“About which particular part?” Sam was hedging now, and he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
“So there is something wrong.” HW hesitated. “Can you just tell me?”
“It’s nothing worth telling,” Sam blurted out. “It’s just a stupid thing, which won’t make any difference to the day, and I can’t even believe I allowed myself to get worried about it.”
“If it’s worrying you, I’d still like to know what it is,” HW persisted. His grandma had always insisted his middle name was stubborn.
“Then you’ll be worrying about it too, and the whole point of not telling you is so that doesn’t happen!” Now Sam sounded exasperated, and suddenly everything was his fault. “It really is okay. In fact you probably won’t even notice.”
HW considered his options. His gut was telling him to keep asking questions, but experience told him to shut the hell up.
She touched his cheek. “Don’t make that face.”
“Which face?”
“The one when you look all worried, and then I feel bad, and want to hold you tight, and tell you that everything is going to be okay,” Sam whispered. “I’m not going to leave you at the altar, HW. I swear it.”
Sometimes she knew him far better than he was comfortable with. Knew that inside him, the fears of a little boy who’d been abandoned by his mother sometimes got out and took hold of him.
“Sam . . .”
She stopped his words by scrambling into his lap and kissing him. She kissed him with all the intensity she was capable of, wanting to erase the look in his eyes that expected to be kicked back again and left behind. He tried to pretend he was such a bad boy without a care in the world, but she knew better. But if she told him about the dress, he’d move heaven and earth to sort it out for her, and it really wasn’t worth his time.
“My mom thinks you are adorable,” Sam told him in an attempt to head him off at the pass. “My dad, not so much, because I’m still his little girl.”
HW’s expression relaxed a little as he wrapped his arms around her waist so that she straddled him. “Your parents are great, and nothing like you at all.”
“Yeah, I know. They are really nice, aren’t they? I’m a throwback to my wild Irish granny who came over to New York from Ireland without a penny to her name, a head full of dreams, and a drive to succeed.”
“She sounds just like you.”
“She also wore out four husbands,” Sam noted.
“Wow.” HW shuddered. “Maybe not.” He kissed her again. “Are you and Cam staying up here tonight?”
“Yes, we are. January said she’d come and wake us up at eight so we can have breakfast, and then start getting ready. She said it would take hours.” Sam grimaced. “I’m worried you won’t recognize me after they’ve all gotten their hands on me.”
“You’ll be the one wearing white, and coming down the aisle, right?”
“Yes, that one.” She smiled at him.
“If it’s too much pressure,” HW said carefully, “we can just get in my truck, drive to Vegas, and get married there.”
She petted his chest. “That’s very sweet of you, but my mother would kill me.”
“So would my grandma.” HW sighed. “But I just wanted to put it out there for you.” His hand slid over her ass and her hips rolled toward his. He groaned and gathered her closer until the zipper of her jeans pressed against the hard bulge in his. “I miss you.”
“Mmm . . .” Sam sighed as she rubbed herself shamelessly against him, her nipples hardening against his chest as she bit and sucked on his lower lip.
“Let me . . .” HW murmured in her ear. “Just let me in, let me make you feel good, okay?”
His work-roughened fingers slid under her T-shirt making her shiver as he bit down on her throat, distracting her as he unzipped her jeans and fitted the palm of his other hand over her mound.
“You’re wet for me.” He stroked her through her panties. “Yeah, you’re soaking.”
Sam whimpered as his thumb settled over her most sensitive flesh, and he gently caressed her. She wasn’t even aware that she was rocking into his touch, inviting him deeper.
“Oh, yeah,” HW crooned to her as his fingers slipped beneath the cotton and slicked through her wet welcome. “That’s my girl. Give it up for me.”
She shuddered as his touch turned from playful to demanding and his fingers penetrated inside her. He placed his thumb firmly on her bud, driving her on until she climaxed so hard she froze, dug her fingernails into his scalp like a startled cat, and yelped his name.
He reached up and gently removed her hand from his hair. “Ouch.”
“Sorry,” she gasped against his lips. “It was just so good.”
“Thank you.”
She eased back a little so she could see his face in the darkness. “No, thank you.” She ran a hand down over his stomach and tapped his belt buckle. “Now, it’s your turn.”
“Nah, I’m good.” He eased his hand free and set her on the bale beside him. “We’re not supposed to be doing this, are we?”
Sam glared at him. “You just remembered that now?”
“Yeah. Aren’t you glad I took my time to stand my ground?” HW smiled at her. “Tomorrow you can have your way with me, okay?”
“I will,” Sam said darkly. “I’ll tie you up and torment you all night.”
“I can’t wait.” His cell buzzed, and he winced as he took it out of his jeans pocket and stared at the screen. “January says Yvonne’s not answering her phone.” He looked over at Sam. “What the hell does she expect me to do about that?”
His phone chimed again. “Oh, she says to tell you that because apparently you left your cell on the table next to your plate.”
It was Sam’s turn to wince. “I hope Yvonne is okay. Do you think we should drive down and check?”
“No, I don’t.” HW
