Griff woke just after dawn. He’d barely slept at all, but four years of programming wasn’t so easily broken, even after a night full of the best sex of his life. With his wife.
His wife.
Sam lay curled on her side, facing away from him. His arm tucked around her waist, his bigger body wrapped around her as the big spoon, ensuring his dick nestled against the curve of her ass. He considered stroking her to wakefulness, of sinking into her sweet body again as he had so many times last night. She was an addiction, and he’d wanted her again almost as soon as they’d caught their breath. Was it marriage? Love? Or was it simply her?
He’d never woken with a woman before, never felt the urge to start his day making love. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever made love before Samantha. No one had ever mattered like her before. No one had ever made him feel awed and protective and so very lucky.
Content, he pressed a soft kiss to her tattoo. She didn’t stir at the touch, so he settled back against his pillow. She needed sleep, so he’d leave her be and try to get some more shuteye himself.
But his mind wouldn’t turn off.
It was officially tomorrow. The practicalities that had seemed like distant mirages last night could no longer be ignored. She had a flight back to Raleigh this afternoon. Back to the real world life she was living, with grad school and grown-up aspirations. How exactly did he fit into that? They hadn’t discussed any details of how a real marriage would work between them.
She’d be in school for several more years, and he… currently had nothing. No job, no prospects, no clue where to go from here. He could try college on his GI bill, but his grades in high school had never been stellar, even with her help, and he’d never felt like higher education was the right path for him. He had some money saved up, enough to last a while as he looked for some kind of employment. The idea of that hadn’t bothered him when he’d planned this trip. But he hadn’t had a wife then. Hadn’t had anyone depending on him. Not that Sam was anything other than independent and capable of taking care of herself, but he wanted to be able to take care of her. Wanted to be someone she could rely on. Turn to. He wanted to be the man she’d promised that judge that he could be. She deserved nothing less. Hell, she expected nothing less. Her brother was a fucking SEAL. Nobody just fell into that. It was a calling. A duty. A grueling, tough-as-hell track that only the best of the best took.
Jesus.
He wasn’t that guy. Not really. He’d done his duty in the Marines, but he hadn’t pushed himself to be more. He’d counted down the days until the end of his service as if it had been the jail time he’d avoided. As if it was just something else to get through. There was nothing noble in that. Nothing meritorious that showed he’d done anything to be a truly better man.
How long would it take her to realize that she’d been wrong? How long until the strain of an unplanned marriage became too much? How long until she figured out he was a mistake, and she’d been blinded by old affection and lust?
Uncomfortable and needing space, he eased away, rolling out of bed to pace to the window. The sky was edging from gold to blue, on its way to being another beautiful day. But the sight brought him no peace. He was too busy thinking about the future and all the details they hadn’t discussed. There’d be no more buffer of vacation or alcohol, nothing to soften the truth of who he really was.
He couldn’t face disappointing her. Couldn’t watch the change in how she saw him as reality replaced the fantasy she’d built up in her head. The shame of it bowed his shoulders.
Heart aching, he turned to look at Sam, memorizing the way her lashes fanned against her cheek, how her mouth curved into a gentle smile in sleep.
He’d been a fool to think they could do this. To believe they could have this. He’d done nothing to deserve someone like her. But he’d followed impulse, said yes, and kept saying yes even as he’d known deep down that he wasn’t the man for her. Maybe a part of him had been hoping she’d be the one to put on the brakes, so he wouldn’t have to do the hard thing. She’d always been the smart one. The sensible one. He just seemed to be her one true blind spot.
He could be selfish and try to keep her, hoping to outrun his bad decisions. Or he could do the right thing. Put in the work to become that guy she believed in. A man she could be proud of.
He’d just have to give her up to do it.
Sam woke in stages, slowly surfacing as if coming up from an ocean dive. Exhaustion threatened to drag her back under, but the persistent gnawing in her empty belly was stronger. Consciousness brought with it awareness. Her body felt tender and used in the best possible way. She’d lost track of the number of orgasms. Just thinking about them had arousal stirring again. Griff would be okay if he’d turned her into a sex fiend, right?
She stretched and winced. Okay, maybe a soak first before the next round. They could wedge themselves into the tub together. Probably.
Intent on kissing him awake, she rolled over. But the bed was empty. Sam reached anyway, as if he were merely hiding under an invisibility cloak. But the sheets were cool.
She sat up, the covers pooling at her waist. “Griffin?”
He didn’t answer.
Ears straining, she listened for movement in the bathroom. Nothing. A fact she confirmed a few moments later as she dragged herself out of bed.
He wasn’t here.
Confused, and a bit headachy from lack of sleep and the champagne they’d polished off sometime in the night, she checked the clock. Two in the afternoon.
“Shit!” There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d make her flight.
Okay. Okay, fine. They needed to make Griff’s flight arrangements, too. She could reschedule. It was late, far later than she’d meant to be up. Maybe he’d gone in search of food. Her stomach growled at the thought as she began to search for a note.
He’d picked up. The clothes they’d shed on their return were no longer on the floor. Her dress was draped neatly over the desk chair. There was no sign of the suit. Maybe he’d popped out to return it? Probably smart. They’d missed check out already, so there’d be quite a few additional late fees tacked on to their weekend.
Maybe she should grab a shower and pack so she’d be ready to go when he got back. But she stopped in the bathroom, seeing only her toiletries on the counter.
Heart thudding, she moved back into the bedroom, switching on lights as she went. She spotted the tray from the strawberries, and the glasses beside the empty champagne bucket on the TV stand. Crushed rose petals still littered the floor and peeked out from the bedding, and a few of the electric candles still had enough charge to glow. But there was no sign of his duffel bag.
The last vestiges of sleep evaporated, replaced by a sick, thickening dread.
An envelope with her name scrawled across the front leaned against the mirror. Hand shaking, she picked it up, sliding out the contents. The top sheet of hotel stationery was a letter penned to her in his bold, masculine hand.
Dear Samantha,
These last days with you have been the best of my life. I want to emphasize that before I say what I need to say because I know you probably won’t understand what comes next. Last night was beautiful. Special. Like you. I hope I was able to make you feel even a fraction of that. You are a gift I don’t deserve.
A long time ago, you took a chance and made Judge Mosley a promise that I could be something better than I was. You believed in me, saw something no one else did. I didn’t know that you were the reason I got a second chance. I don’t know what would’ve changed if I’d known that back then, but it shames me to say that I didn’t make the most of it. I’m not that guy you see in me. Not yet. But I’m going to keep that promise you made for me. I’m going to work to become that man because you deserve nothing less.
I re-upped with the Marines this morning. I had just enough time to take care of a few things before I needed to fly out and report for duty. I know this will hurt you, and I’m sorrier than I can say that this is what you’ll probably take away from our time together. I don’t want to screw up any more of your life than I already have. Enclosed you will find divorce papers. Sign them and you’ll be free of me. Free to live the amazing, fantastic life you were meant for. I don’t expect you to wait for me. But someday, when I’ve truly kept that promise, become the kind of man you deserve, I’m coming back. And then we’ll see.
Yours always,
Griffin
Tears dripped onto the page, and the ink began to run. Sam let the letter fall to the desk and glanced over the papers that followed. He’d already signed, throwing away their marriage after less than twenty-four hours. No discussion. No attempt to compromise or consider her thoughts or feelings. He’d just decided they were through, without even talking to her.
Without even saying goodbye.
That felt like the worst betrayal of all.
She snatched up her phone, looking for a message, a missed call. Anything to indicate he’d changed his mind. But there was nothing. And she realized she couldn’t even call him on his bullshit because he’d never given her his number.
She’d been ready to give this marriage a chance. To support him in whatever way he needed for the next phase of his life. She thought he’d been ready to do the same for her.
But that was a dream. A beautiful, foolish, lust-filled dream. One that was over.
I’m coming back.
It was an empty promise. Sam recognized that. A throwaway line probably meant to soften this blow. It did nothing but make her heart bleed more. She didn’t dare believe he meant it because too much of her wanted to hope he’d realize he’d made a mistake and beg her for a chance to make things work.
But he wouldn’t. He’d walked away. Left her to fend for herself.
And she needed to figure out how to go back to a life without him.
HOLD THE TOMATOES!
I know. I know! This was so mean of me. I pride myself on not delivering cliffhangers because I hate them myself. But as I took great pains to try to communicate in the book description, the letter at the beginning, and on the cover, this story was a prequel novella. It is backstory and necessarily has an unhappy ending.
But the good news is that Griff does keep his promise. He does come back for her. And he’ll have his work cut out for him in winning her back. Come A Little Closer is available now for preorder. Don’t miss your chance to see these two come back together.
Turn the pages for a sneak peek at the opening chapter.