Page 102 of Wishing Hearts

Sam grins, but it’s a sweet thing. Gentle and warm.

“In fact, you should probably change your name,” I tease. “Cox just isn’t enough.”

“I dunno, stud,” he drawls. “Sammy Cox-And-Everythin’-Else just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

His tone is joking, but I give a start. “Wait. Is your first name actually Sammy?”

He gives me a funny sort of smile. “Well, yeah.”

“Oh my God,” I say, a little horrified at my own assumption. “I just thought you were being cute.”

“I mean, I’m that, too,” he says with a wink. Because of course he does. “But no. Legally, my name is Sammy Cox. The guy who found me at the fire station named me that.”

I shut my eyes, leaning my forehead against Sam’s own as a million different thoughts race through my head. Including the fact that that could have been Winnie. Her story and Sam’s, they don’t start that differently. I’m just grateful Danielle came to me. That she had the presence of mind to do so. It makes me ache that Sam never had that as a child. He was truly alone.

“I’m sorry,” I say, leaning back. My ass is still resting on Sam’s lap, and I vaguely wonder whether or not it’s comfortable for him—I’m not a slight guy, after all—but with the way Sam’s hands are clamped around my hips, I don’t dare move. “Would you prefer I call you Sammy? I didn’t mean to be rude.”

He huffs. “Please. Like you’re ever actually rude. And no, stud. I quite like that you call me Sam. Feels like a nickname that’s all yours. Well, yours and Winnie’s, really. And, y’know, it makes those times you do call me Sammy somethin’ special.”

His eyes light a little at that, and I have no doubt what he’s thinking. Because the times I call him Sammy are usually the times he’s about to make me come.

I clear my throat. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he says, hands slipping around to my ass. He tugs me a little closer, mouth opening, as if he’s about to speak. But then the sound of the front door thudding shut reaches our ears, and his expression changes from suggestive to almost serene.

“Daddy? Sam?” Winnie calls out.

Sam gives a happy little sigh. “What d’you think? Should we go welcome your daughter home?”

“Yeah, Sam,” I say, slipping off his lap, my stomach doing all sorts of skips and hops. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 28

Sammy

“How’d the big date go?” Carl asks, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. I don’t bother pointing out he just smudged a bunch of dirt across his brow.

“Good,” I tell him, more than sure my face is sporting some sort of loopy smile.

Carl eyes me. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

I shrug, trimming off the sharp ends of the wire fencing we used to patch a small hole out back behind Animal Control. I volunteered Carl and me for the repair job, figuring there was no use hiring outside help for such a small task. We were able to handle it just fine, even though Carl spent the last half hour grumbling about the extra work.

“All right, what the hell is goin’ on?” my coworker asks, straightening up and sticking his hands on his hips. “You’re bein’ quiet, and I don’t like it, Sammy. It’s not like you. In fact, you’ve been quiet all day. Not a single word about that ‘mighty fine’ doctor of yours or his ‘mighty fine ass-ets.’” His expression shifts to concern, arms dropping. “Is somethin’ wrong?”

I huff a laugh, standing up, too, the wire clippers in my hand. “Nothin’s wrong, Carl,” I say seriously. “I, uh…” A dog barks nearby, which kicks off a few others, and for once, I don’t even know what to tell my friend. “I love ’im.”

Carl blinks at me. Once. Twice. “Love him, love him?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “Big time.”

“And, uh…” He swallows. “Does he know?”

My smile softens, and I clasp Carl on the shoulder, understanding his concern. He’s afraid I might still get hurt. But I know that’s not going to happen. Not this time. Not ever again, a little voice inside my head pipes up. I’m inclined to believe it.

“He knows,” I tell him. “He said it first.”

Carl’s face breaks into a huge smile. “Sammy,” he says simply.

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