More Red, Hidden Hearts 2 (Complete)

Chapter 1

Ali

The patio door crashed against its frame, rattling the windows and sending an echo to reverberate through the nearly empty beach house. Velvety chocolate-brown ears perked and swiveled toward the sound, the dog poised to leap into action.

"It's okay, Scout." Ali reassured her companion, tossing her laptop on the couch. She bent to scratch his ears, then pressed a soft kiss on the top of his head. "Just the wind."

The autumn breeze had once again picked up, forcing Ali to give up her plan of writing on the deck and retreat indoors. Light flooded the open concept main floor through floor-to-ceiling windows across the expanse of the eastern wall, facing the water, creating the illusion of being one with the local environment. As a native West Coaster, Ali Stinson was used to being outside with mother nature, not just looking at it through glass.

She pushed up the sleeves of her cable-knit sweater. Since moving across the country, the climate had challenged her outdoorsy persona. Now she owned a collection of scarves that were functional as well as fashionable. The concept of "the sweater" had also shifted from an optional to a necessity and almost a daily uniform. It seemed ages since Ali had worn a bikini.

The thought made her smile, reminding her of the day she first met Sam Freemont, a lifetime and a world away. In truth, that memory was less than six months ago but what half a year it had been. Ali could honestly say she was a different person. And it was about more than a simple wardrobe change.

It was about love.

A warmth, unrelated to her bulky sweater, bloomed in her chest.

Love had changed everything.

Love had struck like lightning, illuminating her world. Love had pulled her out of meaningless existence and filled her days and nights with purpose, with meaning and the best sex of her life. She was grateful for it all. Most of all, she was grateful for Sam.

Scout stirred from his dog bed and angled his body against Ali's leg as if to say, "What about me?"

"Yes, I love you too." She ran her fingers over his soft fur, relished the comfort of the rescue dog who'd become her constant companion. With her free hand, she opened her laptop and a photo of her and Sam filled the screen.

When they first met, she'd known him as Sam Freemont but soon learned his full name was Sam Freemont Harrington. Escaping a personal demon, the golden-haired man with gorgeous green eyes was eking out a living as a bartender when their paths crossed. That fateful day, Ali had desired another meaningless hookup to pass the time. What she got was exactly the opposite – a meaningful relationship.

Sam had met her with kindness, compassion and a fierce loyalty that tore down the walls she'd spent years building. Of course, his kisses helped. The man was skilled in many areas, and his hands performed miracles, never mind other appendages. Honestly, Sam could win Olympic gold if kissing were a sport. Ali brought her fingers to her lips, recalling their goodbye kiss at the train station on Sunday night.

The train had almost departed without Sam. She could tell he was hesitant to go, probably because leaving meant breaking a promise. One of the reasons they'd moved out east was to fulfill Sam's obligation to his father and be involved in the family business. While they waited for their city apartment to be ready, they were staying at his parents' beach house in the Hamptons.

Not wanting to leave Ali alone, Sam had offered to commute daily to his new job located in the heart of New York. Ali appreciated the gesture but knew it wasn't feasible. So they'd compromised. Sam would stay at a hotel in the city Monday through Wednesday, returning to the beach house and her on Thursday evening to spend the weekend together.