Page 64 of Love Everlasting

She peeked up at Chase, and he nodded, his knowing look eliminating all hesitation as he gave her back a gentle rub. “Go. I need to head home soon anyway, so I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Nodding, she squeezed his hand before hurrying from the dock, heart sprinting along with her body as she ran to where Sam stood like a statue. “W-What on earth are you d-doing here?” she rasped, stomach constricting at the look of grief in his eyes. “And why aren’t you with Jazz?”

“I needed to talk,” he whispered, his deadly serious expression joining forces with the gravity of his tone to wreak havoc with her pulse. His gaze flicked to where Chase had turned back to the river to fish alongside Jack, and a knot ducked in his throat. He took several steps back, as if to leave. “Look, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to interrupt. It can wait till tomorrow—”

She stopped him with a hand to his arm. “No, it’s fine, Sam, really. Chase said he’s leaving shortly anyway.”

Chest rising and falling with a heavy sigh, he slipped his fingers through hers and led her toward his car, his silence unnerving her.

“Sam, you’re scaring me,” she said as he opened the passenger door. “Please—tell me what’s wrong.”

Without answering, he closed her door and circled to his side, head bowed as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He got in and closed his door, finally meeting her gaze. “I broke it off with Jazz tonight,” he whispered, the brown of his eyes black with intensity.

Shannon couldn’t breathe. His words snatched all air from her throat while her brain grappled with what he was saying.

Jazz is out of his life?

Jaw tight, he started the car and put it in gear, his glance fraught with regret. “Do you mind if we go somewhere quiet to talk?”

“No, of course not,” she whispered, reaching out to gently massage his arm, his pain becoming her own.

His hand immediately covered hers, and her pulse skipped when his thumb caressed the back of her wrist. Giving her hand a light squeeze, he returned his grip to the steering wheel while he peered straight ahead. Obviously lost in his thoughts, he silently drove to Tybee, their favorite running beach over the last few months. He seemed somewhere far away, so Shannon didn’t push, knowing Sam would talk when he was ready.

He parked the car on Tybrisa Street and got out to open her door, helping her out as always before leading her to the Tybee Island Pier and Pavilion. Awash in the watercolor pinks and purples of dusk, the pier was quiet tonight, with just a smattering of couples sitting on benches overlooking the water. Usually Sam ushered her with a guiding hand to her back, but tonight his fingers laced firmly with hers, gaze pinned on the covered pavilion at the end of the pier. He steered her to an isolated bench on the far side, giving her palm a slight press before he sat down, tugging her along. “I hope you don’t mind, Shan, but I needed someplace quiet and calm to talk through this,” he said, his face chiseled in gravity. “And somewhere we could be alone.”

Her heart stumbled at his words, its beat erratic as he continued to hold her hand, thumb grazing her palm. Near breathless, she broke the connection to shift and face him, his touch muddling her mind far too much for coherent discussion. “No, I don’t mind,” she whispered, arm straddling the back of the bench while she discreetly inched away to give herself the distance she needed. She girded herself with a deep draw of sea-scented air, the gentle whoosh of the ocean on the shore providing a tranquility she desperately needed. “Sam, what on earth happened?”

Offering a faint shrug, he expelled a tired sigh before sagging against the bench, head bowed while he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re too good of a teacher, Shan,” he muttered, “so it’s all your fault.”

She blinked, a tad nervous to hear why she was to blame. “I … don’t understand.”

He rested his head on the back of the bench, profile somber as he stared at a sky heavy with stars. “All this time I thought I was in love with Jazz, that she was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.” The faintest of smiles shadowed his lips as he peered at her out of the corner of his eye. “But you taught me what real love is, Teach, and being with Jazz these last few months made me realize that’s not what we had.” He shook his head slowly, the motion melancholy as his gaze returned to the sequined sky. “What we had wasn’t love. It was a mutual lust fueled by jealousy and control, each of us too mired in pride to even consider the other’s feelings.” His voice gentled as he quoted the Scripture she’d worked so hard to drill into his head. “Love does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud, does not demand its own way, is not easily angered, keeps no record of wrongs …”

Shannon’s breath shallowed considerably, her brain battling an emotional tug-of-war between remorse and relief. Remorse won out as she strove for words to restore his hope. “But love is also patient, Sam, and kind. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

“True, but not in this case. Not if it’s not the right person,” he said quietly, slowly pivoting on the bench to face her head-on. He rested his arm across the back until their fingers almost touched. “I discovered that making love wasn’t love at all, and when it was removed from Jazz’s and my relationship, there was very little left. You taught me that physical intimacy outside of God’s precepts muddies the waters, making it difficult to see things clearly, things that truly matter in a life-long relationship.” He paused, absently cuffing the back of his neck, the gesture almost awkward. “You were right. Without sex, Jazz and I suddenly couldn’t communicate, couldn’t agree, couldn’t connect like two people in love should.” The tips of his fingers gently grazed hers, robbing her of speech as well as air. “Not like you and I can, Shan,” he said softly, the look of tenderness in his eyes swirling warmth in her middle. “So it’s all your fault, Angel Eyes, because it looks like you’ve ruined me for other women.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Shannon jumped up, body trembling as she clutched her arms to her waist. “Sam, I’m so sorry—I never meant to cause problems between you and Jasmine, I promise.”

She took a step back when he slowly rose, towering over her. “Not consciously, I suppose,” he said with a faint smile that tightened her stomach. She stopped breathing altogether when he stepped close enough to buff warm palms on her bare arms. “But subconsciously?” She couldn’t move, limbs paralyzed when his fingers slowly traced up her skin to glide over her shoulders, leaving fire in their wake as they skimmed up to cradle her face in his hands. His brown eyes softened with such affection, she thought she might faint. “I’m hoping and praying it was your plan all along,” he whispered, voice husky as he bent in, his shallow breathing merging with hers. “Because the truth is I’m falling in love with you, Shannon, and my only regret is that it took me so long to figure it out.”

She had no control over the tears that swelled in her eyes, and when he bundled her to his chest with a low chuckle, she literally sobbed. His strong arms banded her close until she could feel the wild beat of his heart, as chaotic as her own. He pressed a gentle kiss to her head. “Uh … I’m hoping that means you’re falling for me, too, and not that you feel sorry for me?”

A laugh broke from her lips that ended up quivering into a sodden heave, causing Sam to pull away with a grin. His smile was tender as he brushed the hair from her eyes. “You know, Shan, all this crying and laughing isn’t doing a whole lot for my ego. So if you don’t mind, can you tell me if you feel the same because if you don’t, I’m going to need some heavy-duty therapy from my best friend.”

Her lips trembled into a soggy smile as she nodded, hardly able to believe that Sam Cunningham felt about her the same way she did about him.

“Say it, then,” he whispered. A glimmer of the vulnerability he seldom revealed infused his words with an urgency that matched the intensity in eyes, naked with need.

Against her better judgment, her heart slowly unfurled like a rosebud ready to embrace the sun. With a rush of love, she cupped a shaky hand to his jaw while his handsome face blurred through her tears. “I’m afraid I’m falling for you, too, Sam Cunningham, whether I want to or not.”

A heart-melting grin eased across his face as he swooped her up in his arms, spinning her ’round and ’round until she was as dizzy as her heart. Setting her back down, he threaded gentle fingers into her hair and drew her close. “I’ve never met a woman like you, Shan,” he whispered, his eyes caressing her face as if it were the first time he was really seeing her. “So gentle, so kind …” His gaze settled on her lips, and her heart slammed against her ribs when he slowly bent in, mouth hovering over hers as if awaiting her consent. “So incredibly beautiful and pure …” His words faded into her mouth as he nuzzled her lips with such excruciating tenderness, a moan ached in her throat. “You even smell pure,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin, “fresh and clean, like the scent of vanilla.”

Her mouth curved beneath his. “I should smell like fish.”

“Angel fish,” he said, mouth wandering to fondle the lobe of her ear, “which are remarkably beautiful, by the way, just like you. Leading me to believe you’re not only the perfect friend, Angel Eyes, you’re the perfect woman as well.”