Love Everlasting (Isle of Hope series Book 2) (15 page)

“No wondering about it, Sam, because it sure didn’t hurt,” Shannon said with a gentle smile. “And he wasn’t ‘playing hard to get.’ He was committed to a moral tenet established by God, even though he was angry at Him. A moral tenet, I might add, that not only kept him from marrying the wrong woman, but gave him the desire of his heart in Lacey, the girl he’d been in love with since high school.”

He sent her a shuttered look, skepticism tingeing his tone. “And you really believe that all happened because he followed some tenets?”

  Her chin rose in a rare show of pluck. “Not ‘
some
tenets,’” she said with a firm set of her jaw, “God’s tenets. And, yes, I absolutely believe that, especially after Jack’s faith was restored. Because, Dr. Love, faith and obedience in applying God’s precepts—are the epoxy glue that strengthens relationships. A two-step bonding, if you will.”

“Okay, let me get this straight.” He leaned in, forearms on the table and that resolute look in his eyes. “You’re saying if I apply this so-called ‘tenet’ with Jazz, it will not only strengthen our relationship, but it will help me win her back once and for all?”

She angled in, too, nose-to-nose with a man she knew thrived on a challenge. “Yes, it will definitely strengthen your relationship and very possibly win her back.”

“Possibly?” He slugged back a tall swig of his drink, brows bunched over the rim.

“If Jazz is the woman God has for you, then yes, I believe this could very well win her back. But if she’s not?” She lifted her shoulders in a definitive shrug. “Then this will probably chase her away, preventing you from marrying the wrong woman in the first place, like it did for my brother.”

Sam’s lips gummed into a thin line. “Don’t worry, Teach, she’s the one,” he said with another healthy swig of his DP. “The woman’s been under my skin since the first moment I saw her, and me under hers, so I’ll do whatever it takes to close the deal.”

“Whatever it takes, huh?” Shannon grinned, hoping to close a ‘deal’ of her own. She lifted her glass in a toast. “Even faith?”

He stared for several seconds, his jaw shifting almost imperceptibly before he clinked his glass to hers. “Even faith,” he said in a near growl, glass tipped straight up as he downed the rest of his drink.

“Good. Because I have a feeling that’s what it’s going to take, Dr. Love. And the fringe benefits? Not only do you completely solidify Jazz’s opinion of you as a man of strength and character, but you convince her it’s
her
you want and not just her body. Effectively reaffirming the change she’s seen in you as a man she could marry. And all because of a ‘so-called’ tenet where you honor God’s precepts.”

Gouging fingers through his hair, Sam sagged back in the booth, his gaze veering off into a cold stare as if he just realized what he was about to give up. “Gosh, Shan, I don’t know if I have the strength to do that—
or
the faith.”

“Nope, but you’re in luck, big boy, because I know just the place you can get it.”

Sam paused, lids narrowing to slits. “Why do I think I’m not going to like this?” he bit out, those beautiful coffee-colored eyes deepening all the way to dark roast.

She gave him a secret smile, chapter twenty-two of
Love Everlasting
already sketched out in her mind. The waitress delivered two platters of ribs with all the trimmings, one for her and one for Sam, and her stomach rumbled on cue. “Thank you,” she said with an appreciative smile, suddenly ravenous—both for ribs and for Sam to scratch the surface of a faith that could set him free. “Oh, and ma’am …” Shannon offered the waitress a shy smile. “Would it be possible to get a few more wet naps?” she asked meekly, chewing at the edge of her lip with a penitent look. “I have a sneaking feeling I’m about to make a real big mess.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” Sam delivered a mock scowl, drilling Shannon with a gaze that only made her grin. He unfolded his napkin, his smile veering toward dry. “And something tells me it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

Chapter Twenty

“You sure it’s not too short?” Sam peered into his visor mirror after he’d parked the Vette near the Mansion on Forsyth Park, brows scrunching over the scalping he’d gotten at the barber. His mouth went flat. On the very day he planned to set the hook with Jazz at the Memorial Awards Banquet. He ruffled the close-cropped curls on top of his head, attempting to rumple them to the disheveled look he preferred. “Closest thing to a military buzz I’ve ever seen,” he said with a heavy exhale, flipping the mirror back down. He offered Shannon an off-kilter smile. “Maybe I should tell Jazz I enlisted, so she’ll beg me to stay.”

Shannon calmed him with a smile, taking the edge off his nerves better than the occasional Xanax and after-hours beers he’d opted for after Jazz dumped him. She reached to tousle his hair, her touch melting his stress. “I like it,” she said with an approving eye. “More professional physician, less shaggy playboy.” She sat back in her seat, an angel in pale chiffon. “Very mature, especially in that Armani suit.” Her mouth squirmed with a smile. “And far less dangerous.”

He grinned. “I kind of miss ‘dangerous,’ but ‘mature’ is a definite plus since juvenile behavior is my hallmark, right?”

“Only on the surface,” she said with a look of affection that warmed him from the inside out. She tapped a finger to her heart. “In here, you’re a changed man, Dr. Cunningham.”

His grin faded to soft. “Only because of you, Angel Eyes.” Emotion thickened the walls of his throat, reminding him how lucky he was to have Shannon as a friend. Soft, kind, supportive, beautiful, and brilliant. He took in the wispy strays of strawberry gold from an elegant and graceful twisty bun, noted the tenderness in eyes soft with affection, and was certain he’d never met a more angelic being. Her creamy complexion glowed in the dim lighting of the streetlamp, and he could no more stop his gaze from trailing down the modest bodice of her dusky pink dress than he could stop the slow thud of his heart. To him, she was purity personified, creating an unsettling tug-of-war between cherishing her as a friend and wanting her as a woman. “Have I told you yet how mind-blowingly beautiful you look tonight, Teach?”

A soft blush settled in those petal-soft cheeks. “At least five times,” she said with an adorable grimace, “but you haven’t convinced me yet, so I’d save those compliments for when they count—with Jasmine.”

“Well, if I can’t convince you, there’ll be plenty of guys gawking inside who will, kiddo, so get ready.” He got out of the car and strode around to open Shannon’s door, surprised as always at how petite she was, even in heels. Placing a protective palm to the small of her back, he guided her toward the elevator. “You should have let me drop you off at the door,” he groused, wishing he wasn’t so paranoid about valet parking. “You look too classy to be hoofing it to the hotel.”

Her soft chuckle sounded like music. “I don’t mind, truly. Especially since I’m wearing sensible heels instead of stilettos.”

His laughter filled the tiny elevator. “Thank you, God,” he said with a devious wink.

By the time he ushered her into the lavish Viennese Ballroom of the luxurious Mansion on Forsythe Park Hotel, he was keyed to the max again. The thought of how close he was to making Jazz his pumped equal mixtures of adrenalin and hope through his veins. Because he was close—he could feel it. And he could see it in Jazz’s eyes every time he met her for coffee or the occasional friendly dinner to discuss her romantic woes with the intern. It had been months in the making, but they had forged a bond Sam had never achieved in all the time he and Jazz had dated. A bond firmly anchored by his initial declaration that
she
was the woman he loved per Shannon’s suggestion, and the one he was willing to wait for, completely forsaking all others. A solid-gold suggestion to be sure, allowing Jazz the comfort of a close friendship with Sam minus the usual stirring of jealousy over other women he’d dated.

Until tonight.

A slow grin eased across his lips as he escorted Shannon through the sea of linen-clad tables, each resplendent with calla lily centerpieces and candlelight flickering over crystal and china. No, tonight was the night he hoped his friendship with Shannon might spark a little bit of the green-eyed monster in his green-eyed beauty. Oh, Jazz knew Shannon was his friend all right, but she had no idea how close they were, which is why he’d asked Shannon to go with him to the banquet tonight.

“You mean like a
date
?” Shannon had said, her voice little more than a squeak.

“
Not
a date,” he’d emphasized, “as friends. So you can lend me moral support when Jazz shows up with Bozo.”

“Oh, I see. And possibly making her jealous when you show up with another woman?” Those “angel eyes” had narrowed as she folded her arms, brows arched in a schoolmarm scold.

But he’d just given her that little-boy grin that always seemed to breach her defenses, and she’d caved as usual. “Admit it, Shan, it’s perfect. Jazz knows I’m committed to her because I’ve given up dating other women. But it can’t hurt to tweak a little jealousy when she sees me dancing and laughing with my new best friend, right?” He winked. “Especially my very beautiful, very sexy, very bright best friend.”

His words had gorged her cheeks with blood, and he hadn’t been able to resist a hug, tugging her close to deposit a kiss to her head. “You are so adorable, you know that? Hands-down the sweetest, most innocent woman I have ever met.”

Which
is why she was absolutely perfect as his date tonight. With an easy smile, he guided her to her family’s table at the back of the room, where Cat was wildly waving a napkin. Jazz had already lost one man to a “prude” of a friend when Jack broke it off to marry Lacey, so it only stood to reason that Shannon—Lacey’s equally spiritual sister-in-law—would threaten her too.

If Jazz cares at all.

And that was what Sam planned to find out tonight, hopefully hooking her back into a relationship with him once and for all.

“What took you so long, Ham?” Jack said when Sam seated Shannon at a table with Jack and Lacey, Jack’s mom and Lacey’s father, Cat and her date, and Jack’s cousin Matt and his wife, Nicki. “You almost missed the first course.”

Extending greetings to the ladies and handshakes to the men, Sam took the last seat between Shannon and Jack. Smile faltering, he bent close to Jack to explain his delay, voice low while Shannon chatted with her mother and Dr. Carmichael. “Sorry to run late, man, but I got a call on Sandi Borgens,” he said quietly, quickly taking a sip of his water.

Jack’s brows dipped. “I thought Sims was on call this weekend, not you.” His voice dropped an octave, the thread of concern in his tone matching Sam’s. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, for now. But the little sweetheart had a relapse, so I wanted to check it out and talk to her parents.”

Jack cuffed Sam’s shoulder while Lacey chatted with Cat and her date, Chase Griffin. “You’re a good doc, Ham.”

Heat crawled up the back of Sam’s neck as waiters delivered their salads, and issuing his thanks to the staff, he deflected Jack’s praise with a cocky flash of teeth. “Yeah, well let’s hope it’s enough to kick your butt tonight, O’Bryen,” he quipped, referencing the “Rookie Pediatrician of the Year” award they were both up for.

Which
wasn’t the obsession it had been before, Sam suddenly realized as he harpooned a cherry tomato, pretty much blowing him away. At one time winning meant everything, but since his countless sessions with Shannon, it now paled in comparison to winning at love. The deep-down, bottom-line kind of love that lasted a lifetime. “Love everlasting,” Shannon had called it, but she always tacked God onto it, which Sam wasn’t inclined to do.

At least, not yet.

“If Wilson doesn’t kick our butts first,” Jack responded with a stab at an olive, his casual attitude about winning as surprising as Sam’s. He and Jack had been killer competitors throughout residency, Sam’s drive to win meeting its match in the nose-to-the-grindstone resident who was now one of his best friends. Even
after
Jack stole Sam’s crown as Memorial’s heartthrob their final year.

Along with my girl.

But Sam wasn’t one to hold a grudge, especially against Jack, a good friend he flat-out liked and respected more than most men he knew. And like Shannon so wisely pointed out, it was Jack’s involvement with Jasmine after Sam blew it that forced Sam to finally see the error of his ways—never a bad thing.

Love seeketh not its own.

It does not behave itself unseemly.

Jack’s mom, Tess, leaned forward with a bright smile. “So, Sam, good luck tonight.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom,” Jack said in a mock wounded tone. “Appreciate the support.”

Affection glowed in Tess O’Bryen’s face. “Aw, sweetheart, you’ll always be a winner to me.”

A low chuckle rolled from the lips of Jack’s cousin, Matt Ball. “Yeah, the Mommy’s Boy Award.”

Jack grinned, finger-shooting a crumb at Matt from his half-eaten roll. “Better than being a loser, Ball.”

“You’re a winner to me, too, Jack,” Cat piped up, a bit of the devil gleaming in blue eyes so like Shannon’s and yet so different. “Except at shrimping and crabbing, of course, where I will always be queen.”

“‘Queen of Crabbing?’” Cat’s date said with a lift of sandy brows, a laid-back guy who turned out to be Jack’s pastor and best friend as well as a friend of the family. He chewed his salad in a leisurely manner, broad shoulders and hard-chiseled features more reminiscent of a bodyguard than a minister. He tweaked the back of Cat’s neck with a lazy smile. “Now there’s a crown that fits with all the crabbing you do at volleyball whenever you lose.”

Jack grinned, finger-shooting another crumb at Cat. “Or when I decimate her in fishing tournaments.”

“Or when it’s her week for dishes,” Shannon volunteered with a flutter of lashes, her love for her sister evident from the sparkle of tease in her eyes.

Cat’s jaw sagged in an open-mouthed smile, the spark of trouble in her gaze leaving no doubt as to which twin was the handful. “Even you, Shan?” she said with a true flair for drama, hand splayed to the bodice of a red dress that hinted at far more cleavage than Shannon ever displayed. “I’m wounded—you’re supposed to defend me to the bitter end.”

“I do, Catfish,” Shannon said with a sweet look of sincerity as only she could. “When Jack says you’re a big, fat pain, I tell him straight out that you are
not
fat.”

Sam laughed along with the others, soaking up the playful banter of family like a parched wasteland thirsting for rain. Jack was one of the luckiest guys around, in Sam’s opinion, with the incredible family and friends that he had. But at least Sam was gaining ground with Shannon as his friend.

And soon, God willing, Jasmine as his wife.

His mind stilled despite the chatter and clink of silverware.
God willing?
The random thought caught him by surprise, making him uneasy over the notion that Shannon might be making more headway than he thought. Shaking the feeling off, he zeroed in on Lacey’s dad, the notorious Dr. Snark of Memorial, of whom he and every other intern had steered clear. “Congratulations, Dr. Carmichael,” he said across the table, “for your nomination as Physician Philanthropist of the Year. That’s quite an honor, sir.”

Memorial’s chief cardiac surgeon and Shannon’s neighbor glanced up with a polite smile, his manner far more amenable than his cranky reputation warranted. But according to Jack, Ben Carmichael was a new man with a newfound faith, something that totally intrigued Sam in light of his own recent overhaul at Shannon’s hand.

Taking a drink of his water, Dr. Carmichael assessed Sam through hazel eyes that held a humility he hadn’t expected. “It is, Sam, and please, call me Ben. But I have to admit, for a man who seldom gave of himself philanthropically until the last year, the idea of an award makes me more than a little uncomfortable.”

“Oh, poo,” Tess O’Bryen said, giving her neighbor’s arm a quick squeeze. “Ben’s given of his time and services to the less fortunate for years now, Sam, culminating in an eight-month medical mission leave this last year.” She launched into a thorough rundown of Dr. Carmichael’s achievements that quickly caught the ear of Chase Griffin, whose questions prompted a conversation on the other side of the table.

Shannon leaned close to Sam. “Mom claims they’re just neighbors and friends,” she whispered, “but Cat and I think there’s more to it than that, thus the staunch defense.”

“Interesting.” Sam observed the body language between Tess and Ben, the idea of Jack’s mother involved with Lacey’s father intriguing, to say the least.

By the time dessert had been served and awards had been won—including Rookie Pediatrician to Wilson and Physician Philanthropist to Ben—Sam was like one of the family. Seldom had he felt so included and at peace as he did sitting next to Shannon, thriving on being part of the camaraderie they all shared. So much so, he’d almost forgotten about Jazz after the dancing began, enjoying a private moment with Shannon while everyone at their table was out on the dance floor.

“Uh-oh, target approaching at nine o’clock.” Shannon’s soft alert congealed the last of Sam’s English trifle in his throat, forcing it down along with a sudden knot of nerves.

Pretending not to notice Jasmine heading their way, Sam hooked a casual arm over Shannon’s shoulder, bending close to whisper in her ear. “Do you have any idea just how much I appreciate you, Angel Eyes?”