Page 60 of The Love Lie
Sam?
New York?
A different life with different options and different choices?
The soil beneath him was made fertile by the blood, sweat, and tears of his ancestors. He can’t be the one to let it die. He won’t be. But at what cost? Will he spend the rest of his lifegiving everything he has to this place, always dreaming about what lies beyond?
Wes nudges him. “Get some food, Coop, before it’s gone.”
He does.
But the question lingers. While he sets up his sleeping bag. While he stares up at the moon. While he wakes with the dawn. While he saddles his horse. While he rounds up the cattle, spinning, circling, cutting—actions even more innate than breathing. Then he settles down at the end of the day and calls Nina one more time. She answers on the first ring.
“Don’t even say it—”
“Nina.”
“I’m not giving you her number.”
“Nina—”
“I’m giving you something better. I’m giving you Sam, in the flesh.”
His heart shudders to a halt. “What do you mean?”
“Between the end of filming and the live finale, the winning couple always gets one secret visit in a remote location, away from potential paparazzi, organized by the network. I’d say your ranch is about as remote as they come. So I need dates, Cooper. I’m going to get Sam to come to you. Trust me on this.”
He does. Not because he trusts her, but because he knows their interests are currently aligned. She needs Sam to cooperate for the sake of the show. He needs one more conversation. Okay, he wants a helluva lot more than a conversation, but it’s a start. Either way, he and the producer both want the same thing—Sam back in his life.
He runs a few quick calculations. “I need six weeks to get everything sorted at the ranch.”
“Six weeks,” Nina repeats, mulling it over. “You got it, cowboy. Six weeks. Pull that glass slipper out of storage, becauseyour runaway bride is coming home. And this time, it’ll be up to you to figure out how to keep her.”
The producer hangs up.
Cooper slowly lowers his phone and fights the smile tugging at his lips as the wordsSamandhomeandbrideall swirl together in a heady mix. Something warm bubbles in his chest, something a little too close to hope. Nina’s closing statement lingers.
It’ll be up to you to figure out how to keep her.
He likes the sound of that.
He likes it a little bit too much.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
sam
Motherfucker.
Sam jostles the key and yanks on the doorknob, but the lock remains stuck. So she tries again. Stuck. One more time. Stuck.
“Goddammit,” she finally screams and slaps the door with her open palm. Then she kicks it. Then she slaps it again. Then she takes a long deep breath, searching for a single iota of calm in her entire body, and twists once more.
The door to her apartment swings open.
She walks straight into the living room, collapses onto the couch, covers her face with a pillow, and screams.
It’s been two weeks since the Maldives.
