Page 89 of And Then Came You

However, if I made Sam uneasy, he’s hiding it well. A small smile floats along his lips, his fingers curling deeper into my damp hair. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

I plant my head back on his chest, my bravado wearing thin. He’s thinking about marriage. Kids. I should be happy. I want Sam happy, and I’m lucky because Almira has never begrudged him our friendship. If he chooses her, which I’m certain he will, our friendship will remain as long as we choose to maintain it.

That needs to be enough.

But the harder I try to force the happiness, the more the sadness bubbles to the surface, overrunning everything in its path. I hold back the sobs, but I know Sam feels my tears on his chest.

His grip tightens and his lips press to my forehead. “I promise you. No one will ever hurt you again.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing. You’re beautiful, and kind and you have the most amazing heart. He’s the asshole, Lex. Not you.”

I wipe my face, but the tears keep flowing. Once the dam breaks, there’s no stopping the onslaught of sorrow. “I feel so stupid, falling for yet another jerk. How do I keep missing it? You saw it, but I thought I knew better. You know the worst part? I didn’t even really like him.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, I was brokenhearted over you, so I looked for someone to fill the hole. Instead, he left a few new ones. My own fault. You might think me crazy, but you’re the greatest love story I’ve ever had.”

For a moment, Sam doesn’t move, save for his gaze, which studies every inch of my face. He slides his hand along my jaw, pressing his forehead to mine. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I felt stupid, and when I feel stupid, I clam up. I didn’t want you feeling sorry for me, or worse, ruining our friendship. Your friendship means the world to me, and I want you in my life, Sam. I don’t want to lose my friend. Besides, I’m giving up on romance. If I haven’t figured it out in thirty-seven years, I never will.”

“Don’t give up, Lexi. I promise you, the next guy is going to love you to the moon and back.”

“You sound so certain.”

Another kiss to the forehead, the coolness of his piercing a contrast to his warm lips. “Some things I just know. You would look really good in love, Lexi. You deserve that. God knows you’ve dealt with enough shit from men.”

“Everyone needs a talent. Mine is finding the biggest asshole in the room.” I rest my chin on his chest, letting my fingers trace along the firm musculature. “But I got lucky the day I met you. You’ve saved me. Twice.”

“I’m the lucky one, Lexi.” A shiver rushes through me, and Sam pulls the blanket up tight around me, tucking me closer to his side. “I worry you’re going to get sick.”

I shrug, although I’m fairly certain his suspicions are correct. My chest feels heavy and I can’t get warm, no matter how many blankets I wrap around me. “I should sleep in the other room. The last thing you need is to get sick, too.”

“Nice try. You’re staying right here. Besides, body heat works better than any blanket.”

There’s truth in his words. Sam’s body radiates warmth, even if I can’t snuggle close enough for my liking.

“Here,” Sam grins, shifting out from under me as he turns on his side, enveloping me in his arms. “Better?”

“A bit.”

His hands drift down the front of my robe, loosening the ties and pulling it apart. Then I feel the press of his heated skin, every inch of me pressed against him. “Body heat,” is his only response to my questioning glance, although I catch a flash of mischief in his eyes as he speaks the words.

I’m lying naked with Sam.

How many nights did I imagine this moment, and now it’s here? My heart quickens, realizing that instead of holding me through fabric, his hands now glide over my bare skin.

“Your poor face,” he whispers, breaking me from the minor high of my daydream.

Back to reality, Lexi. You are lying naked next to Samuel Bernard, but the reason is twofold. You’ve just gotten your face mangled by the asshole du jour, and Sam’s doctor is certain you’ve got the plague.

In other words, I’m the antithesis of sexy, and that’s using a normal scale. Compared with Sam’s version? I don’t even register on the meter.

“I’m so tired.”

“You need to sleep.” Sam drops feather-light kisses across my bruised cheek. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”

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