Finding you, p.22
Finding You, page 22
“Beth, I care about you a great deal. I just don’t know who I am. I could be a criminal for all either of us know. How the hell am I supposed to subject you to what I uncover? If I even uncover anything at all?” He raked a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I’d like nothing better than to give you the romance and passion you deserve. I want to be able to consider you first. I simply can’t. But I do know I don’t want to see what we’ve built so far be destroyed.”
“What do you mean what we’ve built so far?” Elizabeth’s temper boiled over. She hadn’t realized it was simmering when only moments before she’d felt so drained. “We have nothing, Joe! Nothing but friendship. If that.” She rose and stormed to where he stood. Without intention, she punched him in the chest. “You left me standing in a restaurant by myself, at night, to chase after a woman who may or may not know you. Who does that?”
He stared at her in tortured silence.
“After you finally found your way back here tonight, I didn’t even get an ‘I’m sorry I ruined your evening, Beth.’ What the hell do I look like to you? A doormat?” she screeched.
Shame clung to every line of his body. Arguing was futile because he knew she was right. “I never considered you a doormat, babe. And I do love you. Maybe not the way you wish, but it’s still love any way you look at it. I didn’t spend this last year and a half of my life with you just for the hell of it. I wasn’t just marking time. You mean something to me. It’s why I found an apartment and a job to support myself.”
He gripped her shoulders, but she shrugged him off. “Don’t,” she warned.
With a heavy sigh, he released her. “Not being able to give someone a name to call you, not having memories, and not having references to check out, made all of that a little more difficult, but I did it. I did it so I wouldn’t have to feel I was using you. You, the only person I know enough to even care about. So, if that makes me a selfish asshole, then I’m sorry.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to be silent. She understood. Even ached for him. She just wasn’t budging or compromising any longer.
“I’m sorry I ruined your evening, Beth,” he stated on a sigh.
Joe gave her one last long look before turning and heading out the door.
Chapter 27
Stephen let Samantha cry out her guilt and pain. He tried to tell her she had nothing to be sorry for, but she insisted she did. He understood the grieving process, and perhaps for the first time, she was experiencing the final steps to let Michael go for good.
There were so many things he wanted to tell her. To confess his love for her and ask her to marry him was utmost on that list. He held off. Timing was everything. Right now wasn’t the perfect moment to tell her his heart’s desire. They both needed to be on the same page when it came to future promises.
Perhaps he was a little reticent about proposing marriage because his first engagement had turned into such a disaster. The professional in him knew fear of the unknown could paralyze someone and prevent them from making a decision or moving forward. Stephen still wasn’t sure Samantha saw him as anything but a friend, and he needed assurances. He was human enough to admit it.
“Samantha, I think we need to turn in. I just came by to make sure you were okay with everything that happened tonight. When you ignored your cell, I was worried. I figured I would see if you wanted to talk.” She burrowed deeper against him. “Besides, your mascara is ruining my shirt.”
The last sentence jerked Samantha’s head upright. First, she glanced at his damp shirt and then to his face. She relaxed once she registered his teasing.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being my friend even when you were my doctor.”
“Just wait until you get my bill.”
She smiled. “I’d gladly pay it, Stephen. No matter what the cost.”
“Even if it meant being my wife?” he wanted to ask. Instead, he tapped her nose. “Okay, so it’s agreed. You’ll buy me breakfast tomorrow before the signing.”
“The book signing! Shit! Oh, Stephen, I forgot,” she exclaimed.
“That’s why I’m here, my dear. To not only be your friend, therapist, and fellow diner, but to remind you of the small things like your career and the book signings that go with it.”
She smiled at him again but added rather seriously, “No. You came to help me find Michael, which is the real reason I’m here, and you know it. But I’m starting to have doubts that will ever happen.”
“If he’s alive, we’ll find him. Right now, our game plan for tomorrow is simple. We get up, get dressed, eat a huge breakfast—because you’re buying—and then we go our separate ways.”
“What? You aren’t coming with me?”
He grinned at her and gave a small shake of his head.
“What are you up to, Stephen?” A speculative gleam entered her eyes.
“You’ll just have to wait.”
“But I can’t stand surprises.”
“Really? Huh. And here I thought I knew everything there was to know about you.”
He laughed and shifted to stand. Samantha tackled him against the mattress.
“What the hell?”
She had him pinned in five seconds flat.
Grinning down into his face, she told him, “Here is something else you may not know about me. I’m a sore loser.”
As he gazed into her face, it occurred to him he’d never seen her look more beautiful. Or sexy. His body was sending him all kinds of signals, and his mind worked diligently to shut them down.
“No, I must say, I was not aware of that one.” The huskiness in his voice belied their playfulness.
Without thought to anything else but the need to finally taste her lips, he tangled his fingers in her hair. He pulled her face down to a mere inch away from his, giving her plenty of opportunity to pull away. She didn’t. Instead, she closed the distance and became the aggressor. Stephen rolled over to press her into the mattress as he ravaged her mouth. Tongue battled tongue. Pulling. Sucking. Never quite getting enough. They parted to gulp oxygen into their lungs. All they could do was stare at each other in awe and amazement.
Samantha recovered first. “I need to get some sleep. We have to get an early start tomorrow.”
“Mmhmm.”
He gazed into her pale blue eyes, lost in wonder. Even crippled by the riot of sensations she’d caused with her kiss, he didn’t miss her sly look.
Leisurely, she trailed her fingers from the nape of his neck to the opening of his shirt. She wove her fingers into the fine hairs on his chest and tantalized him with her touch. Samantha lowered her gaze to avoid letting him see her intent.
“So what is on your agenda for tomorrow, Stephen?” she whispered, nibbling along his jaw.
He allowed a small amount of space between them to search her face.
“Well?” she insisted.
The hint of impatience in her tone gave her away.
Without blinking, he deadpanned, “We get up, get dressed, eat a huge breakfast—because you’re buying—and then we go our separate ways.”
He rolled to his feet and darted through the connecting door. Laughter erupted from him when he heard her cry of outrage. It served the little schemer right.
“Jerk!”
“Yep!”
Chapter 28
The sun rose, bringing with it one of the most spectacular displays of color Sammy had the good fortune to witness. The pink, orange, and purple hues blended to perfection over the metal and brick buildings littering the horizon.
She sat on the balcony and wondered when she’d last paused to consider the splendor of a dawning day? Quite probably long before Michael disappeared from her life. She decided then and there this sunrise would herald a new beginning.
Her baby was dead, and Michael… well, Michael wasn’t coming back. Joe had stated it correctly. Her Michael would have been in contact. Recovering what she’d had was a pipe dream. A team of therapists, along with Stephen and her family, had tried to prove it to her over the last two years. A universal truth she’d refused to accept. No longer could it be denied.
A loud knock carried to her, heralding room service.
“I didn’t order anything,” Sammy protested.
“No, ma’am. Dr. Montgomery ordered it for you. He sends his regrets that he couldn’t join you this morning.”
What the hell was Stephen up to?
The hotel staffer set up the food on the balcony. It enabled her to enjoy the remaining few minutes of the glorious morning. She signed the room service slip—making sure to include a hefty tip—and poured herself a cup of hot chocolate from the heated carafe. She took the first sip and sighed her contentment. Mexican chocolate. Was anything more delicious?
Although there was a week left to her Dallas trip, there were only two actual signings over the weekend. She’d built in a few days to conduct her investigation into Michael’s supposed death. Did she still want answers? Did it matter anymore? Perhaps to a small degree.
Maybe it was time to sell the house she’d built with Michael. Buy a condo on the beach somewhere. She had always liked the west coast of Florida with its white sandy beaches and clear aquamarine water. In no way did she think she could recapture the girl she’d been two years ago. But she could take the remaining foundation and rebuild from there.
She thought about what she had shared with Stephen last night. Quite the wake-up call! Before his fevered kiss, she’d naively believed she couldn’t physically feel anything for anyone else. Now, she knew differently.
Figuring Stephen into her plans for her new life would be nice. He had come to mean a lot to her. Although, perhaps it was best to make a clean break. Stephen did love her. Hadn’t he proved that with every action? He believed in her enough to follow her to Dallas. Countless times she’d sensed his reservations, and yet, in one simple, soul-destroying kiss, she felt all his yearning.
Who knew Stephen had it in him to be so passionate? Certainly not Sammy. Being self-absorbed for so long hadn’t allowed insight and understanding into someone else’s situation. It was well past time for her to be a better friend, sibling, and daughter.
Sammy picked up her cell phone and stared down at it. If she called her mother, what advice might she receive?
Sammy dialed Violet’s number.
“Hello?”
“Mom, it’s me, Sammy.”
“Samantha,” Violet sighed her name as if she’d been waiting for this particular call.
“Do you have a moment for your shitty, selfish daughter?”
“What’s wrong?”
Her mother’s perceptiveness surprised her. Why? She didn’t know. After all, her mother was intuitive by nature.
“Nothing. Really.” Sammy played with her butter knife, knowing she was stalling. Trying to work out the best way to continue, she asked, “Mom, what do you think of Stephen?”
She heard her mother’s soft laugh on the other end of the line.
“What’s so funny?”
“I wondered if you’d get around to realizing what a wonderful and sexy man he was.”
“I’ve always thought he was wonderful,” she defended. But in reality, she’d never seen him as a man before last night.
“Did you, Samantha? Be truthful. Or did you just take it for granted that he was your friend, willing to do anything for you, just as you always assumed everyone would.”
It was disconcerting to have her mother echo her thoughts from the night before. Sammy couldn’t suppress the urge to defend herself from that terrible time in her life. “Mom, I think that’s really unfair. I’ve been through a lot these last few years.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings, but you have been completely obsessed about Michael. You shut down and guarded your feelings around everyone who loved you. You expected everyone to do for you. And they did. Without any gratitude on your part in return. The constant take wears on a person, Samantha.”
“Why are you saying this to me now?” she asked, trying like hell to not break down blubbering from the sharp edge of her mother’s words.
“Because you’re finally ready to hear it. You’ve been a ghost of the woman you once were. You’ve been unreachable. Never laughing or enjoying life. We all missed the happy girl you used to be. But what’s more, I missed my daughter.” Sammy detected a catch in her mother’s voice. Violet was trying her damnedest not to cry. “Keep in mind Jamie lost a best friend, your father and I lost what would have been our grandchild, and Annie truly needed a friend she could talk to during her divorce.”
Violet packed a verbal punch, and Sammy reeled under the blow. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t think. Didn’t know,” she whispered.
“I know. I was simply pointing out other people exist in the world. Don’t be hard on yourself. You tend to do that, too. You go from one extreme to the other. But I’m glad you're on your way back. Your dad, brother, and sisters will be, also.”
The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. It was more meaningful than anything. It had always been like that with the mother/daughter duo. A shared closeness they both held so dear.
“So, Mom, you think Stephen is hot, huh?” she teased to lighten the mood.
“Very!”
“Mother!”
“What? I’m only human. But if you tell your father, I’ll deny it to my dying breath. And back to your original question, I think he’s perfect for you.”
“I’ve decided to give up the search for Michael.”
Sammy could imagine her mom’s closed eyes as Violet sent a silent thank you skyward. She’d loved Michael, but apparently, she hated what his death had done to her youngest daughter. Her mom would want her to find happiness again.
“Why?” Violet asked.
They both understood the question was a loaded one.
“I ran into a man last night. Mom, I could have sworn he was Michael. The way he moved, how he looked. His voice…” She rubbed the area above her heart. “I found out differently. It occurred to me, I’ve been acting irrationally. Refusing to accept the truth of what is. The man from my nightmare was right, Michael isn’t coming home.” She swallowed a sob. “And yet, through it all, Stephen has been so supportive. Did you know Stephen loves me?”
Violet hesitated before answering. “Yes.”
“I thought you might.”
“Did he tell you?”
“No, Joe did.”
“Who’s Joe?”
“The man I believed was my Michael.”
“This sounds like a long story.”
“It is. I promise to tell you all about it when I get back. Have I told you what a great mother you are?”
“No, you’re a rotten kid.”
Sammy laughed. She had missed their banter. Suddenly, she felt like a kid again, insecure and missing her mom.
“I love you, Mom,” she choked out.
“I love you too, honey. Have a safe trip back.”
Chapter 29
Joe was unsure what force drew him downtown. Probably the need to escape his apartment, along with the usual doubts he felt about not remembering his past. He had just exited his favorite bakery when he spotted people flocking into the bookstore located a block away. Curious, he strolled closer. A distraction from his problems would be welcome.
He skimmed the sign in the window then did a double take. His heart skipped a beat and resumed at triple time. Samantha Holt, along with five other authors, was in attendance today. She had to be the same woman from last night. The coincidence was too great. He vaguely recalled her mentioning her book during their conversation, but he never suspected she was a professional author. Astonishment and something close to disappointment settled inside him.
Was it possible the reason she seemed familiar had nothing to do with recognizing her and everything to do with the advertisement? Maybe a part of his subconscious had pieced it all together. It was highly probable. He walked to this bakery most mornings for a cup of coffee and an egg bagel. The flyer announced a book signing.
For a moment, he toyed with the idea of fate. Why was she here, at this exact place and time? Coincidence? His feet led him by way of his churning thoughts. He loitered toward the back of the room and watched Samantha interact with her fans. She was incredible. Always smiling and upbeat when inside, he knew her heart must still be battered from all she had been through.
Joe perused the book display and picked hers from the authors featured there. As he read the back cover, an ache formed deep in the region of his heart. Her story. Or rather, hers and Michael’s. Instinct told him as much. Yes, it was depicted as fiction, and the character names were different, but the cover portrayed the tragedy of love lost and found. Without bothering to second-guess himself, he joined the line with all her other would-be readers.
He glanced down at his wristwatch and discovered it was only a few minutes until noon. He was surprised he’d hung around for over an hour. The sign on the store’s easel at the front indicated the session ended at twelve, and Samantha would only be autographing books for another five minutes. A handful of people stood between them, and he judged it would take at least a half-hour for her to get to him. There was plenty of time, and so he waited, watching. Trying not to feel like a stalker.
* * *
A low grumble from Sammy’s stomach was her body’s reminder it was nearly lunchtime. If she didn’t get food soon, she was liable to turn hangry. No one wanted a mean Sammy on their hands.
Only two people remained—a middle-aged woman and a man. The bookstore’s owner, Lauren, stepped in to enforce the time limit for the customer currently chatting her ear off. If it came from someone else, Sammy could offer a commiserating smile to her fan.
