Love Everlasting (Isle of Hope series Book 2) (25 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Shannon jumped up, body trembling as she clutched her arms to her waist. “Sam, I’m so sorry—I never meant to cause problems between you and Jasmine, I promise.”

She took a step back when he slowly rose, towering over her. “Not consciously, I suppose,” he said with a faint smile that tightened her stomach. She stopped breathing altogether when he stepped close enough to buff warm palms on her bare arms. “But subconsciously?” She couldn’t move, limbs paralyzed when his fingers slowly traced up her skin to glide over her shoulders, leaving fire in their wake as they skimmed up to cradle her face in his hands. His brown eyes softened with such affection, she thought she might faint. “I’m hoping and praying it was your plan all along,” he whispered, voice husky as he bent in, his shallow breathing merging with hers. “Because the truth is I’m falling in love with you, Shannon, and my only regret is that it took me so long to figure it out.”

She had no control over the tears that swelled in her eyes, and when he bundled her to his chest with a low chuckle, she literally sobbed. His strong arms banded her close until she could feel the wild beat of his heart, as chaotic as her own. He pressed a gentle kiss to her head. “Uh … I’m hoping that means you’re falling for me, too, and not that you feel sorry for me?”

A laugh broke from her lips that ended up quivering into a sodden heave, causing Sam to pull away with a grin. His smile was tender as he brushed the hair from her eyes. “You know, Shan, all this crying and laughing isn’t doing a whole lot for my ego. So if you don’t mind, can you tell me if you feel the same because if you don’t, I’m going to need some heavy-duty therapy from my best friend.”

Her lips trembled into a soggy smile as she nodded, hardly able to believe that Sam Cunningham felt about her the same way she did about him.

“Say it, then,” he whispered. A glimmer of the vulnerability he seldom revealed infused his words with an urgency that matched the intensity in eyes, naked with need.

Against her better judgment, her heart slowly unfurled like a rosebud ready to embrace the sun. With a rush of love, she cupped a shaky hand to his jaw while his handsome face blurred through her tears. “I’m afraid I’m falling for you, too, Sam Cunningham, whether I want to or not.”

A heart-melting grin eased across his face as he swooped her up in his arms, spinning her ’round and ’round until she was as dizzy as her heart. Setting her back down, he threaded gentle fingers into her hair and drew her close. “I’ve never met a woman like you, Shan,” he whispered, his eyes caressing her face as if it were the first time he was really seeing her. “So gentle, so kind …” His gaze settled on her lips, and her heart slammed against her ribs when he slowly bent in, mouth hovering over hers as if awaiting her consent. “So incredibly beautiful and pure …” His words faded into her mouth as he nuzzled her lips with such excruciating tenderness, a moan ached in her throat. “You even smell pure,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin, “fresh and clean, like the scent of vanilla.”

Her mouth curved beneath his. “I should smell like fish.”

“Angel fish,” he said, mouth wandering to fondle the lobe of her ear, “which are remarkably beautiful, by the way, just like you. Leading me to believe you’re not only the perfect friend, Angel Eyes, you’re the perfect woman as well.”

“Sam …” She shook her head, a sudden twinge in her chest. “There is no perfect woman,” she whispered, eyes suddenly sober as she pulled away with a melancholy smile.

His chin nudged up as he swept her hair over her shoulders. “Maybe not, but you’re as close as I’ve come, Shan, and I want to get to know you as a woman. Which means …” He melted her resistance with a crooked smile, brown eyes twinkling with tease. “High GPA and med degree notwithstanding, I’m not as smart as I think if it took me this long to figure that out.”

Her smile took a rare slant. “Unfortunately, I figured it out a while back, which hasn’t always made this friendship very easy.”

“Unfortunately?” He cocked a brow. “Hey, I don’t know about you, Teach, but I’m pretty happy about this unexpected turn of events.” A crease appeared at the bridge of his nose. “Aren’t you?”

She paused, her true emotions tangling into a ball of knots, right along with her stomach.
Happy that Sam wanted more than friendship?
She swallowed the fear that instantly clogged in her throat. Her eyes flickered closed when she realized what that meant. Not only had she fallen in love with another player against her will, but he wanted to return that love, to know her as a woman.

Vulnerable.

Weak.

And fragile enough to break.

Again.

A shiver skated her spine as she took a step back, not sure she wanted to risk it. Yes, Sam was changing, but so far it wasn’t the soul-deep change that she needed. Nor was she sure he could even change enough to commit to a love that would last a lifetime. A love everlasting, like God had given to her. A feat difficult enough for most human beings, much less a player with a propensity for women.

“Shan?”

Her eyes snapped open at the gentle slide of his palms up her arms.

“I won’t hurt you, I give you my word,” he whispered, the affection in his eyes easing her fears for the moment. He ducked to give her a gentle smile. “How about we start out nice and slow, with an official first date on Saturday?”

Hesitating, she peeked up with a chew of her lip, fighting the pull of his charm.

“Come on, Shan, I promise to behave. Scout’s honor.” He snapped to attention, two fingers to his brow in a salute.

Her smile slid sideways. “You weren’t a Boy Scout, Ham.”

“No, but I wanted to be,” he said, the pucker above his nose all for show. “Can I help it if I was a poor abandoned orphan shuffled through foster care and never given the opportunity?”

Shifting her stance, she folded her arms with a slack of her hip. “So you’re playing the orphan card, are you? Low blow, Dr. Love.”

He scooped her close with his wrists locked behind her, and her pulse went haywire at the dangerous proximity of his body against hers. “Whatever it takes to get you to say yes,” he whispered, eyes darkening with the same look she’d seen that first night in her car. “Even this …”

Before she could utter a single syllable, his mouth took hers with a gentle dominance that literally stole her breath away. Firmly cupping the back of her head, he kissed her exquisitely slow and deep and utterly possessive. Never had a man disarmed her so, the taste and touch of him drowning all restraint in a sea of want while heat purled through every inch of her trembling body. Eyes closed, she was still in a stupor when he pulled away, his fingers all but singeing her skin as they softly feathered the curve of her face. “Give me a chance, Shannon,” he said quietly, “please.”

Breathless, she could do nothing but nod, her mind too dazed to say no while her heart screamed yes with every treasonous beat of her pulse.

He leaned in to nestle his mouth close to her ear, his words hot against her cheek. “Saturday, seven o’clock, I’ll pick you up, all right?”

She blinked, still too hazy to form a coherent sentence.

Tucking a finger to her chin, he skimmed her jaw with his thumb while he seared her with that determined glint in his eyes. “If you don’t answer, Teach, I may have to kiss you again …”

“I … need to t-think a-about it, Sam.” Her words rushed out in a hoarse stutter as she jerked away, arms clutched to her waist like a barrier. “Then I’ll let you know, okay?”

“When?” The steeled look on his handsome face told her he wouldn’t give up easily, if at all.

“Soon,” she said with another step back, the blood still pounding in her brain. “After you take me home.” Heaven help her, she needed space if she was going to make a rational decision.

Lots and lots of space.

He huffed out a sigh tinged with frustration. “All right, kiddo.” Hooking her elbow, he practically dragged her down the pier, the clamp of his sculpted jaw telling her he wasn’t happy, but he’d do it her way.

For now.

But she knew Sam Cunningham almost better than he knew himself, which is why she paused when he opened the passenger door of his car. “I want your word, Sam, that you won’t kiss or touch me again until I make my decision.”

Those very lips that had stolen her will only seconds before now compressed into a thin smile that was anything but. “You have my word,” he said in a clipped tone, circling the car after he slammed her door with more force than usual. She knew he was angry because he didn’t speak on the way home, profile etched in stone as he focused straight ahead. He was a man who wasn’t used to a woman telling him no, especially when he’d just laid his heart on the line. But this was too important a decision to allow Sam to have his way without prayer and the counsel of people she trusted. This was her life and her heart at stake here, and possibly her very soul, so she had no desire to make the same mistakes all over again.

Veering into her driveway, he turned off the engine and got out of the car, completely silent as he ushered her to the front porch. Hands deep in his pockets, he patiently waited while she retrieved a key from beneath a potted planter and opened the door. Hand on the knob, she turned, a twinge in her heart over the hurt in his eyes. “I care about you deeply, Sam,” she whispered, “both as a friend and as someone with whom I could have so much more. But my heart was wounded once, almost beyond repair, and I will never go there lightly again.”

His eyes softened, appearing to chase his prior anger away, and the faint smile he gave her was achingly tender, revealing the soft side of Sam that had stolen her heart. “The kind of love I think we could have together, Shan, is so much more than I ever dreamed. So I’m more than willing to wait.”

Emotion thickened the walls of her throat. “I truly appreciate that, Sam, because the only type of love I’m willing to risk my heart on is one that will last forever, so it’s definitely worth the wait.”

He reached to gently prod the door open, nodding for her to go in. “Good night, Shannon. I’m praying you’ll say yes, but either way, I will love you forever.”

Tears welled like a flash flood, and reaching out, she caressed his bristled jaw, her hand quivering as much as her heart. “Good night, Sam,” she whispered, slipping inside while the look of love in his eyes forever branded her brain.
And if my gut tells me no …
Her eyes lumbered closed.

Maybe goodbye …

Chapter Thirty-Six

Here goes nothing.

Sam slipped out of his Vette and quietly closed the door, wishing he didn’t have his good shoes on as he picked his way down a gravel drive to the rustic cabin Chase Griffin rented on a small lake. From what he could see in the dark, it was a good-sized A-frame of sorts that faced a moon-striped body of water too big to be a pond. Tucked away in the trees, Chase’s house was one of a smattering of lakeside summer cottages, each far enough apart to ensure privacy.

He’s going to think I’m crazy.
Loosening the tie he’d worn on what had become his last date with Jazz, Sam sucked in a deep draw of loamy air and slowly mounted the steps to the front door, pretty sure Jack’s pastor friend already thought that, but then so what? It was true—he
was
crazy.

Over my best friend.

Shaking his head, Sam raised a fist to knock on a knotty pine door, questioning both his brains and his sanity in not realizing he’d been falling in love with Shannon all along. Unfortunately, it took being with Jazz several months to come to his senses, but once he had, the reality struck like a mega-watt bolt of lightning, leaving him more than a little stunned. But no more stunned than Shannon, he supposed, when he’d told her he was falling in love with her tonight. His mouth compressed. Or himself, for that matter, when she’d told
him
she needed time to think and pray about dating him at all.

He expelled a weary sigh. A girl like Shannon had never been his type. Sweet. Shy. Serious. And
way
too pure to give him the kind of love he’d wanted. Which is why it had never even crossed his mind that she was
exactly
the kind of girl who could give him the kind of love he
needed
. Not the physical kind he’d been searching for since high school, but a kind that could satisfy his heart and soul as well as his body.

Body?
A veritable hot flash zipped through him at the memory of the kiss he’d given her on the pier earlier, and his blood simmered with a passion he’d never experienced before. A melding of mind, body, and spirit that blew lust right out of the water, confirming to him once and for all that Shannon was everything he wanted in a wife and a lover—an unpolluted woman.

Innocent. Intelligent. Inspiring. And downright irresistible.

The perfect antidote to all the women who had betrayed him in his life.

His knock immediately prompted a dog within to bark, the ferocious sound confirming he was outmatched should a fight ensue if Chase refused Sam’s request to back off from Shannon. Sam’s mouth went flat as he knocked again. “Yeah, real smart, Cunningham—let’s tick off the ex-Navy Seal and his pit bull.”

The sound of footsteps on the other side of the door shook him from his thoughts, and he immediately stiffened, reminding him this was no social call. As much as he wanted to handle this calmly and maturely, he couldn’t shake this tension he felt inside, this edgy drive to eliminate the competition. Shannon was too important, and Chase was too much of a threat.

The door opened halfway, and Sam was face-to-face with the guy he didn’t want anywhere near Shannon, whether Shannon agreed to date Sam right now or not. His mouth morphed into a scowl.
Which
immediately softened at the sweet whine of a German shepherd the rev was holding back by the collar.

Before Sam could stop himself, he squatted to scratch behind the dog’s ears, the shepherd’s tail wagging so much, it stirred up a stiff breeze. “Hey there, buddy.”

Man, how he’d always wanted a dog growing up! But many of his foster families barely fed
him
, much less a mutt. And as a single man seldom home, he refused to coop an animal up all day and all night.

“Sam!” Chase opened the door wide, his broad smile obviously unaffected by Sam’s mild glare. “This is a nice surprise.”

Surprise? Definitely. Nice? No way.

Allowing himself a final scrub of the dog’s snout, Sam rose, his good mood dimming along with his smile. He plunged his hands in his pockets, fighting the sudden itch to let fly with a punch to that rugged pretty-boy face.

Knock it off, Cunningham
, he silently berated himself,
Chase is a reasonable guy
. “Can we talk?” Sam said, his tone suddenly as sharp as the jealousy lancing his gut.

“Sure, come on in.” Chase motioned for him to enter, and you would have thought Sam had T-bones in his pockets the way the shepherd went wild, tail whirlybirding while he tried to slather Sam nonstop.

“Sam,
sit!
”

The dog instantly did, and Sam’s mouth fell open. “Seriously? Your dog’s name is Sam?” He bent to ruffle the shepherd’s fur, peering up with a zag of his mouth. “Or was that command for me?”

A grin eased across Chase’s face as he closed the door, indicating for Sam to follow. “Him,” Chase said with a chuckle, ambling into a woodsy room as rustic on the inside as the cabin was on the outside. “Short for Samson. Although since you appear to be his new hero, maybe I should change it to Samuel.”

“Naw, Samson suits him—shaggy and strong like his namesake.” Sam strolled behind Chase into a tidy, but old-fashioned, knotty-pine kitchen with a generous window overlooking the lake. He slid onto a matching bar stool at a Formica counter.

Chase laughed as he opened an ancient refrigerator. “Somehow I never pegged you as a Bible guy, Doc.” He glanced up from the fridge. “Red Bull, OJ, or coffee?” His mouth tipped. “Or nearly expired milk since I may have one or two monster cookies left over from some that Shannon gave to me.”

At the mention of Shannon’s name, Sam’s mood went south, as sour as that milk was likely to be in another week. “Thanks, but I won’t be here that long,” he said in a clipped tone, jaw suddenly tight.

Eyes in a squint, Chase stood to his full height with a hand propped to the open fridge door. “Something eating at you, Sam?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact there is.” Sam tried to temper his scowl, but it was no use. The rev was an okay guy, he supposed, but right now he was too big an obstacle in Sam’s quest for Shannon, fraying his nerves. Steeling his backbone, Sam jutted his chin. “I broke it off with Jasmine tonight because I’ve discovered that I have deep feelings for Shannon,” he said, eyes unflinching, “so I’m hoping you’ll respect that, Chase, and be willing to back off.”

Chase closed the door with a cool look before he butted against the counter, muscled arms in a tight fold. “Not an easy thing to do, Doc, since I have feelings for her, too, you know.”

Sam’s chest constricted. “Are you in love with her?”

Head cocked, Chase studied Sam with an unreadable expression. “I’m on my way,” he said quietly, “and I’m not about to back off if she’s just another conquest to you, Sam.”

In a rare show of temper, Sam slammed a fist to the bar. “I’m in love with her, all right?” His voice came out harsh, shocking even him. He swallowed hard. “And she’s in love with me.” His voice tapered off to a near whisper. “So I’m asking you nicely, Rev, to do me this favor—please.”

“And who told you she’s in love with you?” Chase asked with a shuttered look, as if questioning Sam’s integrity.

Sam felt a tic in his temple. “She did. Tonight. After I told her I thought I was falling in love with her.”

“I see.” Without another word, Chase moved to a Keurig coffeemaker—the only new thing in the house—and punched in a K-cup and a mug below, his back to Sam while he waited for it to brew. Muscles that rivaled Sam’s own rippled through Chase’s thin T-shirt as he reached for a dog biscuit from a cookie jar, and Sam’s mouth clamped in a tight line. Whether Shannon agreed to a serious relationship with Sam right now or not, he was determined to oust all competition. His jawbone compressed with resolve. Because one way or the other, she
would
agree eventually if he had his way, and Sam didn’t want some muscle-bound minister messing that up.

Mug and dog treat in hand, the rev avoided eye contact on his way to the great room while his pup followed close behind. Tossing the treat in the air, Sam Jr. snatched it as Chase hunched on the edge of a brown leather sectional overlooking the lake, the setting real cozy while he sipped on his coffee.

Only Sam wasn’t here for cozy. “So, what’s your answer, Rev?” he said, rising to stroll into the main room.

“I’d get some coffee if I were you, Sam,” the rev said in an unequivocal monotone as he stared out the window, the tic in his jaw matching the one in Sam’s temple.

Frustration suddenly swarmed Sam’s collar, lighting his fuse. “I don’t want coffee, Griffin; I want your word you’ll back off from Shannon.”

Chase finally looked up, his steely gaze piercing Sam straight through. “Sure, Cunningham, I’ll back off.” He took a slow sip of his coffee, drilling Sam with a flinty look that had, no doubt, served him well as a Navy Seal. “On three conditions.”

Sam bristled. “And those are?”

Chase took his time with another sip, setting the cup down before slanting back with an arm straddling the top of the sofa, his smile hard. “One, you treat her honorably, respecting her moral boundaries. Which means, Dr. Love,” he said with a threat in his tone, “if you’re really serious about her like you say, then you toss your little black book in the trash and commit to her and only her. And no fast moves like you pull with other girls either. Shannon is a class act, Sam, and she deserves your respect and protection. So if I feel even a quiver of concern that you’re pressuring her in anyway” —he paused with a dip of his granite jaw, his intent more than perfectly clear— “I will mess you and your pretty face up real good, Doc, pastor or no, you got that?”

Sam met his stony look with a stubborn one of his own. “Yeah, I got that. But for your information,
Rev
, Shannon’s innocence and purity are two of the things I love about her most, so I have no intention of messing with that
or
her.”

“Can I have your word on that?” Chase pinned him with a challenge that scalded the back of Sam’s neck.

“I don’t have to give you anything,” Sam snapped, his tone sharp enough to embarrass him if he wasn’t so hot under the collar. He paused to massage the sudden throb between his eyes, desperate to curb an anger he suspected was completely fueled by fear. Expelling a shaky breath, he forced civility into his tone. “But I’ll give Shannon my word that my intentions are purely honorable.”

Without so much as a blink, Chase stared him down. “Then can I have your word on that?”

Sam let fly with a rare curse, the sound exploding into the air along with his temper. “Yeah, you have my word on that, Preacher Boy, so you happy?”

“Not yet.” He rose and strolled into the kitchen, pulling another cup from a cabinet. “I still have two more conditions, Doc.” He tossed the used K-cup in the trash and deposited another into the Keurig. “I want you to start coming to church on a regular basis,” he said with a hard glance over his shoulder. “Not any of these occasional visits when the mood strikes either, Sam, because Shannon deserves a man of faith, not some player just going through the motions.”

Sam worked hard to bridle his impatience. Not because he didn’t want to attend church regularly because he did, especially with Shannon. It was the rev’s mandate that ticked him off. “Not a problem because I know how important it is to Shannon.”

“
And
to you,” Chase emphasized, strolling back into the great room with another cup of coffee. He set it down in front of a log chair and ottoman woven in a Navaho pattern of rusts, browns, and blues. “Take a load off, Sam. You probably need to be sitting when I tell you condition number three.”

“Already told you, I’m not staying that long.” Ignoring the inviting call of the coffee, Sam slacked a hip, hands in his pockets.

“Sure you are,” Chase said with an overly confident air that got on Sam’s last nerve. “It goes along with condition number three.”

“Which is?” Sam singed him with a glare.

Picking up his mug, Chase settled back into his comfy leather sofa with a soft whoosh, eyeing Sam with a knowing smile. “Why, your own personal Bible study group, Dr. Cunningham, every week with you, me and Jack. Beginning tonight.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open. “You’re out of your mind.”

“So are you, Dr. Love, if you think I’m going to just step away and let some hotshot player with little or no faith beat my time with a woman I care about.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I’ll just take my chances then,” he shot back, thoroughly annoyed as he strode for the door. “After all, I’m the one who has her heart.”

“And I’m the one who has her faith, Doc,” Chase called from the sofa, so may the best man win.”

Sam froze with his hand on the knob, the preacher’s words stabbing right through the heart.

May the best man win.

He hung his head because deep down Sam knew that wasn’t him. And as much as he hated to admit it, Chase was right. Shannon
did
deserve a man of faith and not some player just going through the motions. He expelled a loud blast of air, fraught with frustration before he slowly returned to where Chase sat, face void of the smugness Sam had expected. Instead, all he saw was quiet concern that, knowing Chase Griffin’s reputation as a standup guy, he suspected was as much for him as it was for Shannon.