Page 283 of The Havenport Collection

Sam

“ T he bib is part of the charm. Trust me,” he said, reaching toward me. He bent down, tying the plastic around my neck. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he had been lingering.

We were sitting at a picnic table covered with steamed lobsters, wet naps, and steel crackers.

“It’s go time,” he said, giving me a wink.

I felt my face flush. I wasn’t sure what this was.

All I knew is that Gio stepped off his plane, headed right to my house, and kissed the hell out of me on the front porch before telling me he’d be back later—after a nap and a shower—and to be ready for a casual adventure.

It was jarring, but I spent the afternoon excited, picking out a cute outfit and blow drying my hair.

His attention felt so good. And I had to expect that other parts of him would feel good as well.

“Have you forgotten how to do this?” he asked, expertly twisting off his lobster’s tail.

I shook my head. It had been years since I had mauled a fresh lobster, but as a native New Englander, I got right back into it. I could eat a lobster blindfolded. Claws first was always my strategy.

“I gotta say, lobster is delicious,” I said, sucking the juice out of a knuckle. “But the butter—or buttah as I should say—is essential.”

Gio nodded, looking totally ridiculous in his bib. “Oh yes. Douse it in buttah and then wash it down with a beer.”

“Amen to that,” I replied.

And so we sat, devouring our crustaceans and watching a spectacular sunset. Gio had picked me up and taken me to Kennebunkport, Maine, home of lobster, blueberry pie, historic lighthouses, and several exquisite beaches.

“I can’t believe this is only an hour away from Havenport.”

“I know. I found this lobster shack when I got lost trying to meet a client for dinner in Kennebunkport. Ended up chatting with the owners—they are fourth generation—and so when I want a really fresh lobster and some scenery, I make the drive.”

After dinner, we sat on the bluff, a blanket wrapped around us, watching the lighthouse send its beacon out to sea. The surf was rough, crashing against the rocks, and every few minutes the wind would blow some spray in our direction.

We passed a bottle of wine back and forth.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Anytime. I know how much you love a good lighthouse.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“Not at all. You are discerning and curious. I knew you would like this spot.”

I took another swig, the alcohol beginning to swirl around in my bloodstream. “I needed this. It’s been a rough week.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You made it so much better, Gio. Thank you for my punching bag, thank you for the pep talks, thank you for texting me, even while you were working across an ocean, and thank you for this adventure.”

My eyes were beginning to sting, and I begged myself not to cry again. I had cried so much I wasn’t even sure how my body was producing tears anymore.

“I just…appreciate you.”

He squeezed me harder. “I appreciate you too, Sam.”

“Things have just been so difficult. And you make everything better. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

He kissed the top of my head and held me close. “You are going through a lot. And it’s okay to not be okay. I’m here for you whenever you want.”

I pulled back slightly. “Really? When I wake up in the middle of the night, realize I’m in my childhood bedroom, and start sobbing because I have cancer?

You want me to call you?” I had meant to sound sarcastic, but it came out with a sob.

Because it was true. I was a mess. Every single night like clockwork I woke up at three a.m. Usually in the throes of panic and always consumed by tears.

Every night I cried until I was so exhausted I couldn’t cry anymore, before finally falling back asleep.

And every night, I was struck by just how alone I was.

“I would love nothing more. Just call me, and I’ll be over in ten minutes to hug you until you fall back asleep.”

“Stop.”

He tipped my chin up. “I will always be here for you.”

I nodded, letting the tears flow. We sat silently, and I took a few deep breaths, focused on enjoying this moment for what it was. A special moment with my best friend.

The air felt thick. The cold breeze did nothing to calm the fire flowing through my veins. His lips brushed my temple again, and I couldn’t take one more minute.

What did this mean? Was he interested? Was he going to make a move? Instead of just shutting up and enjoying the moment, I had to open my mouth.

“Are you attracted to me.” Ugh. I was the worst. Damn insecurities. Why wouldn’t they just stay in my head where I could privately obsess over them?

His head snapped up. “Of course I am.”

The heat in his eyes made my stomach flip. “Since I hit puberty, there has not been one single moment of my life that I have not been attracted to you.” His voice was deep and serious, and I could feel my nipples standing at attention.

“Really?”

“Do you need me to spell it out?”

“Um, yeah, I do. I’m having a crisis here.” I gestured to myself, rolling my eyes. “You know, cancer? My self-esteem could really use a boost right about now.”

He ran his hands through his hair again, giving me an opportunity to enjoy his muscly forearms up close. Gio had always had great arms; I attributed it to all the woodworking.

“Sam Sullivan. Where do I even begin? You are beautiful inside and out. You are tall and strong and capable, but have the most delicious womanly curves. The kind of curves a man could get lost in for days.”

I gasped. This was not what I had expected. His eyes were liquid fire, and I could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He was totally and completely serious. And I could barely breathe.

“And your hair.” He reached out and tucked a strand behind my ear, setting my skin on fire. “The color is so deep and sexy. After you left for the Peace Corps, I found myself dating redheads exclusively, trying to find someone as incredible as you. Clearly it didn’t work.

“And your mouth. Although it’s usually busy saying something sarcastic to me, your lips are perfection.

Kissing you last week was one of the high points of my life, and I still don’t think I’ve recovered from it.

So I probably sound like an idiot right now.

But the point is, yes. I am attracted to you. So very fucking much.”

My breath caught in my chest. I expected him to say yes or say no.

What I hadn’t expected was for him to write a sonnet on the spot about all my womanly charms. I walked into this situation feeling like I was in control, and in one moment, I was on my ass, completely floored by the man sitting next to me, a man I thought I knew and understood.

I lifted my head up to meet his, pausing, our lips inches apart.

“Sam.” But I cut him off with a kiss.

It was gentle, but still needy. I could feel him holding back, keeping himself in check while I kissed him. I didn’t want him like this, restrained and careful. I wanted all of him. I wanted to take whatever he was willing to give.

So I pushed him back, straddling him on the blanket. Instantly, I felt his hardness underneath me and wiggled slightly, causing the friction I had been dreaming about for weeks.

His hands were on me, cupping my ass as we kissed furiously.

My hands were in his hair, tugging gently as he nibbled my jaw, my ear, and my neck.

This was so good. I could kiss him for the next ten years. His lips and hands and body were driving me to distraction. And we were fully clothed. What could naked Gio do to me? I shuddered at the thought.

“Fuck, Sam,” he groaned. “We should probably go somewhere private.”

I sat up and looked around; the area was deserted but there were cars in the parking lot. “Let’s go back to your truck. I need you, Gio.”

His eyes were dark with lust. “Shit. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear those words.” He kissed my neck gently. “But we should drive home before things get out of hand. Talk about this first.”

I sat up, still feeling his hardness between my thighs.

He looked extra handsome, his hair mussed and his lips swollen from my kisses. I raised my hand to my cheek. The skin was sensitive, probably the beginning of some beard burn I would no doubt regret in the morning.

“I don’t want to talk,” I replied.

We stumbled back to the parking lot, our arms around one another and my lips tingling from our semipublic make-out session.

I should have been panicking, or at the very least overanalyzing the situation. But I found myself too turned on and giddy to care.

By the time we made it to the truck, I had lost my sweatshirt, and he was kissing down my neck, teasing at the thin strap of my tank top.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I looked down at my left breast—the one with the walnut-sized nuclear bomb inside, the thing I wanted to forget about on this perfect night.

“Yes,” I gasped as he nibbled my earlobe. “Yes, touch me everywhere.”

He needed no further invitation, pulling me onto his lap where I was straddling him, my jean shorts already unbuttoned.

I ground up against him, loving the heat of his breath on my skin, as his fingers trailed down my stomach, teasing me.

“I want to make you come,” he growled in my ear. “Are you going to come for me, Sam? Give me the thing I’ve been dreaming about.”

I felt his fingers brush against the fabric of my panties, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. I would give him anything he wanted right now.

He pushed my shorts down over my hips and I shimmied them off, along with my panties.

“Oh my God,” he groaned. “You are so wet for me, aren’t you?”

He had found my clit and begun to rub it with soft, feathery strokes. I wanted so much more. I moaned.

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes. Please, Gio. Please.”

He sank a thick finger inside me as my hips jerked and I threw my head back.

“Jesus, Sam. You are squeezing me so hard right now. I love it.”

Before I could respond, he gently added a second finger, while his thumb continued to rub circles on my clit.

My legs shook and my vision blurred. Soon, I was riding his hand while he whispered dirty words into my ear, kissed me, and pinched my nipples, all while keeping up a delicious rhythm with his hands.

I came loud and hard, crying out his name as the wave of a tsunami-sized orgasm washed over me.

“That,” he said, slowly bringing his fingers to his lips and licking them, “was amazing.”

I collapsed into the passenger seat, my chest heaving and my head spinning.

I looked over at Gio, taking in the mischievous grin on his face.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do that,” he said, leaning over to kiss me. “But buckle up, because I have more work to do when we get back home.”

I pulled my shorts on, giddy and dizzy, my mind spinning with possibilities. We had just taken a big step—no, a huge step—but somehow it felt totally right. I couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

Sadly, I fell asleep on the ride home, and I woke later to find Gio carrying me to bed.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” he said, kissing my forehead.

“Stay,” I whispered. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He nodded and climbed in next to me.

And when I woke up at three a.m. on the dot, my heart racing and my mind panicking, he held me tight while I cried.