and they werenât going to be.
âTalk to me, Anna. Donât let it end like this.â
âOh, God,â she whispered.
When she still didnât pick up, he muttered something unintelligible and hung up.
âYeah,â Tula said, every word coated in sarcasm, âI can see why you donât want to talk to him. Sounds like a heartless bastard.â
âYouâre not helping,â Anna told her.
âThis time,â her friend said sagely, âI think youâre going to have to help yourself.â
Â
Sam glared at the damn phone as if Anna not speaking to him were its fault instead of his own. â Idiot, â he muttered thickly, shoving one hand through his hair. Heâd done nothing but think about Anna for the last few days. Their last argument was on constant replay in his thoughts. And every time he relived it, he saw the shock on her face and the hurt in her eyes. He still wasnât sure how the damn argument had erupted and heâd like nothing better than to step back in time and bite back the words that had hurt her so badly.
Why the hell had he said something so stupid? He knew damn well that she wasnât after his money. He had been convinced of that as soon as he saw how much time and effort and artistry sheâd poured into the mural she had painted for him. No mercenary woman would have cared so much about doing a good job. She would have come in, slapped some color on a wall and cashed his check.
But Anna had pride. Integrity.
And his heart, damn it.
He poured a Scotch and took a seat on the sofa. TheChristmas tree was lit up and soft jazz pumped through the stereo. It would have been perfect, he thought. If Anna were there.
Instead, there was a hollow spot in his chest that he couldnât see being filled anytime soon. God, if he had to live the rest of his life with this emptiness insideâ¦
âSitting alone in the dark?â Garret said when he came into the room. âNot a good sign, Sam.â
âItâs not dark,â he protested lamely. âThe tree lights are on.â
âYeah.â Garret grabbed a beer from the wet bar, then sat down in a chair close to his brother. He took a long drink and said, âSo, you want to tell me whatâs eating you?â
âWhat?â Sam shot his brother a look.
âI was gone like a week or so, not years. Youâreâ¦â he tipped his head to one side and studied Sam ââ¦different, somehow. Still mean as hell, of course, but thereâs something else, too.â
This was a rare moment, Sam thought. His younger brother was noticing something outside himself. And maybe it was a sign that the younger Hale brother was finally taking a step toward maturity. God, he hoped so. Because Sam knew what he had to do.
Heâd missed Anna like he would have an arm or a leg. Somehow, in the last couple of weeks, she had become as necessary to him as breathing. And he couldnât live without her. So he had to tell his brother that not only wasnât Garret going to get Anna back, but also that Sam was in love with her himself.
Love.
Wasnât the first time heâd thought that word over the last few days. But it was the first time heâd welcomed it. And admitting the truth, if only to himself, made himfeelâ¦good. He looked at his brother and knew that what he was about to say could cost him the relationship. But he had no choice. He had to try to make things right with Anna.
âActually,â Sam said, setting his glass of Scotch aside. He sat up, and braced his forearms on his thighs. Looking directly into his brotherâs eyes he said, âThere is something else.â
Garret paled at the suddenly serious tone. âAre you okay? Youâre not sick are you?â
âNo.â Sam laughed shortly and realized it was the first time heâd even smiled since losing Anna. That thought steeled him for what came next.