Authors: Lori Leger
He got it. The second kiss was firmer, more confident, from a self-assured man who knew what he wanted. By the time he pulled away, Carrie could barely stand on her own two legs. She leaned into him for support, her hands spread out against his broad chest until she regained her balance.
“I’m sorry, but I had to know.” He kissed her lightly again, “How you tasted. I’ve wanted to do that ever since the first time I made you laugh,” he admitted. “If that’s all it takes to keep you happy, I might have a shot at you.”
She gazed up at him, slightly dazed. Her head tilted forward, then back in a distracted nod.
Sam grinned. “So, all I have to do is be my charming, funny self to earn your undying love?”
She repeated the nod once more before straightening, coming to her senses. “No.”
He laughed. “I thought I was getting off too easy.” He reached out and ran his forefinger gently along her jaw line. “Focus now, Carrie. What else?”
It was difficult to breathe, to concentrate, with him so near and touching her that way.
He smiled down at her as he brushed a lock of her soft curls away from her face. “What else would it take to make you mine?”
Carrie shivered at his touch and covered his hand with her own. She attempted to clear her throat, as well as her head. “I can’t take being hurt again.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
“Just words—how do I know I can trust you?”
“I’m nothing like your ex—”
“How do I know that?”
“Because I’m
telling
you I’m not,” he insisted. “But feel free to ask anyone.”
She studied him, watching for signs of discomfort. Fear of secrets being revealed. She saw nothing.
“Lots of people thought Dave was a ‘good ole’ boy’. They didn’t know what he was doing behind my back.” Sam raised his hands, as though his patience was at an end.
“Okay, then.
You
tell me what you want in a man.”
“I don’t know what I want in a man,” she said. “But thanks to Dave, I damn sure know what I don’t want.”
“Then tell me. What
don’t
you want in a man?”
She took two steps toward the door then turned back toward him. “I
don’t
want a man I can’t trust, or one who’ll push me or my kids around. I
don’t
want someone I’m afraid to relax around.” Her gaze locked on his. “I can’t live like that again.”
She held her breath as he walked over to brush a light kiss upon her lips.
“In twenty-one years of marriage, I was never unfaithful, and I never laid a hand on her.” He pulled her closer for another light kiss. “I’ve been with the same company for twenty years, lived in the same house for the same amount of time. I’m steady as a slab of granite. I love kids, and I promise that neither you, nor your kids will ever have to be afraid of me.”
Carrie sighed as Sam left a trail of gentle kisses along her jaw line.
“I’m no stud. My hair is thinning, my mid-section isn’t. I live a dull life and I don’t have a lot of money to spare.” He shifted and continued kissing the other side of her jaw. “If you’re looking for non-stop excitement and someone to buy you a lot of gifts, I’m not your man, but I’d find other ways to spoil you.”
One side of his lip curled adorably alongside his dimple as she lifted one curious brow.
“Ah, the lady wants to know how I’d spoil her,” he mused. “Okay...let’s negotiate.”
Sam rattled off a list she’d never again have to do for herself, from car maintenance to yard work, to bringing her coffee in bed and letting her have control of the remote. “I’ll buy your favorite perfume for your birthdays, and never give you silk bikinis rolled up like a rose for Valentine’s Day.”
“It was nylon, not even silk.”
“Neither, then.”
He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her even closer. “Besides,” he added, “J.C. says we look good together.”
Carrie gazed up into his eyes. “He does?”
“Yep,” he said, lowering his head for another kiss.
She placed both hands on his chest and gave him a gentle push. “Have you been talking to people about me?”
“J.C. spoke up one day and told me I should ask you out because we make a good-looking pair,” he explained. “That’s all.”
I always said I wanted someone tall.
She thought how wonderful it would be to have a life without worry, without the constant existence of stress and strain on a relationship. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to trust again? It would be so easy to tell him she wanted him in her life.
But not quite yet.
She stepped away and stared out at the compound’s rain soaked parking lot. “I need to go before the skies open up again.”
“You be careful going home, Carrie.”
She adjusted her shoulder strap as he pushed the door open for her.
“You too, Sam.”
Sam reached out and gently took hold of her arm to stop her before she walked through the door. “Listen, if you have to see your ex, make sure you’re never alone with him.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“Don’t let him talk you into anything.”
Carrie froze in her tracks as a low rumble of thunder echoed ominously in the distance. She gazed out at the gathering of black clouds and suddenly felt the dreariness of the rain sodden surroundings creep into her soul. “What kind of
anything
are you talking about?”
Sam closed his eyes and sighed.
“Never mind.”
Carrie turned slowly to face him. “Are you afraid I’ll sleep with him?”
Sam’s tone turned defensive. “I only meant that he might try to talk you into taking him back. You said he could be persuasive.”
Carrie tried to remain calm, told herself not to over-react. “Dave could persuade the old me to do a lot of stupid things, Sam. But I’m stronger now. I can handle him.”
“I sure as hell hope so. I just don’t want anything like that to happen before—”
“Before what
?”
“
Well, before you, before
we
...” Sam stammered then clammed up.
“You mean before I’ve slept with
you
?” Carried waited for him to correct her...hoped...prayed she’d assumed wrong. Her heart sank when he remained silent. Unable to speak past the lump in her throat, she turned and ran out into the rain.
Sam watched
as Carrie started her car then drove out of the parking lot. How the hell had the best five minutes of his entire year turned FUBAR in a matter of seconds? Moving in a mechanical daze, he didn’t bother to put on his coat before trudging out to his truck. By the time he pulled his door closed against the rain sodden afternoon, he was soaked, cold to the bone, and disgusted with himself. His truck started with a roar, but he sat and stared out the window until his heater warmed the interior and defogged the windshield.
“Dumbass,” he muttered, gazing at his reflection in the rear view. “You couldn’t let her walk out the door and trust her?” He knew Carrie wouldn’t do anything as stupid as to take Dave back. She’d worked too damn hard for her independence. He shook his head, disappointed in his own insecurities.
Never again would he let fear from his past marriage control his tongue. Starting now, he’d put everything behind him and be a better man for the woman he...what? Loved? Did he love her? He liked her courage, her determination to have a better life, to provide her children with a chance for a better future. He admired every intelligent, sensitive, stubborn inch of her, from her glossy curls to her dimples, to her hot-pink and polished toes. He welcomed her ability to hold her own in an argument with him or anyone else, man or woman. Reveled that she didn’t back down from a challenge. But did he love her?
The only thing he knew for sure was that he needed to apologize.
Swish-swash...swish-swash...swish-swash...The hypnotic rhythm of the wipers did nothing to ease the tension in Carrie’s shoulders as she hugged the steering wheel to get a better view of the roadway. Even set at the highest speed, her wipers couldn’t keep up with the torrential rain..
“Folks, if you can hear my voice, you’ll be seeing this super heavy precipitation for the rest of the afternoon and night.”
She groaned at the weatherman’s words, thinking about the shopping she needed to do before driving to Christie’s. Disappointed in the way she and Sam had ended their conversation, she drove on, feeling down and depressed. Two hours after leaving the office, she fell into the doorway of Christie’s kitchen door, kicked off her shoes, and hauled the three dripping bags of groceries to the sink to drain. She went to the bathroom and slipped out of her drenched clothes, placing them straight into the washer and starting the cycle. She pulled on a pair of dry jeans and a sweatshirt and pushed her feet into her fuzzy slippers. The shrill ring of the phone sliced through the metallic ping of raindrops hitting the aluminum covered carport. She ran to answer it, determined that if it was Sam, she’d give him a chance to explain. She answered, fully expecting to hear the deep, sexy, bass of the voice she loved.
“Hey,” she said, breathlessly.
“Where’ve you been?” a hoarse voice whispered.
She passed her hand over the curls plastered to her wet cheeks, wishing she’d remembered to pick up her umbrella this morning. “Excuse me?” she said, not quite sure she’d heard what she thought she’d heard.
“Where’ve you been...Carrie?”
“Who is this?” she asked, as terror caused a tightening in her chest. “Who are you?”
“You’ll know soon enough, sweetness.”
“What do you want from me?” She waited, her breath coming in shallow, frantic puffs. In the next several seconds of jaw clenching silence, she’d almost begun to believe he’d hung up.
The voice answered, in a slow, evil sounding hiss that made her skin crawl and had her wrenching the phone away as though it scorched her.
By eight o’clock, Sam had dialed the number at least a hundred times. Finally hearing something other than the dreaded busy signal, he waited with bated breath for the sound of her voice...
any
voice that could tell him if she’d made it home safely, to cut through the ringing. His imagination had gone wild, creating all kinds of tragic scenarios caused by the weather conditions and her frame of mind when she left. He’d mentally kicked his own ass seven kinds of ways since then, wondering when he’d ever learn to keep his big mouth shut.
Carrie stared at the ringing telephone. Her head throbbed, and her stomach had long ago morphed from mildly upset to a lump of dread and queasiness. She grabbed the phone off the coffee table, and gave the answer button a hesitant press. She spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Hello?”
The short silence on the other end of the line finally produced a nervous clearing of a throat. “Is that you, Carrie?”
Carrie clapped her hand over her eyes. “Sam?”