Pas de Deux: Part Two (A Cross and Pointe Novel Book 2) (32 page)

Her jaw clenched as she stared at the bouquet. “Those are beautiful, but...”

“But, what? Talk to me, Sam.”

She raked both hands through her hair, shaking her head furiously. “I'm so confused, Cillian.”

“Sam—”

She held up a hand, her pained eyes cutting over to him. “I have to know something. Did you leak my story to the press?”

“
No.
Hell, no. I would never do that to you.”

“If you didn't do it, then why weren't you there for me, for the trial?”

Cillian clenched his jaw. “I—I got some bad information, that you didn't want me there. I couldn't get a hold of you, you weren't replying to my texts or returning my calls—”

“I lost my phone.”

“But I didn't know that then. So, not hearing from you—then hearing that you didn't want me around—I thought I was giving you the space you wanted.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Maybe I did want space, but I really needed you there that day.”

Cillian reached for her hand. “I'm so sorry. I wanted to be there for you.”

“And then Carl showed up instead of you, making me believe that you were really guilty—it was too much.”

A tsunami of anger roiled through him at the mention of Carl. “He's a fucking piece of shit. I've dealt with him. I'm sorry he took advantage of you like that, when you were already down. I hate that it happened—that it kept me from being there for you.”

“If you knew you didn't do anything, then why didn't you contact me sooner, Cillian? When we got back to Boston?” She wouldn't look at him, but she let him hold her hand.

He sighed. “I tried, but I was so—so fucked up that I thought I was doing you a favor by staying away from you. I felt like shit that I didn't protect you—that I broke my promise to you. I told you you'd be safe, and you weren't. I thought the best thing for me to do was stay away from you. I was afraid I'd hurt you worse.”

Sammi pulled her hand from his. “You did hurt me worse.” Her voice shook. “I was angry. I was angry and hurt and confused, but, Cillian—I needed you. I needed you at the trial. I needed you the other night when Carl—” She broke off abruptly, her eyes shooting up to him.

“I know.” He shook his head. “Baz told me what he did to you that night. And I'm sorry. But he's never going to bother you again. I've made sure of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He's not at the gym anymore—it's a long story, but I kicked him out. That's partially why I'm here—to tell you that, and to tell you I'm sorry.”

Sammi swallowed hard. “What's the other part? Why else are you here?”

He met her gaze steadily. “Because I can't stay away from you.”

“Why, Cillian?” Her whisper broke his heart, along with the pleading look in her dark eyes. “Why?”

“I'm in love with you.” He pulled on her arms to bring her closer, and sighed in relief when she let him wrap his arms around her. “I love you, Sammi.”

She released a long, shaky breath, her hands gripping handfuls of his uniform jacket. “Cillian—”

“I'm sorry about everything, Sam, and I really want us to have another chance. Please. So much has changed over the past week, so much good, but I can't enjoy any of it because I don't have you.”

“Cillian—”

He nuzzled the side of her face. “Not that I want to pressure you if you're not ready. If you need more space, tell me. I just—”

“Will you shut up?” she whispered, cupping his face. She half-smiled up at him, and when he saw the dimple, his heart soared. “I'm trying to say I love you back. Okay? This isn't easy for me. I've—I've never said that to anyone before.”

“Try it again.”

She bit her lip, and he could feel the tremor in her hands. “I love you, Cillian.”

He pulled her close and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. They held on tight for what seemed like hours, gently rocking, touching. Then Cillian drew back slightly, running a hand through her hair, and tipped her head back. He leaned in, his lips a breath away from hers, waiting. Waiting.

Sammi closed the gap, pressing her lips to his, her hands fisting into his jacket.

Cillian moved his lips slowly with hers; it was everything he needed, had been waiting for. Being with her again was sweeter than anything that had happened since the tournament. Better than winning, better than getting rid of Carl, better than getting the gym back. He had her again. And she had him.

He pulled back, his lips smacking gently with hers. “Can we try the me-and-you thing again?”

She stroked his cheek with her fingertips, and nodded. “Only if you promise never to call it the 'me-and-you thing'.”

He chuckled. “I didn't want to be presumptuous in calling you my girlfriend.”

She smiled shyly at his chest. “I wouldn't mind that title.”

“It's all yours. Only yours.”

“I'm a little scared,” she whispered.

“Me, too.” Cillian brushed his lips against her forehead. “But I will never intentionally hurt you. Can you trust me enough to believe that?”

Sammi nodded. “And—if things get hard, I won't shut you out, like I did.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Her fingertips traced his lips. “Now, what?”

“We just live.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her lips gently. “And we just love each other. Think we can do that?”

She wrapped her arms around him tighter, and kissed him back.

“We can do that.”

“Hey, there she is. The dancin' queen.”

Sammi rolled her eyes, shaking her head, as she and Cillian walked into the lobby. Her whole family was gathered there, and burst into a little smattering of applause.

“C'mon, guys,” she mumbled. It took several long moments for everyone to get their hugs with her, congratulating her.

Carmela wrapped her arms around her. “My beautiful, beautiful girl.” She smoothed back Sammi's hair, her eyes glistening. “You were outstanding, Samantha. You took my breath away.”

Sammi swallowed hard against the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. “Thanks, Ma.”

Joe smiled at his youngest, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “You were incredible, honey.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, then glanced at Cillian. Sammi looked between him and her father.

Ah, shit. No bloodshed, please, by the Holy Virgin.
She refrained from crossing herself.

“Cillian. You made it.”

“Yes, sir,” Cillian said. “I wouldn't have missed it.”

“Listen, uh—” Joe sighed. “I'm glad you're here. I wanted to tell you—I was a little hard on you the other day, at the café.”

“No harder than I would have been, if I had a kid who'd gone through the same thing.”

“Still.” Joe shook his head and glanced at his wife and two older daughters. “It's been brought to my attention that I have a tendency to be a pushy prick when I get upset.”

“And that's a quote,” Toni said, folding her arms.

“Anyway, I'm glad to see the two of you back together.” Joe reached out to place a hand on Cillian's shoulder. “I think you're good for my daughter. And if you make her happy, then I'm happy.”

This was one rare moment where Sammi didn't mind being discussed as if she wasn't there. She looked at Joe, her eyes stinging with tears. “I am happy, Dad.”

“I'm glad.” Joe glanced at Cillian. “You take care of her.”

“Always, sir.”

“Because I got ways to make you disappear if you don't.”

Cillian bowed his head, trying to smother a laugh. “I know you do, sir.”

“All right.” Joe held out a hand, and Cillian shook it firmly. “You're a good man, Cillian, and I'm sorry that everything happened for you the way it did.”

“Not to worry, sir. Everything ended up bein' put right.”

“What do you mean?” Sammi asked.

“He won,” Niq explained, glancing at Cillian. “Jazz told me when I called to see if she knew how I could get a hold of you.”

Sammi's mouth dropped open and she looked up at Cillian. He shrugged sheepishly and nodded.

“Wilcox made it right,” he said.

“Oh, my God!” Sammi launched herself into his arms. “Congratulations—why didn't you tell me?”

He flashed his old half-smile. “Had more important things to talk about.”

“I guess so—wait.” She snapped her head to look at Niq. “What do you mean,
Jazz
told you that? She didn't say anything to me. She knew?”

“Obviously, brainiac, if she told me.”

“And why the hell did you call looking to get a hold of Cillian?”

Niq shrugged defensively. “He needed to be here.” She glanced at Cillian, then sighed and put her hand on his shoulder. “And you needed to know that you were wanted, Cillian.”

“Thanks.” He met her gaze and smiled.

Joe folded his arms. “How about that. I'm happy for you, son. It wasn't right, what they did.”

“It's all right. Like I said, it all got put right,” Cillian said. “I was able to buy him out this week. I'm the new owner of Ronan's.”

Sammi hugged him again, looking up at him and noting for the first time the proud lift of his chin, the squaring of his shoulders. The confident change in him was obvious, but more than that—he seemed much happier.

God, he's a beautiful man.

He must have felt the hungry heat of her stare, because he glanced down at her, catching her gaze, and then did a double take.

“We got pizza back at the café,” Joe was saying. “Cillian, you're comin' right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Joe clapped him on the shoulder again as everyone began walking toward the exit. “It's good to have you back around.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You don't always have to call me that, you know.”

“I'm too afraid of you to stop, sir.”

Everyone burst out laughing.

“I knew I liked you, son.”

Cillian pulled up to Sammi's apartment late that night. The glow of a good night with friends—with
family
—was still upon him.

But even better than that—I got my girl back.

Sammi leaned her head against the seat's headrest, looking over at him. He reached out to trace the indentation of the dimple in her cheek.

“Come inside,” she said quietly, and his pulse jumped to life, speeding along at breakneck speed.

“Okay,” he replied.

Rocky met them at the door, his tail straight up in the air. He looked up at Sammi expectantly, so she went into the kitchen to feed him. Cillian stood in the living room, breathing in the familiar scent. It smelled like Sammi; it smelled like home.

She crossed the room to his side, slipping her arms around his waist, and he returned the embrace.
It's felt like forever since I've held her. I'm never letting go again.

“Can you lock up?” She looked up at him, her chin on his chest. “Then come to bed.”

She wants me to stay.
Again, his pulse leapt, along with something else below the waist.
Hugging her is not the only thing I've missed...

“Sure.”

He checked the triple-locked door, the sliding glass window that led to her small patio, and then made sure the blinds were drawn and the lights were off. He walked to the bedroom, shutting the door, and then took off his uniform, sliding into her bed in just his boxer-briefs.

Cillian pillowed his head on his arm, listening to the noise of the shower running, then the faucet at the sink as she brushed her teeth. Finally, the bathroom door opened and the light flicked off, and then she crawled under the covers beside him. As she snuggled up to his side and his hand trailed down her body, clothed in a simple cotton nightie, he fought the urge to really touch her like he desperately wanted. But she'd endured an incredibly stressful couple of weeks, and he just wanted her to be able to relax and go to sleep.

When he felt her hand lightly stroke his bare stomach, his traitorous body rushed to respond and he hardened immediately.
So much for sleeping.
He trailed his hand down her back a little further, finding the smooth expanse of her bare bottom below the hem of her nightie and brushing his fingers over it. She shivered a little and pressed her lips into the side of his neck.

That's the spot. And we're off.
He smirked a little at his body's insistence and his complete lack of self-control, turning toward her and rolling her to her back.