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“They’ll be even harder to undo now,” he said, his grin starting to look decidedly wicked.
“I’m sure you can manage,” she squeaked before turning tail and getting out of there. His knowing chuckle followed her down the stairs and all the way out the front door, and even when she was in her car and halfway home, she could still hear it echoing around in her head.
Sam continued to laugh as he watched Dahlia McGregor’s swift retreat. She was a weird little thing. He hadn’t considered the fact that she would be around when he’d made the impulsive decision to come to Riversend. Truthfully, he hadn’t given her much thought at all since their torrid encounter at Daisy and Mason’s wedding. It would definitely be fair to say he’d almost forgotten about her entirely. But seeing her again tonight had reminded him how bizarrely hot he found that whole button-down librarian thing she had going on. This forced convalescence might not be as boring as he’d feared it would be.
He was going to be here for at least three months, and he had to pass the time somehow. Might as well pass it with the primly hot little Dahlia McGregor.
Lia was rattled. Her hands shook so badly she could barely get her key in the door. Thankfully the house was dark, which told her that her parents were both asleep. She definitely wasn’t feeling up to speaking with either of them after the evening she’d just had.
First gropey Gregory and his peripatetic fingers, and then Brand’s surprise reappearance back into her life. All in all, it was an evening she’d sooner forget. And yet—after she was settled in bed—she found herself constantly thinking of Sam Brand. Wondering how he was managing. He seemed to be in a lot of discomfort; would he be able to get any sleep? How would he cope in the morning? He would have difficulty dressing. She wondered if he was going to hire a nurse. Someone to help him out around the cabin until he was steadier on his feet.
She shook herself. It wasn’t any of her business. She was sure Brand had it all figured out. Her phone buzzed, and she lifted it from the nightstand. It was from Daff.
Thanks for taking the groceries to the cabin.
No probs. Brand is there already.
No shit? Crap, I didn’t make up the bed or anything. I took care of it.
Cool! Thanks, man. You’re awesome.
Lia smiled fondly at that.
How was the PTA thing?
Ugh!!!!! Charlie’s math teacher is an asshole. Spencer nearly hit the guy. Lunch at MJ’s tomorrow? I’ll tell you about it then.
It was unusual for them to meet on a Tuesday, but Lia didn’t really have anything else happening after her usual errands in the morning.
Sounds good. See you then. Night.
Daff replied with a little snoozing emoticon, and Lia put her phone aside and lay on her back staring into the dark. She sighed heavily when her thoughts strayed to Gregory. She immediately shuddered and tried to push him back out of her mind. She had hoped that—despite the lack of chemistry between them—they could build a relationship, but after his earlier obnoxiousness, that likelihood was highly doubtful.
Her search for the right man would have to continue, and she might as well stop thinking about Brand and how attractive she still found him, despite his involvement with a gorgeous pop superstar. Because he was the polar opposite of the right man. He wasn’t even in the same galaxy as the right man.
She just wished she could put him out of her mind as easily as she had Gregory. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to see either man again.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuuck!” Sam glared at his reflection in the steamy bathroom mirror and threw his razor across the room. Shaving was clearly not an option. He had sliced his face to ribbons, and he still had patches of dark stubble all over his jaw and cheeks. This was his first attempt at shaving himself since the attack—the nurses had taken care of it during his lengthy stay in the hospital. And then he’d spent five days after being discharged at home in his flat with a private nurse, reluctant to leave the country until he was sure Colby had a handle on everything.
He hadn’t realized how wholly incapable he was of completing even the simplest of tasks until now. And it pissed him off. Luckily he should be rid of the fucking cast in another week or so, which was why he hadn’t seen the need to hire a caregiver here. He hadn’t anticipated how exhausting the journey would be, though. And he was knackered and completely out of sorts.
Even showering had been a bit of a disaster, since he hadn’t remembered to cover his cast and had gotten it wet before comprehending he should probably wrap it in plastic.
