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River of Love Page 6


  “You know that old commercial, ‘Give it to Mikey; he’ll eat anything’?” he asked.

  “Life cereal?”

  “That was me. ‘Ask Sammy; he’ll do it. He’ll do anything.’”

  “That sounds like a convenient excuse.”

  “Convenient? Maybe. But hey, being that guy kept me from getting hurt.” The muscles in his jaw clenched.

  “It’s hard to imagine you ever being hurt. You’re too confident, too…”

  “Too what?” he challenged. “Too into not committing? Maybe. Have you ever heard of wabi-sabi?”

  “Wabi what?”

  “Wabi-sabi. It’s part of ancient Japanese culture. In its simplest form, it means finding beauty in imperfection and evolution—age spots, wrinkles, cracks, decay, cycles of growth. In a more general sense, it’s accepting and celebrating authenticity by acknowledging that nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect.”

  She had the undeniable sense of being let into a side of Sam he didn’t often share, and the depth of what he said was surprising. He seemed like a happy-go-lucky guy who didn’t think past the here and now.

  You might miss out on a really great story if you judge a book by its cover. She had a feeling Vivian wasn’t the only one who had misjudged him.

  “I learned about it from my high school art teacher at a time when I needed it most. Or rather, the minuscule part of it that I took the time to listen to and distorted into suiting my situation helped me let go of some things. Unfortunately, I didn’t take the time to learn about what it really meant until many years later. As a teenager, I took away only that ‘nothing lasts forever’.” He sighed, shook his head.

  “It made it easy for the ‘Ask Mikey’ guy to become a way of life for me,” he said somberly. “I’ve been that guy for so long, I never questioned it. People expected me to be the noncommitter, the fun guy. Don’t get me wrong. I liked being in that role. I love my life, and being that way probably saved me lots of heartache.”

  He stopped walking and sank down to the sand, bringing her down beside him. She wondered why he’d needed to believe something like that in high school.

  “The thing is, Faith, I never realized I was playing a part until recently.”

  He sounded so serious, so introspective, she found herself hoping this wasn’t a game to him. Faith curled her legs beside her. Her skirt hiked up, up, up, and Sam’s eyes followed, lingering on her thighs, making her insides fluttery and warm. When he lifted his eyes to hers, she saw darkness and sin layered with something even more enticing, something impossible to turn away from, though she had no idea how to define it.

  Breathe, breathe, breathe.

  Their thighs brushed, their faces mere inches apart. Her body cried out for his touch, her mouth craved his kiss, but her mind wouldn’t join that risky ride. Sam held her gaze, unflinching, unhurried, with no expectations, and she realized what was holding her captive. Honesty.

  Faith thrived on honesty. Craved it with a vengeance. She encountered so few men who could lay themselves bare for a woman, and here was Sam. He’d whipped out his phone to prove a point, and now he was opening up to her about who he was.

  “Why?”

  His brows knitted. “Why did it last so long?”

  “No, I sort of get that. But why until recently?”

  He shifted his eyes to the water, then back to her. The air between them pulsed, drawing them even closer together. She licked her lips, preparing for a kiss she was sure would come. Sam’s eyes dropped to her mouth, hovering there as he wet his own lips, making all her girly parts twitch with anticipation. She couldn’t kiss him, shouldn’t kiss him, but as he leaned closer, she didn’t give a damn what she shouldn’t do. The closer his mouth came to hers, the louder the blood rushing through her ears became. When he said—“I think it’s your turn to share”—it took a moment for it to register and to realize there wouldn’t be a kiss.

  “Faith?” Vivian’s voice broke through the pulsing air. “Is that you?”

  She whipped her head around, saw the girls traipsing toward her, and quickly turned back to Sam. “I’m sorry.” For almost kissing you? For looking like I wanted to? For my friends interrupting us?

  He reached for her hand, speaking fast. “Go out with me.”

  “I…I can’t.” She knew the dangers of going out with Sam, and Vivian was right. She was too taken with him to make smart decisions.

  “One date.”

  She knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer, but she didn’t trust herself with him. “You don’t date.”

  “I don’t sit on the beach and talk either.”

  She heard her friends’ voices coming closer and rose to her feet, brushing the sand from her legs, feeling shaken and shocked and tingly at the thought of going out with him.

  “People don’t change, Sam.”

  “What makes you think I need to change? I’m not a cheater. I told you that.” He stepped closer, leaving her no air at all. “I like talking with you, Faith. One date.”

  Brittany jogged over to them, with Hilary and Vivian on her heels.

  “You guys have been out here for an hour,” Brittany said. “We were worried.”

  “They were worried. I knew Sam wouldn’t take advantage of you,” Hilary said. She smiled and added, “Unless you wanted him to.”

  Sam’s eyes bore into Faith’s. Her mind whirled and spun. One date.

  Vivian looped her arm into Faith’s and said, “Come on. I want to dance. Sorry, Braden. It’s girls’ night. We gave you double time. You’re lucky we aren’t kicking your ass.”

  They dragged Faith down the beach toward the bar. She looked over her shoulder at Sam, still standing in the same place she’d left him, lifting his hand in a half wave—and she thought she saw a tiny piece of herself back there, too.

  Chapter Seven

  “FINALLY.” SHANNON SLIPPED off her barstool and embraced Sam. “I thought you were going to blow us off.”

  He kissed his youngest sister’s cheek. “Would I ever do that?”

  Shannon raised her dark brows. Sam, Cole, Ty, and Shannon were dark like their father, while Tempest and Nate took after their fair-haired mother.

  Sam went around the bar and kissed their mother’s cheek. “Hey, Ma. You look nice.” He loved his mother’s style. She dressed like she was either on her way to a beach barbecue or a bohemian concert, with long, breezy skirts and colorful tops.

  His mother, Maisy, reached up and stroked his cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re here.”

  Sam patted his father, Thomas “Ace” Braden’s, back. “How’s it going, Pop?”

  “I’ve got most of my kids under one roof—that makes it a great day.” While his mother’s hair was a wild nest of curls, his father had never veered away from his tight military cut. “Ty and Tempe are in the kitchen getting sandwiches. They’ll be out in a sec. Can I get you a drink?”

  “Sure. Just Coke, thanks.” He climbed atop a barstool and turned his attention to Shannon. “So you’re going back to Uncle Hal’s? How did your project go from a few weeks to a few months? Does it really take that long to research foxes?”

  Shannon had been staying at their uncle’s ranch in Weston, Colorado, the last several months, while working on a project monitoring red foxes in the mountains.

  “So many questions. I didn’t miss that while I was away. You know how it is,” she said evasively as Ty and Tempest came through the kitchen doors carrying trays of sandwiches.

  Sam looked at Shannon with a question in his eyes, and she smirked, making him wonder what the heck she was up to. “Does this have anything to do with Steve Johnson?”

  “Oh, please. Steve? He’s a recluse. Totally not my type of guy.” She waved a dismissive hand, but the flush on her cheeks told a different story.

  Sam and their brothers had always watched out for Shannon and Tempe, and he hated knowing she might be dating a guy he couldn’t…What? Warn to be good to his sister?
Christ, he was as bad as Cole was with Faith. Still, he’d been doing it for so long he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “You two looked pretty cozy at Rex and Jade’s wedding. Just be careful, okay? We’re not there to kick the shit out of him if he crosses any lines with you.”

  “You do realize I’m an adult, right? What you just said is the best reason for me to go out with him.”

  “Shannon,” he warned. Damn it. She’d always marched to her own beat, much like him, but now he had an inkling of what Cole must have felt like at the wedding. Man, did this feeling suck.

  She ignored him, moving on to a conversation with their father.

  “Hey, Sammy.” Tempest set a tray of sandwiches on the bar and came around to hug him. She tucked her long blond hair behind her ear as she climbed onto a barstool beside him. “I’m working on a new song focusing on imperfect beauty. I think you’ll like it, given your insistence that all things are uniquely beautiful.”

  Tempest was a music therapist, and she was always writing new songs. She was the quietest and most cautious of Sam’s siblings. She was also the one who took his beliefs most seriously.

  “I’d love to hear it when you’re done.” Seeing Tempest sparked an idea. “Hey, Tempe. Do you know any therapists who would consider donating sessions to women who are going through a hard time? Or maybe offer a discount?”

  Her eyes rolled quizzically over his face. “I can ask around. Why?”

  He wasn’t about to open that can of worms. “For a friend.”

  “Sure. I’ll ask around.” She leaned closer. “More importantly, is it true you’ve got the hots for Cole’s assistant?”

  Sam glared at Ty.

  “Dude, it wasn’t me.” Ty laughed.

  “I heard that, too,” Shannon said. “Was it supposed to be a secret? Jewel told me that you left Whispers with Faith last night. I think Chelsea told her, so if it was a secret, it’s not anymore.”

  “Christ,” Sam mumbled. “I didn’t leave with her. We went for a walk on the beach.”

  “A walk. Is that what they’re calling it now?” his father teased, which made everyone laugh, and made Sam stew.

  “What’s so funny about going for a walk? And no, Pop, that’s not what they call it now. It’s not like that with Faith.” Sam’s jaw was so tight he feared it’d crack.

  “Dude, you don’t do walks.” Ty shook his head.

  “Cole’s assistant Faith?” their mother asked with a spark of delight in her eyes. “She’s such a sweet girl, Sammy. Be good to her.”

  “Yes, Faith. And, Mom, have I ever not been good to a woman?”

  “Of course not, honey,” his mother said. “I just meant, well, she is Cole’s employee. You should be careful. That could get sticky.”

  “Didn’t Cole tell you to back off at the wedding?” Tempest asked. “That’s what he told me.”

  “Isn’t anything sacred in this family?” That’s the problem. Everything in their family was sacred. They protected one another and those they loved as if their lives depended on it. Cole obviously felt like Faith was family, as he did with all of his loyal employees.

  “Honey, we’re just watching out for you,” his mother assured him.

  “For her, Mom,” Shannon corrected. “Sammy doesn’t need looking after.”

  Sam gritted his teeth, unsure why he was suddenly bothered by their honesty when he’d heard it forever. He didn’t like hearing his name tied to Faith needing to be looked after—unless he was doing the protecting.

  “You’re right, Shannon. I don’t need looking after, but I’ll look after Faith, don’t you worry.” Sam took a bite of his sandwich, mulling over, well, everything, while his family looked at him like he was from another planet. “What?”

  Ty and Tempest exchanged a glance Sam couldn’t read.

  “It’s been a long time since you’ve said something like that, honey.” His mother reached across the bar and touched his hand. “You just took us by surprise.”

  “I’ve never heard you say anything like that.” Shannon smirked.

  Tempest looked at Sam, holding his gaze as she said, “You were too young, Shan.”

  Sam needed to change the subject. Nothing good ever came from reliving the past. He was a firm believer that if a person wasn’t moving forward, they weren’t living, and hell if he was going to be that person.

  “Where’s Nate?” he asked.

  “He and Jewel went to Krissy’s dance recital, which reminds me. You’re coming to her big recital, aren’t you?” his mother asked.

  “It’s almost two months away, but don’t worry. I wouldn’t miss it.” Krissy was Jewel’s fourteen-year-old sister. The Fishers were like family to them. They’d lost their father in a boating accident, and a few years later they’d lost their eldest brother, Rick, in the war. Rick was Nate’s best friend, and Nate carried the added burden of having given the order for Rick to go on the supply run that had taken his life. Though Nate had loved Jewel for years, survivor’s guilt had nearly stolen her from him, too.

  “Good,” his mother said. “We’re having dinner here afterward with Jewel’s family.”

  The conversation turned to Shannon and her return to Colorado. She told them about the project she was working on and caught them up on their cousins from Colorado.

  “Uncle Hal still has great barbecues,” Shannon said. “It’s fun to see our cousins from Trusty, Colorado, too. I still can’t believe so many of them are married, having babies, or engaged.”

  “It’s about time.” Maisy glanced warmly at each of her children. “Your generation is so focused on getting more, more, more. I worry the whole idea of family will fall through the cracks.”

  Tempest waggled her finger at her. “Mom, we get together almost every week for lunch or dinner. How can you worry about that? We all love family.”

  Their mother reached for their father’s hand. “Not our family, honey. Your own families. Nothing is more wonderful than coming home to the person you love, or having a family of your own.”

  Their father pulled her in for a kiss. “Your mother wants grandchildren.”

  Maisy laughed. “Is that so bad?”

  “Don’t look at me,” Ty said, giving Sam the no fucking way look.

  Sam was busy trying to figure out how to get Faith to go out with him and was only half listening to the conversation.

  “I want kids,” Shannon said. “Lots of them. Just not yet.”

  “Me too. When I fall in love, I hope it’s as deeply as you and Dad,” Tempest said to their mother. “I have faith that it’ll happen for all of us.” She bumped Sam’s shoulder. “Even you and Ty.”

  Sam wondered about that. He could have almost any woman around—but the only woman he wanted didn’t think he was worthy. That painful reality should send him sprinting in the opposite direction, but he was too drawn to Faith, to her honesty, her vulnerability, her intelligence. Damn, she’d gotten to him without even trying.

  He looked around, feeling the love of his family, thinking of their taunts and the tough love they doled out like medication when they deemed it necessary. He thought about their unconditional support, their giving nature—to friends, family, strangers. He loved all those things about them and, he realized, those were just a few of the traits that had drawn him to Faith.

  He looked out the window at the marina, and like the boats entering the harbor, felt himself changing course. Charting a new path, breaking free from the current that had been his guide for so long he’d forgotten he had a choice, and setting himself free to swim upstream. Toward Faith.

  “One thing’s for sure,” their father said as he wiped down the bar. “When love finds each of you, as I expect it will, it’ll change your whole world. Love is a lot like alcohol. You think you want just a little, but once you get your first taste”—he shifted his eyes to Sam—“your first real taste of adult love, the type of love that consumes your every thought. Once you get a taste of that, you’ll do anything and everything for
more. You’ll want to drown in it.”

  **

  MONDAYS WERE ALWAYS busy at the Peaceful Harbor Pain Management Center, and with Cole away on his honeymoon, Faith had even more patients to see. It was after three, and Faith had been running from one patient room to the next without a break since she’d arrived. She was famished. But even the growling of her stomach and the vast number of patients she’d seen hadn’t been enough to distract her from thoughts of Sam. She’d hoped he’d return to Whispers last night, but he never did. After she and Vivian got home, they’d checked the site, and they’d received an anonymous five-thousand-dollar donation. She knew it had to be from Sam. Who else would throw that kind of money at their cause? Vivian insisted he was using it as a ploy to get her into bed. A very expensive ploy. But she wasn’t buying it. Vivian hadn’t seen how sincere he’d looked when he’d offered to write the check.

  Conflicting thoughts of Sam had invaded her dreams, and she’d woken up hot and bothered and even more confused than ever. If saying goodbye to Vivian this morning, along with this insanely busy day, couldn’t take her mind off of Sam, nothing could.

  She tried to set those thoughts to the side and turned her attention back to her patient. “You can change now, Mr. French, and we’ll see you back in three weeks for a follow-up.”

  “Thank you, Faith. I’ll put a good word in for you up front.” He winked, and Faith smiled and shook her head.

  “You’d better be careful flirting like that. I doubt Mrs. French would like it.”

  He waved a hand. “My Betty knows I’m joshin’.”

  “Have a nice afternoon, Mr. French.” Faith left the room, closing the door behind her. She scribbled copious notes and set the chart in the holder by the door.

  “How’re you holding up?” Dr. Jon Butterscotch was Cole’s partner, and he was as full of energy at eight in the morning as he was at midnight. Faith had assisted in enough of his emergency surgeries to know. With a mop of blond hair that always looked finger-combed, an ever-present tan, and a smile at the ready for even the most trying of patients, he looked like a surfer playing dress-up in his lab coat. But beneath the youthful exterior was one of the finest brains around—the brain of a man who should be twice his age. Much like Cole, Jon took his job seriously, and he took pride in treating his patients as individuals, not cases, which made Faith respect him even more.