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“Sam—”
“Please,” she said, her smile faltering at the expression in his eyes. “Let’s just go.”
Looking extremely conflicted and unhappy, he nodded. “Fine. But after, we talk.”
No, after, she’d go off and lick her wounds, all of them, alone. That’s how she did things, and that’s how it worked best.
14
THEY HIT TRAFFIC on the highway. Not unusual by any means, but Sam nearly bit all her nails to stubs on the drive. Twice Jack tried to talk to her, but she just shook her head, unable to hold a conversation, unable to think until she saw for herself.
Maybe somehow it wasn’t as bad as she remembered. Maybe, by some miracle, they’d been able to save—
No. She could see the building as they came down the street, or what was left of it—a shell of what it had once been. A blackened, charred shell.
The parking lot was cordoned off. The fire inspector’s truck was parked just on the inside of the yellow tape blocking their way in. Jack slowed his SUV to a stop, forced to wait for a break in the traffic before he could turn around and park on the street.
Unable to sit still, Sam hopped out. She heard Jack swear, heard him call out for her, but she didn’t slow down. Couldn’t slow down. There were just some things that she had to do alone, and this was one of them.
Ducking under the caution tape, she ran toward the burned building, passing the tall proud sign she’d once painted that still read Wild Cherries. Ironically, it wasn’t even singed.
Sam eased up and walked toward the only real home she’d known since eighth grade. Behind the charred mess, the ocean churned and pounded the shore, as always. A few early beach goers walked along the edge of the breaking surf, as always.
But she wouldn’t be opening the doors of the café today. She wouldn’t be having fun creating interesting and delicious sandwiches. She wouldn’t go upstairs into her apartment and be at home there.
It just occurred to her. Her surfboard was gone. Her toothbrush. Her favorite pajamas. The photo album of her parents.
All gone.
Her heart tightened. This loss is nothing, she assured herself. Nothing like her other losses. She could start over, find a new place, buy a new toothbrush.
She couldn’t buy a new life. She was lucky. Although her heart was breaking, she told herself this with each step that brought her closer and closer to the charred building.
She would have stepped inside—inside being a relative term now the roof was gone—but a man blocked her way. The patch on his left pec proclaimed him Fire Inspector. He had a clipboard in his hand and a kind look on his face that for some stupid reason made her catch her breath.
If he so much as asked her if she was okay, she was going to lose it.
“Is this your place?” he asked, and when she nodded jerkily—all she could give him—he sighed. “I’m Timothy Adams, Fire Inspector.”
“Samantha O’Ryan.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. O’Ryan, but this building is a complete loss.”
She swallowed hard and stared at her empty, empty building. “Surely something’s left.”
“Possibly. But you can’t go inside just yet, not until it’s cleared.”
“But—”
“I know how difficult this is, Ms. O’Ryan—”
“Do you?” She rounded on him with surprising anger. “Do you really?”
“Yes.” His eyes and voice remained kind. Understanding. “I lost my house in the San Diego fires. And everything in it, including my two dogs.”
She stared at him, then closed her eyes and turned away. “I’m sorry.” She brought her hands up to her temples. “God, I’m so sorry. I hate this.”
She heard footsteps on the gravel and opened her eyes in time see Jack loping toward her. “Sam.” He had a frantic look to him as he took her arms in his hands. “I thought you were going to try to go in—”
“I can’t. It’s not safe.” Dully, she introduced the two men, then tuned out their low conversation while she stared at the mess.
There was insurance, she told herself. There was nothing in there she couldn’t replace.
Except memories.
“Jesus. Jesus H. Christ.” Red showed up in the parking lot, looking shell-shocked. He hadn’t tied back his long hair or buttoned his shirt over his long surfer shorts, and, as usual, he wore no shoes. But seeing him standing there was the closest thing to seeing her own parent, and Sam nearly lost it.
“It was the brownies,” she whispered, and Red hauled in for a tight hug that blew the air right out of her. That worked for her; she didn’t want to breathe, anyway. She fisted her hands in his unbuttoned plaid shirt and held on. “Oh, Red. It’s all my fault—”
“Shh.” He stroked her hair and she breathed in the scent of the sea, his funky homemade cigarettes and the coconut wax he used on his surfboards. “Thank God you’re okay.”
Pulling back, she averted her eyes from the ruins. “What about the café?”
“No doubt there’s a shitload of work ahead to clean up and rebuild.”
“Rebuild.” With a little laugh, she shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because that takes money.”
“Insurance will kick in.”
“It’ll never kick in enough. I was cheap with the coverage, the cost of replacing everything will kill me—”
“Damn it, I knew you’d be full of excuses.” Red dug into the pocket of his surfer shorts and came up with a rolled up piece of paper that he thrust at her.
Sam opened it up and stared at a check drawn from his personal account for a staggering sum of money. “What’s this?”
“Every penny of what you’ve given me over the past five years.”
“What? Are you crazy?” She tried to push it back into his hands. “I can’t take this.”
“Look, get yourself back on your feet. Then you’ll start paying me again, and don’t think I won’t be adding on interest.”
She stared at him, not trusting her voice, and he touched her once lightly on the nose, then walked away.
The check in her hand ruffled lightly in the breeze, and she looked down at it, feeling dizzy with gratitude, grief and love.
She wasn’t alone. Her gaze lit on Jack, standing there looking right back at her.
She’d never been alone.
That thought was so staggering, she excused herself from everyone including Lorissa, who’d made her way into the blocked-off parking lot and wanted to hug the life right out of her. “I need a minute,” she said.
She moved down the stairs to the beach. This strip of sand and rock and bluffs had been a part of her life long before Wild Cherries had been, and it was still there.
Lorissa was still here, up on the dunes.
Red was still there, never judging, never asking anything of her other than to work hard and keep her nose clean.
And then there was Jack.
It was a moment before she realized he was there, too. Not just in spirit, but actually right behind her, respecting her need for privacy but silently offering his strength and hope.
“Sam…”
The torment in his voice had her closing her eyes. “I’m okay. I’m poor and homeless, and feeling a little pathetic, but I’m okay.”
“I’d give anything to be able to fix this for you.”
Turning her head, she smiled at him through her tears. “I know.”
He took one look at her wet eyes and came close, pulling her in for the hug that she desperately needed. “It’s really all gone,” she whispered, and promising herself it would only be for a moment, clung to him. “Recipes, my mother’s china, my favorite bathing suit. They don’t even make that kind anymore.” A sob escaped her and she didn’t try to fight it. There was no need with Jack holding her in a way that told her he’d never let go, not until she wanted him to, which worked for her.
“God, Sam, I’m so sorry—”
“No.” She sniffed. �
��Don’t be.” She gripped him, buried her face in his neck and inhaled deeply. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.”
Pulling back, he studied her for a long moment before a smile touched his lips. “Yeah. You are.”
“It’s going to be complicated…Expensive.”
“I have way too much money,” he said. “Take mine.”
That made her laugh through her tears. “No.”
“I mean it, I—”
“Jack. That wasn’t what I meant by complicated.” She’d loved sleeping with him last night. And the way he always looked at her had a way of making breathing difficult. She could tell he was no longer thinking casual, and suddenly she could face that, even if it was more terrifying than losing the café.
“You’re not alone, Sam. I want you to know that.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“I mean it. You have Lorissa and Red. They love you. They’d do anything for you. And you have me. I know you think I’m just your sex slave.”
She laughed, as he’d meant her to. But then his smile faded. “I want to be more than your one-night thing, Sam.”
Again, she fought for air. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”
“Because I tell you like it is?”
“No, Red does that. Lorissa does that. But you…you do something they don’t.”
“What’s that?”
Unable to put it into words, she moved closer to the water. Let her toes dig into the wet sand.
He did the same, and stood next to her, reaching for her hand so that they were connected, but not speaking.
“That’s a part of it right there,” she said after a moment, her fingers tightening on his. “You don’t feel the need to fill up the silence. You can just let me be, you can just let me think.”
He looked over at her. “Is there anything else you like about me?”
“Well, there’s your body,” she said, and laughed when he shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t help it. You’re a hottie, Jack Knight.”
“Yeah, well, same goes. But I was kind of hoping for something more than just…the physical.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then turning to face him, took his other hand lightly in her bandaged one, her heart melting when he brought it up to his mouth and gently kissed it. “It’s a lot more than physical,” she admitted softly, the wind ruffling her hair from her face. “I’ve never met anyone who’s wanted me so much. And I don’t mean just sexually. I feel like you really just…want me. Me.”
“I do,” he said. “Very much.”
“You never really said, you didn’t push—”
Jack shook his head, not sure how to make her understand. “Push? Hell, I could hardly understand the emotions I felt when it came to you. Until last night.” He drew in a ragged breath that didn’t ease the tightness in his chest. “Last night, I drove up here and had a really bad moment when I saw the flames and not you. Last night, I knew. You’re it for me, Sam.”
She bent and picked up a rock, tossing it into the ocean. Then searched for another one. Because he could see she was thinking, trying to put things together, he just watched. Waited.
“No one’s ever made me think of my future in terms of me and someone,” she said after a moment, and turned to eye him as if wanting to see his reaction to that. “Not until you.”
He felt the slow smile split his face. “That probably shouldn’t make me feel like I just shot the winning point.”
Her eyes filled again and his heart cracked. “Oh, Sam…”
“I thought I was so tough, so independent. I thought I had all I needed.” She met his gaze, hers shimmering brilliantly. “I was wrong. My life…it was in a rut. Same old comfortable routine, friends, work, everything. Then I met you and things changed. I changed. Suddenly, I wanted more for myself. I wanted to think of the future and see myself opening up. Sharing it with someone.” She drew a deep breath and looked more nervous than she had last night with fire raining down around her. “I’ve never wanted forever with someone, Jack, until I met you.”
His heart, torn only a moment before, swelled and filled. “Forever?”
“I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into, falling like I have for you. I didn’t think I was capable of love like this, but that’s what it is. I knew it when you burst through the door to save me last night. I knew it when you carried me to your bed with such love in your eyes. I knew it when I woke up this morning wrapped around you.” She blew out another big breath. “So.” She smiled nervously and stepped back, hugging herself. “Be kind,” she whispered.
“You think I’m going to hurt you?” he asked in disbelief.
“You could.”
Shaking his head, he sank his fingers into her hair, cradling her head. “Sam, the only intention I have is to love you back.” When she only stared at him, he gave a wry grin. “You love me, right?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I do.”
“Good.” He lowered his mouth to hers. “My life was in a rut before you, too. I was just existing, maybe even missing basketball more than I admitted to anyone, including myself. But I don’t miss anything when I’m with you, Sam. I just feel alive, so alive.”
“So…” She smiled tremulously. “What does this mean?”
“Let me put it this way. I want to wake up at the crack of dawn and freeze my ass off in the ocean watching you surf. I want to have you running down my basketball court looking like the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, making it so I can’t beat you—”
“Are you suggesting you lost because I distracted you?”
“You know damn well that’s why I lost, but you’re changing the subject. Say yes, Sam.”
Her gaze searched his. “To what?”
“To me, to this thing we’ve got going, to everything.”
She laughed a little, looking scared and bewildered and so hopeful he nearly gobbled her up whole.
“Just give you a blind yes?” she asked shakily.
“Uh-huh.” His fingers caressed her face. “And we’ll fill in all the blanks as they come up.”
“You want to wing something this important?” She laughed, then threw herself at him. “Oh my God, that’s right up my alley. It’s perfect.”
“Yeah.” He framed her face with his hands. “It is. And so are you.”
Epilogue
Eight months later
THE DAY HAD BEEN a good one. Sam had surfed all morning with Lorissa, she’d opened up Wild Cherries Café II in time for a good-sized lunch crowd and now, as the sun set, a pair of headlights came over the bluff. Pulled into her parking lot.
She stood in the café kitchen, her heart starting to pound. Scrunching up her face, she hoped with all her might. Then, and only then, did she slowly open the oven and peek.
“Omigod.” Holding her breath, she used her oven mitt to pull out…what looked like a beautifully perfect pan of brownies.
She set the hot pan on the counter and stared at them.
Behind her, Jack came in. “Smells delicious.”
“I think I did it,” she whispered, her gaze still locked on the brownies. “Come taste, I’m too nervous.”
“That’s funny.” He came up behind her. “Because I’m nervous, too.”
Whipping around, she looked at him, concern filling her. They’d been inseparable for eight months. After a few months staying with Lorissa, she’d gotten her own apartment.
She’d spent one night in it.
Then Jack had asked her to move in with him, reminding her she’d given him that blind yes. Since she hadn’t needed convincing, she’d gone for it. And while she’d never imagined herself happy in a house she could get lost in, she’d fallen in love with Jack’s place the way she had with the man.
He’d been with her every step of the way in the rebuilding of Wild Cherries. She’d been with him when he’d started a new phase in his career…running basketball clinics in the local schools, teaching kids the joy of the game
. “What is it?” she asked, stuffing a bite of brownie into his mouth. “Did you get that grant to—”
He chewed. “I got the grant for the district. The kids will have their new courts.” He paused, looking startled. “Yum.”
She had to laugh at his surprise, but then again, she’d been making him taste her brownies for months now, and there’d been some doozies. “You sure they’re good? You’re not just saying that so you can get lucky?”
“I’m hoping to get lucky with something else entirely.” He reached for another bite. “And seriously, these are good. Write down the recipe for this batch.” He pulled a small box out of his pocket. “Remember now, you already said yes.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “To what?”
“To marrying me.” He drew in a deep breath and looked her in the eyes as he opened the box. She caught the flash of light from the beautiful solitaire diamond.
“Be kind,” he whispered, echoing the words she’d said to him all those months ago.
She stared down at the incredible ring and felt her throat tighten. “Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“This is better than the brownies.”
“Am I getting lucky, Sam?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I don’t mean in bed.”
“Well, I do. But also right here.”
“You’re killing me. Tell me quick. Is that a yes, you’ll—”
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes…” She threw herself against him, laughing and crying. “Yes to being in love with you, yes to being your wife. Yes, to it all, Jack. Forever.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7131-3
SEDUCE ME
Copyright © 2004 by Jill Shalvis.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.