Love Everlasting (Isle of Hope series Book 2) (14 page)

BOOK: Love Everlasting (Isle of Hope series Book 2)
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His husky chuckle tumbled her stomach as he placed the ring on her finger, a dangerous smile matching the heated look in his eyes. “Enough to break a few rules with a little temptation? Like snuggling on the couch to watch a movie?” He slowly traced the shape of her lips with the pad of his thumb, his intentions abundantly clear. “And I have Häagen-Dazs …”

Tess gulped.
Häagen-Dazs and Ben—Lord have mercy!

Swallowing hard, she put as much distance between them as she possibly could, given the tight circle of Ben’s arms to her waist. “Häagen-Dazs is one temptation I’ll succumb to anytime, Dr. Carmichael, but out here on the patio, if you will.” Tugging free from his hold, she stood on tiptoe to slowly graze his lips with her own before holding out her hand to admire her ring. “Because the way I feel about you right now, Doc?” A warm shiver pebbled her skin as she hurried to claim one of his Adirondack chairs, tucking her legs to settle in with a shaky wink. “I sure don’t trust myself inside.”

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

“I’m telling you, woman, you missed your calling.” Sam wiped the sweat from his face with the bottom of his “Pediatrician … I see little people” T-shirt, revealing a tan six-pack that depleted all moisture from Shannon’s throat. “I swear you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met,” he said, repeating a compliment he often doled out during their counseling sessions. “And I’ve met some pretty brainy chicks in med school, Shan, but you’re a bloomin’ genius, you know that?”

In plotting a relationship between the player and the princess in her novel, yes.
Shannon humored him with a patient smile as they headed toward the Camp Hope gym after a basketball game with the kids.
But in pursuing a friendship between a player and a ghostwriter?
Shannon’s smile went south. She couldn’t be too darn smart if she was starting to look forward to these “sessions” more than she should. After several times of hanging out following camp and almost daily texts, her friendship with Sam had grown to the point where she’d rather spend time with him than write or hang out with her friends—two things that had always satisfied her loneliness before.

The only bright spot was that her romance novel was coming along swimmingly, the need to channel all her pent-up feelings for Sam fueling her cause. And although the growing closeness between them alarmed her at times, she truly believed the spiritual groundwork she was laying far outweighed the risk to her heart. A risk she completely gave to God since she now believed her friendship with Sam was in His plan all along. “Define genius,” she said as he bobbled the basketball back and forth.

He focused on the ball while he spun it on his finger, providing ample opportunity to study him unaware.
A dangerous thing to do.
The more she saw of the “real” Sam with his wellspring of vitality, the more she was drawn into the vortex of a man who at the core, possessed an almost childlike humility and hope. A little-boy innocence of sorts that was so at odds with the self-confident charmer about town. There were times like now when the player was nowhere in sight, giving way to a crazy and carefree man whose energy for life was so strong, it sent her heart spinning more than the ball on his finger. “You know, a woman so in touch with her feelings—both spiritually and emotionally—that she’s a beacon of truth to all those she knows and loves.”

Shannon deflected the heat in her cheeks with a wry smile. “Gosh, Doc, you make me sound like the Statue of Liberty.”

He paused the ball mid-spin, his faint smile belied by the intensity in his eyes. “That’s because you are, Shannon, to me anyway. You’ve liberated me, kiddo, in more ways than you know.”

“I’m glad,” she whispered, uttering a silent prayer she could one day usher him into the true freedom of faith. “So, Dr. Love … why am I a ‘genius’ today?”

Mischief curled on his lips as he palmed the ball with one hand, his sideways glance offering a teasing dance of brows. “Apparently Jazz and Mr. Wrong are having issues, and she’s coming to me for advice.”

“Really?” Shannon’s heart sped up, a mix of pride and joy colliding with a hint of malaise. “What happened?”

He tossed the ball back and forth as they approached the gym, his smile suddenly ebbing along with the prior victory in his tone. “She showed up at my place last night crying,” he said quietly, “so we talked for a long while, deeper than we ever have before.” He opened the gym door for Shannon and followed her in, unleashing a heavy sigh as he put the ball away. “And I’ll tell you what, Shan—tore me up so much, I just wanted to swallow her up in my arms and make the hurt go away.” He fell in step beside her on the way to the parking lot. “So I asked her to stay for popcorn and a movie.”

Shannon skidded to a stop, several pebbles flying when she spun to face him. “You didn’t try and …” She fought the rise of a gulp, not really wanting to hear his answer.

His mouth tipped. “No, Teach. I did just what you told me, as difficult as it was. Comfort, coffee, and nothing else.” He opened her door and she slid in, waiting for him to get in on the other side. “And let me tell you,” he continued after he started the ignition, “the woman was all over me before the credits could even roll, almost pouting when I wouldn’t put out.” He gave her a wink before easing the Vette out of the lot. “Kinda felt like you, Shan.”

Shannon gaped at his profile in awe, hardly able to believe the playboy in Sam had turned away the woman he loved. “You mean you didn’t even kiss her?”

Strains of Keith Urban’s “But for the Grace of God” filtered through the car as a slow smile wended its way across his lips. “Sushi okay?” he asked, ignoring her question.

“No, sushi is
not
okay,” she said with a slap of his arm. “You
know
I don’t do slimy.”

He flashed a grin with a wiggle of dark brows. “Yeah, I do, remember?”

She whacked him again, face burning over his reference to the one and only pass he’d ever made. “I need real protein, Doc, not designer fish food, and you didn’t answer my question. Did you kiss her or not?”

“Nope.” With a smug smile, he got on the Harry S. Truman Parkway, and she knew he was taking her to Sandfly BBQ, one of her favorite obsessions.

After him, of course.
Her smile bottomed out over a thought she had no business thinking.
Buck up, O’Bryen—this is friendship, remember?

“I didn’t kiss her, Teach, but she sure kissed me.” He shot her a grin before accelerating to his usual breakneck speed on the highway.

Shannon’s jaw dropped, pretty sure her eyes were as round as his headlights. “Oh my goodness, Sam, what did you do?”

His broad shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, smile soft as the Vette ate up the miles. “I just pushed her gently away and told her I respected our friendship and her relationship with the boyfriend too much to mess either of them up. So she left.”

Shannon hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until it seeped through her lips. “Before the movie?”

“Yep.” He glanced her way, a definite gleam in his eyes. “But not before laying one on me at the door that almost made me cry before I pushed her away. I sent her home more than a little frustrated, I guarantee you, but she wasn’t alone. But it was all worth it, though, because I can sense a shift in her, you know? Like the winds are starting to blow my way.” He winked. “Shouldn’t be long now before she dumps the chump and we’re back together for good.”

Shannon drew in a deep breath, slowly releasing it again. “You so sure about that, Doc?” she said quietly, pretty certain it wasn’t going to be as easy as that.

He squinted at her as he exited the highway, a deep cleft at the bridge of his nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it, Sam,” she said, voice soft to cushion the blow of what she was about to say. “She’s left you twice before, so what makes you think she’s gonna stay this time?”

“Hey, I’ve changed, haven’t I?” There was a thread of hurt in his tone.

Her smile was gentle. “Marginally, yes, but I suspect it’s only a temporary change to win her back, not deep-down change to convince her you’re the man for her.”

He pulled into the parking lot of Sandfly BBQ and jerked the hand brake up a little too forcefully, clearly frustrated. “Come on, Shan, have a little faith in me, will you?”

“I’d really like to, Sam,” she whispered, heart racing at the subject she was about to broach, one Sam didn’t cotton to, based on their many conversations. But deep down she knew it was time, and her friendship with him was worth nothing if she couldn’t supply him with the truth. She ducked her head to peek up with the deep affection God had so abundantly deposited into her heart. “In fact I’d like to have a whole lot of faith in you where it counts, Sam—deep down in your soul. Life-changing faith, like the kind we can only get from God.”

He hurled his car door open with a groan that made her smile, practically stomping around the vehicle to open her door as he always insisted on doing. “You’re going to ruin our BBQ if you keep this up—”

She held up a hand before she rose from the car, brows elevated in teacher mode. “No, wait—hear me out, please.” He extended his hand to assist as always, and she popped up, stepping aside to let him close the door. “Einstein said, ‘Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.’ Which is what you’ll be doing, Sam—settling back in to the same old routine that didn’t satisfy her before.”

His jaw condensed as he steered her up the steps into the small but wide Streamliner railcar building, palm firm at the small of her back. “Okay, okay, so how do I change that?”

“You don’t, Sam—God does.” She slid into a booth and faced him with hands folded on the table, offering a grateful smile when the waitress delivered menus and took their drink order.

He shook his head as the waitress left, snatching up the menu to study it. “Oh no, Angel Eyes, we’re not going there.”

She waited till he laid it down again, then leaned in, her smile warm with affection. “Tell me, Sam—do you trust me?” she asked, tenderness lacing her tone.

He stared at her for several tics of his jaw before his scowl surrendered into a sigh. “Yeah, I trust you,” he muttered, “way more than God, I can tell you that.” He managed a forced smile of thanks to the waitress when she delivered their drinks. “But you already know how I feel about that, Shannon. God wasn’t there for me when I was shuffled from foster home to foster home, so I don’t see any reason to be there for Him now.”

She paused. “But you
do
believe in Him, right?”

He pushed the menu away, face pinched in a frown. “Yeah, I believe in Him. But only because of this crazy cop who took me under his wing after I got into trouble on the streets. And
only
because
he
pounded it into my brain that God cared about me, saying that was the reason he reached out to me in the first place—because God told him to.”

Sam’s gaze lapsed into a dead stare, a sudden sheen of moisture glazing his eyes, which immediately pricked tears at the back of Shannon’s own. “He was a crazy old coot, but I’ll tell you what. Whether God told him to or not, Gus Garavelli was the only one who ever really took the time to know me, care about me. The only one who even bothered to steer me straight.” He swiped at his eyes, the strain in his face softening as one edge of his mouth tipped. “Used to bribe me to go to church with him—in exchange for shooting baskets or taking me out to eat, and other cool stuff he knew I’d wanted—so I did.” His eyes connected with Shannon’s. “I still wasn’t too keen on God, mind you, but I couldn’t deny there was a strength in Gus that drew me, a faith in him that gave me hope.” He reached across the table to take Shannon’s fingers in his, his touch tender. “Just like I see in you, Shan.”

The waitress returned, and Sam released Shannon’s hand to order for them both. When she left again, Shannon paused, absently twining the wrapper from her straw around her finger as she broached a question weighing on her mind. “This Gus Garavelli,” she said quietly, “is he still in your life?”

Sam grunted, ripping the paper from his own straw. He crumpled and hurled it at the smiling-pig mold on top of the BBQ sauce caddy. “Nope. Died of a heart attack during my first year of college, which pretty much crushed me, leaving me alone all over again.” He lifted his DP in a mock toast, his smile as plastic as the pig’s. “So, yes, in honor of a stellar human being named Gus, I do retain a faith in God, Angel Eyes, but our relationship is rocky at best.”

“Yes, but that’s the beauty of faith,” she said as she set her drink aside. “God’s precepts work even when our relationship with Him doesn’t.”

His gaze narrowed as he studied her with another scowl, grabbing the menu to peruse it again like a barrier against the conversation. “And what’s
that
supposed to mean?”

“It means if you get back with Jazz and honor God by staying celibate till marriage, He will bless you.”

The menu dropped to the table, Sam’s eyes as wide as the paper coasters beneath their drinks. “Are you on drugs? You want me to commit to Jazz, put a ring on her finger, and
not
make love to her till we say ‘I do’?” Thrusting the menu aside, he issued a grunt. “Impossible.”

“For you on your own, maybe, but not with God’s help.”

His smile went flat as he slanted back with a tight fold of arms, assessing her through sullen eyes. “No. I value your advice, Shannon, you know that, but that is just flat-out crazy and wouldn’t work at all, so you may as well forget it.”

Watching him over the rim of her glass, she took a leisurely sip. “Okay,” she said with a nonchalant air, her smile as sweet as the drink in her hand, “but it sure worked for Jack.”

Sam blinked, lips parting as awareness eased the hard line of his jaw. “It did, didn’t it?” he whispered, mouth curving in a slow smile as the truth dawned in his eyes. “I remember now because Jazz and I remained friends after we broke up, so I was her sounding board when she started dating your brother.” A grin inched across his handsome face. “Man, how he ticked her off with his strict moral code, driving her up the bloomin’ wall. But there was a part of her that liked it too, she said. Kind of like it gave Jack this strength of character that ramped up her respect and attraction. Jack was a challenge, and she was determined to take him down, only he took her down first when she fell head over heels.” He shook his head. “Now I wonder if his playing hard to get just made her want him all the more …”

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