The truth smacked him with the force of a 250-pound line backer. That was why he felt he knew her. The music. The words. They were hers. All the things she felt and sang about were her, and he felt connected to them and her. Letting out a sigh, he laughed at himself. Stupid. He was a groupie. That’s what he was. He was no better than all the fans out there yelling at Luke Bryant. He stared at her talking easily with Luke and another band member. For him, it wasn’t just her music that he liked though. It was her. It was everything that she was.
He was in deep. Way too deep. But he was not the man for her. He was not religious. He was not good. He had had a very public affair with his best friend’s wife. He’d turned his back on his father. He was nothing.
He didn’t even know if he was a real football player anymore. The Destroyers didn’t want him. Miami…well, things were still up in the air with the contract.
Then it hit him.
Tiffany was going up, and he was on his way out.
He gulped and pushed away the mix of emotions as she came back, her face completely lit up.
“Sam, that was amazing!” She jumped into his arms.
Taken aback, he held her, loving her happiness and instantly saddened by the realization that he didn’t even deserve to be here with her. She was so good. But, selfishly, he would take this moment anyway and soak it up. He told himself he would get her to a better place. Then he would let her go.
She pulled back.
He instantly felt cold, like the sun had been taken away.
“I’ll never forget this night.” Tears filled her eyes.
He smiled down at her, lightly touched her cheek, but didn’t move in to kiss her. “I can honestly say every time I’m with you it gets more and more memorable.”
He could see her blush, and he loved it. She smiled. “What time do we need to be back for the jet?”
Even though he shouldn’t prolong their time together, because he knew it’d just be harder and harder when it was over, he couldn’t stop himself. Gently, he took her hand and pulled her out the door toward the parking lot and the car that was waiting for them. “The jet will go when we show up.” He grinned. “But I thought you’d be hungry. Don’t you want dinner?”
Not pulling her hand away, she kept pace with him. The smile that had been pasted on her face the whole time stayed in place. “I’m starving.”
24
They sat at the top of Virago, a rooftop-dining restaurant in the heart of Nashville. Tiffany felt like she was in some kind of dream. She and Sam sat across from each other as they finished their honey fired sushi and tempura. Sam had reserved the whole top of the restaurant for them. She would have been overwhelmed by the whole thing if she hadn’t already been swept away on a private jet to a country concert where she met her favorite singer in the whole world.
Still giddy, she leaned back, unable to stop smiling. “I know it’s stupid, but I feel like a princess.”
There was a twinkle in his dark eyes. He leaned back and nodded approvingly. “A country princess.”
She laughed. “I guess so.”
He tsked his tongue. “It fits.”
She felt her heart quicken. “Sam, I know you think I should take that spot with that band.”
“You should.”
Looking down, she let out a breath and calmed herself. “I guess…”
“You just let your ex get into your head too much.”
She scoffed, the truth of that filling her. She shook her head. “I just…I wish…”
“What?”
“I wish I could have been the one to walk away, ya know? I wish I could know for sure that I would have eventually walked away from him.”
He sighed. “I get it. I never had that opportunity either.” He gave her a look. “But you still shouldn’t let him decide your future.”
She couldn’t do this. “Let’s just finish this night. Let’s not fight.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
They both looked out over the city, and then unable to stop herself, she turned back to him. She knew she would probably regret getting to know him more. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. She did. She really did, but she also knew he was leaving. Just like Brett had left her. Even though in her heart of hearts Tiffany had known that Brett hadn’t really loved her, not in the way she’d hoped for. She’d been so stupid. Foolish. It was like she was a little kid. She had wanted to get married in a church. To spend their lives singing and raising beautiful kids and living out the fairy tale happily ever after. Now she saw how stupid that hope had been.
Brett had not believed in God. He hadn’t believed in anything really. Only himself. Even knowing how risky it was for her heart, she still couldn’t stop herself from asking the questions. “So you decided to take a detour from surfing?”
Looking uncomfortable, Sam shifted in his chair, uncrossing and then crossing his ankle to his knee. “I did.”
“Why?”
Winking at her, he grinned. “Can’t taking a beautiful woman to a concert to say I’m sorry for being a jerk be enough of a reason?”
Feeling heat go up her neck to her cheeks for the millionth time that night made her look away from him. “I was a jerk, too.”
“I like it when you blush.”
She sighed and closed her eyes for a second before flashing them back open. She tried to stay on point. Unbidden, thoughts of all the pictures of him and Sheena splattered on the front of every magazines filled her mind. Abruptly, the breath and color went out of her.
“What’s wrong?” Sam pressed her.
“Nothing,” she answered quickly.
He leaned forward, taking one of her hands on top of the table. “What?”
She stared at his hand. She hated that she liked the feel of it on her, the gentleness of his touch and the way it made her heart race and comforted her at the same time. She didn’t know how to ask about him. She felt selfish for and confused about even wanting to know.
“Tiffany?”
Meeting his eyes, she forced the question out. “Did you love her?”
Jerking back, he kept his hand over hers. “Oh.” He seemed surprised by the question.
“Did you?” She wasn’t stopping now that she was asking. She felt the same dogged kind of determination that Sam had exhibited toward her at the diner this morning.
He pulled his hand back and looked at the lights of the city. “I thought I did. It’s…I told you I thought I could make what we had…different than it was.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry.” And she realized she meant that. She hated that he’d had his heart broken. She thought of how much she’d judged him. “Those without sin cast the first stone.” She felt terrible. “I’m sorry, Sam. I…when I found out that Brett had slept with another girl they’d brought into the band to play the keyboard, I was so angry. I’ve been taking out that anger on you.”
Looking at his hands, Sam nodded. “Displaced anger.”
She grinned. “That sounds like a shrink term.” She pointed out, using his word for therapist.
A slow smiled washed over his face. “See, it proves I’ve been paying attention.”
She smiled back. “I have to ask, did you grow up in a church?”
He sighed. “I grew up Catholic. I even went to Catholic schools until my mother passed away when I was twelve.” He shrugged and Tiffany saw the pain in his eyes. “My father kind of lost it and became a functional alcoholic for a lot of years. He pulled me out of Catholic school, saying it cost too much. But…I do believe in God.”
She stayed silent. She didn’t know what he was getting at.