Page 30 of Working For Her Attention

“Baby?” he called, and to my horrifying dismay, I crumpled up and started to cry.

And this wasn’t some kind of cute pretty girl cry, either.

Nope!

This was the ugly, ragged sobs and snot running type of crying. Oh god! This is it! This is what’s going to push Sam away! I was sure of it, and the realization only made me cry harder. I didn’t have to pick a fight to get rid of him; I just had to have a crying fit.

But he didn’t leave.

He disappeared from view, but only because he rushed towards me, wrapping his strong secure arms around me, pressing a palm to the back of my head to keep me close against his chest.

“Breathe, baby, breathe,” he urged, and when I tried, it came out so rough he hissed. “Breathe,” he repeated, taking my hand in his and bringing it up to rest on the middle of his sternum.

“Look at me, princess.”

“Sa-Sa-Sam,” I stuttered his name. The tips of his fingers on his other hand tipped my head upward, forcing me to make eye contact with him.

“Breathe with me,” he demanded.

Slowly, I started to follow every inhale and exhale.

We never broke eye contact as we breathed in unison.

“That’s my girl.” He wiped away every single tear.

I wasn’t sure how long it took for my heart rate and breathing to return back to normal, but never, not once, did Sam try to rush me. When I was better, he lifted me up like a groom would his bride and sat us down on the couch, splaying me over his lap and bringing my head to his shoulder.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.

I glanced up at him, and his image started to get blurry all over again just as my nose started to sting. I knew if I shook my head, he would drop it. Daddy didn’t push even if he was dying to know. Sam would never force me to talk about something I wasn’t ready for.

“I love you,” I said, my vice surprisingly steady even if a little hoarse.

“Av—"

“You came in, and I saw you at the doorway, and you said, ‘Honey, I’m home’ and—" My lips wobbled, but I pushed forward because he deserved to know what was in my head. For us.

“And all I could think about is you are. You’re home. With me. Just like I feel at home with you and…” I sniffled. He wiped away the errant tears running down my face, but he didn’t look at me like he thought I’d lost it or like I was crazy or too much.

He stared at me like a man in love.

A man who matched everything I felt.

“I used to say that the whole⁠—“

“Honey, I’m home?” he cut in, and I nodded.

“But no one was ever here.” My voice cracked. “But now… now you’re here and I’m here and we’re…”

“Each other’s home.”

“Yeah, and I love you.”

“Baby—"

“No, please, Sam, let me explain. I’ve loved you for a while.” His face softened, and it gave me the courage to spill my guts. “But I was too scared to say it out loud because I was terrified the moment I did, it would all just slip between my fingers. Kept thinking the other shoe was about to drop, and you weren’t going to be who I thought you were.”

“Baby—“