Just One Reason, page 15
“What is it?”
“Never mind. I don’t want to ask.”
Sam held her gaze for a moment. “I couldn’t make the decision be about us. About if I had a chance with you. If it was only that, I would have stayed.”
Terri shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
They finished their sandwiches in silence, though the thoughts in Terri’s mind wouldn’t stay quiet. Sam got up to toss the foil wraps, and when she came back to the bench, she sat a little closer to Terri and pointed out some seals playing in the surf. After a few minutes, she set her hand on Terri’s thigh. Under other circumstances, Sam’s move might have felt annoyingly possessive. One night of sex and Sam didn’t get to act as if they were a couple. But her hackles didn’t go up this time, and instead of pushing Sam’s hand off, she traced her fingers. She wanted Sam’s hand to still smell of her.
“You have nice hands.”
“You have a nice tongue.” Sam’s tone lightened the mood. “How long do I get you?”
“I should probably have already left.” But Terri didn’t get up. When Sam turned her hand palm-side up, Terri traced that side too, distractedly following the lines as she wondered what Sam would say if she told her how the word “submissive” had done something to her. One word had triggered a whole cascade of emotions. She wanted to be submissive to Sam. But what did that say about her?
“Stay.”
Terri met Sam’s gaze. “Why?”
“Because you don’t want to leave and I don’t want you to go. Plus it’s the perfect day to go to the beach and you’re already here.”
Terri looked out at the water. The tide was coming up, and in the short time they’d been sitting on the bench, the sandy beach had nearly disappeared. Dark brown rocks dotted the water below. If she left, she’d never get Sam out of her mind. Never. “Do you want to know the real reason I came?”
Sam waited for her to go on.
“After I talked to Weiss, I went to see Reed. I told her I thought you’d already made the decision, regardless of what you’d said to Weiss… She told me to get in my car and drive until I found you. She said it wasn’t my job to convince you to come back, but that unless I had sex with you, I’d never get you out of my mind.”
“Think we should tell Reed that’s not how it works when you have good sex?”
Terri smiled. “You’re so damn cocky.”
“For good reason.”
The dare-you-to-tell-me-I’m-wrong look on her face sent a shiver through Terri.
“So you really already knew?”
“A little part of me was holding out hope,” Terri said. “I still am.”
After a minute Sam brought Terri’s hand up to her lips. She kissed her knuckles lightly and then let go. “There’s no way having more sex will get you out of my mind, but I’d like it if you stayed. I don’t think it’ll hurt either of us if you spend one more night.”
“It might if I’m lucky.” The sentence slipped out before Terri could censor it, and then once she’d admitted that, she wanted to say the rest of what she was thinking. “I love that you made me sore.”
Sam’s look was sheepish. “I’m sorry if I was too rough—”
“Don’t apologize. It was exactly what I wanted.” She paused. “I like how you are in bed. I like the words you use…how you touch me. And although I’ll deny it if you tell anyone, I like you topping me.”
“I like you being my submissive.”
Terri swallowed. “My submissive” was different than simply being submissive. But damn if Sam’s words hadn’t sent a tremor right to her clit. She wanted to spread herself all over again, beg for Sam’s hand, and do anything to please her. Worried that her sudden need was obvious, she looked down to the waves crashing on the rocks. The sight of it did nothing to cool the blush on her cheeks.
“Can I take you further next time?”
Terri nodded without looking at her. What did Sam have in mind? A nervous excitement filled her body. She wouldn’t ask what Sam was thinking or how long she’d make her wait. Sam had to know that she was at her mercy, but she liked that part of it almost as much as the reward for submitting.
Sam stood up. “Want to go for a walk?”
Terri stopped herself from asking if that walk could be back to the bedroom. “I might need more coffee first. Someone kept me up late.”
“Okay, but we have to walk to that too. My grandma didn’t believe in making coffee at home. She loved cafes.”
“No coffeemaker?”
“Grandma was a little eccentric. Think of a crazy rich beat poet artist that likes to go swimming in the ocean fully dressed and you’ve got a pretty good image in your mind. She and my grandpa were complete opposites.”
Sam held out her hand and Terri clasped it without thinking. It wasn’t that she didn’t have experience holding hands in public—hell, she’d been married twice—but she wasn’t even in a relationship with Sam. So why did it feel so right to hold hands?
No one else they passed on the sidewalk seemed to care that they were holding hands. They turned off the quiet side street and onto a busy thoroughfare. It was Saturday morning, and with the sun shining everyone seemed to be heading to the beach. But Sam led her in the opposite direction. After a few blocks, Sam pointed toward a cafe. She let go of Terri’s hand to open the door, then waved at the barista who looked up and smiled.
The place wasn’t empty, but it was quiet compared to the bustle outside. A locals-only spot, Terri decided.
“Can we get a refill?” Sam handed the barista Terri’s empty mug and then set her own mug in a bin of dishes to be washed. She stuffed some cash into the jar on the counter, but the barista shook her head.
“You know you can’t pay here.”
“But I can tip.”
The barista mumbled “pain in my ass,” but she smiled as she said it and then went to refill Terri’s coffee. Sam only smiled and Terri wondered how well they knew each other. Sam hadn’t been in town long, but maybe she made friends quick. Ignoring a pang of jealousy, Terri turned her attention to the artwork that covered the walls. In addition to dozens of paintings, sculptures and tapestries filled the spaces in between. Every available nook had something to notice.
“I love all the artwork in here. It’s the kind of place you could spend all day in.”
“Thank you for the compliment. I aim to please and take Yelp reviews.” The barista smiled. “I’m Danielle, by the way. Any friend of Sam’s is mine too.” She handed Terri her refilled coffee and then pointed to the table with cream and sugar.
“Thank you.” Terri smiled. She wished the coffee shop she frequented had staff half as nice. If she lived close, she wouldn’t bother making her own coffee either.
“Some of my grandma’s work is still up here,” Sam said. “I can point it out to you if you’d like…”
“I’d like that.”
“Make sure she takes you upstairs to see her work too,” Danielle added.
“You have some of your photos here?”
Sam grimaced. “Yes, but you don’t want to see them.”
“Of course she does,” Danielle said. “You show her or I will.”
Terri smiled at Sam’s meek look. It was nice to know that at least sometimes she could be made to behave. When she went to add cream, Danielle cornered Sam.
“You owe me new pictures. I sold out of the ones you hung last month in the first two days they went up. And I think you should charge more. You could make a killing if you actually—”
“I’ll get you something soon. Promise.”
Danielle huffed as she turned back to the counter. Terri could tell she wasn’t actually mad however. Sam frustrated her. Apparently it was a common feeling. Terri walked over and Sam reached for her hand.
“Photos?”
“My grandma’s paintings first. I want to show you one of my favorites. Danielle agreed not to sell it, but I don’t think she’d let me take it home either.”
At first glance, the painting was simple—a kid kneeling by a sand castle. In the background, the sun set over the surf and the waves were lit with gold. The longer she studied the painting, the curve of the hand around the turret held her attention. She found herself wanting to protect the castle from the waves as much as the kid did. “Is this you?”
“No. That’s my father.” Sam swiped her finger along the top of the frame, sweeping away the dust. A plaque on the wall listed the title of the painting as “Sandcastle” by Mary Ellen Samuels.
“But it was one of the last things she painted. She used an old photograph of my dad… I like this one too.” Sam gestured to the next painting.
Work from several local artists hung on display all over the walls, but Terri was quickly partial to Mary Ellen Samuels’ paintings. She liked the subtlety—the beauty in each painting wasn’t the grandness of the cliffs or the expanse of the ocean but something small like the child’s hand or the crack in a seashell. “Are any of your grandmother’s paintings for sale?”
“Everything is except for the sandcastle. My dad hasn’t even seen it.”
“Why not?”
“He doesn’t get over here often… Anyway, thanks for humoring me and looking at her stuff. It’s good, right?”
“She should have been famous.”
“She was to me.”
Terri was caught by Sam’s words. She wondered if Mary Ellen Samuels had appreciated her biggest fan.
“Want to go on that beach walk now?”
Terri shook her head. “You haven’t shown me your stuff yet.”
“I thought maybe you’d forget that part.”
“No chance. Come on, I want to see your work.” Terri glanced at Danielle and then at the other patrons. No one was looking their way. She stepped close enough to touch Sam but kept her hands to herself. Contact would only make resisting her harder. “Should I say ‘please’? You know I will.”
“I do like it when you say ‘please.’”
Terri leaned closer and whispered the word into Sam’s ear. Saying it in the middle of a coffee shop gave her a secret thrill and the look of desire on Sam’s face was all the reward she needed.
“You say ‘please’ so nicely,” Sam murmured. She clasped Terri’s hand again and led the way to the back of the coffee shop where a narrow staircase was cordoned off.
Unclipping the rope with a closed sign, Sam said, “The ones of mine that Danielle usually sells on the main level are more G-rated. Surfers and ocean scenes. There’s a reason the others are kept upstairs.”
“Now I’m officially intrigued.”
Sam started up the stairs. “Keep in mind, I shot all of these in my early twenties.”
“Why should I keep that in mind?”
“You’ll see.”
They reached the top of the stairs and Sam stepped to the side. Terri looked at the wall in front of them and her jaw nearly hit the ground. First off, the woman was gorgeous. Second, aside from an open book that she’d strategically set across her breasts, she was entirely naked. And life-sized. The black and white photo covered most of the distance from the ceiling to the floor and easily measured three feet wide. “Holy shit.”
Sam scratched her head. “Is that good or bad?”
Terri didn’t answer. Hell, she’d let Sam stew for a minute after she’d pulled the rug out from under her with this. They were in a room clearly used for small concerts. Chairs and tables were set around a raised stage with sound equipment and a microphone. Along with the woman with the book over her breasts, there were four other photographs, all with a plaque listing Elizabeth Samuels as the photographer. One in color—a landscape shot of a surfer paddling on a board with a wave cresting behind her—but all the rest black and white nudes. Two naked men, two naked women. Not all beautiful but each one striking.
Terri walked around the room without saying anything, stopping in front of each picture. Sam didn’t follow her. Instead, she went over to the raised stage and sat down. But Terri knew she was watching her.
In each shot there was a book, but Terri couldn’t figure out the theme. “So I’m guessing you picked these particular books for a reason?”
“They’re all banned.” Sam added, “It was a statement. Everything’s a statement when you’re twenty-two.”
“You took all these when you were twenty-two?”
“For a senior project. I double majored—art and biology.”
“You didn’t have a lot of free time.”
“No… But art was my life. The bio degree was to make my grandfather happy. Back then I was still trying to impress him.”
Terri had circled back to the first photograph and the largest in the set. She touched Sam’s name on the wall plaque and then took a step back. “You have your grandmother’s eye.”
“What do you mean?”
Terri motioned to the woman’s clenched fist. “This. It’s not what you notice first, but it’s what you remember.” At first she’d stared at the woman’s exposed crotch, and then she’d noticed the book, of course. Probably Sam had intended that, but clearly that wasn’t all she wanted the viewer to appreciate. Although the woman was seemingly relaxed, reclining on a bed with the sheets casually rumpled around her, the white of her knuckles stood out. “These aren’t for sale?”
“Danielle would never let them go. People call this place Banned Books Coffeehouse for a reason—although I doubt any of the tourists that drop in downstairs ever figure it out. There’s no books anywhere and they only let people up here when they have a concert or it’s open mic night. I keep telling Danielle she should set up a shelf of banned books. Like a little free library.”
“You’re really good.”
Sam didn’t respond.
As cocky as she was about sex, apparently that confidence didn’t cross to other parts of her life. Terri walked over to the stage where Sam sat. “Thank you for showing me.” She held out her hand, but Sam didn’t take it. After a moment she dropped it to her side and exhaled. “I need some ground rules.”
“For what?”
“You take my hand like it’s no big deal. But when I try and hold yours…” Terri breathed out. How could Sam be so difficult and so much of everything she’d ever wanted at the exact same moment? “Do I beg for that too?”
“No—of course not.” Sam shook her head. “I’m sorry. I got lost in my thoughts.”
“I’ve seen that look in your eyes at the hospital. Like you were somewhere else. I assumed then that it was because you didn’t want to be there. Do you want to be somewhere else right now?”
“Not at all. But if I’m being honest, a little part of me is still worried I’m making a mistake.”
“You’re a little late admitting that.”
“I know. But this is the first time my two worlds have collided. With you here—in this room—all of a sudden it’s all real. It’s the right decision, but it’s hard.” Sam reached for Terri’s hand as she stood up. “You can take my hand whenever you want.”
“Except in the bedroom?” Terri arched an eyebrow.
“Then I like being in charge.”
They were close enough to kiss, and the feel of Sam’s body near hers made it hard to even think, let alone talk. Sam was a heartbreak waiting to happen. She knew that. And she should have left last night. As much as she wanted to pretend it was only the chemistry and the hot sex that had convinced her to stay, she was drawn to more than that.
“I like you in charge. But I’m not sure you know what you’re doing.”
“I know what I’m doing with you,” Sam returned.
Sam’s eyes held hers. She leaned close and met Terri’s lips. The room where they stood, the sounds of the cafe below, everything else slipped away. Terri moved against her, parting her lips so Sam could deepen the kiss. Her knees went weak as Sam caressed her neck. It wasn’t the fire of last night’s kiss. This was sweet and tender and threatened to undo her.
When Sam pulled back, Terri nearly begged for another kiss. But she watched silently as Sam turned toward the stairs and started down.
Terri took one last look around the room. She didn’t want Sam to be an artist if that pulled her away from medicine and from the world where a relationship could actually happen. And, yet, now she understood. And she wanted her more than ever. This Sam was someone she could fall hard for.
Chapter Nineteen
“You okay?” Sam knew what she’d said in the cafe had upset Terri, had made her pull back, but she wasn’t sure how to fix it. Despite the fact that they were walking right next to each other, she seemed miles away now.
“I’m fine. Still getting over that kiss.” Terri’s tone was light. “And I’m hoping it was a promise of more to come.”
“It was.” Sam didn’t believe her entirely, but she understood the deflection. Outside, with the sun shining on a beautiful morning, she didn’t want to restart a tense conversation either.
“Actually, I’m not totally fine.”
Sam waited. When Terri didn’t go on, she said, “What is it?”
“I can’t seem to accept that you’re quitting. You’re a good doctor, Sam. And I know I need to let it go, but I can’t… You’ve got less than two years of the residency left. The photography has to be on hold until that’s over, but then you could swing both. You’re enough of a rock star that I know you could make it work.”
Sam nodded slowly. “I kept telling myself that. And I think I could make it work—if I actually wanted to be a doctor. I’m not really having second thoughts. I’m processing everything I’m giving up. And I wish you weren’t part of that.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I’d stayed in Sacramento, I think I would have had a chance for a real relationship with you. Eventually.” Sam caught Terri’s eye and smiled. “But now we’ll be in two different worlds, three hours apart. I’m sure you’re probably thinking—why start something?”
Sam hoped Terri would argue. When she didn’t, she continued, “I’m hoping you’ll consider it anyway. I know you’re upset that I’m quitting, but you’re the only part of the last six years of my life that I don’t want to lose.”
