Page 11 of Chasing the Wild
"Yeah." His smile was unapologetic. "Don't care. You're mine now. I'm allowed to be creepy."
The casual way he said it—like it was simply fact, not up for debate—should have set off alarm bells. Instead, it sent warmth flooding through my chest.
"Sam—"
"You have a dimple," he said, reaching out to trace a spot on my cheek. "Right here. Only shows up when you smile for real, not when you're performing."
I froze. "What?"
"I've been watching you since yesterday. Watching you smile at your coworkers—tight, professional, not reaching your eyes. Watching you smile at your boss—even tighter, trying to prove something." His thumb brushed the spot again, and my skin tingled. "But just now, when you took that first sip of coffee? Real smile. Real you."
"That's..." I struggled to find words. "That's kind of intense."
"I'm an intense guy. Better get used to it, because I plan on learning everything about you." His gaze held mine. "What makes you smile for real. What makes you laugh. What makes you scream my name. Starting with this dimple."
"You can't know all that from watching me sleep."
"No," he agreed. "But I know you're exhausted in ways that have nothing to do with this trip. I can see the tension in your jaw. I know you flinch every time Belinda says your name, like you're expecting criticism even when you've done everything right."
How did he see all that? How could he possibly see all that when my own colleagues—people I'd worked with for years—thought I had everything under control?
"Don't," I said, my voice cracking.
"Don't what? Don't see you?" He leaned closer. "Too late. I see you. The real you. And I'm not looking away."
"I can't—" I didn't know how to finish that sentence. Can't handle this? Can't believe you? Can't accept that someone sees through my armor and wants me anyway?
"Yes, you can." His certainty was absolute. "You just need someone who sees you to help you believe it. So that's what I'm going to do. Starting right now. Now drink your coffee before it gets cold. We've got a long day ahead."
"What kind of long day?"
His smile turned wicked. "The kind where I push you past every limit you think you have. Where you learn to trust your body and your instincts instead of that overthinking brain. Where I show you exactly what you're capable of when you stop trying to control everything."
The promise in his words made me very aware that we were alone in a quiet corner of the lodge, that his hand was still cupping my face, that it would be so easy to close the distance between us and—
"Sam? We've got a situation."
We both turned to see Richard standing a few feet away, looking uncomfortable at having interrupted whatever moment he'd walked in on.
Sam's jaw clenched, but he didn't try to create distance or pretend this was anything other than what it was.
"What kind of situation?" he asked.
"Belinda's having a meltdown. Something about needing to get back for a client emergency. She's demanding we leave immediately, storm or no storm."
Sam stroked my cheek before he finally pulled away, standing. "Tell her I'll be there in five minutes."
Richard nodded and retreated, though not before shooting me a knowing look.
Great. That was going to hit the office gossip mill fast.
THE SITUATION WITHBelinda was every bit as dramatic as I'd expected.
She stood by the fireplace, perfectly coiffed despite the storm and sleeping in a lodge. Around her, the other lawyers were in various states of dishevelment and discomfort, clearly ready to get back to civilization.
"Mr. Edwards," Belinda said with the particular tone she used when she expected immediate compliance. "I need to speak with you about our departure timeline."
"We're not departing until the storm clears enough to travel safely," Sam replied, his voice implacable. "That's non-negotiable."
