Page 9 of Wishing Hearts

“One of Loretta’s places?” he presses.

I look over at him in surprise. “You know Loretta?”

Sam shrugs a little. “I know of her. I used to live near those rental houses she owns.”

“When was that?” I ask.

Plum Valley is a small town. If we’d crossed paths, I’m fairly certain I would have remembered the man.

Sam’s smile is a little crooked. “For just a year when I was nine.”

That explains it. He was long gone when I arrived. “Well, yeah,” I answer. “That’s where I’m staying.”

“Lucky you,” he says, bumping me lightly with his elbow. “I’m all the way outta town at a motel that’s seen better decades.”

Sam goes quiet for a moment, and I finish my lemonade. His silence doesn’t last long.

“Hey, Harrison?”

I huff a laugh. “Yeah, Sam?”

“Sammy,” he corrects with a lopsided grin.

I shake my head. “I can’t call you that. You’re not my lover,” I all but mumble. The nickname feels much too personal. Much too affectionate, even though Sam’s own coworkers have been calling him such.

But Sam’s eyes twinkle like I just gave him the winning lotto numbers, and I realize my mistake far too late. He leans a little closer, speaking under his breath. “I could be.”

Oh, Christ.

Carl mumbles something and makes a swift retreat, and I clear my throat, raising a brow pointedly. “What was your question, Sam?”

“Well, Jesus, Harrison. I ain’t got a clue anymore. My mind is stuck elsewhere.”

“Okay. Well.” I stand up and collect my trash. “If you think of it, let me know.”

Sam hastens to follow me as I dump my trash and head toward the barn where my gear bag is. His footsteps reach me before long, and he falls into stride beside me. I already know what’s going to come out of his mouth before he opens it.

“Wanna hit the bar in town?” he asks, expressive brown gaze flicking to me, ever-present smile on his face. “My treat.”

God, it’s tempting. So tempting. I know Sam’s offer is for more than a drink. What would it feel like to forget all of my responsibilities for a little while and let myself get lost in the company of this man?

Could I do it? Could I be that Harrison from a decade ago?

“No,” I say, catching a flicker of disappointment cross Sam’s face as we enter the barn. “Meet me at my place instead.”

He perks up as if I’d electrocuted him, and that smile of his stretches wide. Fuck, he has a nice mouth.

Am I really doing this?

“It’s the green house,” I tell him before I can lose my nerve. “Do you know where—”

“Yeah, I know where it is,” he says, cutting me off in his excited haste.

A few of the sheep baa as I collect my things and close my bag, and all the while, I can feel the weight of Sam’s gaze on the side of my head. My heart beats rapid-fire inside my chest, and when I turn, Sam is watching me unflinchingly.

The confidence he has. I’ve always liked that in a man.

“Harrison,” he says, taking a step forward. His previous humor washes away, and in its place is a startling intensity I’m unprepared for. “Just so you know… I would metaphorically kill for a go at your ass. But whatever it is you want? Whatever you need? I’m here for it.”

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