When he comes, it’s with a shout, spilling deep inside me as he buries his face in my neck.
I sigh contentedly and lift a hand to place it on the back of his neck.
His body stiffens, and he pulls back slightly to look at me. For a second, I doubt if I should’ve touched him like that, but his expression is soft, and he looks so happy. He gives me a little smile and kisses me gently.
And it feels like a piece of my life I didn’t even realize was missing slots into place.
Eleven
Dalton
A part of me wants to take Sam to the ER to make sure he’s okay after what happened in the lake, but he cuts me a look the minute I suggest it. Mom hovers over him and Kelly so much that I can tell Sam starts feeling suffocated, so I take him out for dinner instead of staying home.
When we’re done, we go out walking around the town square, and I love watching Sam take everything in. Maybe I’m biased because I grew up here, but I think Huntsville has the best Christmas displays.
“It’s all so beautiful,” Sam says, staring up at the huge Christmas tree in the middle of the square. “Do you come here every year?”
“Yeah. Even in college. I was worried that if I skipped the first couple years, I might not go back at all.”
“Because of your brother?” he asks softly.
I probably shouldn’t be surprised he guessed that. I’m not sure if he’s attuned to a lot of people or just me, but I like it. “Yeah. When Colt died . . . I didn’t think I’d ever breathe again. I’ve always been close with my family, but I knew I could become estranged from them very quickly if I wanted to. And a part of me did. Things between me and my dad haven’t been the same since Colt’s accident.”
Sam shifts closer to me, allowing my arm to brush his as we walk. “Why would that have driven a wedge between you guys?”
“Because I had snuck out. I was at a party I shouldn’t have been at, and I called Colt to come pick me up. A drunk driver hit him head-on going forty miles over the speed limit.”
“Oh God.” Sam slides his hand into mine and squeezes tightly. “I’m sorry. That’s awful.”
“I just wish I could go back and do it over again, you know? I wouldn’t have gone out or called Colt. If I had just listened, he would be here today.”
“I know it probably doesn’t matter to you, but itwasan accident, Dalton. You didn’t kill him. Someone else is responsible for that.”
Pain tightens around my chest like a band. Logically, I know that. I’ve told myself that a hundred times. But I can’t seem to make myself believe it.
Sam seems to understand, and he doesn’t push it. He simply walks beside me in silence for a while, his hand still wrapped around my own. He doesn’t speak until we reach the gazebo lit up with white lights. Holiday music plays softly from a speaker in the ceiling.
“Come on,” Sam says softly. He leads me up the stairs and into the center of the gazebo before pulling me close.
I lower my free hand to his waist when he puts his on my shoulder. I’m not big into dancing, but I like this with Sam. I like having him so close to me, smelling his scent while he leans into me.
I already want to be deep inside him again, feeling his body clenching tight around my cock.
“Thank you,” Sam says quietly. “For everything.”
“I’m glad you’ve had a good time here.”
He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, but it doesn’t disrupt our slow dance. “Thank you for what you did at the club, for stopping that guy. I’d gotten so used to the way Vinnie talked, I forgot that guys like him aren’t in the right.”
Just remembering that makes my veins boil with anger. “He was an animal. I don’t think I told you, but it was just an initial business meeting. I didn’t know him.”
Sam shrugs. “Even if you did, it’s not like you control how a person acts. We do business with all kinds of people we don’t like.”
He’s right, but there’s no way in hell I’d ever do business with Bryce or anyone like him. Arnie had told me he had no idea Bryce was like that, but I’m not a hundred percent certain I believed him. Arnie has always walked a line I didn’t care for, but he’s Colt’s best friend.
“Hey.” Sam guides my attention back to him. “I mean it. This has been really nice. I know you’re doing it because you feel guilty, but I’ve had a good time this last week.”
“It’s not just out of guilt.” What I really want to tell him is that I’ve had a good time this week too. It might be the first time I’ve been truly happy since Colt passed away. But that feels too vulnerable to speak aloud, especially when he’ll be leaving me in a couple days. So I just say the other truthful part. “You deserve it.”
