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"I love you...and I want you to stay," I whisper, searching his eyes for a sign that he's receptive to this--that I'm not overwhelming him. "Stay and...and take care of my dogs, and make us pancakes in the morning, and work at the shelter with me. Stay and be my son's father, because hedeservesto have all the love in the world."
Evan takes my face in his hands and strokes his calloused thumbs over my cheekbones. I lean into his touch, letting my eyes flutter shut as tears fall. It's hard to open myself up like this, to let someone in when I've already been so, so broken.
But Evan's found his way into my heart, whether I like it or not.
"I love you, Samantha Valdez," he says. "I've loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you, and I think I'll love you every day for the rest of my life. I just didn't...I didn't know if you were ready. And if you're not, I'll wait. I'll be here."
"I'll never be ready," I reply. "Not the way that I wish I could be. I'll always be sad, I willneverget over David. But at this point...I would never get over you either. And I don't want to."
He rests his forehead against mine. "Then don't try," he says. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
Chapter twenty-two
Evan
Westandtherefora few minutes, just enjoying being together. Sam finally steps back and clears her throat when one of the dogs whines and paws at my leg, demanding attention.
Normally, I'd be more than happy to pet the dog...but right now, all I want is Sam.
"You want some wine?" she asks. "I don't have dinner or anything--I was thinking about ordering takeout."
"You don't have to feed me," I laugh, putting my hands in my pockets as I walk toward the kitchen. The counter wraps around and puts a little island between us, and that annoys me; I want to be close to her. "In fact...you don't even have to keep me around, if you want some time to think--"
"No," she interrupts, her eyes wide, reaching out like I'm already on my way out the door. "Stay. Not just...not just in Fern Hollow. Stay here. Tonight."
I nod. "Okay. A glass of wine would be great, then."
She pours me a big glass and passes it over to me, her hands visibly shaking. I take it only to put it down, then I lean forward slightly.
"You sure you don't want me to go?" I ask.
She nods. "I'm positive. I think I'm...I think I'm more afraid of you leaving than staying, if that makes sense?"
"I told you I'm not going anywhere," I say, but she shakes her head.
"Not like that," she says. She twists her hands together, not looking me in the eye. "I think I...when it was just sex, I figured that was fine. And it felt comfortable. But now..."
"I love you," I tell her.
"Right. That."
"I'm not just saying it. I mean it."
"I know," she says, her eyes darting up to mine. "And what I'm saying is like...when it was just sex, you could go and it was safe. My heart was safe. But now that were doingthis, I have to worry about when you get in the car for work in the morning, or if you have to go on a trip, or--"
I round the counter to join her in the kitchen, and I take her hands in mine so she'll stop frantically twisting them. I lift her hands and brush kisses to her knuckles, keeping calm even though I want nothing more than to make her come until she's not afraid anymore.
"Sam," I murmur, "will you look at me?"
She does, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Hey," I say. "I know you have a lot of reasons to be afraid, but I'm going to say it again.I am not going anywhere."
She exhales a ragged breath, and a few tears pop out. She swipes at them desperately, jerking her hand away. "Gosh...I don't think I've cried this much in years," she says with a small laugh. "Why are you making me do this?"
"Because I'm selfish and I want you," I chuckle. "Because you should be happy."
"I think I'm just..."
