Page 12 of Love Everlasting

Close enough. Sam expelled a heavy sigh. A freak accident where I was almost run over by your sister, who bludgeoned me with her shoe. “Naw.” He hesitated, stomach churning over the possibility that Shannon had told Jack he’d hit on her. He was pretty sure she hadn’t, though, since he was still sitting here in one piece with only one black eye … “Thanks for having Shannon drive me home, Jack,” he said quietly, testing the waters with a tentative smile, keeping his words as neutral as possible. “She’s a really nice person.”

“Yeah, she is, Sam, which is why I’m so protective of her. A gentle spirit who wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Sam fought the rise of a gulp. Nope, not a fly …

A twinkle lit Jack’s gaze. “And a killer cook too.”

“Yeah.” Blood broiled Sam’s face as he scratched the back of his neck, his collar collecting moisture. You have no idea.

“Heard she made you breakfast, then tried to talk some sense into you.” Jack studied him with a curious air, as if trying to determine if Shannon had any effect on him. “Did any of it sink in, I hope?”

Sam jumped up to crank up the air, sweat breaking out on his sweat. “Sure.”

One stiletto, several times in my chest.

“Good. Well, I owe her for taking such good care of you. Said she fed you and lectured you, then left you all comfy-cozy, flat on your back.”

Sam blinked. Well, on my back anyway …

“So you owe her, too, dude, for taking such good care of you.”

“I know.” Twice. Once for taking me home. And once for not telling her brother what happened after she did. “I’ll get her a gift card.”

“That would be nice, Ham. So …” Jack said with a tap of his palms on the chair, “now it’s your turn to do me a favor.”

“Sure.” Sam dropped back into his chair, mouth crooking as he took a drink of his bottled water. Not press charges against your sister?

“As you know, Lacey and I have a wedding to go to in San Diego on Saturday, so last night we got this wild hair—why not make a mini-vacation out of it? And Augustine is good with it, so it seems stupid not to take advantage, you know?”

Sam nodded, upending his water. “It’d be a shame not to, since you’re spending the time and money to fly out there anyway.”

“That’s what we thought, too, so since you already volunteered to fill in for me at Camp Hope for next Saturday—”

“Volunteered?” Sam parked his hands behind his neck with a lazy grin, far more relaxed now that Shannon wasn’t part of the conversation. Besides, he was actually excited to help out at the camp for orphans that Jack always talked about, where Jack and his family had volunteered for years. “You mean blackmail, don’t you?” Sam continued, “in exchange for not telling everyone in the office that your little sister had to babysit me after hauling me home?” His eyes narrowed in jest. “Not to mention siccing your last morning appointment on me today—Brian Campbell, no less—so you could take an extra-long lunch, probably to play kissy-face with your wife.”

Jack drew air through a clenched smile. “Blackmail is such an ugly word, Sam. I prefer the concept of sharing the wealth with a good friend. After all, Brian Campbell’s symptoms were quite rare, so it was a good case to be exposed to. Even Augustine said so.”

“Yeah? Well he didn’t puke on Augustine’s tie; he puked on mine,” Sam groused, still ticked that Augustine had laid down the law, demanding Sam wear a tie at the office like everyone else. Sam enjoyed giving horsy rides to his patients and picking the little ones up, which meant risking kid stains on some of his best ties, making Polo shirts his clothing of choice under his white jacket. His scowl went flat. But not anymore.

Jack’s grin was diabolic. “Well, see? You and Brian obviously have a lot in common, Ham—you both puke on your ties.”

“Cute, O’Bryen, but I’m not laughing.” His pained smile was just shy of a frown. “Two of my favorite—and most expensive—ties, ruined.”

“I’ll tell you what.” Jack snatched a sucker from the candy bowl on Sam’s desk. “I’ll buy you a new one if you fill in for me at Camp Hope on your day off as well as on Saturday.” He crumpled the wrapper and stood, tossing it into the wastebasket behind Sam’s desk. “Deal?”

Sam surveyed him through a squint. “Ralph Lauren?”

Shaking his head, Jack laughed, crunching the sucker to bits. He stood and nailed a two-pointer in the can. “You are such a snob, Cunningham, you know that?”

“You would be, too, O’Bryen, if your clothes came from Good Will most of your life.”

Jack’s grin simmered into a smile laced with respect. “I know, Sam. You never cease to amaze me at all you’ve accomplished, given your background.”

Sam’s gaze lagged into a cold stare, suddenly aware why Jack was rapidly becoming one of his best friends. “Thanks, man,” he whispered. “I never forget where I came from, even if most people don’t have a clue.” Releasing a heavy exhale, he shook off his melancholy and offered Jack a sincere smile. “And no tie necessary, Jack, seriously. There’s nothing I’d rather do than help kids who haven’t been given a fair shake, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Jack made his way to the door, shooting a smile over his shoulder. “Appreciate it, Sam. I’ll have notes for you on what’s expected before I leave.” He turned, smile wary as he slacked a leg. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Sure.” Sam grinned, pretty sure he knew what it would be.