Some Day Somebody (4 page)

“Uh huh, you got all uppity with me then dropped out.”

Carrie pointed at the large wall clock next to the entrance. “I can’t come to work late on a new job. Do you even
know
the meaning of probationary period?”

“Aw, five minutes here and there won’t hurt anyone,” he said, his tone a mixture of teasing and serious-as-a-heart-attack.

She blew out a frustrated breath. “Yeah, Sam...Whatever.” She returned her attention to her studies and flipped her notebook to a fresh sheet with a snap of her wrist.

“It’s not whatever,” he said, sounding overly confident. “It’s what
is
.”

When she ignored the comment, the smart thing for Sam to do would have been to walk away. Instead, he leaned one elbow on her desk, as though daring her to confront him.

Bantering with three brothers and a nearly ex-husband had left Carrie sharp-tongued, sharp witted, and itching to put him in his place. Being the new girl, however, she thought it safer to ignore his taunt, lest her position of ‘Last Hired’ become ‘Next Fired’.

She tapped the eraser of her mechanical pencil in time to Toby Keith’s
Should Have Been a Cowboy
coming from the piped in speaker system. She tried to concentrate on the text in front of her, an impossible feat when she could feel Sam’s blue eyed gaze tracking her every movement.

“Carrie...” he goaded.

“Go away, Sam.”

“Uh unh, you want to fight, I can see it in your face.” He stepped back from the desk and picked up his fists, assuming a playful fighting posture. “Come on, Carrie. Let’s fight.”

“What’s in it for me?” she asked, pivoting in her stool to meet his gaze head on.  “Besides getting fired, I mean.”

Sam’s brow furrowed as his hands dropped halfway.  “Is that what you’re afraid of?”

She answered with one raised eyebrow.

“You’d practically have to kill someone to get fired from this place.”

Carrie pursed her lips as she heard Dale’s smug comment from behind her. “That could happen sooner than you think if you don’t leave her the hell alone, Langley.”

“I
ain’t
afraid of her,” he snorted. “If she had the gumption she’d have done something about it by now.”

Carrie released an irritated sigh and slammed her book closed.  She stepped down from the stool at her desk and walked up to Sam, meeting his amused gaze with a sober one of her own. “You’ve got some damn nerve, Sam Langley.”

The office buzzed like opening night of a Broadway musical as co-workers gathered in anticipation of a verbal throw down. “
Git
him, Carrie,” Dale said from his spot behind her. “That ornery son-of-a-gun has had it
comin
’
fer
over a year, now.”

Her mouth tightened to suppress a grin at her supervisor’s vote of confidence. She focused her attention completely on Sam, and though she stretched to her full height, still had to look up to face the irritating giant of a man.

She placed one finger on his broad chest, and gave him a light shove. “Who the hell are
you
to make that car pool late every morning?”

He dropped his fist to his sides. “It’s not
every
morn-”

“Every morning,” she interrupted, poking his chest to make her point. “You made me fifteen minutes late my second day on the job.” She watched as Sam took a step back and stared down his nose at her.

“Do you have two different colored eyes?”

Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Don’t try to change the subject, you big Red Neck.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“That’s weird.”

“
You’re
weird.”

He cocked his head slightly to the side as one corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided grin. “Aw, is that the best you can do?”

“And you’re inconsiderate. Despite what your mommy must have raised you to believe, the world does not revolve around you.”

“Maybe it should,” he added, grinning down at her.

She straightened her shoulders and took a step closer to him. “You’re like one of those bullies in elementary school. Just because you’re the biggest kid on the playground you think you can get away with anything.”

From her desk in the corner of the room, Roxie threw her head back in laughter. “Boy, does she have you pegged.”

“I’m not a bully.”

Carrie dismissed his denial with a flippant wave of her hand. “I say you are.”

It didn’t take long for Sam to retaliate. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, lady. I am
not
a bully.”

She turned away, giving him an insignificant shrug, and climbed back up on her stool. “I bet you were a spoiled brat, too.” She grinned as the members of his crew doubled over with laughter. That is until Sam aimed a glare in their direction. She watched him point to the back exit before addressing the four men.

“We have five miles of roadway to survey by the end of the day. Your asses better be in that truck by the time I walk out of here.”

Members of Sam’s survey crew attempted to wipe the grins from their faces as they grabbed equipment and headed for the door.

“Come on, Sam,” Carrie said, clucking her tongue. “Don’t take it out on the guys just because you lost an argument with a woman.”

“Yeah,
Baby
Sam
,” Roxie added from her desk.

Carrie raised a curious brow at Roxie’s last statement as Sam turned and walked abruptly into his office. “What’s that all about?”

“He’s the baby of the family and the only boy,” Roxie explained.

Carrie chuckled at the tidbit of information. “Now
that
explains a lot. Do they still call you that?” Her gaze followed Sam as he exited his office with a clipboard tucked under one arm.

He stopped in front of her desk.  “Didn’t I hear you tell Roxie you have seven brothers and sisters?”

“I sure do,” she admitted.

“Then I guess you can’t help being jealous of the way I was raised...You being from of a litter of eight, and all.”

Her eyebrows arched in shock.
“Oh, my God.
They do, don’t they?” She slapped her hand on her book. “Of
course
they do. By the way, I’m
glad
I came from a large family. At least I wasn’t spoiled rotten.”

From her desk in the corner, Roxie snorted with laughter again.

Sam threw a glare in her direction. “Hey,
Rox
, just sit there with your little crossword and be quiet.”

Carrie watched as Roxie waved off Sam’s comment in silence. “You’re not going to let him get away with that, are you?”

Roxie gave her a brief nod. “I just ignore him. He’s been useless around here for the last year, anyway.”

Carrie heard Sam’s grunt of dismissal before he turned to walk away. He had no idea his comment had put the challenge back into her cause. “Sam, I think you owe her an apology.”

“She called me useless. I don’t owe her anything.”

“You’re an inconsiderate, spoiled, bully and you owe her an apology,” she insisted.

Sam scowled and settled back on his heels, arms crossed in stubborn defiance.

As Carrie watched his show of stubbornness, she remembered Roxie’s first comment to her about Sam. “
He’s been cranky since his wife left him...”
Maybe she’d get better results from her grumpy co-worker if she showed some empathy for his situation. Suddenly, she remembered her mother’s advice on handling an annoying classmate in high school.
You’ll always attract more flies with honey than vinegar.
Maybe this plan called for a revision.

With a slight tilt of her head, she tilted her head back to scrutinize the man who stood well over six feet tall. She’d always been attracted to big men, and Sam made quite an attractive package with his light colored hair and crystal blue eyes. Her gaze lowered to encompass long legs covered in work faded denim that fit snugly across slim hips and lean thighs.
The man filled out a pair of jeans nicely, that’s for sure.
The jeans ended at a pair of scuffed, but clean, lace up leather boots—at least three sizes larger than Dave’s.

Her brows lifted curiously.
Big boots, for a big man.
Did the size of a man’s foot
really
have anything to do with the size of
other
parts of his anatomy?

She shook off the thought
.
The last thing she needed was the complication of a man in her life. She watched as he stood stock still, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His tone sounded smug as he addressed her.

“Like what you see?”

One corner of Carrie’s cheek lifted in a partial smile as she watched Sam’s cheek tighten to form a single, adorable dimple...One more addition to the irresistible factor. She found herself wondering again how someone so attracted to tall men with blue eyes could end up married to a man with Dave’s dark looks and short, compact stature.  She shrugged off the internal interrogation and gave her shoulder length waves a quick flip with her hand.
“Just curious.”

He stared down his nose at her.
“About what?”

“My daddy always said it takes a big man to admit he’s wrong. I’m curious to see if you’re big enough to do the right thing.” She lifted her eyes to meet his crystal blue gaze and paused.
“So.”
Her voice lowered to a husky whisper. “Are you big enough, Sam?”

Sam swallowed hard as he gazed into gorgeous, multi-hued eyes that sparkled with curiosity as well as the slightest hint of devilish amusement. He wondered if that brazen curiosity of hers would extend to the bedroom as well, but dismissed the thought. Sleeping alone for over a year made a man entertain some crazy thoughts.

Most people would call her difficult, but his love for the Cajun dialect caused him to brand her
tracas
, with a capital
T
. No sir, regardless of what faults, or qualities, she possessed, he knew one thing for certain. He didn’t need her kind of
Trouble
.

Sam sensed the occupants in the room holding their collective breath, and made a strategically sound decision to surrender with dignity. He’d already given his traitorous co-workers enough to fuel the gossip fires for months.

Sam took a deep breath and released it before turning toward Roxie. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He saw Carrie’s brow furrow as though she strained to hear.

“What was that?” she asked.

Sam’s jaws clenched with a snap, as he turned back toward his co-worker. He placed his right hand over his chest and bowed from the waist. “From the bottom of my heart, Roxie, I apologize.”

Roxie’s eyes widened, in undisguised shock. “You do?”

“Yes, I do.” Sam turned toward Carrie. “And I’m sorry I made you late the other day. I was w-wrong. There, I said it. I was wrong
and
I won’t do it again,” he mumbled.

He chanced a look into her eyes, and nearly lost his breath at the sight of her dimpled smile directed solely at him. That’s what he called
lagniappe
– a little something extra.

“Thanks Sam,” she told him. “I appreciate that.”

“And you should start riding with us in the mornings again.” It was high time he started coming to work on time. He’d been a lousy role model for his crew this past year.