Goddess Rising (57 page)

Sam considered Travis with a mixture of wry consternation and amusement as he unpacked the takeout bag. He was probably the last person she’d anticipated seeing today, especially under the circumstances, but she kind of admired his nerve and she liked his style. She wasn’t entirely certain what he was after, but Travis clearly knew which side his bread was buttered on. Showing up to admit in person that he’d underestimated her was a bold move. But was it designed to curry favor with her father or her?

“You’re lucky I’m starved,” Samantha commented. “What’d you bring besides Aunt Hanna’s famous apple pie?”

“Sandwiches from Schlotzsky’s,” he told her. “Your dad told me you like the pastrami Reuben?”

She groaned. “No, I
love
the pastrami Reuben. You get cheddar too?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, gimme, gimme.” Sam reached for the butcher-paper-wrapped delight, her stomach grumbling loudly.

Travis pulled the sandwiches out of her reach. “Why don’t you shower and I’ll set up this spread. Everything will be all ready by the time you’re done. You can eat and read the geo report.” He arched a brow. “I might even let you gloat a little.”

“You’ll let me gloat a lot, Travis Brandt,” Sam sassed, pulling at her damp clothes. She was coated in sweat and grime, and she absolutely needed a shower. Sam put the bag of peas on the counter as she headed toward her bathroom. “Plates and glasses are in the cupboard, and napkins are in the drawer,” she said over her shoulder. “Make yourself at home.”

October—Sunday, Early Evening

Sam’s Apartment, Texas A&M

W E S L E Y

S
even days and
seven nights. Only a week, but it’d felt like an eternity to Wes.

He’d vacillated every day between talking himself into and out of being with Sam, when all he wanted to do was grab onto that girl and hold her tight. But the trigger had been tripped. The incessant self-doubt had lurked into every internal debate he’d been having the past week. Never in his life had Wes questioned so much; never in his life had he cared enough to do the questioning. Truth was, Wes had never been caught in the bewilderment of insecurity, perhaps because he’d never really had much to be worried about. He’d always gone with the flow, rolled with the tide.

Then Samantha had walked into his viewfinder, and with one searing look that could have only lasted a fraction of a second, those days of careless ambivalence had been obliterated. Gone forever. Because now he wanted something more than he’d ever wanted anything before. In fact, it seemed strange to him now that he’d lived twenty-one years without even knowing she existed. In the space of a couple months, Wes couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without her in it.
A damn tragedy
, he told himself as he left his shift at Dixie’s early to head over to her place to surprise her.

Wes hated the way he’d felt the past week—staying away from her while he attempted to get his head screwed on straight. He’d been denying himself all the things he’d come to need in a disconcertingly short period of time. And Sam must have known, of course. That girl was far too smart not to know he’d been off kilter since his visit to the ranch. But maybe she’d let it slide, maybe even chalked it up to his typically relaxed disposition.

As Wes rode to her apartment, he felt the telltale flutter of excitement at the idea of holding her again, imagined all the ways he’d make love to her, all the wordless ways he’d apologize for being a little lost over the past few days. He parked the bike at the last available spot and took the stairs up to her place two at a time. He was just about to knock when he heard a burst of warm laughter through the door. He paused, his fist a breath away from touching her door before pressing his ear to the wood. He caught the strains of a blues guitar and the low murmur of conversation. Sam and someone else. Definitely a guy.

Wes frowned, drawing back, reasoning that the rumble he heard could be easily be Chris or one of Sam’s ROTC buddies. But he figured he’d never know just standing at her door like a stalker in the dim light of the patio, so Wes rapped a few times in a quick ditty. He heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back, felt the shuffle of feet cross the floor.

Sam swung open the door, and Wes’s heart swelled as he took in her cut-offs, noticing that she was wearing one of his t-shirts, loose but clingy enough to outline her body just so. Her hair was damp from a recent shower, and Wes nearly closed his eyes on a groan when he caught a whiff of her jasmine scent. Samantha was a sudden impact to the senses, like a hit of the finest, most addictive substance.
Christ
, he’d been a crazy man to stay away from her so long.

“Wes!” Samantha smiled in the dim light illuminating the front door. “I thought you had to work tonight.”

He stepped toward her, one arm sliding around her back as he kissed the hell out of her. Sam responded in kind for a moment, her grip tight round his neck as he lifted her to him. But she pulled back all too fast, a look of discomfort flashing across her face. “I wasn’t expecting you—” she said, a little breathless.

“Missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck.

“Clearly,” a distinct baritone interrupted from behind them.

Wes’s head snapped up. He took in several things at once: Travis sitting casually at Sam’s kitchen table like he had every right to be there, and two empty plates and glasses in front of them, Texan blues playing the background.

Wes let go of Sam slowly. “Travis,” he acknowledged, the hot sting of frustration and indignance making his face flush. “What brings you into town?”

Travis stood slowly, looking irritatingly at ease. “Wanted to show Sam the latest results from the geological findings for the deep-water drilling prospects.”

“On a Sunday night?” Wes asked, shutting the door behind him.

Travis just shrugged, though the true reason he was at Sam’s place was obvious to both of them.

Wes glanced at her askance, suddenly noticing the bruise on her face and the swollen jawline. “Baby—what the hell happened?” he asked, holding her face gently. He’d seen her banged up before from training, but it never got easier. His protective instincts came roaring to life.

“It’s nothing.” Sam kissed his hand before pulling back. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

“You didn’t know Sam was getting ready for SEAL training this weekend?” Travis asked, as he shot him a censorious look. “If
my
girl was getting into it with guys twice her size straight out of the special forces, you could be damn sure I’d know about it.”

Shame blended with a healthy dose of insolence made Wes brazen. “You clearly don’t know
my girl
very well if you don’t think she can handle herself in damn near
any
situation,” he replied. “Sammy is just about the last girl on earth who needs anyone to defend her—least of all, you or me.”

“Wes, it’s fine,” Sam told him in a
let’s not do this now
tone. “Travis and I just finished eating, but I’m sure I’ve got something in the fridge if you’re hungry,” she offered.

“No,” Wes shook his head, still watching Travis. “I got off work early to come see you.”

“Well, that’s my cue to go,” Travis responded, moving to tidy up the table.

“I’ll clean up—don’t worry about it,” Sam said, moving forward to stop him. She picked up a bound report off the tabletop and handed it back to Travis with a smile. “You should lose to me more often,” she teased. “I’m all for the loser buying dinner—especially if it’s a Reuben.”

“I’ll buy you dinner anytime,” Travis replied, grinning at her. “You just say the word, and I’ll come running.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Wes said before Sam could reply.

She shot Wes a look, but Travis just shrugged it off as he collected his things.

“Call me when you’re in Houston for the meeting at the Kennedy Center, okay?” he said instead. “I’d love to take you to that little Mexican joint I was telling you about. Best enchiladas you’ve ever had in your life,” he winked, making his way to the door.

“I’d like that,” she nodded, following him out. “Drive safe, Trav. And thanks again for the sandwich.”

The pleased look Travis gave her set Wes’s teeth on edge. “Take care, Sam,” he said before glancing briefly at Wes.

Wes lifted an insolent brow just before Sam shut the door. As she turned back to him slowly, he belatedly took in the bruises and marks on her arms and legs. His girl looked like she’d been dragged across the yard and back, and he wondered what the hell kind of training she was doing and why she hadn’t told him anything about it the few times they’d talked.

Because you’ve been avoiding her, asshole.

“So,” Sam began, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the door. “You want to tell me what that pissing contest was all about?”

*

October—Sunday Night

Sam’s Apartment, Texas A&M

S A M A N T H A

The tension ratcheted
up between them, static and ominous like an impending storm. The flash of happiness Sam had felt at seeing Wes again, after a long and difficult week, disappeared at his obvious and utterly unnecessary belligerence toward Travis. She knew there was no love lost between them, but that didn’t give Wes the right to waltz back into her life like he hadn’t pulled a disappearing act the entire week before.

“Isn’t it perfectly obvious why I’d be upset given that asshole just showed up here?” Wes asked in a low voice. “Did you invite him back to your apartment?”

“I did not,” she denied hotly. “But even if I had, why would you care? I’ve barely heard from you in days. Travis showed up with sandwiches, and I was hungry after my workout. That’s all there was to it.”

Wes moved toward her, but Sam held out a stiff arm to ward him off, shaking her head. If he touched her, she’d stop thinking clearly, and she was clear enough right now to know that whatever was going on with him wasn’t because he’d walked in on her shooting the shit with Travis.

“Wes, you’ve been off since we were at the ranch,” she pointed out. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I think it would do us both some good if you just came out and told me what the heck is going on.”

He reached for her again, and she only just managed to evade him. Sam rounded the kitchen table, figuring a slab of wood was probably just the right amount of space to keep between them for the moment.

“Maybe I should be asking what’s going on with you?” he replied, looking thwarted. “You two looked awfully cozy. Anything I oughtta know about?”

Sam huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “You think I’d rather have Travis here?
Really
, Wes?”

“You’re the one who was on a date I seemed to have walked in on,” Wes retorted.

“That’s
not
what was going on, and you know it,” she replied calmly. “Travis showed up unannounced wanting to talk shop. I was starved from working out with Alejandro and figured there was no harm in it.”

Wes scoffed. “Travis couldn’t be more obviously after you if he shot fireworks into the sky.”

“So?” she replied, irritated with his implications. “I want
you
, Wes. I choose
you
. I can’t possibly make that more clear. You’re the one who’s been AWOL since last weekend.” Her point was met with silence—like he wasn’t entirely sure he believed her. Or perhaps more disturbingly, like what she was saying didn’t really factor into it.

Sam squeezed the back of the chair she was holding onto until her grazed and bruised knuckles whitened. She took a deep breath and asked the question she’d been working up the courage to get to ever since she’d figured out something was wrong.

“Was it too much too fast, Wes? Me taking you home?” she asked, meeting his eyes. “We went from sex to ‘I love you’ to meeting my family at warp speed, didn’t we? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Sam held her breath as she watched Wes push his hands through his hair. He gripped the back of his neck, a move she’d come to recognize. He was in conflict. Because she was right. She’d hit the nail on the head and now he was backing off…