Emerald
I start to leave the room, but Sam stops me by taking my hand. “Do I really get to stay?”
I nod. “I’ll see you down the hall when you’re done.”
He nods, and there’s no mistaking the smoldering look he gives me. I resist the urge to rush back to my room, walking gracefully instead. And I take my time in the bathroom, too, showering, brushing my teeth and hair, getting ready for a night like no other.
My life has taken so many twists and turns these past few weeks, it’s almost unbelievable. But I handled it. And even though I was afraid throughout much of it, I stuck it out and came out okay. I’m a little bruised, but not broken. And whatever hurt I felt is going to fade out under the bright light of Sam’s and Sadie’s kindness and love. No matter how long this thing between us lasts, I will not regret taking this chance on them, because they are worth it and so am I.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
I’m waiting naked in bed when Sam arrives. I was going to wear my silk nightie but then decided we might as well cut to the chase. And I’m so glad I did, because I can see how hard he already is through his jeans. There’s doubt in his eyes, though, and maybe fear, too. Maybe he’s wondering about our family meeting and what was said.
“Come in here,” I say, holding out my hands.
He whips off his shirt and unzips his pants and drops them on the floor at the side of the bed. He’s not wearing underwear tonight. His raging hard-on bounces out.
“Condom,” I say, pointing at my nightstand.
He puts one on in record time and climbs into the bed, throwing the covers off onto the floor.
“What if I get cold?” I ask as he lowers himself down to me.
“I’ll keep you warm,” he says, pressing his lips to mine. His hand drags down my ribs to my waist and thigh. His work-roughened palm slides over the top of my thigh and moves to the space between my legs, his fingers delving into the warm, wet folds and stroking. It doesn’t take long for me to be pulsating with need.
“Sam, I’m going to come if you keep doing that.”
“Not without me, you’re not,” he says, falling onto his back. “Come over here, girl.”
He wants me to get on top. We haven’t done that yet, but I’m game. I take a moment to enjoy the view of his amazing body and hard length waiting to please me. “You are so gorgeous,” I say, rolling up onto my side.
He takes my hand and kisses my fingers. “Beautiful girl. You turn me on so much.”
“I do?” I know this is true, but I like to hear him say it anyway.
“Yes, you do. Now get up on here, would you? You’re torturing me lying there like that.”
Grinning from ear to ear, I get up on my knees and then straddle him. Looking down at him, I’m amazed at the fact that he’s here, that we’re here together and that fate saw fit to put him in my life. So many things had to line up just right for that to happen. The tour in Japan . . . our mothers going . . . Amber needing me at her place . . . Madison’s addiction driving Sam to New York early . . . I have a lot of people to thank for this joy I’m about to receive.
“Nickel for your thoughts,” he says as I position myself to take him inside me.
“I was just thinking how glad and lucky I am to have you in my life.” There’s a tinge of sadness to my words as I silently acknowledge that this could all be temporary.
As he lifts his hips and pushes himself into me, I groan. It feels too damn good, transporting me to another place . . . a secret world full of silky, sexy darkness. I won’t think about him leaving . . . not right now anyway. This moment is too good to spoil with thoughts of reality.
“Want to know what I’m thinking right now?” he whispers.
Our bodies are fully joined, the length of him buried inside me. I move my hips, bringing myself extra pleasure. I look down at his beautiful face and see a vulnerability there.
“Yes,” I say, sitting up so I can bring him in and out. I move up and down, setting our pace.
He rests his hands on my hips, closing his eyes as he grits his teeth in concentration.
“Well . . . ?” I ask, losing my breath a little. “Are you going to tell me?”
“Can’t . . . losing my mind . . . ,” he grunts.
I can tell by the way he’s clenching his jaw that he’s about to go. His control is slipping fast. I lean down and push faster. “I’m going to make you come, aren’t I?”
His eyes fly open and he growls, two seconds before he surprises the crud out of me by flipping me over and coming down over me.
“No, babe. I’m going to make you come.” He plunges into me, reaching around and grabbing my thigh, pulling it up. He somehow knows exactly where to touch me and how to move, and in just three strokes, I’m calling out his name.
“Sam! Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes,” he growls, pushing faster and faster. “Come, babe. Come for me.”
I hang on to him for dear life as that sexy darkness swallows me whole and sends me swirling around inside my own head. The pulsing orgasm takes over my whole body, making me buck and cry out, seeking release from its grip.
Sam slams into me, starting the cycle of sensation all over again for me as he finds his release. I cry out as the last spasms shake my entire being to the core. He falls on top of me, exhausted and breathing like he’s about to die from overexertion.
After I’m finally able to breathe properly again, I tap him on the shoulder. “I believe I paid a nickel for someone’s thoughts.”
He lifts himself up onto his elbows and looks at my face, finally stopping his gaze on my eyes. “You sure you want to know what I’m thinking?” He gently moves wet hair from my sweaty forehead.
I nod. “Always.” A special thrill runs through me at the idea that he’s about to share his innermost thoughts with me. I pray it’s something that will make me smile and not cry.
He takes a breath. “I was just thinking . . . when I saw you standing there in the hallway . . . that I love you. That I think you’re amazing. That I hope I get to hang out with you for a lot longer than two weeks.”
My heart nearly stops at the L-word and his declaration of desire for a shared future. “You love me?”
“Yeah. I do. Lame, huh?”
I laugh. “How is that lame?”
He looks down at my chest, maybe embarrassed to meet my gaze. “We just met. I sound desperate.”
I pick his face up by his hairy chin. “Hey. If you’re desperate, what does that make me?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, a small smile moving his beard.
“I pretty much loved you a week ago.” I realize it’s true as I say it. Love? Of course it’s love that makes me want to see him first thing every morning and right before my eyes fall shut at night. It’s love that makes me want to build a future with him in it. It’s love that helped me get over my fear and take charge of my independence. I’m stronger with Sam in my life, but I’m also happier. He gets me, and that’s saying a lot. Most people don’t.
He laughs. “What happened a week ago to cause you to suffer this madness?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Seeing you with Sadie is some pretty potent magic, I think.”
He nods. “I love that kid.”
“I do too. She’s really something special.”
He kisses me, slow and soft this time, making my heart go pitter-patter.
“What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?” he asks, rolling over onto his back. “What do you want to happen?”
“I have no idea. I’m not going to try to guess or force anything. My life has been utterly nuts since I met you, and I don’t expect it to be any different for as long as you’re in it.”
“You do realize you’re the only woman in the entire world who doesn’t want to plan every moment of her future, right?”
I smile and give him a sweet kiss. “As long as you and Sadie are there with me, I’m sure everything will work out just fine.”
“Oh, shit,” he says, his good mood
disappearing in an instant as he looks down at his waist.
“What’s wrong?” I frown at his sudden change in demeanor.
He holds up the condom. It’s in two parts. “It ripped.”
My heart literally stops beating.
“What’s the date on these things?” he asks, sitting up to grab the box.
“I don’t know.” Now that I think about it, though, they are pretty old.
He reads something on the packaging. “They expired over a year ago.”
I try to smile through my anxiety. “Oops.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Sam and I are coming back from the meditation meadow together, hand in hand, knowing that Sadie will be waking from her nap soon and will want to see us. The last three weeks have been full of music, painting, babysitting, laughing, eating big meals, and getting to know not just each other but the members of Red Hot. After they realized how well they jam together when they’re out here on the farm, away from all the hectic hustle and bustle of the city, they decided to stay on for a while. I thought I would hate the idea, but I don’t. Not at all, really.
It’s been easier since Darrell left. The two days he spent here had us all riding an emotional roller coaster that only came to an end when he finally acknowledged that some mistakes from the past cannot be totally forgiven . . . at least not by Red. I don’t know really how our mothers feel about it—their moods rise and fall on a daily basis as memories come and go—but Rose, Amber, and I aren’t ready to write Darrell off. There will be another time in the future for us to talk about what happened in the past and what might happen moving forward, but none of us is in a rush to get there. Darrell is the one band member who knew we existed all along and yet made a conscious decision to be absent. That’s not something we’re taking lightly.
Since the band settled in, things have been . . . incredible. Exhausting. Unforgettable. I can now understand how our mothers got so wrapped up in them before. Even at their age, the men of Red Hot are magnetic and compelling, easily sweeping us into their orbits. It makes sense that Sam fits in so well with their group. Although not a member of the band, he’s so much like them. To me, anyway. I couldn’t resist him if I tried . . . not that I’m trying.
Sam has a contract with Red Hot now, working for them as an independent songwriter, because of course he’s a brilliant musician, and with him on board, Red Hot is going to be at the top of the charts again. It was an easy decision for all of them, and now he no longer has to worry about how he’s going to support his child.
As Sam and I walk along, hand in hand, he breaks the silence we’ve been sharing for the last hour. “So . . . I know you took that test this morning. I don’t want to push you, but it’s kind of driving me nuts wondering what the result was.”
I stop, forcing him to draw up and face me. “Why didn’t you say something, silly? I didn’t mean to torture you by keeping it a secret.” Being in the meditation meadow kind of suggests a person prefers silence, but it’s not a hard-and-fast rule or anything. He went there to clear his head and I went there to find him. I want to tell him what happened just an hour ago. The news is burning me up inside. I just don’t know how he’s going to take it. It’s making me nauseated to imagine him being upset.
“I didn’t want to harsh your vibe or whatever,” he says.
I pull him into a hug. “You could never do that. You are my haven from the craziness.” I breathe in his scent, knowing I’ll never tire of it for as long as I live. We are connected now, forever. The test I took this morning proves it.
He kisses the top of my head. “So are you going to tell me, or are you going to keep me in suspense?”
I want to tell him. I want to shout it from the rooftops and tell the world, but something is stopping me. I think it’s my mothers. Over two decades ago they made a rash decision that affected so many lives. We’re trying not to regret their choices as a family, but sometimes it’s hard. I don’t want to repeat their mistakes. I don’t want to hurt the people I love. I need to be absolutely sure I’m doing the right thing.
“I’m going to tell you.” I pull away, hanging on to his hands. “Are you ready to hear some big news?”
He grins. “Hell yeah.”
My stomach feels like it’s full of knots. “You know that condom that broke?”
“Yeah . . .” He grins harder.
“Well, apparently, it broke at exactly the wrong time of the month for me.” My face heats up with embarrassment. I pray he doesn’t think I somehow trapped him into this. Anyone could accidentally use an expired box of condoms, right?
He loses a bit of his smile. “What do you mean? Are you pregnant or not?”
I nod, worried about his response. He doesn’t look happy anymore. “I am.” I feel sick saying it. I hadn’t intended this to happen. I don’t want Sam to be with me just because of this.
He rolls his eyes heavenward. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” I try to pull back, but he hangs on to my fingers.
“Don’t go.” He draws me toward him, putting his arms around my waist. My hands linger at his hips. I don’t know what he’s going to say next, but my heart is pounding.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Please don’t think anything negative.”
“It’s kind of hard not to when your response is to swear.”
He reaches up and moves my hair away from my face. “You are so beautiful. Have I told you that lately?”
“Yes, but you’re not answering my question.”
“What was your question?” He stops messing with my hair and stares at me. I can’t read his expression.
Now I’m confused. “I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t have one. Why are you mad about this? Do you think I meant for it to happen?”
“I’m not mad.” He puts his hands on either side of my face. “Are you crazy? I’m thrilled.” His nostrils flare and his eyes turn red.
“You look like you’re about to go all Incredible Hulk on me or something.” I’ve never seen this look on Sam’s face.
His voice is gruff when he answers. “This is me about to fall apart, babe.”
“Me being pregnant is making you fall apart? That can’t be good.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and then holds me against him. “I’m such an idiot. I’m not expressing myself well at all.” He sighs over my shoulder. “I could write you a song that would tell you exactly how I’m feeling, but I can’t say the words in a normal conversation. What the hell is wrong with me?”
I pat him on the back, finally understanding a little of what he’s experiencing. “It’s a lot to take in.”
He pulls back and searches my eyes. “What does it mean for us, though?”
I shrug, afraid to be the one to say what needs to be said but knowing it has to happen. I’m going to be a mom now; I no longer can afford the luxury of letting fear stop me from being the bravest person I can be. “Well, I suppose you have a choice. You can either stick around and help me raise this child, or you can choose not to do that.” I try not to let the ache in my throat become tears in my eyes.
He looks anguished. “How could you think I wouldn’t want to participate in this adventure with you? This miracle?”
His clarified response is a glimmer of hope. “I don’t want you to feel forced. I don’t want this to ruin what we’ve started.”
He rubs my upper arms, sounding more confident by the second. “It can’t do that. It’s only going to make it better. We’re good for each other, Em. We make each other better. Stronger. More confident and comfortable. I’ve looked for that feeling all my life, and I finally found it with you. I’d be a complete fool to let that go or walk away from it.”
“Really? You really think that?” My heart soars. This pregnancy isn’t going to toll the death knell of our relationship; it’s a new beginning! I had no idea that I could mean this to another human being. It makes me feel as though I’m reaching a potential I didn’t even know I was capable of attaining. It gi
ves me a confidence I’ve never felt with anyone before, not even my sisters. This is some crazy magic Sam is working on me.
He nods. “I do. I really do.” He leans forward and kisses me very gently on the lips, his beard tickling me. “You are so courageous and loving and smart. How did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”
I hug him to me fiercely, so glad I took a chance on his man. “We’re both lucky.”
He chuckles. “I’m not sure if you’re exactly lucky, but you’re stuck with me now.” He puts his lips right up to my ear and whispers, “We made a baby together.”
I giggle. “Stop, you’re giving me goose bumps.”
He kisses me on the neck and then moves us in the direction of the house again. We’re walking arm in arm, our sides practically glued together . . . me a pregnant girl and him the father of my baby. I thought my sister was crazy moving in with a man she just met, but look at me now; I’m even crazier than she is. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.
“I don’t want you to worry about me working far away,” he says as we reach the front of the house.
I pause to hear the rest of what he has to say. “What do you mean?” I pray he means what I think he does. Our living apart was the big wrench in the works of our relationship. I cannot live in New York City. I know it will slowly eat away at the core of who I am to be surrounded by all that noise, all those people, and a complete lack of what I enjoy here on the farm. But he has to work with the band, and their permanent home is there.
He faces me. “I’ve already thought it all through. I was going to talk to you about it after meditating. I can work here with the band as long as they’ll stay, and then I’ll work from here alone. I can send them my work as MP3 files and take occasional trips down there if they need me to be there in person.”
I tremble with happiness at the idea that he had already worked this out in his mind, before he knew I was pregnant. “Are you sure you want to do that?”