Page 127 of Scandalous Lover

“Yeah, I would, but I’m more of a freelancer. And it doesn’t seem like the best fit for you, having me there.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I felt like that at first. You saw the way I reacted when put on the spot about it. I lashed out, and I know it’s because the thought of sharing you with them, with the world, scares me. I love having you all to myself, alone in my house, where I can be the man I want to be. The man I want to show you. I worry about having you at the resort every day where you’ll see the hard parts. And you’ll meet all the rich vacationers and maybe you'll see that I’m not so special. That you can do better.”

“You can’t keep me locked in your house for the rest of my life, job at The Sands or not.”

He holds me tighter. “I know. But a guy can dream.”

I smile and place a kiss on the top of his head. If there’s one thing in the world I can relate to, it’s insecurities. “Why is it so hard for us to feel like we’re enough? Why is it always such a struggle, such a dance, to just see ourselves as worthy of love, of fitting in?”

Sam shrugs. “I’m not sure. I thought it was just me, to be honest, growing up. Once I started managing hotels and offering counsel to employees, it became clear that most conflicts and drama stemmed from fears of not fitting in with the group. And most people are convinced that everyone fits in but them.”

“And somehow you never used that little insight to convince yourself that being an outsider was all in your head?”

“I wish. I went the other direction. Doubled down on beingthe poor kid of the group, the one always having to accept handouts. I just got more defensive as I got older, fiercely protecting my way of life as somehow morally superior, because that’s the only option I had for being better than other people. Because that’s just it, isn’t it? It’s not enough to belong, we have to be better.”

Naomi nods sadly. “I’m sure I wanted to fit in with my family when I was young, but by the time I was old enough to understand what was going on, that the way my household functioned wasn’t normal, all I wanted to do was be different than them. They had clearly chosen their outlooks on the world, and I was determined to see it all differently. To live a different kind of life. I get what you mean about just wanting to feel better than everyone around you. It’s not enough to fit in. It's like there’s always something to prove. That’s definitely how it is on the internet. It’s a constant game of one upmanship. I guess that’s why people take each other down like they do. It’s not really about community at all, even as much as everyone claims it is. Every person you can cancel is one less competitor for the ultimate prize. Which doesn’t even exist, as far as I can tell.”

“We are an interesting species, aren’t we?”

“It’s a miracle we’ve survived this long.”

“Speaking of which, I don’t know if I’m going to survive much longer in this sun. I already had an hour-long nap waiting next to your computer, and I’m fried.”

I look down at his sweat misted forehead and brush a lock of his short hair to the side, placing a kiss there. “Home?”

He twists enough to look up at me. “Let’s go home.”

I let him pull me to my feet and follow him around the massive pool toward the back doors of the house. “I was starting to feel like a mob wife out there, and not in a good way. In a ‘feds about to seize all my possessions’ kind of way.”

Sam laughs and pulls me closer as we pass through the wide double doors into the equally luxurious house. Fran and Avery are nowhere to be seen. “So, what you’re saying is that you’re happy living in a three-shack homestead for the rest of your life?”

His tone is light, but I can hear the real question there. I consider my answer as he tucks me into the passenger seat of his golf cart. Mine will have to get picked up another day. “Is that what you want? To stay in that house?”

Sam’s eyes are on the road as he pulls us out of the circular driveway and onto the bumpy sand road. “That’s certainly what I would have told anyone who asked.”

Interesting. “But?”

He shrugs, tossing me a glance before turning back to the road. “But I guess once I start questioning things, I have to look at that as well. There’s a big difference between choosing to live in a three-shack homestead, spending ten years making it into a passable house, because it’s your dream and you love it. And having to live in a three-shack homestead because it’s all you can afford.”

“I can see that.”

He shrugs. “I’ve spent so long selling that place as my dream that I’m not entirely certain I know the truth anymore. It was the first house I ever bought, so there was some romanticism about it, but whether or not it’s what I’d still choose, I’m not sure. I told you earlier about my tendency to double down on my bad choices so that they can’t be called out as mistakes. I’m not saying my house is a mistake, but it’s not the hill I’m going to die on. Especially not if you need something more. You may be slumming it in guest rooms right now, but it’s not going to be long before you’re a very rich woman.”

I’m quiet for the long stretch of bumpy road leading to Sam’s driveway. There has been a lot of change, a lot of self-reflection over the last few weeks. My impending inheritance is something I’ve pushed to the back burner for so long that it almost doesn’t feel real how close I am to it.

But it’s very real, and I’m not surprised Sam wants to bring it up after all this talk about his childhood, growing up as the poor kid.

Sam turns down the driveway to the homestead and my heart swells, giving me the words I’ve been desperately trying to find. “I spent eighteen years in a massive estate with a staff and fancy cars and the whole lot. I never once felt happy there. No one in that house was ever happy. I know I’ve got a lot of money coming, but the truth is that I’ve always had a lot of money. I could have lived anywhere and done anything, but the only place I wanted to be was my apartment in Austin, making my own way in the world. Once I came here, to the island and to your house, I felt that way again. Safe. Happy. Calm. Like I could be myself and live the life I want to live. I know it’s not the house that’s giving me those feelings. It’s you. But for now, this is where I want to be.”

Sam is smiling as he parks in his usual spot and hurries around to help me out of the cart. “And wherever you are is where I want to be,” he answers, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

And what if that’s enough? What if there isn’t anything left to prove? For so long I’ve been striving to be enough, to have a career of my own, to prove that I’m worth something.

But right now, in this little jungle home, in the arms of a man who I know loves me for me, it is enough. I am enough.

“I feel like I should carry you over the threshold or something,” Sam says bashfully as we climb the few steps hand in hand.

“I’ll allow it,” I reply.

---