Page 25 of Love Everlasting

“I can do that,” he said with the utmost confidence, jaw firm. “If I can put myself through med school and college, score a spot in Augustine’s practice—the chief pediatrician at Memorial—and compete in an Iron Man Triathlon, I can do this.” He glanced at his watch. “And I’ll start tonight when Jasmine comes over to pick up a swimsuit she left and the rest of her things. All I need is your input as to what you think I should say and do.”

A twinkle lit in her eyes. “Uh, we’re talking a major overhaul, Dr. Love,” she said with a patient smile, “and one hour over coffee and tea isn’t going to cut it.”

“My thoughts, exactly.” He rose and pushed in his chair. “But two or three will at least get me started and hopefully prevent me from making a fool of myself tonight.” He cleared the trash from the table and pitched it in the receptacle before hooking her arm to pull her up. “So … how are you at miniature golf?”

Shannon blinked, snatching up her tea before he pushed in her chair. “Pardon me?”

He gave her a lopsided smile as he tugged her toward his car. “I’ve had five cappuccinos, and I’m ready to jump out of my skin, kiddo, so I need to do something active while you give me advice on how to handle tonight.” He paused, eyes in a squint. “You are good, aren’t you?”

“At advice?” Eyes wide, the heels of her Nikes seemed to drag across the asphalt.

“No, I already know that. At miniature golf.” Opening the passenger side of his car, he winked, leg slacked while he waited for her to get in. “I learn best when crushing competition.”

Mouth unhinged, she perched a hand on her hip, challenge luring a smile to her lips. “Good, because I advise best when crushing pride.”

He grinned, palm extended to invite her to get in. “Then crush on, Teach, because I’ve got an awful lot to learn.”

“Yeah, me too,” Shannon said, her smile taking a slant when he closed her door. “Like how to say ‘no.’”

Sam chuckled as he strode around his car to get in on the other side. “Now, you know you don’t mean that, because this will be fun. Besides,” he said, glancing over his shoulder before easing out of his spot. He gave her a wink. “Something tells me this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Chapter Fourteen

A beautiful friendship? Shannon stifled a grunt as she watched Sam bag a hole-in-one on the third hole.

“Score!” He swooped his ball out of the cup with a little-boy grin that scored more than his stupid hole-in-one.

Yeah, a real beautiful friendship. For Dr. Love, maybe, but for me? Shannon recorded his score on the tally sheet with a quiet sigh. Not so much. Not when the man she swore to avoid forever had railroaded her into having fun with him, laughing with him, seeing him in a light that didn’t bode well for her heart.

In a mere thirty minutes at Putt ‘N Stuff golf, she’d seen a side of the “player” that not only surprised her, but alarmed her as well. Whether opening car doors for her or guiding her with a protective hand to the small of her back, to shamelessly flirting with the elderly cashier or paying for Carol Green’s mini-golf with her three grandsons—Shannon soon understood Sam was a person who thrived on serving others. Jack had told her as much, but she’d let the player reputation sour her opinion of a man who mentored foster kids and coached basketball for inner city youth. It didn’t take long to see he had a way of making everyone feel special, and in a clutch of her heart, Shannon finally understood one reason why. Because the little boy inside—the abandoned orphan lost in the foster-care shuffle—wanted to feel special too.

“Hey, awesome shot, Sam!” one of Carol’s grandsons said whose mini-golf game he’d paid for. His brothers and Grandma Carol quickly echoed their approval, and Sam grinned like he’d just won the U.S. Open.

“So, Teach,” he said as he ambled back, club over his shoulder, “how should I handle tonight? You know, when Jazz comes over?”

“How do you want to handle it?” she asked, strolling to the next tee.

He grunted. “By ignoring her, but she has a key, so it’s too late to change the locks.”

Shannon assessed the obstacles on the green before taking her stance, feet a shoulder width apart as she eyed the hole. “Interaction is important, Sam, and you don’t have many other opportunities to talk to her, do you?”

“Just on rounds twice a week since she’s a Peds nurse at Memorial, then sometimes weekends when I’m on call. But not often unless she comes into the office to see her dad or I run into her at Memorial hangouts.”

With a putt fine-tuned in high school golf class and backyard sessions with Jack, Shannon sailed the ball smoothly over a hump to bank off the back edge, missing the hole by six inches or more. She wrinkled her nose. “Then you have to take advantage of this opportunity,” she called over her shoulder as she finished the hole with a birdie. “How have you reacted to her in the past when you’ve run into her after she’s broken it off?”

“Hey, nice one, kiddo.” Club over his shoulder, he cocked a hip, one hand buried in his pocket while his smile faded into a scowl. “I usually give her the cold shoulder till she needs one to cry on, and then I cave because I can’t stand to see her unhappy.”

Shannon retrieved her ball, wondering how a guy with such a soft heart could so casually toy with the hearts of so many women. She halted halfway on the mini-green, a sudden thought taking her so by surprise, she actually grinned outright. “Well, then …” she said as she approached with a reflective grate of her lip, suddenly realizing just how valuable Sam could be in the novel she was ghostwriting. Love Everlasting was book three in a trilogy by one of her publisher’s top-selling authors, but the poor woman had had a breakdown and couldn’t write a word. So now Shannon was on the hot seat with a skeletal synopsis about a playboy and a princess. Adrenalin coursed as she suddenly saw Sam in a whole new light, wondering if God was trying to kill two birds with one stone: saving Sam along with Shannon’s sketchy manuscript. She paused in front of him, almost giddy over the research that he could provide. “Then let’s introduce her to the new Sam, shall we?”

He squinted while he recorded her score. “I don’t know, Shan—I’m kind of fond of the old one.”

Her smile canted as she strolled back to check out the tally. “Yeah, well, whose fondness you looking for, Doc—yours or Jasmine’s?”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one.” He handed her the scorecard before teeing up, besting her birdie with another hole in one and a cocky smile. “But the mini-golf win is all mine.”

She logged in his score, peering up with a scrunch of her nose. “Gosh, Doc, between your inflated ego and jugular competitive streak, we may never find the other Sam.”

“We have to, Shannon—my life depends on it.”