She’d never known any of that. She’d known his sister had died, but not the details. “It wasn’t your fault, Sam.”
“I know that now, but I felt so guilty and pissed off for so long.” He raised a hand to the top of her head and slid his fingers down the back of her hair. She felt his muscles relax a bit. “I stil feel El a’s loss. I stil get pissed about it, but I don’t take it out on myself or anyone else so much these days.”
She listened to the heavy thud of his heart and turned her face to press her lips into his chest. She’d always thought Sam was superficial. Interested in momentary pleasure, and he was, but there was also something deeper behind his blue eyes. Something he liked to keep hidden. The boy who’d fil ed his father’s shoes and the disciplined man who’d worked hard to reach his goals lay beneath that charming smile.
“For years after that,” he continued, “I did some reckless, reckless things. You were part of that reckless fal out.”
She looked up into his face, at his strong jaw so tight.
“There are things in my life I regret. That I’m ashamed of. Probably not as many as I should be.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “But I regret Vegas.”
So did she. Funny thing was, not as much as she had a few months ago.
“Not that I met you. I can’t regret that, or I wouldn’t have Conner, but I do regret that I married you in a ceremony that I largely don’t remember. I regret that I hurt you. I regret that I didn’t act like a man. That I left you in a hotel without a word. With nothing but a marriage certificate and a stuffed dog. I regret that a lot. I feel a lot of guilt and embarrassment about that.” He pressed his forehead into hers. “I’m sorry, Autumn. I’m sorry I left you alone at Caesars.”
For the first time since she’d met him, he uttered the s-word. For the first time since she’d pieced her heart back together, she felt a smal tug at one of the strings. She dropped her hands to her sides and took a step back. The one word she’d waited to hear could destroy her careful y reconstructed life.
“Don’t.” Don’t make me forget. Don’t make it better. Don’t make me love you again. “I don’t want to like you that much.”
“You already like me that much.” A smile worked one corner of his lips. “I think lunch in your office today showed how much you like me.”
“That was sex. That’s al .” She shook her head and raised a hand as if to stop him. “No attachments.”
He dipped his head to look into her eyes. His smile gone. “You don’t think you can get past what happened in Vegas, do you?”
Could she? “I don’t know. I’m not very good at the whole ‘forgive and forget’ thing.” And if she did forgive and forget, what kind of fool would she be if it happened again? When it happened again? Sam was a hockey star. His life was huge. Hers wasn’t. “That was a time in my life I try not to think about.”
Impossible as it was sometimes.
“Tel me about it.”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t help but think about it, and I need to hear about it as much as you need to tel me.” He reached for her. “Because I’ve always wondered.”
She stepped back, and his hands fel to his sides. He’d wondered? He’d wondered, but he’d never thought to pick up the phone and ask? “I was scared, Sam.” She pushed her hair behind her ears. “I was scared and pregnant by a guy I didn’t even know. It should have been the happiest time of my life, but it wasn’t. Every child deserves parents who are ecstatic. Conner didn’t have that.
“While other women were going to baby classes with their husbands, I was getting divorced. What’s there to say beyond that?” Evidently a lot because the rest just poured out. “My mom had died a few months before, and Vince was off in Iraq or Afghanistan or South Korea or wherever. I hadn’t seen my dad in about ten years, and I was al alone. Sick as a dog and al alone. I didn’t have anyone. I didn’t know how I was going to support myself or my baby. You’re a man, so you’l never understand that kind of fear.” She moved to the coffee table and straightened Conner’s papers. “I didn’t understand why any of it happened. I didn’t understand how I’d gotten myself into such a foolish position.” She fussed with his pencils. “And I didn’t know why you’d married me and dumped me. It was a very bad time in my life and I was”—she bent down to pick up crayons and pencils—“scared.”
Sam watched Autumn fuss over Conner’s schoolwork. Emotion flushed her smooth white cheeks and wrinkled her forehead. He’d hurt her. He’d always known that, of course. He’d just never known what to do about it. Until now.
“I real y didn’t understand any of it either.” But he was beginning to. His instant attraction. The intensity of it al . He was beginning to understand that maybe, just maybe he’d fal en for a girl in a crowded bar. A girl he didn’t know, at a time in his life that was fil ed with crazy chaos. That maybe his heart had real y shitty timing.
Every coach he’d ever played for, every captain he’d ever played with, had al told him the same thing: “You never learn the first time. You always have to get hit twice before you see it coming.” He was s
eeing now what he’d seen that first night at Pure. A bright shiny light he wanted to catch in his hands and hold forever. If she let him.
“Wel , if it’s any consolation,” he said, “you’ve always scared the shit out of me.”
She looked up at him out of the corners of her green eyes. “Right.”
“It’s true. You’re so sure of yourself, and you don’t take crap from nobody. That’s kind of intimidating.” This time when he reached for her, she let him take her hands. “You’re a good mother and you run your own business. You could sit back and live off the money you get for Conner. Other women might, but you don’t. You work real y hard.” He’d always admired that about her. “You should be proud of yourself.”
“You think I’m a good mom?”
“Of course. I couldn’t ask for a better mother for my son.” He smiled to lighten the mood. “And I’m not just saying that to get laid.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Thanks.”