I Do…. Dani Wade

meant it. Sam isn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

      Sam.

      Julia turned, but focused her attention on the badge pinned to Sam’s beige shirt, unable to make eye contact with him. Instead she looked out at the tables surrounding them. “Sorry for the commotion. Go back to dinner, and we’ll get out of your way.”

      “Wait a minute.” Sam’s voice cut through the quiet.

      Julia held her breath.

      “As most of you heard tonight, Julia and I have something to celebrate.” He grabbed her hand and drew her back to him. Her fingers spread across his broad chest of their own accord. “We need to make this believable for the gossip mill,” he whispered against her ear.

      A round of applause rang out in the restaurant followed by several clinks on glasses. “Kiss. Kiss. Kiss,” came the call from the bar.

      Julia froze as Sam gazed down at her, his expression heated. “Better give them what they want.”

      “It’s totally unbelievable and I had garlic for dinner,” she muttered, squirming in his arms.

      “I’ll take my chances,” he answered with a laugh.

      “Have it your way.” Cheeks burning, she raised her head and pressed her mouth to his, a chaste peck fit for the balcony at Buckingham Palace. When she would have ended the kiss, Sam caught hold of her neck and dipped her low. She let out a startled gasp and he slid his tongue against the seam of her lips. Ever so gently he molded his mouth to hers.

      A fire sparked low in her belly as she breathed in the scent of him, warm and woodsy and completely male. Lost in her reaction, her arms wound around his neck and her fingers played in the short hair along his collar. She heard his sharp intake of breath and suddenly he righted them both to a chorus of catcalls and stomping feet.

      “That’s what I’m talking about,” someone yelled.

      “Okay, folks.” Sam’s gaze swept across the restaurant and he smiled broadly. “Show’s over. I’m going to see my lovely bride-to-be home.”

      Julia pressed her fingers to her lips and looked at Sam. The smile didn’t reach his eyes.

      When she turned, Joe watched her. “You’re a breath of fresh air if I ever saw one,” he said and gave her trembling hand a squeeze.

      She led the group into the night but not before she noticed several members of the ladies’ auxiliary huddled in the corner. They’d have a field day with this one. The salon would be buzzing with the news by morning. Her chest tightened as she felt Sam behind her, frustration pouring off him like a late-winter rainstorm. Maybe he’d already come to regret his stupid proposal.

      This entire situation was his fault. She’d told him she didn’t need a hero, and that was the truth.

      Still, his announcement had rattled Maria Johnson and her attorney. She couldn’t figure out how a fake engagement would benefit Sam, but he wasn’t her problem.

      Charlie was Julia’s only priority. She’d do anything for her son.

      Right now she needed time to think, to figure out how to make this bizarre predicament work in her favor. “It’s been a long day, boys,” she said quickly. “Joe, it was nice to meet you. How long will you be—”

      “We need to talk,” Sam interrupted, gripping her arm when she tried to break away.

      “I thought I’d be around for a while. Give my boy some lessons in tapping into his feelings, finding his passion and all that.” Joe gave Sam a hearty thump on the back. “After that little display, I think he may have wised up on his own. You’re good for him, Julia. Real good.”

      Sam’s hold on her loosened. He studied his father. “You mean one kiss convinced you I can do without a dose of your emotional mumbo jumbo?”

      Julia swatted his arm. “That’s your father. Show some respect.”

      Sam shot her a withering look. “I’ll remember that the next time your mom’s around.”

      Joe laughed and wrapped them in another hug. “Not just any kiss. It’s different when you kiss the one. Trust me, I know. I bet they could see the sparks flying between the two of you clear down to the coast.”

      Looking into Joe’s trusting face, she couldn’t let Sam’s father pin his hopes on her. She had to tell him the truth.

      “Mr. Callahan, I don’t—”

      “You’re right, Dad,” Sam agreed. “It’s different with Julia. I’m different, and I don’t want you to worry about me anymore.” He pinched the tip of Julia’s nose, a little harder than necessary if you asked her.

      “Ouch.”

      “Such a delicate flower.” He laughed and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. “What would I do without you?”

      “Troll for women over in Charlotte?” she offered.

      “See why I need her by my side?”

      Joe nodded. “I do.”

      Sam turned to Julia and rubbed his warm hands down her arms. “Where are you parked?”

      Julia pointed to the blue Jetta a few spaces down from where they stood, her mind still reeling.

      “Perfect. I’m going to walk Dad back to the hotel and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

      She didn’t like the look in his eye. “I’m kind of busy at the salon tomorrow.”

      “Never too busy for your one true love.”

      Julia stifled the urge to gag. “I guess not.”

      “Get going, then, sugar.” He pinched her bottom, making her yelp. She rounded on him but, at the calculating gleam in his eye, turned back toward her car. Sam and his dad watched until she’d pulled out.

      Despite this peculiar evening, his announcement had served its purpose. Lexi Preston had said having Sam in the picture might change things. That could be the understatement of the year, but if it kept Charlie safe, Julia would make it work.

      No matter what.

      * * *

      Sam took a fortifying drink of coffee and watched as another woman walked through the door of The Best Little Hairhouse. He knew Julia had worked at the salon since her return to Brevia two years ago, but that wasn’t why he avoided this place like the plague. It was too girlie for him. The bottles of hair product and little rows of nail polish on the shelves gave him the heebie-jeebies.

      The one time he’d ventured into the Hairhouse, after the owner had reported a man lurking in the back alley, he’d felt like a prize steer come up for auction.

      He adjusted the brim of his hat, buttoned his jacket against the late-morning rain and started across the street. He’d put the visit off until almost lunchtime, irritated with himself at how much he wanted to see Julia again. Part of him wanted to blame her for making him crazy, but another piece, the part he tried to ignore, wanted to get close enough to her to smell the scent of sunshine on her hair.

      He scrubbed a hand across his face. Sunshine on her hair? What the hell was that about? Women didn’t smell like sunshine. She worked at a salon and probably had a ton of gunk in her hair at any given moment. Although the way the strands had felt soft on his fingers when he’d bent to kiss her last night told another story.

      One he wasn’t interested in reading. Or so he told himself.

      Sam opened the front door and heard a blood-curdling scream from behind the wall at the reception desk. He jerked to attention. He might not spend a lot of time in beauty salons but could guarantee that sound wasn’t typical.

      “I’m going to choke the life out of her,” a woman yelled, “as soon as my nails dry.”

      Nope.