I texted Celeste, the taxi took us to Sam’s hotel then Sam dragged me out of the cab and up to his room.
The door barely closed before he was kissing me. Half my clothes were gone before we got to the bed.
And there we stayed for hours as Sam welcomed me home and I returned the favor.
Now was now.
And I was watching my hand move on his fantastic chest thinking a year ago I had nothing and now I had everything.
Everything.
And I wasn’t talking about millions of dollars, a ridiculously expensive robe and a beach house.
All that could be gone and the man who was lying beside me all that was left and I’d still be a girl with everything.
On this thought, Sam’s voice came to me.
“You want it all?”
I stopped drawing, lifted my head and looked at him to see his eyes on me.
They were sober.
All he gave me before, he wasn’t done.
Oh man.
Well, the only answer to his question was affirmative.
I wanted it all. The dark, the light, the good, the bad, the laughter, the fights.
All of it.
When it came to Sam, I was greedy that way.
So I lifted up, shifted and then settled down mostly on his chest, my gaze never leaving his.
Then I whispered, “Yes.”
“I’m in a situation.”
Great. He was not an ex-commando, he was a current one.
This could mean anything.
“What situation?” I asked carefully.
“Got a dead best friend, a dead brother and now, lyin’ on me, a woman who’s worth it. I don’t need the money so I don’t need the work. It’s time to leave the unit.”
Thank you, God.
Thank you, God.
I didn’t verbalize this thought or, say, get up and dance around the room.
I just nodded.
“So what do I do?” Sam asked.
When he said no more, I asked back, “Is this an essay question or are you going to give me multiple choice?”
He grinned then both his arms wrapped around me and he pulled me full on him.
I left a hand at the warmth of his chest but wrapped my other one around his neck, my thumb moving lazily against the stubble of his square jaw and he spoke.
“Three offers from three different networks. They’ve been on the table awhile. They know the others are gunnin’ for me and they keep pushin’ it. I thought they’d back down but they haven’t. They think I’m playin’ hardball so they keep offerin’ more shit. Now the pay is off the charts.”
“Networks?”
“Television networks. Sports shows. One offer is to join a panel, Sunday game banter. One is for my own show, once a week for the football season, talk about football, have guests, shit like that. One is to be the man on the field and in the locker room, interview coaches and players.”
Although for your average man, your not-so-average man and your seriously cool man, all of these sounded awesome.
But I could not see Sam doing any of them. In fact, it kinda weirded me out in a bad way just to think about it.
This must have been written on my face because Sam’s arms got tight around me and he burst out laughing.
I watched.
I missed that.
And he loved it that I gave him that.
I missed it so much and I knew he loved it so much that it actually hurt having it back. It wasn’t a beautiful pain, it was just pain.
I wasted a month of our lives and it hurt.
It wasn’t stupid, I followed my heart and it led Sam back to me, all of him.
Still, it hurt.
Sam stopped laughing and his eyes focused back on me when he explained, “Your face, honey, says exactly what I keep thinkin’.”
“Okay so A, B and C are out. Is there a D?” I asked.
“Got an offer to be the Defensive Coordinator for an NFL team. Again, pay is good but it doesn’t have to be. I got all that I need and if I didn’t, my woman is loaded.”
That got him a grin.
Sam grinned back.
“Well, that sounds like you like the idea better but you’re obviously not doing cartwheels about it,” I noted.
Sam’s grin got bigger as he told me, “Never did a cartwheel in my life.”
“Mental cartwheels,” I explained.
“Never did those either.”
“Sam!” I snapped, slapping his chest. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” he kept grinning then his face grew thoughtful. “They’re dumpin’ the guy they got. He’s performing, it’s politics. The head coach doesn’t like him and the head coach is not performing. Thinks he’s competition and he’d be right. Higher ups aren’t smart enough to see the head coach is talkin’ them into dumpin’ the only talent they have on the coaching squad. I do not need that shit in my life.”
“No, you don’t,” I agreed. “Is there possibly a choice F?”
That was when Sam’s face grew even more thoughtful.
“Talked to Tanner,” he said and I thought I knew where he was going. Sam was thinking about becoming a private investigator which would be cool… ish. It also might continue to be dangerous which was something I wasn’t a big fan of.
“And?”
“His boys play ball. Their coach just got heaved. Physically abused his son right on the field then did some other crazy shit and now he’s in prison.”
Whoa.
“College?” I asked.
“High school,” he answered and I blinked.
“High school?” I queried. “A high school in Indiana?”
I didn’t know what to think about this. Would we sell the beach house?
I didn’t want to sell the beach house.
“No, baby, they promoted from within. Those boys are already training. That’s not an option.”
My face dipped closer to his and I said softly, “It would be an option for Sampson Cooper. Any high school program would consider you for their coach. They’d freaking love it.”
“I use my name and celebrity without anything to prove I got what it takes, the coaching squad won’t love it and if I don’t have a decent team loyal to me at my back, the boys pay.”
I was confused.
“So this isn’t option F?”
“I told you that because it gave me the idea. The Kingston Wildcats’ coach retired last season after twenty years. They hired a new guy out of Texas. Their training has started too. When I got home two days ago, found you gone, took off to find you. But while I was home, one thing I did learn ‘cause Skip talked to Hap, Hap made some inquiries and Skip, Hap and Luci were waitin’ for me at the beach house when I got home.”