Sam, who laughed.
That’s the moment everything slipped into focus. He saw a quick glimpse of how things could work between them.
Sure, they had loads of shit to sort. He came with so much baggage he might as well rent out a storage unit. But here was this gorgeous woman. He could feel her capacity for caring without even having had a genuine conversation. Not yet. Another something to look forward to on the journey to Sam. Something he realized he wanted pretty damn bad.
“Same question for you, Princess Sam,” Betty Jane said.
Samantha stared at her puppet for a beat too long.
Tanner? He was a runner. He’d been a runaway as a kid, and he knew the signs. The little ones no one else would catch—how the pulse at her neck kicked up and her breaths got thready. More than that, there was just a sense that only a runner could catch. Sam was gonna bolt.
“I think we’re done,” he said, pulling the crochet Tanner from his hand. He glanced at Sam, hoping he was reassuring.
She nodded. He held his hand so she could hand over Princess Sam.
He had a foster dad—a man who had also been a runner. When he got the tingly sense that Tanner was ready to bolt, he led the way. That way Tanner could run, and he’d still not forget all the things he deserved.
That’s why Tanner stood and moved to the door of the hallway, opening it. Letting Sam pass, then catching up.
“That was the most unique first date I’ve ever been on,” Tanner said, keeping pace. She led the way, and they were going the same direction—headed to the front. He could hit the door if that’s what she wanted.
Sam tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “That wasn’t a date.”
“How do you figure?” he asked, keeping his tone light. Safe. Sarcastic Mach. “What about that did not scream first date?”
“We literally got thrown together,” she said. “And there was an audience.”
He winked. “Doesn’t mean it’s not a date.”
She glanced up at him from under her eyelashes, pulling her lips into a grin that hit him right in the gut. “Yes. Yes. It does.”
“What was your favorite part of our not-a-first date?” he asked, keeping a light skip to his step.
She stopped. Turned to face him. Her expression turned serious. “That somehow you said nothing and everything, all at once.”
“Yeah.” He glanced at his shoes, unable to keep the grin from his mouth. “Ditto.”
“Listen, I have to go deal with a few things.” She jerked her thumb toward the side hallway. “I’m pretty sure some of the guys are ditching my organized activities to start a real-money bingo game. They’re not allowed since, you know, gambling and all that.”
Of note, there was not a frown line at all between her eyebrows.
“Okay,” he said, grinning. Knowing this wasn’t the end, but it was a pause she needed.
He had shit to do, anyway. He didn’t mind waiting. Hell, he’d spent most of his life waiting. Until now, he hadn’t known what he’d been waiting for. Not until Sam. Now he had a hunch he understood where all the waiting and running had been leading toward.
She strode away with a purpose and confidence he seriously got off on.
Thing was, he watched her the whole time, and she never looked back. That sat funny in his chest.
* * *
Samantha
Damn.Damn. She’d liked it.
She wasn’t allowed to like it. Like him. Like being in front of all of those people.
So she left. Which was worse than staying.
