“It’s a long story,” I said softly and it was. It was also one he would never, ever know.
He held my eyes.
Then he guessed accurately, “You don’t wanna talk about it.”
“No,” I verified his accuracy.
“Right,” he murmured then asked, “You don’t wanna talk about that, you wanna talk about why you sat three tables away from me for three hours tonight and didn’t even smile at me, comin’ or goin’?”
I blinked but my heart started stuttering. I figured this was an improvement, at least it didn’t stop.
Then I asked, “What?”
“Baby, you saw me.”
Well, there it was. I didn’t pull one over on him.
Shit.
“I, uh… didn’t want to disturb you,” I told him.
“Bullshit,” he shot back instantly and I blinked again at the same time my hand jerked in his so his tightened around it.
“Bullshit?” I asked.
“Yeah, Kia, bullshit.”
My shoulders straightened and I didn’t even tell them to do it before my mouth accused, “Well, you didn’t smile or come say hello to me either.”
He stared at me and it occurred to me, even though I didn’t know him, like, at all, that I could sense that he had been being real but now he was getting mad.
Then he stated, “So now we’re playin’ a game.”
My shoulders got straighter and my torso turned more fully to him and I snapped, “I’m not playing a game.”
“Breakfast, totally f**kin’ transparent, f**k me, seriously refreshing and now it’s cat and mouse.” His hands squeezed mine. “Which one am I, Kia?”
Oh my God?
Did he just ask me that?
Seriously?
I yanked my hand from his and turned fully to him, declaring, “Neither, Sam, you were with another woman and I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You came by to say hi, I could have introduced you to Luciana, who’s the widow of a buddy of mine.”
My stomach clutched.
Oh man.
Sam kept talking. “She’s beautiful, she’s sweet but she’s also not my type and even if she was, she’s my buddy’s widow so I’d never f**kin’ go there.”
Oh man!
“Sam –” I started.
“So I can decide what I’m gonna do now, I gotta know, you want me to be the cat or the mouse?”
“Neither,” I whispered.
“We done with this bullshit?” he asked practically before I finished my one word reply.
“I… well, uh…” I stammered then told him truthfully but hesitantly since he seemed kind of pissed off and definitely impatient and he was a very big guy so I didn’t want to make him more of either, “we hadn’t really started with the bullshit.”
“Right,” he muttered, still leaned forward, elbows to his knees, eyes on me.
“Right,” I whispered.
He held my eyes.
Then he said, “Good, then I’ll call Luciana in the morning, tell her I’m bringin’ someone to her thing tomorrow night. I’ll come to your room, eight o’clock. Don’t eat, she’s gonna put on a spread. It’s formal. Can you do that?”
I blinked.
Then I whispered, “What?”
“Tomorrow, Luciana’s party, formal, I’ll be at your room at eight o’clock. Can you do formal at short notice or should I call her and tell her I can’t come and we’ll go out to dinner?”
Oh my God.
Was he asking me out?
“Are you asking me out?”
The slightly pissed off and impatient look swept clean from his face, his lips twitched and he answered, “Yeah.”
“On a date?”
The last two words rose higher and higher and I was pretty certain my eyes were huge.
He grinned, scooted forward in his chair and said quietly, “Yeah, Kia, on a date but you gotta tell me where we’re goin’. Luciana doesn’t f**k around when it comes to her parties or her clothes. You can’t swing that, let me know and we’ll do something else.”
“I can swing that,” I said instantly and damnably enthusiastically.
That was when he smiled, full on, the white flash of his teeth nearly blinding in the semi-dark and it was better than any smile I’d seen him smile before, in person or not. It was so much better, my entire body got warm again.
Then he murmured, “Transparent.”
“Sorry?” I asked.
He didn’t answer. Instead he said, “Not surprised you can swing that.”
I didn’t know exactly why he thought that but I didn’t get the chance to ask because he was speaking again.
“I got shit to do early so I gotta hit it. I leave, you gonna be okay?”
At his open concern, I pressed my lips together and felt that all over body warmth start seeping into my soul.
“Yeah, Sam, I’ll be okay.”
His eyes moved over my face.
Then he whispered, “Okay.”
Then, before I could twitch, he was up, squatting over his chair and his mouth was touching mine.
That’s right, Sampson Cooper’s mouth touched mine.
And it felt sweet. Unbelievably sweet.
My head got light and I blinked repeatedly when his head moved back and he was so close, all I could see were his eyes.
“Sleep well and have good dreams, baby,” he said softly.
Then he was gone.
Chapter Three
Unless Life Led You to That
I stood in front of the full-length oval mirror in my hotel room but I didn’t see anything because I was blinded by anxiety.
Freaking out.
Totally wound up.
At nine o’clock sharp that morning, the morning after Sampson Cooper asked me out on a date, I’d called Celeste. I’d been awake for three hours by that time, waiting (not patiently) until a time it would not be rude to call.
When she answered, I didn’t even say hello. I just launched into mile-a-minute speak about the night before, the Amaretto, Sam, what he said, the fact he asked me out and I also went into embarrassing detail about who he was, how much and how long I’d admired him. At some point during my demented monologue I even cried somewhat hysterically, “He’s seen all my good shoes!”
When it finally occurred to me how much I was talking and exactly how much I was exposing, I shut up.