talked a lot, and she ended up staying over the weekend, even though she had other plans. Then yesterday I met Peter, the man she plans to marry,” Jasmine said, laughing. “I can’t believe she’s getting married, but then again, I can. He’s great. She’s so happy.”
Leo wasn’t sure how to interpret this mood. Jasmine was dealing with some heavy stuff, but she seemed peaceful with it all. Resigned, maybe? Though her happy laughter didn’t signal any kind of depression.
“That’s great. That they’re happy. You two cleared the air?”
She nodded. “Seeing her made me face everything I’ve been burying in my own life. She’s really moved on, healed. I only thought I had. Seeing her made me realize that.” Her eyes met his. “It made me realize how I’d shut everyone out because I’ve been so afraid of being let down or being disappointed or hurt again.”
“That’s understandable after what happened to you.”
“But that’s kind of the point. It didn’t just happen to me, and I lost track of that. It happened to my mother, to my father, and to everyone we knew, the people he worked with. My mother, because of her breakdown, couldn’t function alone, so she learned how to accept help from others. I guess I didn’t.”
Leo pulled her in for a hug, letting her know that she wasn’t alone. Would never be, if he had his way.
“I only knew how to rely on myself,” she said against his shoulder, and then drew back, but didn’t pull away. “And I don’t think that’s going to be an easy habit to break, but I’m willing to work on it. Starting with thanking you for the new windows and the new sign. They’re beautiful,” she said, her voice choking a little. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Leo was relieved. At one point that weekend, he’d thought she’d discovered the new items and had gotten pissed off that he’d been presumptuous.
“I’m glad. I was worried you wouldn’t like it.”
“It’s a big gesture. I would feel better if you at least let me put the insurance money toward them.”
He smiled. Old habits didn’t die right away. “We can talk.”
“I guess it’s a goodbye gift, of sorts?” She looked unsure for the first time that morning.
“I—”
“I really do understand. I can’t imagine someone telling me not to do my work. Why should I tell you not to do yours?” She took another deep breath, as if bolstering herself for what came next. “So, you know…it might be hard, but if we could, I wouldn’t mind trying to make something work. Between us. You know, when you’re back in New York. Maybe I could come there, and you could come here, on weekends, or something like that?”
Leo was almost too stunned at her offer to tell her how off base she was.
“That’s not going to—” he started.
“It would be difficult, but we could try? I don’t want to never see you again.”
She bit her lip, and Leo was shocked to see tears threatening. He knew this had to be so difficult for her, and if she would let him explain…
“Jasmine, I—”
“I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, breaking away. “This is so stupid. I feel like an idiot, like I wasted so much time this summer being defensive and pushing you away, and now you’re leaving, and…well, that’s about it. I know it took me too long to figure it out.”
Leo’s mouth was dry,
but he found words. “Figure what out?”
“How I feel about you. That it’s more than sex. Way more. Though the sex is pretty amazing. I don’t know if I’m in love, maybe…or at least I’d like to find out. If I haven’t blown it already.”
Leo’s heart fell to his knees, and he did as well, taking her down into the sand with him.
“Sweetheart, you are not too late. You’re just in time,” he said, pulling her in, covering her face with kisses. “I’m not going back to New York. I bought the beach house. I’m staying here, and I was hoping that wouldn’t end up being a problem for you, but I want to be here. I love it here, and I think I love you. It means a lot to me that you would want to be with me, no matter what. Even if I did go back,” he said, nuzzling her neck and finding it impossible to stop touching her.
Someone passing by chuckled; someone else suggested they get a room.
Jasmine was looking at him in shock of her own, her cheeks tear-stained.
“Seriously? You bought that?” She looked up at the beach house.
“I did. It’s mine. Are you mine, Jasmine?” he asked, framing her face.
She nodded, laughing and crying at the same time. “I think we should go back to your house.”
Leo couldn’t agree more. “But what about your classes? Aren’t you due at the studio?”
“Mandy’s there. She can handle it.”
“Wow. You really did have a sea change, didn’t you?”
They climbed the steps to the beach house, went inside.
Jasmine faced him, something about her more open than he’d ever known her to be.
“I guess I did. I realized my mother was right—I am like my father, and while some of that was good, some of the drive and business sense I got from him allowed me to do what I do, I also know I was closed down like he was, and in the end, that’s why he did what he did. I don’t want to live like that. I definitely don’t want to die like that. I guess, after being angry and afraid for so long, now I feel so sad for him.”
“Aw, sweetheart,” Leo breathed, taking her in, wishing he could make it all go away.
“Back then, Leo, you should know, after it all, I did some awful, stupid things, and—”
“You were a kid. You need to forgive it all, Jasmine.”
The struggle to do that was apparent in her expression. Rome wasn’t built in a day.
“To make a new life, I had to build rigid structures for myself. Things I could rely on. But I’ve been inflexible, with everything out of balance. I guess all those years of yoga, I was missing the point entirely. I want to change. With the people I love, and who love me.” She leaned in to kiss him, her fingers finding their way up under his shirt.
“You don’t have to do anything alone.”
“Thank you. You have no idea how much that means.”
“You’ve been there for me too, remember. I think I do.”
“I can’t believe you’re really here to stay,” she said, looking around. “The place is starting to look like you, though, with all of your things. The bookcase is beautiful. Maybe you have a future in antiques restoration.”
“You think you could set me up with some of your business connections around here?” he teased as he worked the flimsy yoga outfit she was wearing down over her limbs.
“I could probably help you out, sure.”
As they spoke, her fingers deftly worked the zipper on his shorts, and as she found him, her touch triggered blinding pleasure.
“We can talk more later.” He picked her up, and she laughed in delight as he carried her toward the stairs. “Until then, I have plans for you.”
“I can’t wait to find out what they are.”
As they climbed the stairs, she met his kiss, sealing the promise of their future.
About the Author
Samantha Hunter lives in Syracuse, New York, where they have very cold winters, so she likes to write hot books! When she’s not plotting her next book, Sam spends time on numerous hobbies and crafts, and enjoys traveling and spending time with her husband and their dogs. She’s also an unapologetic TV addict. If you would like to learn more about her books, current releases and news, please check out her website at www.samanthahunter.com. You can also email her at [email protected] and look for her on Twitter and Facebook.
Look for these titles by Samantha Hunter
Now Available:
Tight Quarters
Coming Soon:
One Hot Night
Two hearts converge…until fear runs love off the rails.
Tight Quarters
© 2013 Samantha Hunter
A Strangers on a Train Story
In the years since a horrific car accident left her with a long list of phobias, Brenna Burke has overcome them all except one. Crippling claustrophobia—not a good trait for an aspiring travel writer.
With an interview for her dream job looming, Brenna forces herself to board a train for a weekend tour through New York State…only to find her berth has been double booked.
Retired NYPD detective Reid Cooper isn’t happy about the mix-up, or his attraction to his petite, sexy roommate. But as their up-close-and-personal weekend progresses, something remarkable happens. Being with Reid makes Brenna feel normal, unafraid of anything.
After one passionate night, both are thinking beyond a mere weekend fling. But when Brenna’s last phobia pounces at the worst possible time, she could miss the last boarding call for happily ever after.
Warning: This book contains a hot-to-the-touch hero and sizzling sex at high speeds.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Tight Quarters:
Brenna Burke forced herself to relax, her bags bumping against her hip with each step even though the middle aisle of the train was more than wide enough for two people to walk abreast.
She was feeling good and rocking this trip so far. It was the fifth time she’d boarded this train in the past year, but this time would be the one.
Everyone was on her side. The porters had cheered her on when she’d arrived, and the conductor had even given her a thumbs-up.
“You can do it, Brenna. You’ll clinch it this time,” she heard someone say, and she looked up to see Sean, the bright-eyed, young car attendant who had showed her the suite a few weeks before. He was helping a disabled woman to her seat.
“Thanks, Sean,” she said with a smile that was sunny and positive.
Because that’s who she was, she reminded herself. In all areas of her life, Brenna took the bull by the horns and lived. She loved her friends, her home and her work as a travel editor. If she could tame this last demon that had kept her down for the past twelve years, she would be good to go.
The first time she’d tried taking the weekend train from Lake Champlain to Niagara Falls, she’d choked up inside the door and had to get out, nearly plowing over several passengers in her hurry to escape. Each of the subsequent times, something had gone wrong at different points before departure, and she’d had to leave.
This was her chance, and life wasn’t waiting for her. On the cusp of turning twenty-nine, she dreamed of the world out there. She thought about turning thirty in Paris. Or on some amazing beach in the Caribbean. This was the next step to making that happen.
If Brenna could do this—spend four days on a train—she could do anything.
Something jolted her. She paused in the middle of the aisle, caught in thought. People were lined up behind her; the aisle was full. Too full, making her feel closed in.
Breathe.
She inhaled something spicy…cloves? No, sandalwood. It was nice. Calming. Then she realized it was coming from whoever was standing right behind her, breathing down her neck, their body inches from hers, crowding…
No. The poor guy was stuck there, waiting for her to move. Turning slightly, she smiled at him.
“Sorry,” she offered, proud of how steady her voice was, considering that his chest completely blocked her view. He was big. Not rotund, but large.
Muscular. Broad. Solid.
Shit. She was staring. He was staring back, though it was more like he was trying to exert some superpower through the force of his brown-eyed gaze—namely, the ability to make her move forward. Then he smiled, and that didn’t help her stop staring.
“No problem,” he said. “Take your time.”
Innocent enough—polite even—though his voice was the closest thing to sex she’d had in a while. Unfortunately, her problem with close spaces had taken its toll on intimacy as well. Trying to make love while asking the man she was with not to crowd her didn’t usually work out very well.
Brenna somehow made one foot move in front of the other, continuing down the length of the long car. Taking her mind off of where she was and what it all meant, she focused on the beautiful train she was boarding for the weekend. The 1930s Zephyr had been retooled to include all of the amenities that contemporary luxury travel had to offer—including spacious sleeper cars that replaced the original roomettes, which had barely had enough space for the pullout bed.
Though its “Silver Streak” namesake was one of the fastest trains of its time, this one would roll along at a gentle pace, allowing everyone to enjoy the view while making frequent stops for shopping and sightseeing. For Brenna, those detours were also an escape hatch, if need be.
A glance behind told her that he was still there, keeping step, right behind her. That, in and of itself, wasn’t a huge deal, except that as they passed room after room, other passengers found theirs, and eventually it was only the two of them making their way to the end of the car. Brenna had asked for the end room—a suite—specifically, since it had more windows. Four windows in ninety-five square feet with one double bed and one pullout half-twin.
The berth was advertised as big enough for three people, with its own small bathroom, but it was just barely big enough for her to be comfortable inside with the door shut. Though it had cost her enough, she knew it would be worth it. She’d tried to get comfortable in the smaller rooms, but she wasn’t able to.
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