Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Sam
I don’t respond to any more of Naomi’s messages that night, but they don’t stop. By the time I get up for work the next morning, I have four unread messages, and not one of them is an important work-related message that I left my phone on all night for.
Naomi: That was so freaking hot
Naomi: Thanks for playing
Naomi: Night Sam
Naomi: Let’s talk tomorrow
I close the app without responding, but I know she can tell I read her messages. Damn technology.
I get two blissfully quiet hours in my office in the morning to deal with scheduling and HR issues that were sent my way the day before. It’s nearly ten before my phone buzzes.
Naomi: I’m heading to Fran’s house to talk about wedding stuff in a few.
I vaguely remember her and Fran discussing the wedding at the bar. It’ll be great to have her out of the resort today. I can’t think knowing she’s close.
Knowing I could climb one flight of stairs and do in person all the dirty things I was imagining last night.
Sam: Sounds like fun. Let the front desk know if you need a golf cart and they’ll set you up with one.
Naomi: Ooh. He lives! I was starting to wonder if I needed to go check on you.
I smile down at the screen, feeling a bit sheepish for never returning her messages. It’s not like me to leave someone hanging.
Sam: Sorry, I had an early morning.
Naomi: No problem. You just disappeared on me last night. *winking emoji*
Shame starts to creep up from my gut. I had no right to ghost her like that. I’ve been thinking a lot about how this whole thing affects me and my life, but there’s another person involved. One who has feelings and deserves my respect.
Sam: I should’ve said goodnight. Sorry. I was feeling a little…uneasy
Naomi: About the video?
Sam: About the whole thing, really. It was my first time doing anything like that.
I wanted to be pissed about the stupid video.
But I wasn’t.
Naomi: You did great. *gold trophy emoji*
I laugh out loud just as the door to my office opens.
Dom.
I tuck my phone in my pocket and clear my throat. “Morning.”
He narrows his eyes at me but huffs out a good morning before jumping right into business.
“The produce truck is late. Would you mind calling down to the dock to find out if the barge made it in on time?”
“Sure thing.”
“And we’ve got a full tasting for next week’s wedding couple at noon today if you were planning to come down.”
“I’ve got it on my schedule.”
“I’m moving Naomi up to the house today. Her room has a check-in at four.”
I cough in surprise at the mention of her name but recover quickly. “Let me know if you need help.”
As if his words summoned her, my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. I reach down to hit the button without taking it out.
Dom just watches me. “I think we can handle moving a few suitcases.”
My phone buzzes again, and I jump, reaching down quickly to silence it.
“You gonna get that?” he asks, eyebrows raised.
“Oh, it’s not…I mean, yeah, of course. But I know who it is.” I stumble through the words. “Nothing important. ”
Dom just stares at me for another long moment before turning and exiting my office without another word.
I flop back in my chair, relieved, as I pull my phone out.
Naomi: Seriously. It was like the second-best night of my life. *winking emoji*
Naomi: I’m moving up to Dom’s house today.
Sam: I heard. He was just here.
Naomi: So much for privacy…
I should be grateful she’s moving out of the room above my office. Out of my building and into the watchful home of her protective brother. Maybe that’ll finally force me to move on from this crazy dream.
Instead, all I want to do is reassure her, and myself, that everything will be okay.
Sam: Dom and Reina work a ton.
Naomi: And I can always hide you in a closet if one of them comes home unexpectedly.
I laugh in surprise and feel myself blush just a bit.
Sam: I didn’t say anything about coming over there.
Naomi: I’m going to talk you into it eventually.
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I just set my phone down. It buzzes again almost immediately.
Naomi: I’m very persuasive .
Again, I set the phone down without responding. And again, it buzzes.
Naomi: Can’t decide what to wear…
I smile at the message, which is not the reaction I expect from myself. I want walls between myself and this forbidden woman, but I also melt because she knows me. Knows what I’m thinking and feeling. Knows when to push and how to get me to do things I never knew I wanted or needed.
When was the last time a woman really knew me? Maybe never. And this woman is just so…perfect.
My phone buzzes again.
I glance down at the screen and see that it’s a photo message. I click into the app so quickly I almost send the phone flying across my desk.
She sent a picture of herself kneeling on the floor of her room in front of the full-length closet mirror. She has on a short skirt and her knees are wide, giving me just a hint of red panties at the apex of her thighs.
The phone covers most of her face. Her long, wavy hair is down around her shoulders, looking wild, like someone was running their fingers through it.
She apparently hasn’t chosen a top yet, because those gorgeous tits I’ve been dreaming about are covered only by an arm draped across her chest. I can’t see either nipple, but I’ve got a full view of the soft swell below her arm.
What is it about her skin and her softness that sets me off the way it does? I stare at that picture long and hard, imagining myself leaning down to bite her soft, tan flesh.
It doesn’t take a full minute before I’m dealing with something else long and hard.
Sam: You know I’m working, right?
Naomi: *crying laughing emoji*
Sam: What are you trying to do to me?
Naomi: *angel emoji*
Sam: I might have to shut my phone off, princess.
I hit send before I can talk myself out of it. I shouldn’t be using that sexy pet name when we’re texting from my office.
Hell, I shouldn’t have a sexy pet name for Naomi at all.
This woman is nothing but trouble.
Unfortunately, she seems to be exactly the kind of trouble I want.
I shake my head, trying to clear some of the images from the video session last night from my brain but it doesn’t work. Instead, I close my eyes and lean into them.
Her soft body in my hands.
The taste of her on my tongue as I licked my way over her skin.
The sound of her voice calling my name.
Sammy.
This little fling, or whatever it is, could be my ruin, both personally and professionally. Is it really worth it? My logical brain leaps onto its soapbox and starts shaking its head. No, no, no, it says. Cut this shit out.
But my body thinks differently.
The feeling that’s been lingering in my chest since that evening at Naomi’s apartment back in Austin officially has a name after last night. And it’s not desire or lust or horniness…although I’m certainly feeling all those th ings.
No. The feeling is hope.
This woman has me thinking maybe I'm not a lost cause after all. That maybe the quiet, happy home life I’ve always dreamed of is possible.
That maybe someone could love me.
I’ve never admitted out loud, or even to myself, that I’m unlovable. I know in a logical sense it’s not true. My mother loves me. The guys love me. My employees have a respectful adoration toward me that’s some flavor of love.
But the warm, intoxicating, all-consuming kind of love? Love that fills the holes in your heart and makes you want to spend the rest of your days keeping the car filled with gas and the cap on the toothpaste? That kind of love always seemed like it was meant for everyone but me.
When I was younger, I searched for what was missing about me. What I needed to improve or purge to be able to connect with a woman at that level.
I never found it.
Eventually, I came to the silent conclusion, never admitted to anyone, not even to myself, that my dream was just impossible. That, for whatever reason, I was incompatible with love.
Everyone liked me. I was everyone’s friend. I was a great boss.
I just wasn’t husband material.
Until now.
I know it’s stupid to have decided, after one night together and a completely inappropriate porn texting session, that I’m somehow fit to be a husband. And it’s not even that I’m really thinking that. It's just…
A woman likes me.
A woman wants me.
And it’s a woman I can see myself being with. I did, as a matter-of-fact. When I sat in her kitchen in Austin, it felt like a premonition of some kind. That I was seeing my own future, as crazy as that sounds.
Hell, this whole thing sounds crazy.
Is crazy.
But I’d rather burn alive than give it up.
Sam: Send me another one.
Naomi: You waited too long. I’m dressed now.
Sam: Get undressed.
Naomi: I thought you were working.
Sam: I am.
Naomi: Alone in your office with the door closed?
I glance up at the door, which is cracked just enough for me to see the teal hallway outside. My door is always open. It’s a promise I make to my employees.
One that might have to change a bit.
They can knock, right?
I get up and walk over, closing it as quietly as I can before returning to my seat.
It’s still unlocked. Anyone could stroll in at any time. But it feels different. I pick my phone back up.
Sam: Yup.
Naomi: Prove it.
I laugh out loud at her text, even as the meaning sends chills down my spine.
Sam: You asking for a dick pic, princess?
Naomi: God, you say the sexiest things.
Another laugh bursts out of me, but it fades away as I start to consider.
Sam: I don’t know if that’s a good idea.
Naomi: You’ve quite enjoyed my bad ideas so far…
I set the phone on my desk and glance down at the tent in my pants. The one that seems to respond to the sound of my phone vibrating these days.
Can I really take it out and shoot a picture of it? Right here in my office?
A sound out in the hallway makes me jump an inch out of my chair, and I sit for a long moment, still as a statue, waiting for the door to fly open.
It never does.
Eventually I regain the ability to breathe, but it comes with the renewed ability to think clearly.
There’s no way.
But what if…
I climb to my feet, adjusting myself in my pants just in case, and make my way over to the door. I stand with my back pressing against it and look down at the phone in my hands.
Then I look up toward the corners of the ceiling, scanning the room for security cameras that I know damn well aren’t there. I scan my bookcase for teddy bears with hidden nanny cams like a madman.
When I look back down at my phone, I break out in a cold sweat.
Sam: I can’t. I tried.
Naomi: That’s okay!
Naomi: Don’t freak out.
I smile as I’m able to take the first breath in what feels like ten minutes. I let the oxygen calm me. She gets me.
I’m so fucked.
Naomi: Try this—slide one hand down and touch yourself over your pants, then take a selfie of just your face.
The thought of doing what she asks makes my heart race but doesn’t induce nearly as much panic as the thought of getting caught in my office with my pants down and phone in my hand.
Slowly, I slide one hand down until it’s cupping the bulge in my pants. It’s all I can do to hold in a gasp as the screaming nerves finally get some attention. I grip myself firmly and open the camera app.
Switching to front facing, my own face fills the screen. I can’t watch myself do this, so I close my eyes and hit the shutter button.
When I'm brave enough to reopen them, the image waiting for me takes my breath away once more.
It’s my face, but the expression there isn’t one I’ve seen in the mirror. My eyes are closed with my lip clenched just a bit between my teeth, revealing a flash of white. My cheeks are flushed, but it looks good on me. I look healthy and alive. I look happy, as if underneath that mask of poorly restrained desire is a smile. A genuine smile.
I hit send quickly before I can talk myself out of it.
Naomi: Damn.
Sam: I don’t know that guy.
Naomi: You keep saying that.
Sam: It’s true. I’m predictable. That’s my personality. No surprises here. Except with you.
Naomi: Good.
She’s right, of course, but I can’t help the flare of anger that rises in me at her flippant response.
Sam: Being predictable and trustworthy is what makes me such a good manager. It’s what makes me a good boss and a good friend. It’s what makes me…me. I don’t know what all these surprises mean for my life.
Naomi: You’re wrong about that, Sam. What makes you a good boss and great friend is your big heart.And that will always be there, inside, no matter what other changes you make.
Sam: You don’t know me well enough to say that.
I regret the text the second I hit send. I stand with my jaw clenched tight, waiting for her to respond so I can follow up with an apology.
The text bubble never comes.
I walk back over to my desk and sink heavily into my chair.
Sam: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that and never should have said it. This whole thing has me a little on edge.
My office door swings open so fast it hits the opposite wall with a bang that makes me jump and drop my phone to the desk.
“Why’s your door closed?” Dom demands.
I take a deep breath to keep from screaming at him for such a rude interruption. The last thing I want is to act out of character and draw attention to myself.
“The air conditioning kicked on a second ago, and it closed. I was just getting up to reopen it.”
Dom crosses his arms over his chest. I’m dying to read his expression, but if I look straight at him for too long, he’ll read mine.
“Is that so?”
“What’s up, Dom?” I feel like regular Sam would just brush off his hostility and offer my help, so that’s what I do.
Even though I’m no longer regular Sam.
“Just wanted to check on that produce delivery.”
“It’s on the way. You could’ve texted me.”
His eyes narrow as I toss out the accusation, and I realize my mistake right away.
“I would have texted anyone else, but you.” He takes a step forward, still looking pointedly at me. “You don’t always have your phone on you. So I always walk over here to talk to you.”
I nod. “You’re right, and I appreciate that.” I keep my tone calm. Soothing the aggressive animal in my office.
“But you seem to have your phone on you more now.”
He knows. My entire life is about to crumble into the sand. I try to keep my cool. “Yeah, I was just…working. ”
Dom cocks his head to the side. “Worked through breakfast, I assume?”
I relax slightly and manage a small smile. “You caught me.”
He just rolls his eyes, turning back toward the door. “Come down to Raft a few minutes early, and I’ll make you something. The last thing you need to do is show up to the tasting hungry.”
He walks out without waiting for my answer, knowing damn well I’m not going to turn down a meal cooked for me personally by our head chef.
The guy has a gruff exterior, but he’s not all bad. He’s still a nurturer at heart. All chefs are.
I blow out the breath I’ve been holding and drop my head to my hands. Nurturer or not, he’s going to freaking kill me.
My phone buzzes and I jump to grab it, all worry over the interaction with Dom gone instantly as I hurry to read how Naomi responded.
Naomi: I want to know you.
I drop the phone and close my eyes. It might have been better if she responded in anger, telling me what a dick I was and that she never wanted to speak to me again. This? This I don’t know what to do with.
I don’t get a full minute to process before my phone buzzes again.
Naomi: If you’ll let me.