Page 49 of Samson

“You’re doing it again.”

He folded his hands on the table and shook his head against the wide grin that covered his face. “I asked you for the truth, and I guess I’m getting it.”

“Do you find it refreshing or annoying?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

She smiled despite herself.

“There we go,” he said. “It’s not often I get one of those.”

“What, my smile?”

“Yeah. It’s beautiful—” He bunched his lips together. “Sorry.”

“So you don’t mean it?”

“Oh, no, I definitely mean it. I always mean everything I say to you. But it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It does.”

“You’re obviously not accustomed to compliments.”

“Or I worry you’re trying to get something from me.”

“Really?”

“Is that not what’s happening? The other night you invited me to your bed.”

“I can see how you would misunderstand.”

“You were quite clear.”

His face flattened. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then enlighten me.”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me the details of what brought you to Virginia.”

“Okay. Deal. You first.”

Samson twisted his whiskey glass around on the table. He hadn’t touched it. “I’m not used to people caring about how I feel. It was my defense mechanism. I knew it would push you away.”

“You did not.”

“I’m dead serious.”

She could see that he was, and she remembered Luca’s words about her wanting to fix a broken man. “I really made you uncomfortable asking you how you were doing?”

“You did.”

“I won’t do it again.”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m not the only one with walls.”

“We all come with our baggage.”

“Yes, we do. Speaking of which. It’s your turn.”

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