Gwenyth blew out a breath that sent a stray curl coasting over her shoulder. It seemed to her that where Sam Tremont was concerned, easy was her middle name. Not that she was ready to admit that to him yet. Definitely not.
Gwenyth absently turned her gaze to the buttresses of the historical hotel turned private university that loomed into view. It occurred to her that leaving for California tomorrow was the best thing that could happen in her relationship with Sam. Being in LA would give her time away from his overwhelming presence, time to think and sort everything out.
She ignored the nagging voice that told Gwenyth her destiny had already been carved out long ago—years ago—before she’d ever had a choice.
* * * * *
Sam glanced at his Rolex and wondered to himself for the fifth time in ten minutes just what in the hell was keeping Cupcake. Sweet Jesus, he was standing here in the middle of an elegant ballroom, local politicians and media abounding, yet he was still as hard as he’d been last night at the mere thought of seeing her. When a man had ten inches of erect manhood to give to his woman, the sight could become an embarrassing one.
Sam realized that Gwenyth hadn’t quite come to terms with their relationship yet, but that was okay. He’d agreed this afternoon to let her spend her time in LA sorting through her emotions and figuring out what it was she was wanting. Sam had no trouble at all agreeing to that since he’d be buried deep inside of her pussy every moment she wasn’t busy snapping pictures. Of course, he’d neglected to tell Cupcake that he was her lead model. She’d be angry as a hornet when she found out, no doubt, so Sam had decided to let her find out when they got to LA…where there were witnesses.
Sam was more than prepared for Gwenyth’s anger. He knew she’d be mad, maybe even irate. But that was okay. He’d let her have her say, rage at him all she cared to, then he’d nudge her onto the nearest bed and thrust inside of her, putting him back where he belonged. They could work out Gwenyth’s anger together, between the sheets. As a couple. The way all problems should be worked out. The thought brought a smile to his lips.
“Why are you so happy?”
Startled, Sam’s head shot up. He grinned and patted Harry on the back. “The real question, Bro, is why aren’t you happy? Looks like this dinner is going to be a complete success.”
Harry sighed. He took a moment to greet two enthusiastic constituents before turning back to Sam. “Granddad will be the death of me,” he admitted dejectedly.
Sam chuckled. “Aw come on, Willy’s not all that bad.”
Harry straightened to his full six feet and one inch. He snorted incredulously. “He just told the mayor he knew where he could buy a more realistic looking hairpiece from.”
Sam’s chuckle transformed into an all-out guffaw. “No kiddin’?” At Harry’s worried look, he patted him on the back again. “Look buddy, Brian and I will smooth things over in that corner. Don’t worry about it.”
Harry shook his head, not understanding. “Brian?”
“Brian Goodman. Pitcher for the New England Crusaders.”
Harry’s eyes lit up like a little boy who’d just been handed a Christmas present he could open up early. “TheBrian Goodman? He’s here?”
Sam frowned. “You didn’t get all that fired up and excited to see me again, Bro.”
Harry waved his hand impatiently. “You’re family.”
Family. God, that sure enough sounded good to Sam’s ears. Only he was certain he was thinking in different terms than Harry was. Sam’s thoughts as of late had been straying toward the possibility of making himself a true member of the Jones family, not just an honorary one. As much as he had run from the idea of marrying a second time in the past, the thought wasn’t at all scary where Gwen was concerned. Of course, those other women he’d dated just hadn’t been his Cupcake.
Sam had to wonder what Gwenyth would think about marrying when they’d only been reunited for less than a week. Something told him she’d never go for it. Gwen would have to go off to somewhere and “think about it”…probably until they were too old to enjoy the benefits of getting shackled.
“I can’t believe it,” Harry enthused, breaking Sam from his thoughts, “TheBrian Goodman.Here. Atmycampaign dinner.” He shook his head. “Too much good fortune to believe.”
Sam frowned, his Southern lilt carrying a hint of annoyance. “Alright already. He’s not that great. In fact, I’m beginnin’ to like him less and less.”
“What did I do now?”
Sam turned on his heel, then grinned at his buddy Brian. Brian Goodman was probably the only other person on planet earth Sam trusted as much as he did the members of the Jones family. They’d been close friends for five years now, meeting each other when Bri had been traded to the Crusaders.
They’d had a lot of good times together, the two of them. Brian was the only guy on the team who got chased as relentlessly by the ladies as Sam did, so they understood each other at many levels. Of course, at six-foot-two and muscled as all hell to boot, the blonde ballplayer was a good lookin’ son of a gun, Sam supposed. Hell, he didn’t know. Other guys didn’t really notice shit like that. “What didn’t you do, is usually the better question when your name’s involved, Bri.”
Brian winked. He extended his hand to Harry and shook it. “Brian Goodman. It’s nice to meet you at last. I’ve heard a lot about you from Sammy.”
“Harry Jones. And the feeling is mutual. Sam’s told me a lot about you as well.” Harry grinned, immediately liking the pitcher on the spot. “You have to stay long enough to meet my sister.” He glanced over Brian’s shoulder and smiled. “She’s the one in the black dress, walking this way now.”
Sam’s ears perked up. It annoyed him to think he reacted to Gwenyth’s arrival as a dog would after being separated from its master all day. The woman was driving him crazy. Just call him Fido and toss him a bone. And when he spotted Gwenyth—lord have mercy—he realized he had more in common with Fido than he first thought. His mouth all but salivated at the picture she made.
Her dress was long, black, and slinky—the kind of dress men fantasize about taking a woman out of. As she strolled toward them, smiling and waving at people en route, he noticed the slit up the right side that opened when she moved, showing off a sexily tanned leg. The front of the dress was cut low, causing Gwenyth’s cleavage to spill out provocatively without looking trashy. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, falling in the sexiest, strawberry-scented ringlets Sam’s eyes had ever beheld. He was hard as a rock.
Brian whistled through his teeth. “That’syour sister? Damn! Introduce me!”
