Going for It

“I was a jerk. I should have talked to you about my plans, okay?” He became frazzled. “You’re right, I was only thinking of myself at the time. But I realize what a mistake that was. These past two days have made me realize just how much you mean to me, Sam.”


Again she attempted to push his hand away, but he simply replaced it with his mouth. She gasped, trying to back away, but he kept her prisoner with his kiss. A feeling of pure rightness slithered through his body. He knew she felt it too, how perfectly their lips molded to each other, how hot the fire burned between them. With a strangled groan, she pushed his chest and broke the kiss.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to sleep with me,” she murmured, taking a shaky step back.

Panic skittered up his spine. Her words sounded too final, too determined. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true. Sleeping with you was a mistake.”

“We both know you don’t mean that.”

He reached out, but she sidestepped his attempt to take her hand. “I do mean it.” She blew out a breath. “We had some incredible sex, but it’s over now. I hope you enjoy running the Diamond as much as I did.”

She brushed past him and flew into the bedroom. He wanted to follow her, but instead he stood rooted in place, trying to find the words to make this all better. He had to tell her that he loved her. Had to make one last attempt at making her see he’d never regretted anything more than what he had done to her.

She returned to the living room, her purse in hand, and headed for the front door. Her back was turned to him.

When she didn’t turn around, he cleared his throat, knowing he couldn’t let her go before he told the truth—something he should’ve done all along. “I love you, Sam,” he said softly.

She faltered. Just for a moment. He saw her shoulders sag a little, heard her soft intake of breath. Hope bloomed inside his chest. Please, please, don’t let her leave. He waited, prayed that she’d turn around, say the words back, hurl herself into his arms.

But she didn’t.

Her shoulders stiffened, her back straightened. Without answering, she slung her purse strap over her shoulder and took a step to the door. “No need to lock up before you leave. You own this place now, remember?”





Chapter Six


Three weeks later, Riley glanced around the empty bar and released a slow breath. The construction crew was gone for the night and they’d left the place a mess. The walls had been completely gutted, the counter and booths gone, the floor covered with sawdust and grime. The renovations were tedious, but he knew they needed to be done. He planned on turning the Diamond into the most frequented sports bar in the city, and was even eliminating the upstairs apartment so it could be used as the billiards room.

Breaking down the walls in the apartment had been tough, to say the least. He couldn’t even go in there without thinking about Sam. Without remembering the two nights they’d spent tangled up on that mattress on the floor, kissing, touching, making love.

Being downstairs wasn’t too pleasant either. Everywhere he looked, he saw Sam. Her presence was imprinted in every inch of the room, in the walls, on the floor, everywhere. He remembered the first time he’d walked in here and laid eyes on the gorgeous blonde. She’d been chatting with one of her waitresses, but glanced over when he entered. The appreciation in her eyes had been unmistakable.

He remembered he’d left the bar that night with another woman. What a mistake that had been. He wondered if things would’ve turned out differently if he’d just admitted his attraction to Sam two years ago, instead of fighting it. Instead of hopping into bed with her at the last possible second while keeping the truth from her.

She’d been gone for almost a month now, and it troubled him just how much he missed her. For two years she’d been the only steady female in his life, and now that she wasn’t here, he realized just how important her friendship had been to him.

Fuck, he really was an idiot, wasn’t he?

“Mr. Scott?”

The male voice jolted him from his thoughts and put a halt to his self-pity session. He glanced up and saw Brad, the foreman of the crew, emerging from the back hallway that led up to the second-floor apartment.

“What’s up?” Riley asked the older man.

Brad reached into the back pocket of his paint-spattered jeans. “One of my guys found this in the upstairs bedroom earlier today.” He held up a familiar silver necklace.

Pain sliced into him. He stared at the dangly silver “B”. Bethany. Sam’s mother. He remembered she’d been wearing the necklace the night before she’d walked out on him, and in her haste to flee from his vicinity, she must have left it behind.