“What’s going on?”
“You’ll see.” He grinned and opened the door to the mall for her.
The feel of his strong hand in hers and the way he confidently walked into the mall, like he was the super cool guy in high school, made the edges of her lips pull into a smile. Brett had been the alternative punk guy. He claimed to live his life as a statement, but now, as she stood with Sam, she realized Brett almost slunk to the edges, waiting for his chance to pounce on an opportunity—to get something free, to get noticed. But Sam, he faced the world head on, almost daring someone to get in his way. It was there in the way he walked and the way he stared people in the eyes, challenging them. He wasn’t mean, but he was determined. Until last night, she hadn’t realized why he’d had to be so determined. After hearing about him losing his mother and pretty much getting abandoned by a father, she was even more proud of him for making it. For taking what he wanted. She used to think he was such a jerk. Now, she saw he had that hard layer for a reason—he had needed it. She no longer saw the tough guy. She saw a simple man, trying to make her happy.
They walked through the mall for a couple of seconds and then stopped in front of a boutique.
“Why are we here?”
Sam opened the door, giving her a mischievous grin. “Well, you mentioned you needed ‘star’ clothes.” He gestured for her to go inside.
“Oh no.” She would not be this girl, the one that had a man do everything for her. She turned back out of the boutique.
His hand clamped down on her wrist, stopping her.
Yanking her hand free, she felt her heart racing. “You’re not buying me stuff,” she insisted.
Hesitating for a second, Sam slumped against the side of the door, a grin wide on his face. “Dang, woman, you’re prideful.”
This hadn’t been what she had thought he would call her independence. “Sorry if I’m not one of ‘those’ girls that uses you for your money.” Yanking her hand out of his, she moved down the walk way.
He fell into step with her. “I know you’re not one of those girls. You work harder then almost anyone I’ve ever met—waitressing, helping your mama and your friends, working on your music.”
“Exactly.” She shot at him, trying to figure out where they’d come into the mall.
Doing a quick maneuver, he stepped in front of her. “I just need you to answer one question for me.”
Almost bumping into him, she stopped. “Sam…move.”
Those chocolate eyes weren’t smoldering now, but they were intense. It was like he was reading the field, like he was about to throw a touchdown. “Please, just listen.”
Taking a breath, she crossed her arms. “Fine.”
The dark jeans and tight white Under Armour shirt he wore stretched over his heaving chest. He put up a finger. “If I needed something, would you buy it for me?”
She gave little shakes of her head back and forth. “But you don’t need anything.”
He kept his finger pointing at her. “That’s not the point. If I did, would you buy it?”
She scoffed. “Something like food, but not boutique clothes.”
Reaching out, he put a light hand on her shoulder. “But if I needed it to be successful, to have a shot, would you do it to show that you believed in me?” The middle of his eyes creased. “If I needed money for a football camp or new cleats?”
Understanding his analogy, but not liking it, she broke eye contact. “This is different.”
He dropped his hand but moved in line with her gaze. “It’s no different. It’s not.”
She didn’t like the way he gave her that half grin that stretched his tiny scar above his lip. Or the way half a dimple showed in his incredibly handsome face. Or the way her stomach churned with angst, knowing he was right.
“Ah, there it is.” Sam took this as an opportunity to move close to her and slip his arm around her shoulders and point her back in the direction of the boutique. “Please let me buy you some clothes.”
She let herself be dragged, still glaring at him.
His eyebrows lifted. “When’s your birthday?”
She knew he was searching for a reason. “February.” She said, dryly. She’d accepted that he was going to do this for her even though he was right—her pride didn’t like it.
He grinned, opening the door to the boutique. “Perfect, then it’s a birthday gift.”
Shaking her head, she pushed away from him, realizing he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Yeah, seven months early.”
He followed her. “Then an almost half-birthday gift.”
This earned him a smile.
Stopping, she tugged a flashy jacket up and off of the hanger. It was jean with brown leather strappy things hanging down, and it was completely blinged out with gold.
Sam looked her up and down, and his eyes lit up. “I like it.” He nodded.
She looked at the price tag then put it back.
He picked it right back up, draping it over his arm.
“That’s three hundred dollars.” She shook her head.
The tone of her voice didn’t seem to bother him. “Oh, we’re going to spend a lot more than that today.”
A bit overwhelmed, she looked around the store.
A petite sales girl walked over to them, smiling shyly.
He grinned at her. “What’s your name?”
“Shelby.”
Sam nodded to Tiffany. “Shelby, if you could make sure she gets about five complete outfits—tops, skirts, pants, jackets, hats, jewelry.” He flashed her another smile. “This girl is an up and coming country singer, and she needs to look it, okay?”
The girl, who had probably just graduated from high school, lit up. “You got it.”
Then he leaned into Tiffany, softly kissing the side of her ear and whispered, “I’m going to step out and get a soft pretzel while you pick out a few things. Remember, you want the girl to get a nice commission.”
It was underhanded, the way Sam had used helping someone else as an excuse to buy herself new clothes. Still she couldn’t stop herself from watching him admiringly as he swaggered out, turning back to her and winking before he disappeared.
40
Two hours later, the back of the car was jammed full of new clothes, and Sam could tell Tiffany was smarting over the fact that he’d paid for it all. For Sam, it was a little funny. She was not at all like most women that hung in football circles. She was humble and beautiful and…she expected nothing from him.
Which made him want to give her everything.
He put his hand over hers, and she gave him a long look.
“Hey, you’re just going to have to deal with the fact you made me super happy today.”
A soft smile played at her lips. “How come you giving me stuff makes you happy?”
She wasn’t being argumentative, and Sam was grateful for that. “Because, when a man seriously courts a woman, he wants to buy things for her.”
Letting out a light scoff, she leaned back into her seat, closing her eyes. “Courting, that makes me think of Victorian women and how they had to have chaperones.”
“We probably need one.” He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it.
They sped down the freeway, and Sam didn’t tell her he’d bought even more things for her for their date tonight.
She kept her eyes closed and he could tell she was completely relaxed. It made him happy. He glanced at her and then back to the road. Here was a woman that wanted nothing from him except to be with him. She got mad at him for the things he could buy her and despised him for trying to use his fame to help her. Honestly, he didn’t know what to do with her.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked quietly, keeping her eyes closed and her hand inside of his.
He sighed, deciding to tell her the truth. “I was thinking about how different you are.”