Ink's Second Chance - Carol Dawn Page 0,12
from behind me.
“You do have a logical reason for beating my door, right?” she asks. “Because I don’t know if you can tell, but I live in an apartment complex. There are occupied apartments on either side of mine, and they have their nosy little faces pressed up against the windows.”
“Where have you been?” I ask, ignoring everything else. Now that I know she’s been out and about alone this whole time I’m freaking out for a whole different reason.
What the fuck is wrong with me? My dick isn’t the only thing broken. My brain is, too.
“To get groceries,” she says, looking confused.
Not that I blame her. I’m confusing myself, sweetheart.
“Why did you leave?” I ask, much calmer than before.
She sighs. “I was finished eating and you were preoccupied.”
“I can explain,” I say.
“Sam,” she interrupts. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I have no holds over your life.”
God, if that were only true.
“She tried to con me,” I explain anyway. “She said I was the father of her unborn child.”
Rachel’s eyes widen and mist over slightly before she looks away. I saw hurt there. I know I did.
“And are you?” she asks.
“Of course not,” I answer. “I have no children. I have always been extremely cautious when it comes to protection. Plus, the last time I had sex with her was almost a year ago. She’s fucking insane.”
That hurtful look passes her eyes again before she pushes her chair forward and unlocks her door.
“That’s good then,” she says roughly. “Thank you for lunch, Sammy. It was surprisingly nice to spend some time with you.”
I smile.
“Well, with you and a few of the women that you’ve had sex with.”
I frown and Rachel laughs.
“Consider my ass bitten,” I mumble.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” I say louder.
The guys are always telling me that sleeping with so many women will come back to bite me in the ass one day. Well, day, meet ass.
I have to accept the truth. I want Rachel. And not just for a night or a monthly tumble in the sheets. For life. I want to marry this woman. I want her to have my babies. I want to grow old and die with her.
But I can practically feel the brick wall she’s built between us. And it’s because adult Ink is no more mature than teenage Sammy was.
What the hell do I have to do to gain this woman’s heart?
“Go out with me,” I say on a whim, shutting her door behind us.
“We just went out, Sammy,” she laughs. “I know I have a little booty fluff but I’m not hungry just yet.”
“No,” I smile. “Go out with me. You know, wear my cut. Be my ol’lady.”
Holy hell, this is hard. How do men do it?
The color drains from her face. A reaction I was fully expecting.
“What game are you playing, Sam?” she asks, her eyes misting.
“No game, baby,” I say, kneeling down and placing my hands on her knees.
We’re just inside the apartment with the door shut. Rachel still has her purse around her shoulder and grocery bags on her lap.
“I really mean it,” I admit. “I’ve been fighting this feeling since you came into my shop. I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to.”
“Sam, there are so many obstacles between us that a relationship would never be possible,” she says quietly.
“I don’t believe that for a second,” I tell her. “And I’m going to prove it to you. Give me one obstacle.”
“High school,” she says quickly.
“I meant it when I said, I’ve changed. Maybe it wasn’t completely true at my shop,” I admit. “But I swear to you that it is now. No other woman has interested me since you came back into my life. And at the risk of sounding like a complete dick, I’ve tried, baby. I’ve tried to find interest in other women. But I can’t. Because none of them are you.”
I reach out with my thumb and gently wipe away her falling tears.
“Give me another,” I demand.
Her tears fall faster.
“My legs,” she says so softly that I almost miss it.
I move the bags from her lap to the floor.
“These legs?” I ask, rubbing the exposed skin not covered by her shorts. “These legs are very sexy,” I admit. “They’re so soft, so pale and creamy so…”
“Dead,” she interrupts forcefully. “They’re useless, dead limbs, Sam. That’s all they will ever be. How come you’ve never asked me why I was in this chair? Surely you remember that I used to be able to