She laughed. “What are you doing?”

Without responding, he moved to the other side of his bed and then pushed it closer to hers until it was touching. Then he jumped onto the bed, assuming the same position on his side with his head propped in his hand. Only now he was only three inches away from her not a foot and a half. Every part of him felt alive and awake. No, he definitely didn’t need sleep.

Her eyes creased and she reddened. “You’re an interesting man, Sam Dumont.”

He reached out and took her hand. “That’s better.”

Her blush deepened. “The way you look at me…” She broke off.

He was sure his own cheeks were a little red. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, for lack of better words at the moment.

Relaxing, she grabbed a pillow and positioned it under her head. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Holding himself back from moving closer to her, he settled for hand holding, happy to be with her. He scoffed. “There are no other girls.”

Her blue eyes, eyes that reminded him of the color of the waves in the early hours of the morning. She looked down. “So how many girls have there been?” Her voice was tentative.

He didn’t really want to discuss this. “I’ve only been with Sheena. Really been with…”

She frowned and studied him. “But what about all those girls splattered on the front of the Enquirer with you?”

He shrugged. “I took them out, but that was it.” He sighed. “I figured I could hardly keep myself sane. Not a great time to start a relationship.”

Compassion filled her face. She took her hand out of his and gently touched the side of his face. “Tell me more about the panic attacks and your shrink.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it with her. Honestly, he didn’t mind, but he wasn’t really great at being vulnerable in front of anybody.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

Covering her hand, he rolled onto his back. “No, I want to tell you.”

She waited.

“I guess it’s the same sad tale. A guy falls in love, and a guy gets his heart broken.” His heart rate shot up a notch. He didn’t like talking about the past, but he knew he had to clear the air between them. “In high school and college, I dated a bit, but I was focused on football. I had to be.” He shrugged. “You know my dad was an alcoholic and ended up losing everything after my mother died. I…I went to live with my dad’s parents when I was seventeen. My life was uncertain. The only way I felt I could get control was through football. So I kept my head down and worked. I wish I could say I didn’t do a lot of stuff with women because it was a moral thing.” He thought of her, how good she was, and what she believed in. “But it wasn’t. I was in survival mode. And when I got a scholarship to Miami, I was running from my old life. Now that I think about it, the panic attacks actually started then, but I didn’t understand them. This kid on our team got hurt. It was a neck injury that took him out of the game for good. He recovered, but I never forgot how terrified I was. I mean, of course I knew the risks of football, but that made me realize I seriously needed to have a back up plan for my life if I didn’t want to be like my father.”

Her face remained unreadable, but Tiffany kept her hand in his.

He kissed the back of her hand. “I guess I’ve been running, in one way or another, ever since then. I finished my business degree at the top of my class. Then fate worked out, and I got drafted.”

Tiffany nodded, slowly. She scooted closer to him. Her hair fell onto his shoulder and he gingerly reached for it.

Their eyes met and his breath hitched.

“Sam Dumont, tortured soul, running from his demons.”

The way she said it, like she really got it, melted everything inside of him and made him want to hold her and never let go.

“What?” she asked.

How did he describe to her how amazing she was?

She hesitated. “Would you go back to Sheena, if you could?”

“What?” The question took him off guard.

“I know she left you.” Tiffany hesitated. “What if she came back for you?”

He had to level with her. “I’ve wondered about that this past year.”

She didn’t speak for a second.

“But I know I wouldn’t go back to her now.” He didn’t want to tell her the magnitude of how he was feeling toward her too soon. It might scare her away. She wasn’t like other girls—all needy and looking for a way to play him. So he simply picked up more of her hair.

“You like my hair.”

He petted the softness of it and closed his eyes, pulling some over to his face, smelling it, and running it softly against his skin. He chugged out a laugh. “Okay, you’re hair is like a religion to me. I’ll admit it.”

This made her laugh, and she inched closer to him, laying her head down on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes, relishing her so near to him.

Unsure how long they lay there, he didn’t know exactly when he’d fallen asleep.

All he knew, when he jerked awake, was he had to get up. He jolted up to a sitting position.

“What are you doing?”

Gently, he pushed her to a sitting position. “I’m going to walk you back to your room.”

She didn’t move for a second. Then she stood and rubbed her eyes. “Okay.”

When they got to her room, he gently kissed her cheek then her lips, lingering a bit longer. “Tiffany Chance, country music star, I’m going to do this right with you.”

The side of her lip tilted up. “I’ll let you.”

39

The next day Tiffany couldn’t deny that she had butterflies in her stomach as they left the hotel, and when Sam got onto the interstate toward Denver, she liked the fact he turned on the radio and then reached for her hand.

She wasn’t exactly sure what this was between them. Obviously, they were dating. But, it was more. Much more.

They didn’t talk much as they went from Boulder into the heart of Denver. It was lunchtime when they pulled into the outlet mall outside of Castle Rock. Sam made her stay as he got out and went around the car to open her door.

“Are we eating here?” She kept her hand in his as they walked toward the strip mall.

“Nope.” Sam pumped his eyebrows.

“What’s going on?”

“You’ll see.” He grinned and opened the door to the mall for her.

The feel of his strong hand in hers and the way he confidently walked into the mall, like he was the super cool guy in high school, made the edges of her lips pull into a smile. Brett had been the alternative punk guy. He claimed to live his life as a statement, but now, as she stood with Sam, she realized Brett almost slunk to the edges, waiting for his chance to pounce on an opportunity—to get something free, to get noticed. But Sam, he faced the world head on, almost daring someone to get in his way. It was there in the way he walked and the way he stared people in the eyes, challenging them. He wasn’t mean, but he was determined. Until last night, she hadn’t realized why he’d had to be so determined. After hearing about him losing his mother and pretty much getting abandoned by a father, she was even more proud of him for making it. For taking what he wanted. She used to think he was such a jerk. Now, she saw he had that hard layer for a reason—he had needed it. She no longer saw the tough guy. She saw a simple man, trying to make her happy.

They walked through the mall for a couple of seconds and then stopped in front of a boutique.

“Why are we here?”

Sam opened the door, giving her a mischievous grin. “Well, you mentioned you needed ‘star’ clothes.” He gestured for her to go inside.

“Oh no.” She would not be this girl, the one that had a man do everything for her. She turned back out of the boutique.