Wanting Forever (A Nelson Island Novel) (8 page)

BOOK: Wanting Forever (A Nelson Island Novel)
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“I love you, Hunt.”

“Love you, man. See you in a few days.”

After they hung up, Sam sat staring at the phone. After almost three months apart, he was going to be reunited with Ever. Even if it was just for a little while.

Did it only have to be a little while? Why couldn’t it be for good? A prospective future in Nelson Island bloomed beautifully before him. He had a job; he was making money. He could get a place for the two of them. If Hunter wanted, he could find a job and move down, too.

They could do this. It had been enough time. The cops were still looking, but they hadn’t figured out that Ever was still speaking to him. They thought he was long gone. And he was.

They could do it. They could start a life together.

The comfort that thought provided surrounded him, soothing him from the inside out. Made him feel like he had his old purpose back again.

Then his thoughts drifted to Aston, and he came crashing back down to earth.

He would have to be around Aston all the time. He worked for her father. At least until the end of summer, they’d be together. They’d gotten to a place where they could work together, completely ignoring the electricity that sizzled between them when their hands accidentally touched. They managed to avoid eye contact altogether, because meeting one another’s eyes led to an unconscious movement toward one another.

But he couldn’t ignore the conversations they shared. The little tidbits of knowledge he was gathering about the girl he called Princess were worming their way into his heart. Inevitably, they were growing closer with every hour they spent together.

Maybe having Ever around would fix it. Whatever was wrong with him when Aston was around, Ever could change it.

The front door opened and Reed strolled in.

“What the hell, dude?” he asked indignantly.

“I’m sorry, Reed. You just walked into my place, and you’re the one saying ‘what the hell’?”

“Well, yeah. I haven’t seen you in weeks, man. We’re supposed to be friends, remember? And what the fuck are you wearing?”

Reed stared at him, aghast.

Sam looked down at his black slacks. He’d rolled up the sleeves on his plain white dress shirt, but he still looked more formal than Reed had ever seen him.

He spread his arms and grinned. “I had to grow up sometime, Reed. Don’t worry, it’ll happen to you, too.”

“Shut your dirty fucking mouth. Get that shit off, Sam. We’re going to Sunny’s tonight.”

Sam groaned and fell back onto the couch. “Come on, man, I’ve worked all day. I have visitors to get ready for. I don’t have the time or energy to go out tonight.”

“Sam, if you don’t get off that
motherfucking couch
right now, I’m going to call Blaze,” Reed warned. “And what fucking visitors?”

“Fine,” Sam answered. “But I’m taking my bike. I need to be able to come home on my own when I’m done.”

Reed nodded. “Agreed. What visitors?”

Sam grinned. “My girl’s coming to visit.”

“No fucking kidding?”

“Yeah. And my brother.”

Reed’s eyes narrowed. “This will be interesting. We’ll take them out this weekend. I’m out. I’ll see you at Sunny’s in less than an hour, right?”

“Right.”

“Don’t make me send Blaze, Sam.”

Sam placed his hands in the air, surrendering. “Never.”

Thirty minutes later, Sam rode into the parking lot of Sunny’s and killed his engine. He removed his helmet and got off the bike. His boots crunched in the gravel as he carried the helmet with him up to the door.

“Well, that was a whole ’nother kind of hot.” Aston’s remark blasted him from the shadows beside the door.

“Oh, man.” He paused in his path to the door, searching for her in the darkness. “In about a month, I’ve gone from shit under your feet to hot. This is definitely progress.”

She stepped out into the light washing down from the door, and Sam’s breath got lost somewhere between his mouth and his lungs.

She wore a lacy black bustier-style shirt that screamed at him every naughty thing he’d ever thought. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep his eyes from traveling down to the cleavage spilling out of the front. The lush skin at her neckline played peekaboo as the creaminess contrasted sharply with the tight, black fabric. Her cutoff jean shorts had him aching for home, and she was wearing a pair of black cowboy boots.

Cowboy boots.

It was the boots that almost pushed him over the edge and stopped his feet from continuing their forward progress. Years of containing his natural urges and attractions nearly came crumbling down around him. He couldn’t handle Aston Hopewell in boots. She could walk around in her spiky stilettos and expensive sundresses. But cutoffs and boots? Now she was speaking a language that led straight to the place that he tried so hard to fight; his groin twitched just enough to remind him that he was still a living, breathing
man
.

“Aston.” He spoke slowly, working against the inappropriate images that flooded his mind. He couldn’t disguise the tight strain in his voice no matter how hard he tried.

She stepped up beside him, dropping her cigarette on the ground beside her and stamping it out. Surprise registered on her face as she peered up at him.

“You mad at me, Waters?”

Her scent, always so spicy and sweet, wafted over him as she stood there with hands glued on her hips. He braced himself with one hand against the wooden doorjamb. “No…no, I’m not mad. It’s just…you’re wearing, uh…”

Shit. Now he couldn’t even form a full sentence without stuttering all over himself. Aston and her damn outfit were turning him into a drunken idiot, and he hadn’t even set foot inside the bar yet.

She leaned against the other side of the doorway. A teasing smirk played over her lips, and he knew…he
knew
she could read his thoughts like she was reciting them from a book.

“I’m wearing what, Sam?”

He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, she was still standing there, eyes burning into his. Hers were an ocean of azure, and they were smoldering. The heat in her gaze sent a shock of caffeine straight to his lower extremities, causing an immediate erection and he cursed himself for losing his shit over a girl who was so far from being his.

He struggled for control of himself. Fought the urge to reach out for her hips so he could drag her up against him. Reminded himself that he wasn’t allowed to do any of it. Her boyfriend was probably waiting for her inside. His girlfriend was his whole reason for breathing.

“Boots.”

She stared down in open shock. “You like my boots? I’m a Carolina girl, Sam. Of course I own a pair of boots.”

Sam stared at her, standing under a halo of yellow light from the fixture above the door. Looking for all the world like the darkest, sexiest kind of angel and causing him to forget where he came from. With just a look, she was doing things to his body he’d never felt before, never allowed himself to think about.

“Aston,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

She trembled, finally recognizing the precarious situation they were tiptoeing around. “Yes, Sam?”

“I need you to step away from me. Now. Go inside, grab me a beer, and get your ass and those
boots
under a table. Okay?”

He stood motionless, one arm still pressing firmly against the doorjamb. He towered over her, his eyes never breaking their stare.

She hesitated. “Sam…”


Now,
Aston. Please. Go.”

She took one last, longing look at him. Then she turned and fled into the bar.

Sam let out a shaky breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. He put his other hand up against the doorjamb and dropped his head forward until it was touching rough wood. He took a deep, rattling breath and wondered what the hell was happening to him. He wasn’t this horny guy who walked around chasing skirts all the time. That had never been him.

And, he realized, it still wasn’t. He hadn’t even looked at another girl since he’d been in South Carolina. He’d only seen Aston.

He sighed heavily, scrubbing his palms over his face. Then he opened the door to the crowded bar.

The noise of voices and laughs, drinks clinking and lively music enveloped him as he entered, making what happened in the parking lot seem surreal.

He approached the table in the back where he could hear Reed’s raucous laughter and Blaze’s jovial voice.

“Sam!” Tamara squealed his name just before she threw herself in his arms.

“Someone’s happy to see you,” Ashley drawled with an eye roll.

Sam found an empty seat waiting for him next to Reed, and saw an opened Michelob sitting on the table at his place. He smiled slightly and glanced at Aston. She was sitting in her chair next to Princeton, a small smile on her lips.

And he couldn’t see her boots, thank God.

He sank into his seat and took a long swallow of beer.

“What’s up, man?” Reed asked in a quiet tone. “You cool?”

Sam tore his eyes away from Aston and glanced at Reed. “Uh, yeah. I’m good. Just happens to be a good night for a beer after all.”

Reed nodded, and then directed his attention at Finn. “Finn, you’re taking a shot tonight.”

“I’ve got Ash in my car,” Finn argued.

“I’m not listening to that shit tonight, Finn. Ash can drive. She’s not an invalid.”

“Go ahead, baby.” Ashley shot Reed a glare, then smiled sweetly at Finn. “Have some fun.”

Reed bought a round of shots for the guys, and Sam took his gladly.

With the tequila running hot through his system and the beer cooling him down again, he finally began to feel more like himself and less like a horny, emotional wreck.

  

Aston admitted to herself that watching Sam almost lose his stellar control was exhilarating. She’d arrived moments before he had, and when she saw him pull up on his bike she hadn’t been able to resist waiting for him. His reaction to her outfit was expected; his reaction to her boots was not.

Most of the guys were slurring their words. Except for Sam and Blaze. Sam had stopped after a single shot of tequila; Blaze never seemed out of control, no matter how much he drank. Now Aston, Ashley, and Tamara were rolling their eyes watching Reed, Tate, and Princeton act like idiots.

A pretty brunette was taking up residence in Reed’s lap, and he whispered into her ear. He’d found her the last time he’d been up to the bar to get a round of drinks. He’d included hers in the round as well.

Aston watched in disgust as the girl laughed at something Reed said while he nuzzled her neck. Her tank top dipped low as he brought his arms around to cup one of her breasts. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. Somehow, Aston kept herself from gagging.

“Sam!” Reed called, looking up from the brunette. “You need another shot.”

“I’m driving tonight, Reed. No more drinks. I’m all done.”

“But you gotta prepare, man. Your girl is coming this weekend.” He glanced at Aston. “And I’m sure you need to let off some steam before that happens.”

Princeton caught the glance and rose from the table on unsteady feet. “What the fuck are you looking at Aston for, Reed?”

Reed scoffed. “She’s my sister. I’ll look at her however I want, Prince.”

Aston’s head jerked toward Sam. “What’s he talking about, Sam?”

Sam sighed. “Nothing.”

Princeton looked from Aston to Sam and back again. He threw his hands in the air and headed for the bar.

“Stupid slut,” he muttered over his shoulder as he went.

Sam was on his feet so fast Aston barely had time to take in the insult.

“What did you just call her?” His voice was low, and laced with deadly calm.

“The way you two are always looking at each other. I’m not an idiot, man.” The alcohol in Princeton made him stupid enough to take a step back toward the table.

“I don’t care what the fuck you think is going on. It’s not. You don’t deserve her, but since you got her, you’re one lucky asshole. But don’t ever let me hear you call her a name like that again.”

“Or what, Waters?”

Aston stood. “Stop it, Prince. That was shitty. I haven’t done anything to deserve it. You’re cut off for the night.”

Princeton turned and jerked Aston toward him. “Then let’s go. I want to leave with you. Now.” He began pulling her toward the door.

Blaze quickly stepped in front of Sam as he started to follow.

“You’re going to let him treat her that way?” Sam leveled an angry glare at Blaze, his voice lifting to be heard over the din of the bar.

“Chill, Sam,” Blaze warned. “Those two go at it like this all the time. You don’t need to stand in their way. Aston’s got this. She always does.”

Sam pushed Blaze’s arm off of him. “I won’t watch it, man. I don’t care how strong she is. No woman should have to put up with that shit.”

He walked toward the door that Princeton and Aston had just exited.

“Aston!” His voice echoed in the still, warm air.

She turned, still grasped in Princeton’s hands.

“Back off, Sam,” she called.

Princeton wrapped his arm around Aston’s neck, dragging her lithe body halfway toward the ground.

Sam reached them in two strides. “Oh,
now
you want to touch her? Get the fuck off her. Now.”

He wrenched Princeton’s arm free of Aston, shoved Princeton backward, and pushed her behind him.

“You’re trashed. You need to go home. I’ll go get Blaze. Aston’s not driving you tonight.”

Princeton looked furious. “Really, A? You’re going to let this slow-talking motherfucker tell me what to do?”

She leaned around Sam. “Yeah, Prince. Tonight I am. I’m sick of dealing with you when you’re like this. Go home. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Blaze was already behind them, pulling out his keys. “Come on, Prince. We can pick this up again tomorrow. You’re done tonight.”

Prince tossed one last angry glare back at Aston and Sam, and climbed into Blaze’s F-250. The gravel crunched under the large tires as they rolled out of the parking lot.

Aston whirled on Sam. “What the
hell,
Sam?”

He gazed at her, bewildered. “What did I do?”

She shoved him in the chest, not fazed when he barely moved. “What did you mean…
‘now’
he wants to touch me?”

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