“I guess we’re not used to this,” she said softly as someone poured wine for them. “Maya said that she’d sorted our menu, so we don’t even have to think about it. I’ve a feeling she’s ordered anything that might be an aphrodisiac.”
“Not that I need it,” Finn said, his voice husky. “God, Sam, you look good enough to eat.”
“Finn!” Sam gasped. Her cheeks roared with heat, butshe smiled. She’d never stop wanting Finn Bradley saying things like that to her.
An antipasto board appeared, followed by a course of ravioli, then steak. Sam sipped her wine. She barely noticed Maya taking photos, nor the waiter as he’d smoothly placed course after course in front of her. They hadn’t stopped smiling and talking since they’d sat down. This was what she’d been missing in every other relationship she’d had. She leaned forward and laced her fingers through Finn’s, loving how he gently squeezed her hand as she did. He’d opened his top buttons, and his strong, tanned neck was making her wish they were back in his hotel suite. The arrival of dessert—three golden bomboloni, piled high and dusted with sugar, with a little pot of warm Nutella on the side—made Sam moan out loud.
“It’s like an ItalianSamwich,” Finn said, licking chocolate from his fingers in a way that made Sam smile. “You know who’d destroy this plate in five seconds flat?”
“Leo.” Sam nodded. “And he’d convince us that hazelnuts are a protein post-training fuel.”
Finn burst out laughing. “He’s not wrong, though, is he?”
Sam laughed. “No, he’s not.” She leaned forward. “He texted me on my way over—he’s thinking of going back out there—skiing again.”
Finn stopped laughing, he sat back in his seat, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Sam said, her eyes stinging with tears.
“Then that’s worth celebrating.” Finn raised his glass. “To second chances. To comebacks. And to Leo finding his way back to what he loves.”
Maya’s deep sigh from nearby reminded Sam that she was here, taking shot after shot of her and Finn. She pulled a chair up to their table and tapped her phone.
“Okay, you two lovebirds, I’m out of here. You two aresickeninglyphotogenic and I can’t stomach it anymore.” She grinned and pinched the last piece of bomboloni from Finn’s plate. “God, this is delicious.” She murmured through sugar-dusted lips. “Anyway, like I said, I’m gone. If you need me Sam, I’ll be in my hotel room—seeing as you’ve practically moved out—editing and posting these damn beautiful and somehowhotphotos of you guys.
“Thanks, Maya,” Sam said. “But what about dinner? You’ve had nothing.”
“No worries, girl.” Maya stood up. She fluttered her eyelashes as a tall, dark, and impossibly handsome man arrived with a small bag. She laid a hand on the waiter’s arm, “Gio has been taking the best care of me all night, he’s spoiling me—but I’ll make sure to leave him a great review.” She winked, picked up her bag, and sashayed from the restaurant leaving heads turning as she went.
A rumble of male laughter caught Sam’s attention.
Across the room, at a table opposite theirs, Sam glanced her father. He was seated with a number of other coaches and looked like he was out of place, for once. His usual commanding presence seemed awkward, and he wasn’t laughing along with the others at his table as loudly as he used to. Gritting her jaw, she turned back to Finn, her fingers tightening around her wine glass.
Finn noticed her mood shift. He took a swift look over his shoulder and turned back to Sam, his brow furrowed.
“You okay?”
Sam took a long breath. “Yeah, don’t worry. It’s fine.” She smiled suddenly, remembering theOhanasticker on her board. “Hey, I meant to thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Finn smiled. “For what?”
“MyOhanasticker.” Sam sipped her wine, her eyes warming as she remembered the small, yet meaningful detail.
Finn’s brow furrowed deeper. “Sam?”
“You fixed it—it was about to come off,” Sam said, a playful smile on her lips. “And I was so worried I’d lose it, because then I would actually lose it. How did you find the time to glue it on? And so smoothly.”
“It wasn’t me.” Finn reached for her hand, his expression softening.
Sam stared at him. “What?”
“I didn’t do it.” Finn nodded toward Jake. “Your dad did.”
Sam blinked. Her heart did a strange flip. Her gaze flew between Finn and her dad across the room. Her dad had glued her sticker? He’d known how much it meant to her? He’d never said anything nice about that sticker—he’d only ever sneered at it, saying it didn’t belong on a snowboard—and now …
“My dad?” she murmured. The sudden warmth she felt made her pulse race. “I don’t know what to say.”
She pushed her chair back. Finn jumping to his feet as she did.
