Page 23 of Wishing Hearts

When we break for dinner, Sam lopes my way, all the eagerness of a puppy in his step.

“Look at that,” I can’t help but say, giving him a little smirk. “I didn’t even call, and you came.”

Sam bites his lower lip, tucking it away between his teeth. “I’ll always come for you, Harrison.”

My body flushes hot.

“How old are you?” I ask as we head toward the food tables. I’m almost certain he’s younger than I am.

He barks a laugh. “Worried ’bout the legality of what we did?”

I snort. “No. Please, you’re not that young.”

He clutches his chest, as if wounded, and I huff in amusement as he pretends to stumble. “Ouch. Y’know, when the guy you’re wooin’ says you don’t look that young anymore, it hurts.”

I shake my head, cheeks aching with my smile. “I know your ego isn’t that fragile, Sam.”

Sam stops faking his death, but the look he gives me isn’t the cocky one I was expecting. It’s more hesitant, and I’m not sure what to make of it.

I stop still, chest feeling hot. But not in a good way. “Sam,” I say.

The man stutters to a halt, turning toward me. He cocks his head, and I take a step closer, speaking low.

“I’m glad you don’t look young. Because the thoughts I have about you? They’re entirely adult in nature.”

“Yeah?” he replies, hand brushing mine lightly.

“Mhm. And I still have the twinge in my backside to prove it.”

With that, I keep walking, and Sam hastens until he’s in step next to me. I can feel the heat of his stare on the side of my head.

“Still?” he asks, voice low and raspy.

And damn. I like that sound a lot.

“Mm,” I answer, catching his gaze. But I don’t say anything more because we’re at the buffet table now and no longer alone.

Sam is quiet as he dishes up a plate beside me, but that only lasts until we’re seated at a table with Carl and Tilda, and then Sam is talking a mile a minute, catching up with his coworkers in a way speaking of familiarity. Even though I don’t know Sam well, I’m glad he has that in his life.

I let my eyes wander as we eat burgers from Nash’s. I don’t see Doc Hanson, although he did stop by earlier to thank me again for coming. Cooper is nearby, chatting with a few people I don’t recognize. But the one person I’ve been keeping an eye out for since I arrived in town is gone.

In fact, I haven’t caught sight of Wyatt since that one brief glimpse the other day… Right before I fled like my ass was on fire. As far as I could tell, he didn’t spot me.

I don’t know what to think about my reaction. I’m not in love with the man anymore—I haven’t been for a very long time—but I didn’t expect it to hit so hard, seeing him again. I thought I’d be more composed. I didn’t think I’d run and hide in a nearby shed.

Part of me is relieved that it’s looking more and more like I’ll leave here without a confrontation with my ex. But part of me… Part of me is disappointed. And that’s the feeling I’m unsure what to make of.

It’s not like I want to get back together with Wyatt. I truly don’t. But he hurt me. Plain and simple. And maybe, I don’t know…maybe I wanted a chance to yell or scream or say nothing at all. Maybe I wanted a chance to face my old ghost.

“Hey,” Sam says, elbowing me lightly.

I look his way, wondering what I missed.

“All right?” he asks, eyes squinted a little against the early evening sun.

I give him a smile. “Sure.”

“D’you think…” he starts, looking uncharacteristically nervous. And isn’t that something? That I already know what constitutes uncharacteristic behavior for Sam.

---