The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

the way Zach did now, giving him those same shy smiles and that insane amount of trust Zach did. Why would either of them have ever trusted him? Or wanted to be with him?
    "Sam, think about it. I've spent my whole life running after you."
    And she had. She'd been as gentle and happy and hopeful as he was sad and angry and gruff. She'd always been so sure she could draw him into her life, into her family and make a place for him there, just as strong a place as she had. She just kept coming back, kept after him with a stubborn kindness and teenage admiration he hadn't been able to resist.
    "I tried, Rachel," he confessed. "I tried so hard to resist you."
    "I know," she said.
    He'd never quite believed he was good enough for her. Her family saw that, even if she did not. But there was only so much a man could do when faced with a woman who represented everything he'd ever wanted, everything he'd never had. She'd accepted him just as he was, and saw him as he'd always wanted to be, believed in him somehow. And one day, he'd given himself just one oh-so-innocent taste of her, and she'd gone straight to his head.
    There'd really been no going back then. Not for either of them.
    He still wanted her every bit as much. Wanted all that kindness and happiness and sunshine. He wondered if there was any sunshine left inside of her, and thought maybe he was seeing it tonight for the first time in ages.
    "I guess I'm still chasing you, Sam," she said. "I've missed you."
    Like he had in the old days, he took a step back, thought about saying something to try to make light of the situation. To dismiss everything that had always been between them.
    But this was Rachel, and it was gut-level honesty time.
    They'd hurt each other so much over the years, and he'd decided, right before the children came, that he simply couldn't do it anymore. He was sick and tired of feeling like he'd failed her in every way possible and he'd given up hope that they'd ever be happy together. Too many bad things stood between them for that.
    So now, here they were, about to get their hearts broken again if he was any judge of the situation. And he still wanted her every bit as much as he always had, probably more. Still needed her. Still wished for something he could give her, and still worried that someday she'd see the real him and not the man she'd always believed he could be.
    "I can't do this halfway, Rachel. Not anymore."
    She put her hands against his chest, fingers splayed wide, palms warm enough that he felt it through the fabric of his shirt. It seemed like it had been decades since she touched him.
    "What do you mean, halfway?"
    "It means I don't want to live the way we have been. I can't."
    "I don't want to, either, Sam. I want so much more. I want to give you so much more. I think we can make a new start. Right now."
    "With these children," he said.
    "Maybe."
    "We don't know what's going to happen—"
    "We never really know. Maybe for a while we thought we did, but we were wrong. Whatever happens tomorrow or the next day or the next, I want to spend those days with you."
    He closed his eyes, letting the words sink into him, letting her touch him, running her hands lightly up and down his chest, soothing him and heating him through and through and making him want to grab her and take her upstairs and kiss every inch of her. That used to make things better. At least for a while. While he could hold her close and feel as if he were truly a part of her and lie to himself that he'd never lose her.
    "You don't really know me," he said.
    "I don't know the little boy who lost his mother when he was so young. But I know the man. He's my husband. He has been for twelve years."
    He waited, not saying anything, not able to.
    "Sam, whatever it was, whatever happened, it's not going to change the way I feel about you."
    "I never wanted you to see me that way," he said. "To look at me that way."
    "What way?"
    "The way you look at Zach. The way I do," he choked out.
    "How do I look at him? Like I pity him?"
    Sam nodded. "I never wanted your pity, Rachel."
    "I don't recall ever offering it. Not to you or to him. I love Zach," she said. "I hate what's happened to him, and I wish I could take him in my arms and make everything all better for him. I think about those things when I see him. But mostly, I just think about how precious he is to me and how much I love him. I couldn't help myself any more with him than I could with you."
    And still, he stood