Chapter 5

Sean

Stupidly, I convinced myself that I was only here to make sure Sam was fine. That once I saw for my own eyes she was doing well, I could tell her friend Tara to stay out of her business and I’d be on my way back to Grey Ridge. More than likely after re-opening some old wounds, but more at peace knowing that she really was getting on with her life after the fire. And she deserves that.

This master plan even included avoiding speaking to Sam. She didn’t invite me here. She wasn’t the one asking me to insert myself back into her life. It’s a bad enough blow to my confidence that she snuck out of my bed in the middle of the night. Never to be heard from again. To let her know I’m still pining for her, and now practically stalking her, would make me look far too pathetic. My male ego is far too fragile to handle it.

But all that went out the window the moment I saw her emerge from her apartment block, looking gorgeous as always, but without the usual spring in her step. Sam owns every room she walks into with her bubbly personality and wicked sense of humour. Today, though, she seems flat. Her shoulders are down, her smile is gone. And she looks far too skinny. Her weight loss is noticeable and dramatic.

I try to convince myself that it’s none of my business. But that’s bullshit, and I know it. I was crazy about this woman. Still am if I’m honest. I would have turned my world upside down for her if she’d let me. Even though she did a shitty thing to me, I can tell that she’s suffering, and if there’s something I can do to help her, I’ll do it.

Lurking outside her office block, I was pondering how to approach her when that guy approached her. He’s tall, but slim, with cool, dark-rimmed glasses and a smart dark blue suit with a white shirt and no tie. He looks effortlessly polished, basically the exact opposite of me. I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but when Sam reached out to touch him, my vision blurred with a primal possessiveness I didn’t know I was capable of.

I pushed those thoughts down, reminding myself that she didn’t want to be mine, so that’s the end of that. It doesn’t change my plan. Did I enjoy seeing him flirt with her? No. Was it any of my business? No. Do I want her to have another boyfriend already? Fuck no. But I’d deal with it if I had to for a couple of days.

I forgot all thoughts of being discreet when he asked her about going to the police and CCTV. My blood ran cold as every worst-case scenario my brain can imagine flashes through my mind. Sam getting mugged. Her house being broken into. Someone hurting her. Sam getting assaulted. Fuck! I pushed to my feet with no idea where I was going. I just needed to move before I exploded.

The elevator doors shut, whisking Sam away to the 5th floor, and I took a moment to calm myself before following. Something about my murderous demeanour must have tipped off the receptionist not to mess with me. After a perfunctory request for me to wait before going through, she did little to stop me following Sam in the next lift. She even offers her help if I need anything when I get back. I’m guessing that anything might be her phone number if I wanted it.

But that was the last thing on my mind as I burst out of the lift and stomped up to the nearest desk, demanding to know where she sits. By the time I get pointed toward the office at the end with frosted glass walls, I’m barely thinking anymore. Was she raped? Is that why she’s struggling?

If she’d stayed in Grey Ridge with me, or let me come here with her, this wouldn’t have happened. I could have stopped her from getting hurt again. And then I’m back to being angry that she left me without any explanation. How couldn’t she see how perfect we were together, and how I would do anything for her? Was I not good enough for her?

By the time I burst into her office, I’ve built up quite a head of steam and I’m sure there is smoke coming out of my ears.

She stared wide-eyed and slightly terrified as I kicked the door closed. As I swing her chair around and cage her in against the desk, I get a whiff of her perfume and it nearly drops me to my knees. Fuck, she still smells amazing.

“Sam. You have five seconds to answer me, or I’m going to find that dipshit of a boyfriend of yours and ask him. Maybe not as nice,” I demand.

She looks confused. I’ve caught her off guard. Good. She deserves to be a little off balance after what she put me through. It’s probably the only way to get her to tell me the truth about what’s going.

If she has been through something traumatic, maybe I should take the softly, softly approach, but that won’t work with Sam. She’ll just fob me off with some clever excuse and I’m not having it. Something serious is going on with her and now I’m glad Tara called me. Despite what we had ending, we had a connection, and I might reach her as a friend.

I give her five seconds to answer me, and I see the fire in her eyes. She wants to fight me. Her gaze drops to my lips, and I feel the familiar stirring in my groin when she moistens her bottom lip with her tongue, her cheeks pinking up slightly and her breath quickening. The faint scent of her arousal hits me, and I can’t believe this is happening. I have to fight the urge to kiss her.

I shove away from the table and curse, spinning away and balling my hands into fists. This woman has me in knots already.

“Sam, answer me. If someone hurt you, I swear to god…”

She’s out of the seat and behind me in a heartbeat, wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing her face into the back of my leather jacket. This is torture. All I’ve wanted is her arms around me, and here we are. Except I still have no answers.

“Nobody hurt me,” she whispers, and my shoulders sag in relief. Turning around, I reluctantly peel her arms off me and stand back, re-establishing some distance between us. It felt too good to touch her. I need to stay away or she’ll fool me again.

“We’re leaving. You and I are going to talk.”

She looks up at me and I wait for her to kick off, to tell me how much work she has to do, that she couldn’t possibly just walk out. Instead, she just looks sad, nodding meekly as she logs off her computer. That’s when I know things are terrible. This compliant version of Sam is making me nervous.

“Sam, is everything ok here?” Jeremy stands outside the door, hands clasped behind his back, as we leave. He’s trying to look authoritative, but I notice he didn’t try to come into the room to check on her. If I was a threat to her, waiting out here wouldn’t be much good.

“I’m fine, Jeremy. I’m not feeling great, so I’m going to head out and get some fresh air. I’ll be back,” she assures him. I want to counter that no she won’t, not today, but I let that one slide in favour of getting out the door without creating a scene.

“Do you know this guy?” Jess asks in disbelief, giving me an appraising look up and down, before obviously finding me lacking. He gives me some serious side eye as he tries to edge Sam away from me.

“Yes, Sean’s a good friend of mine.” Sam puts her hand on his shoulder and leads him further away from me. Maybe it’s the sight of her touching him right in front of me or the fact that she called me her friend, but it’s like a slap to the face.

What am I doing here? She has a boyfriend. She walked out on me.

Damn it. Everyone is watching this scene with interest. If it weren’t for the spectators, I’d be marching for the door.

“Let’s go get you tucked up in bed,” I say quietly, leaning over her shoulder and pecking her on her cheek. I place my hands on her upper arms from behind and stand nice and close to her back, leaving Jeremy in no doubt what type of relationship we’ve had. It’s a possessive gesture and a dick move.

Sam’s smile tightens, and she nods, doing a good job of acting tired and sick, when I know she’s dying to tear strips off me for drawing more attention to us.

“Nice to meet you, Jeremy,” I snarl, extending a hand and giving him a nice squeeze as he reluctantly shakes mine.

“Call me and let me know you’re ok,” he instructs, teeth gritted against the pain. Sam nods in agreement before walking by my side through the open plan desk area and past her colleagues. They’re all watching open-mouthed as I sling an arm around her shoulder and take her purse. She sets her face into a fake smile and waves at one or two people as we make our escape.

When we get outside, I’m waiting for her rage to kick in. I can feel it there, bubbling beneath the surface. She’s mad at me for being a jerk to her new man, for not just leaving quietly, and for barging into her office in the first place. But she just blinks up at me in the sunlight.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she comments. “I missed you.”