走得太远伙伴suzanne brockmann-sam starrett and alyssa locke.pdfVIP

GONETOOFAR’SPARTNERS—ANDLOVERS—

SAMSTARRETTANDALYSSALOCKE

AREBACKINACTIONIN

ANEXCLUSIVESHORTSTORY!

Samwashovering.

He’dalreadymadeupamultitudeofexcusestocomeintothebathroomwhileAlyssawasintheshower,

andnow,whileshebrushedherteeth,helurkedjustoutsidethedoor.

She’dscaredhimtonight.

Theytookturnswhenoutonassignment.TonightSamhadbeenonlookout,hidingonthehillside,

watchingforheadlightsthatwouldannounceanapproachingcar,asAlyssajimmiedthecheaplockon

thedoortoSteveHathaway’sramshacklecabin.

Theplacehadbeendeserted.Infact,thisentirepartofthecountywasdeserted—theywereatleast

fortymileswestoftheboomingmetropolisofNewHope,innorthernNewHampshire,population473

attheheightofskiseason.

Gettinginsidethatcabinundetectedhadbeenlaughablyeasy.

AlyssanowdriedherfaceontheplushresorttowelasSamcheckeduponherforthetwenty-seventh

timesincethey’dreturnedtotheirsuitehereintheskilodge.

“I’mreallyokay,”shetoldhim.

“Iknow,”hesaid.

Sambentoverbackwardtomakesureheneversaidanythingthatmightmakeherthinkhedoubtedher

abilitytotakecareofherself.

Earliertonight,whenshe’dpushedopenthatcabindoor,switchedonherpenlightandgoneinside,Sam

hadspokenintohisradiofromhisperchonthehill.

“Lys,Ican’tseeyou.”He’dworkedhardtokeephisvoicesoundingcalm,relaxed.FilledwithTexas.

Becauseheknewthatsheknewhedroppedhishoneyeddrawlwhenhewasstressed.“Talktome.”

She’dflashedherlittlelightacrossthewallsandfloors,givinghimarunningcommentary.“I’minaroom

withabed,nootherfurniture.Justpilesoftrash—classicloveshack.Itsmellslikeoldsocksandmildew,

withadashofoverflowingseptictank.”

“Yum.”

“Yeah.”She’dsiftedthroughoneofthegarbagepileswithherfoot.Itwasmostlypaper—newspapers,

emptyfoodbo