Page 49 of Dirty Little Secret


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“Luna, it’s your birthday.”

“Oh, so you remembered after all. Who clued you in? Orion?”

“You really think I forgot?”

I glare. “I know you did.”

“You know, huh?” He’s all swagger and I can’t help but want to smack the knowing grin off his handsome face.

“Yes.” I stand and cross my arms over my chest. “I know. Why else would you go out drinking with my brother? Why else would you not at the very least tell me happy birthday?”

“Maybe I wanted to surprise you.”

“Fat chance,” I scoff.

“What if I said I could prove it?”

“How’d you even find me, Samson?”

“Because I know you, Luna.” He grins. “I know everything about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” I throw my arms wide. “Then you should have known how much your stupid little stunt would hurt me!”

He has the good sense to look remorseful. “In hindsight, I can see my plan wasn’t the best.”

“You think?”

“Are you going to let me make it up to you?”

“How?”

Samson grins. “For starters, grab that blanket and bring it here.”

“You want my blanket?”

“Yup.” He snaps his fingers. “Move it, Luna.”

“Bossy asshole,” I mutter to myself as I gather up the blanket and my Kindle.

“Give me the blanket,” he says as soon as I’m within arm’s reach.

I hand it to him and he pops the tailgate of his truck, climbing up into the bed to smooth it out.

“What are you doing, Samson?”

He looks at me over his shoulder. “Making us a pallet. Now grab the sleeping bags and pillows from the cab.”

“Sure thing.” Whatever you say. I grab everything he asked for from the passenger seat and throw them into the back of the truck.

He gives me a look that clearly says I’m being a brat, but whatever. It’s my birthday and I’ll be a snot if I want to.

“Grab the cooler and then climb up here with me.”

“Anything else you want me to do? Rub your feet? Balance your checkbook?”

“There’s a lot of things I’d like you to do, Stella. But none of those are it.”

“Like what?”

“Get the cooler.”

I cross my arms and plant my feet. “No, tell me.”

“Stubborn ass woman,” he mutters, but the smile on his face belies his words.

“Here.” I grab the ice chest and heft it up toward him before climbing up into the back of his truck. “Now what?”

“That depends—are you hungry?”

As if on cue, my stomach rumbles. “I could eat.”

“You didn’t go to dinner with your family. Why?”

I wriggle my legs into the sleeping bag and settle back against the cab of the truck. “I wasn’t really in the mood to celebrate.”

“Because of me.”

It’s not a question, but I feel the need to answer him anyway. “Yes and no.”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I want to.”

Samson pops open the cooler top and pulls out two growlers, passing me one. “Coffee.”

I twist the lid and take a sip. “Mmm. Just right.”

His lips quirk. “I know.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, before taking another fortifying sip. “After last year, I was determined to ignore my birthday. I just wanted to pretend it was any other day. But then you came back… and I kept waiting. Waiting for some kind of acknowledgment.”

“And it never came,” Samson groans and my belly flutters. I hate that this hurt is still lingering between us. “I shouldn’t have tried surprising you like this—I’m sorry.”

“It’s… it’s fine. I was upset, but I can see your heart was in the right place. I guess even though we’re trying to move past everything, I’m not quite there yet.”

I wish I was though. I wish like hell I could find a way to stop feeling like the other shoe is about to drop.

“I don’t expect you to be, Luna. I know I fucked up last year. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.” I take another sip of my coffee before closing the lid and leaning my head on his shoulder. “You really don’t. While I don’t like what you did, a part of me gets why you did it. You got scared—not for you, but for me—and as much as I don’t like it, I get it.”

“You’re pretty wise for your age.”

“Yeah, well.” I snuggle closer into his side.

“You ready to eat?”

I shake my head. “Yeah, but can you just… hold me a minute first?”

“As long as you want, Luna,” Samson says, wrapping both arms around me.

We sit in silence, both lost in our own thoughts for a few minutes. And even though the wind is still whispering through the trees and the crickets are still singing their song, in his arms, I no longer feel alone.

The warmth of his body sears mine, and my heart feels too big for my chest, like it’s thump-thump-thumping against my ribs so it can break free and run to Samson.

“Thank you,” I whisper after a while.

“For what?”

“Everything. All of this.”

He loosens his hold on me and leans back against the side of the bed. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

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