Free Love Everlasting (Isle of Hope series Book 2) by Julie Lessman Page A

closing her eyes while she held her breath and prayed he wouldn’t come in.
    She squealed and jumped when something touched her head, jolting her so much, she toppled into the corner, legs sprawled and pride as flat as her butt against the wall.
    Right next to a pile of poop.
    Which pretty much described her sentiments as Sam Cunningham grinned from above, leaning on the stall while he sucked on a straw. “Hey.”
    Giving up the ghost, she went slack with a groan, eyes closed as her head clunked against the wood. “What do you want, Sam?” she whispered, realizing she’d have to give him his say before she gave him the boot.
    “I’m not sure, Angel Eyes, but I think I may be a tad wounded that you’d rather hide in a smelly stable than talk to me.”
    “Sorry, Doc, but I just prefer this type of manure.”
    “Ouch.” Setting his milkshake on the ledge, he rounded the wall with a husky chuckle, extending his hand to help her up. “Come on, Shannon, don’t sugarcoat it—why don’t you say what you really mean?”
    “I’d like to,” she muttered, ignoring his palm to pop up on her own. Huffing out a noisy sigh, she proceeded to brush bits of hay from her jeans.
    He stilled her with a gentle hand to her shoulder. “Me too,” he said softly, the humility in his tone drawing her gaze. “And if you don’t mind, I’ll go first.” He’d ditched the Superman coat, so he slid his hands into the pockets of his Dockers while he took a step back, shoulders hunched as he stared at his feet. “I’ve … been wanting to apologize to you ever since that night. I was a jerk, Shannon, and I’m really sorry.” He finally looked up, meeting her gaze with a solemn one of his own. “And I’d” —he cuffed the back of his neck while a knot jogged in his throat— “I’d like to be friends if you’ll let me because I really enjoyed talking to you.”
    She cocked her head, lips flat. “Sure you did.”
    “I did,” he said with a crooked smile. He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Well, most of it anyway, so I’d like to do it again. You know, shoot the breeze so I can pick your brain as a woman, maybe to glean some advice on how to get Jazz back? So, what do you say, O’Bryen? Friends?”
    Her heart softened. And then her mind went into alert mode. Sam was the kind of guy who would be a great friend, she was certain, but he’d ruined that possibility when he’d made a pass in the front seat of her car. Not just because she didn’t trust him, but because she didn’t trust herself. That pass, that kiss had ignited something in her that made her want far more than a friendship, and for her, the temptation just wasn’t worth the risk. “Apology accepted,” she said quietly, “and we can certainly be friends, Sam, but …” Her heart squeezed at the look of vulnerability in his eyes, so foreign to the player she knew him to be. It took her back to the night he’d disarmed her in his kitchen with his sincerity and candor, making inroads into her heart that were never meant to be. “As far as shooting the breeze …” She paused, not wanting to hurt him, but not willing to give him the chance to hurt her either. “I don’t think Jack would like that, and frankly, I’m not comfortable with it either.”
    He cocked a hip, hands perched on his thighs and a pinch in his brow. “You don’t trust me,” he said with a hint of hurt, his words a statement rather than a question.
    Not even a little. “I … just don’t think a friendly relationship would be wise.” She tried to temper her words with a gentle smile, fighting the urge to just blurt out the truth like before.
    Slashing a hand through his hair, he walked away, blasting out his frustration with a noisy breath before facing her once again. “Come on, Shan, I make one lousy move, and suddenly I’m a danger to your health?”
    Yes.
    He forged on, apparently stirred by her lack of response. “Look, I’ll admit I tend to get pushy when I