Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Stella
I’ve always been a sucker for a hard-working man and seeing Samson in his work pants, steel toes, and vest practically has me drooling. Add in the fact that he just dropped everything to come help me, and I can barely remember that I’m still mad at him.
But only a little mad.
It seems my heartache lessens a little more each day, and while I’m not fully over him leaving, I think I’m pretty well on my way.
Plus, if I’m being honest, life without Samson Carter is like a perpetual winter—dull, cloudy, and gray. He’s my sunshine, my warmth, and dammit, I’m ready for a little heat.
Speaking of, watching him change my tire definitely has me a little hot under the collar. He’s so strong and efficient, and what would have taken me forever, he accomplishes in mere minutes. Gah!
He’s actually the person who taught me to change a tire—Dad tried, God love him, but I was too busy drooling over Samson while he and Orion worked in the yard that my dad gave up and asked him to do it.
“Stella?”
“Huh?” I startle, so lost in the memory of that day, I didn’t even hear him climb up into the truck beside me.
“I asked if you wanted me to follow you to the tire shop.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can figure it out later this week.”
He pins me with a hard glare. “If you think I’m letting you drive anywhere on that tire, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Samson!”
“The way I see it is, you’ve got two choices.” He holds up a finger. “One, I follow you to the tire shop.” He adds another. “Two, I call a tow truck. The choice is yours.”
“Not much of a choice,” I grumble, only partly annoyed.
He shrugs unrepentantly.
“Fine.” I reach for the handle. “Follow me.”
Samson nods. “Don’t go over fifty.”
“Yes, sir,” I smart back, secretly loving his protective side. It’s one of the things I missed the most when he left.
“Go on, before I find something to occupy that smart mouth of yours.”
“It’s gonna be a few hours before they can get to it,” Samson says, stepping back into the waiting room.
“Hours?” My shoulders slump. So much for my plans.
“Where were you headed?”
“It’s… it’s not important.”
Samson moves closer to me, so close I have to crane my head back to see him. “The crushed look on your face says otherwise. So, tell me where you were going.”
“Target.”
“Okay.” He nods once. “Let’s go.”
“You’re going to take me shopping?”
His brow furrows. “It’s not like it’s the first time.”
In all fairness, he’s right. It’s far from the first time he’s taken me shopping, and yet, for some reason, the thought has me giddy.
“Fine, but it might take a while.”
He grins indulgently. “I think I’ll make it.”
“Are you sure? Last chance to back out.”
“What are you gonna do? Sit here in this lobby for hours?”
“I could Uber back to my dorm.”
Shaking his head, Samson loops his thumb through one of my belt loops. “Come on, Luna.”
He starts walking back toward his truck, and following after him is all I can do with the hold he has on my pants. “Samson Carter! Let me go.”
“Did that once, hated it. Zero stars. Do not recommend.”
My cheeks heat, more out of contentment than embarrassment. Maybe we can find a way to work through all of the bullshit after all.
“At least slow down. I’m about to eat asphalt.”
But he doesn’t let me go. Nope. Instead, he yanks me closer and in some kind of magical maneuver, lifts me into his arms, bridal style.
“Oh my God! Put me down!”
“No can do, Luna.”
I squirm in his hold. “Yes, can do. Just let go!”
He swings open the passenger door of his truck and sets me on the seat. “Don’t you get it? I can’t let you go.”
“Do you really mean that?” I ask, fidgeting in my seat.
But Samson doesn’t answer. He just closes my door and walks around to the driver’s side and slides behind the wheel.
The cab of the truck is silent as he turns the key, puts it in gear, and pulls out of the parking lot.
He drives for about a mile before he speaks. “With every ounce of my being.”
“Huh?”
“I mean it with every ounce of my being. You’re not just in my head, Stella. You’re in my heart, my blood, my fucking soul. Do you hear me?”
Gulping, I nod. “Yeah, Samson. I-I hear you.”
He glances at me for a long moment and then nods. “Good.”
“You don’t have to take me shopping,” I say, feeling guilty as he turns into the shopping center parking lot.
“I know, but I want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Luna.”
“Samson.”
He shakes his head and cuts the engine. “Get out or I’ll go shop alone.”
“Fine!” I draw the word out as I scramble to catch up to him.
Inside the store, I start to grab a buggy, but Samson once again catches me by my belt loop. “What are you doing?” I whisper-shout as he yanks me toward him.