Page 84 of Wishing Hearts

“Here,” Sam says, skidding into the room. He shoots a grin my way as he tosses the booklet. I catch it as Sam proceeds to hop on one foot so he can tug his sock into place. His shirt is riding halfway up his stomach, and his belt is unbuckled.

The man looks like a beautiful, rumpled mess.

“Christ, we’re runnin’ late today,” he says, righting his shirt.

“And whose fault is that?” I ask, zipping Winnie’s backpack up.

Sam looks unrepentant. “You’re just so warm in the mornin’, stud. I like puttin’ my mouth on you. Tastin’ all that delicious skin.”

“Sounds like something a zombie would say,” I mutter, even as said skin flushes hot at the memory. I do so love Sam’s mouth.

He barks a laugh as Winnie reappears in the wide doorway.

“Y’all coming?” she asks, hands on her hips. “We’re gonna be late.”

Sam and I share an amused look.

“Let’s go,” I say, heading for the front door.

Winnie runs ahead, getting seated in my truck, and I toss her backpack in the back of the cab with her. Before I can get into the front, Sam is there, tugging me around gently. Hand on my cheek, he gives me a kiss.

“See ya later, stud,” he says.

“Yeah,” I mutter a little breathily.

Sam shoots me a wink before rounding his own truck and getting in. He drives off first, but I’m quick to follow, my head still reeling and my heart pounding like a drum.

Has it really been three weeks of this? Three weeks of Sam staying over most nights? Three weeks of sleepy cuddles and mornings together and kisses before he goes?

I’m already accustomed to the change. Accustomed to having Sam here, cooking breakfast or doing Winnie’s hair. Playing out back with Tigger and sharing my bed at night. Feeling like, for the first time in a long time, I have someone of my own. Someone who’s mine, but who’s also here for my family. Someone who makes me feel lighter than I have in a long time.

What am I going to do if he goes?

I swat the thought away. Sam hasn’t given me a single reason to think he isn’t in this for the long haul. I have to trust in that. And I do.

Luckily, I get Winnie to school just in time for her not to be late. She hustles out the door after a quick, “Bye, Daddy,” and I wait until she’s being ushered inside by a teacher before pulling away. Not so luckily, the minute I get to work, I realize I left my own lunch at home on the counter. Damn it. I’ll have to grab something later.

Except later doesn’t end up looking so hot. My first client of the day—a little shih tzu—pisses on my boot. I knock my head on an open cabinet door an hour after that. And then I bump into Abbott on my way around a corner, knocking his papers to the ground.

“Watch where you’re goin’,” the older man grouses.

“Sorry, Abbott. Let me grab those,” I say apologetically, crouching down to pick up the loose sheets.

“I should hope so,” he says. “Considerin’ you made the mess.”

I don’t bother responding, instead handing him the papers once I’m upright. He grumbles something else before walking off, a slight hitch in his step that didn’t used to be there a year or so ago.

I watch him go, a little frown on my face.

“That was somethin’,” a voice in my ear whispers.

Whirling around, I give Deborah a look. “Stop creeping.”

She laughs, following me down the hall. “I wasn’t creepin’. Just happened to catch the crash. You doin’ all right? You’ve got a whole…face goin’ today.”

“Thanks,” I mutter.

She bumps me with her elbow. “C’mon, now. It’s a good face.”

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