A Wedding Worth Waiting For (15 page)

Sam sputtered, spraying wine. Mollie smacked her on the back. “Don't worry, we're not usually violent. Only if you need us to be.”

Accepting a napkin from Jessica, who had been putting pizza slices on paper plates, she dabbed at her now sodden shirt. “I think we can probably avoid that. Whose idea was this, anyway?” She turned to Dani, who held up a hand in protest.

“Don't look at me. Jillian made the first call. I came because Mollie did.”

Jillian? She turned to the young mother. “But you barely know me!”

The brunette blushed prettily. “I actually can't take credit either. It was Mrs. Rosenberg's idea.”

“The old lady at the park? With the crazy glasses? What does she have to do with this?”

Jillian shifted the baby to her other shoulder, patting him rhythmically. “She realized you and Dylan had broken up, or at least had a fight, and thought you might need some female support. She called me, and I called the rest of them. Mrs. Rosenberg wanted to be here herself, but she had a bridge game at the senior center.”

Sam paused, mentally picturing the ostentatious octogenarian drinking wine in her living room with the rest of them and felt a giggle bubble up. Before she could stop herself, she was doubled over, laughing and crying at the same time. Alarmed, Cassie levered herself out of a chair and leaned over Sam. “Are you okay?”

Sam nodded, trying to catch her breath. “Oh, my goodness, yes. It's just, I'm not sure if I'm flattered or terrified. One minute I was sitting here by myself, getting ready to eat a frozen dinner. The next I have a tactical team of women on my doorstep ready to cheer me up at all costs.”

“Hey, that's what friends do, right?” Dani asked, her mouth full of pizza.

Sam looked around the room. Cassie was next to her, a paper plate balanced on her enormous belly, ready to comfort Sam if she started crying again. Jessica was helping herself to another slice of pizza at the breakfast bar and keeping a watchful eye on Cassie. Mollie sat cross-legged on the floor next to Dani, the two sisters at once so similar and yet so different. Together, these women had taken it upon themselves to come over, unannounced, just to make sure she was okay. No one seemed to expect anything of her, other than her company. They just wanted to hang out, and make sure she was all right. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

A year ago, or even a month ago, she wouldn't have been able to say that. Her experience of friendship had been limited to casual nods and the occasional study group. But this was different. This was something tangible, something she instinctively knew she could count on. The kind of friendship she'd read about in books, the kind she'd given up on finding. Somehow what had seemed impossible was now happening, and all she'd had to do was allow them in.

Could it be that simple? All the walls she'd built to protect herself, her heart; had they been keeping out the happiness she'd longed for? She'd let Dani and these amazing women into her life, and they'd made it better. What would happen if she opened up to Dylan, too? Could she find a way to make bridges instead of barriers, and still keep herself whole?

Chapter Fifteen

“I
thought I heard you in here.”

Sam turned away from the counter where she'd been chopping up vegetables for some of the rehab center's animals. “Just making sure the critters get their dinner.”

“I missed you this morning.” Dylan's tone was casual, but she felt a bit of a thrill anyway. She had wondered if he would notice her absence.

“Sorry, I got a call before dawn about a lost hiker. We found him, but by the time everything was settled it was already midmorning, so I called and switched shifts.”

“No worries. I'm glad everything turned out okay.”

She went back to chopping, finding it easier to talk if she didn't have to look him in the eye. Ever since her epiphany the other night when Dani and the girls had come over, she'd been thinking about him and her, and if she was doing the right thing. Was she wrong to keep things platonic between them, or just being practical? How much was fear, and how much was common sense? Part of her wanted to just give up the pretense, to be brave enough to open up and see where things led. But what if that was just her hormones talking? She needed more time, time to think things through and figure out the next step. Except thinking was pretty much impossible when he was standing so close to her. Slicing the zucchini for the tortoises, she nodded. “It did. Two brothers were camping out in the preserve, and during the night one of them went out to use the bathroom but never came back. He'd been gone a while before they called us, as the other brother had fallen back asleep. I was the closest, so first on the scene, but it was Cassie's husband, Alex, that finally found him. Or should I say, Alex's K9 partner, Rex.”

“Speaking of them, I heard Cassie was over at your place the other night, right before she had her baby.” He leaned against the counter, close enough that she could smell the piney aftershave he wore.

Senses tingling, she tried to focus on his words, and not on how easy it would be to lean in to his hard body. “Oh, yeah. It was crazy. She seemed fine when she left, but I guess she went into labor just a few hours later. She's adorable, too—the baby, I mean. I stopped by the hospital yesterday to see her. But it wasn't just her that came by. There was a whole group—Jillian, Mollie, Dani, and Alex's sister Jessica, who came into town for Outdoor Days this weekend.”

“Oh, I haven't met her yet. I'll have to keep an eye out and introduce myself.”

A flicker of green-eyed jealousy sparked in Sam's belly. Just because things hadn't worked out between them didn't mean he should be on the prowl for a new woman so soon. Annoyed at him, and more annoyed at herself for caring, her concentration slipped along with the knife in her hand. “Ouch!”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Blood oozed from a half-inch gash on her left index finger. “I'm fine, I just cut myself a little.”

“That's more than a little. Here, let's clean it off and then I'll get the first aid kit.” He took hold of her hand and guided her to the sink. Turning the faucet, he held her finger under the cool running water, his body pressed against hers. “Does it hurt?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, not really.” She couldn't feel anything but him. Lust had commandeered her nerve endings, leaving no room for something as inconsequential as pain.

“Good.” He leaned over her shoulder, peering down at the wound. “I don't think you need stitches, but maybe I should take you over to the hospital just to be sure.”

She could feel his breath on her neck, raising chill bumps and stirring her emotions. This was crazy: she was bleeding into the sink and all she could think about was how much she wanted him to kiss her.

“What do you think?”

“About what?”

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital to get that looked at?”

She shook her head, forcing her mind back onto the here and now, not the what-ifs that kept trying to trip her up. “No, just a bandage. Whatever you have in the first aid kit should be fine.”

“Okay. Let me see what I can find.” He let go of her, and she had to stop herself from pulling him back. This must be the exhaustion talking, making her vulnerable, keeping her from thinking straight. Her new friends had stayed late, and she'd only been in bed a few hours before she'd been woken to search for the missing camper. Tonight she'd get a solid eight hours of sleep and be back to her normal self by the morning.

“This should work.” Dylan held up a rectangular bandage and some antibiotic ointment. “Just dry it off and I'll get you patched back up.”

She grabbed a paper towel and did as he instructed, holding her finger out for him to take care of. “You know, I'm the one with first aid training, so how come you know so much about this?”

“Will it offend you if I say I learned watching Cassie?”

She chuckled. “So you're saying your training is in veterinary care?”

He grinned. “Don't worry, I promise not to give you a rabies vaccine or make you wear one of those plastic cones on your head.”

“Thank goodness.”

He wrapped the last bit of adhesive around her finger. “One thing left to do.”

“Oh, yeah? What's that?”

“A kiss to make it better.” Without waiting for a response from her, he lifted her hand to his mouth, his gaze locked on hers, and gently kissed her bandaged finger. Heat flared in her belly, answering the fire she saw in his eyes.

“Dylan...” She sighed, needing to stop him and yet needing him to never stop. She hesitated, and the choice was taken from her. A chirp from her pocket signaled a call on her work phone. She pulled her hand back and forced herself to step away. “I have to answer this, I'm sorry.”

“Fine, but we're not done here.”

She answered, listening with mounting anticipation. This was it, the break she'd needed. Running to her purse, she grabbed a pen and her notepad, scrawling down directions and then repeating them to be sure. “Thank you so much. I'm on my way.”

Shoving the phone back in her pocket she turned to Dylan. “I've got to go. That was a tip about the poachers—someone spotted them with another deer.”

* * *

“Wow, that's...great.” And it was, in a general kind of way. But unless he was mistaken, it also meant she was about to head off to confront armed poachers. Which wasn't at all what he'd call good news. “So, now what?”

She looked up from her phone, and he saw she'd already pulled up a map of the island. “Now I try to get there before they clean up and dispose of the evidence.”

“You don't think you should call in someone else? Backup, maybe?” He'd feel a lot better if she had reinforcements. Maybe an entire squadron of armed guards.

She nodded, her fingers flying over the phone. “I will. But the next closest agent is an hour away. He'll meet me out there when he can.”

“You're not going to wait for him?” Fear tightened around his gut like a snake constricting its prey.

“No, I just told you—I can't wait, not if I want to catch them red-handed. In an hour from now, they could have packed everything up and be sitting in front of the television watching a baseball game.”

Dylan desperately wished he could believe these idiots had nothing worse on their mind than a game and a beer. “It just doesn't seem safe, that's all.”

Her shoulders stiffened, and he swore there was ice in her gaze. “Dylan Turner, I am a trained law enforcement officer. This is my job—it's what I do. You've known that from the minute you met me. If you have a problem with that, you'll have to work it out on your own. I don't have time for this kind of sexist crap.”

“Whoa, sexist? Just because I'm just a bit concerned about you running off to confront a bunch of armed criminals doesn't make me sexist!”

She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “Oh, really? And I assume you show this same amount of concern for your friend Alex as he goes about his job. Do you follow his patrol car around town to make sure he doesn't get into any trouble? Or do you trust that he has the training, knowledge and skills to handle himself?”

Damn. She was right, except for one thing. “The difference is, I'm not in love with Alex.”

She blinked twice, rapidly, but didn't back down. “So, what? I'm supposed to quit my job because you're in love with me and worried I might get hurt?”

It shocked him that there was a tiny part of him that did want that, as illogical as it was. But he wasn't a caveman, and even if he wanted to lock her away from every sort of danger, he'd never be able to live with himself if he stood between her and her duty. “No.” He drew a deep breath, trying to calm the fear that coursed through him. “You love your job, and you've worked hard to get to this point. It's what you were meant to do.”

“Thank you.”

“But it doesn't mean I have to like it. I'm not going to lie, Sam. I'm scared to death. I was raised to believe that a man protects the people he loves, and you want me to stand here and do nothing, to let you face danger on your own.” His fists clenched at his side. “Sam, I don't know how to do that.”

“Well, that's too bad.” She grabbed her keys and headed for the door, then stopped, spinning to face him. “You know, you've talked a lot about how I'm living in fear, that I'm too scared to trust my feelings for you. And maybe you're right. But you don't get to sit there and lecture me about fear when you're too scared to let me do my job. You say you want to be in a relationship with me, that you love me. Well, how on earth would that ever work if you'd flip out every time I leave the house?”

“Well, not every time.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Yeah, he did. And he had no clue what the answer was. “I don't know.”

“Well, I can't wait around while you figure it out. I've got a job to do. But I'll tell you this—if you think you're going to stand in my way, you can say goodbye to this friendship, and to anything else that there might be between us.”

His head snapped up. “Are you saying there is something more, that you do have feelings for me?”

She shrugged. “I guess it doesn't matter now. I put up with my father and the chauvinistic guys at the academy, but I'm not going to go into a relationship with someone that has that kind of attitude. I'm done.”

Hope and fear tangled within him. If there was a chance, if she really was ready to take a leap of faith and see what happened, he'd be a fool to mess that up. But could he let himself be with her, love her and let her walk into harm's way on a regular basis?

“Like I said, I can't wait around while you figure it out.” She opened the door, striding out into the twilight.

In two long strides he made it to the doorway, and called after her. “Sam!”

She paused, one foot on the running board of her truck, the door already open.

“Be safe. And call me later—I want to hear how it turns out.”

She considered, probably wondering if he really wanted to know, or just wanted to check up on her. Honestly, it was a bit of both.

“It might be late.”

“I don't care. I'll wait as long as it takes.”

* * *

Sam carefully closed the door of her truck, making as little noise as possible. She'd parked a half mile away from the address the caller had given her; hopefully that was far enough. She needed every advantage going into a situation like this and wanted to scope out the scene without alerting anyone to her presence. The caller hadn't given much information, no indication of how many people were involved, or who they were. Just a message that the poachers had bagged another deer, and an address.

Most of the people in Paradise lived in the suburbs that covered the eastern portion of the island, but there were still some older, more rural places on the western part, bordering the wildlife preserve. That's where she was headed now. A drainage ditch ran along the side of the road, and although it would hold several feet of water in the summer, it was dry this time of year.

She slipped down the embankment and found that if she stuck to the middle, the brush offered decent cover. Making her way toward the house, she kept her eyes peeled for snakes and tried to figure out who could have called. It had been a woman, she was sure of that, but the voice wasn't familiar. It hadn't sounded like anyone she'd met on the island so far. Maybe an angry wife who'd decided to turn her spouse in? That was a reach, but with nothing to go on, it was as good a guess as any.

It took longer than she'd wanted to find the right address. Several times she'd scrambled up out of the ditch to check her bearings, keeping her head low as she scanned the surroundings. The fourth time, she found what she was looking for, a small, one-story house with wooden siding and a detached garage. Several vehicles were in the drive, including two pickup trucks. One of them tickled her memory, but the model was common enough it could belong to anyone.

The property backed right up to the reserve; that would be her best approach. Half climbing, half sliding into the gully again, she backtracked to a spot where she could cross into the woods out of eyeshot from the house.

Brambles and vines grabbed at her as she pushed her way through the underbrush that had grown up between the tall sand pines. Controlled burns couldn't be done this close to inhabited areas and invasive Brazilian pepper plants grew thickly here. Hard to hike through, but they offered excellent cover from which to observe the property. Crouching down behind the sheltering branches, she peered through high-powered binoculars, bringing the property into focus.

From this vantage point, she could see right into the open garage. There seemed to be only two men in the structure, one standing near the open doorway and another in front of a long, plastic-draped table. Hanging from a chain behind him was the partially-skinned carcass of a deer. Switching from the binoculars to her camera, she shot off a series of photos, making sure to document the license plate on the truck closest to her. The other was facing the wrong way, but she noted down the make, model and color.