The One She Left Behind (Harlequin Super Romance) (14 page)

“Oh, yeah, you did bruise me,” he added without releasing his grasp. “When you pinched me.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t so far off base. “I only pinched you because you used to pin me down on my back and tickle me. You knew I couldn’t stand that.”

“I recall a few times when I had you on your back and you didn’t mind a bit.”

The minute Sam loosened his grip, Savannah tugged her hand away and pulled at the hem of her shirt. Yet she still hadn’t quite recovered from his touch, and continuing this conversation could very well lead them both into treacherous territory.

With that in mind, Savannah kept a safe distance between them as she lay back and stared at the stars. She closed her eyes as a slight breeze drifted over her face, bringing with it more wonderful summer scents and one less-than-pleasant remembrance. “Do you know what I regret the most about the way we ended things?”

“You didn’t punch me.”

She could hear a smile in his voice. “No. I regret that we didn’t go to the prom together so we could have that last dance.”

Without warning, he sat up, scooted off the hood and when his feet hit the ground, he turned to her and said, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

When Savannah heard the door open, she looked back to see Sam leaning into the cab followed by the sounds of country music floating through the open windows.

Sam soon returned but instead of reclaiming his place
beside her, he held out his hand. “Guess we’ll just have that last dance now.”

Savannah was both taken aback and extremely determined to protect her heart. “That’s really not necessary, Sam.”

“Yeah, it is. I owe it to you for breaking my promise.”

The promise to take her to the prom, a plan three years in the making. Savannah had gone with Gary Alders, another high school hunk, but only as a friend, although she made certain Sam hadn’t known that.

After Savannah hesitated, Sam added, “For old times’ sake.”

She harbored serious misgivings about that. “You’re asking me to dance on the grass, subjecting my bare feet to burrs and heaven only knows what else.”

“It’s fairly soft grass that looks to be clear of critters,” he said as he surveyed the area. “And it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

Yes, and that in itself was a problem. Those former dances had led to other things. For that reason, she grabbed for the only other excuse that came to mind. “I’m not sure I remember how to dance.”

“I’ll help you remember.”

Hadn’t he done enough of that already? She could continue to weigh the pros and cons, or she could just can the qualms and humor him. “All right, I’ll do it. And you ought to be glad I’m not wearing shoes, otherwise I might crush your toes.”

He took her by the waist and set her on the ground, then gave her a gorgeous grin. “That’s why I wear boots.”

Before she dove into this spontaneous dance, Savannah engaged herself in a mental pep talk. Yes, she would have to touch him. Yes, she would have to revoke the rule to keep him at a distance. Most important, she had to steel herself against any unwanted or unwarranted emotions.

Yet when Sam took her hand into his, the contact, no matter how innocuous, left her feeling as if it were somehow too intimate. And when he put his arms around her, she journeyed back in time when just like tonight, they’d danced to a radio, not a band, on blanket of grass, not a scuffed wooden floor.

The song happened to be a sultry country classic, perfect for a couple that wanted up-close-and-personal proximity. Not so perfect for former lovers who still had miles of acrimony between them. She promised herself to keep everything in perspective, to keep a safe berth between them, even as she inched closer. Amazingly she hadn’t forgotten how to dance, but then he was leading her perfectly. No surprise. Sam had always been the kind of man who was very good at a lot of things.

He held their joined hands against his chest, while she kept her eyes lowered to avoid his gaze. She caught the clean scent of soap and felt the warmth of his back beneath her palm, causing her stomach to dip with exhilaration, as if she’d boarded a runaway roller coaster bound for danger.

When the music transitioned into a ballad, Savannah’s concerns over getting too close dissolved in the moment. She automatically rested her cheek against his chest where she could hear the steady thud of his heart
while they swayed in sync, as if they could still anticipate each other’s every move. As if they’d never been apart.

He’d always made her feel so safe, so secure. He’d been her touchstone, her teacher in many instances. For years she’d tried to convince herself that she’d exaggerated the power he’d possessed over her. That she’d fallen victim to an overblown concept of true love. But right then she wasn’t so sure.

As they continued to sway together, the moments seemed almost surreal to Savannah, until reality crept back in. She abruptly wrested out of Sam’s arms and took a few steps back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking and sounding extremely bewildered.

She chafed her arms with her palms. “I’m just too keyed up for slow dancing.” And she’d been much too caught up in the moment.

“Are you ready to head back home?” he asked.

She should be, but she wasn’t. “I’m still too restless to sleep. I could try, but I’ll probably stay awake thinking about this thing with my mother.” And thinking about him.

“I know of one way you can get rid of some energy, if you’re game.”

Savannah was almost afraid to ask. “That depends on what you’re going to suggest.”

“I suggest we go for a swim.”

As far as she was concerned, Sam had totally lost his mind. “Now, that sounds like a banner idea, wading around in the dark with all sorts of unseen creatures.”

Sam sighed. “It’s a man-made lake, Savannah, not the Amazon River. About all you’re going to encounter is a perch, not a piranha.”

“Or a catfish.” The thought of running into one of those slimy, whiskered bottom-feeders made her cringe.

“Look, Savannah, the fish are a lot more scared of you than you are of them.”

That happened to be a fact, but it didn’t change Savannah’s biggest concern—swimming in the dark with Sam. She hoisted herself back on the hood. “Sorry, but I forgot to bring my suit.”

“You don’t need one.”

Now she was beginning to see where this whole swim idea could be heading. “I’m not going to go skinny-dipping, if that’s what you have in mind.”

His slow-burn smile told her that was exactly what he had in mind. “You can wear your clothes, or you can wear your underwear. It’s not like I haven’t seen you in less before.”

Before,
she hadn’t minded if he did see her. But now that didn’t seem so prudent. She’d also left her bra at home and that meant she’d either have to wear a wet T-shirt or go topless. Either way, she’d be rather exposed. “I don’t know, Sam. Bandying about half-naked in a murky pond with you seems a little scandalous, don’t you think?”

He used the truck for support while he toed out of his boots and took off his socks. “First of all, I’m damn sure not going to bandy about. Second, there’s not one soul in sight to start a scandal. And last, if you’re worried that I might try to compromise your reputation, don’t.
It’s a big pond, which means we don’t have to get near each other. But if you want to stay here and fidget instead of working off some frustration with a swim, be my guest. I’m going for it.”

After Sam pulled his shirt up and over his head, the sight of his bare chest made speaking almost out of the question. “You are absolutely crazy, Sam McBriar.”

He tossed the T-shirt onto the hood, reached for his fly and grinned. “Maybe so, but you always liked me that way.”

Yes, she had. In a way, she still did. She hoisted herself back up on the truck and tried to keep her dangling legs completely motionless, a difficult task considering she had a near-naked, muscled man standing nearby. “I believe I’ll just sit here and
fidget
while you fend off the fish.”

Sam shrugged. “Your loss. But just so you know, I’m about to take off my jeans, in case you want to cover your delicate eyes.”

She wouldn’t close her eyes now if her life depended on it. “My
delicate
eyes have seen your boxers before.”

“I’m not wearing any.”

Savannah couldn’t manage even one appropriate comeback for his commando status. She simply stared at him, mouth partially agape and imagination running full steam ahead.

At least he had the decency to turn his back before he stripped out of his jeans, yet that didn’t stop Savannah from shamelessly studying his narrow hips and the back of his well-defined thighs and calves as he sauntered toward the bank. He could definitely serve as grand
marshal in a butt parade, she mused as he walked into the pond, obscuring her view.

Once he was waist-deep in the water, he turned and said, “Feels great. Are you sure you don’t want to try it?”

She started to comment on the possibility of snakes, but she knew exactly where that would lead. “I’m fine.”

No, she wasn’t. Not when he dove down beneath the surface and came up a few seconds later, skin glistening in the diffused light as he slicked one hand through his hair and ran a palm down his sternum in perfect male-model form. “Come on, Savannah. Back in the day, you wouldn’t have let a few fish stop you from having a good time.”

At the moment, the wildlife had little to do with her reluctance. The wet, wild man did. “Give me one good reason why I should jump into a catfish-infested body of water with you.”

“I’ll give you two.” He counted them down on his fingers. “You need to relax, and you’re itching to take a risk or two even if you won’t admit it to me or to yourself.”

He could read her like the Sunday paper. As uncertainty crowded her thoughts, she recalled her first summer in Placid when she’d come to this place with Sam. They’d been only buddies at that point, yet poised to move beyond friendship. He’d convinced her to take her turn with the rope tied to a tree that hung over the deepest part of the pond, encouraged her to let go while he waited below to catch her. The feelings had been thrilling when she’d released that rope, dropped into
the water, surfaced in his arms—and kissed him for the very first time, changing everything.

She dearly wanted to experience those emotions again. She wanted to toss her structured life to the wind and act on impulse.

In the name of lunacy, she was going to do it. She was going to bare it all and have a watery frolic with the former boyfriend.

“Okay, I’m coming in,” she called out, garnering Sam’s attention.

“I figured you would eventually.”

Savannah couldn’t see his face in the dim light, but she could hear the satisfaction in his voice. “First you have to promise not to look until I’m completely covered by water.”

He raised his hand as if taking an oath. “I promise to be the gentleman my daddy taught me to be.” Then he lowered his hand and added, “But I can’t promise I won’t grin while you bare it.”

“You can grin all you want as long as you keep your eyes closed.”

“It’s a deal.”

In spite of her suspicions that he might not comply, Savannah pulled her shirt over her head, just as he had a few minutes earlier. She shimmied out of her shorts and briefly weighed leaving her panties intact, but that meant she’d have to wear soggy drawers home—or not wear them home at all. Either way, she could be setting herself up for a questionable invitation. As if she wasn’t doing that now.

Savannah pitched all her clothes aside along with her
inhibitions and headed toward what could be another experience to deposit in the memory vault. Sam appeared to be obeying her request to keep his eyes shut as she tested the water with a toe. He confirmed that she’d given him too much credit when he said, “Nice tan lines.”

She practically flew into the pond, inadvertently falling forward and landing facedown in the water. She swam a little beyond Sam and when she emerged, she tried to appear as if she’d planned the whole thing, only to be met by Sam’s laughter.

“I’m so glad I amuse you,” she said as she pulled her sopping hair back and twisted it into a knot at her neck.

“I’m not exactly amused, ma’am,” he responded in that deadly Southern drawl. “And you’re not exactly covered.”

She followed his gaze and only then realized that the waterline came right below her bare breasts. Her first instinct—conceal herself. Her second—let him look his fill, consequences be damned.

If wisdom got a word in edgewise, Savannah would head for the hills. Instead, she chose to swim a few laps as far away from Sam as she could get without straying so much that she couldn’t see him. Midway through her second round, something nibbled at her ankle, sending her toward the bank with a freestyle stroke befitting an Olympian swimmer. Right when she reached Sam, she felt it again, and this time she shrieked.

“What’s wrong?” he said as he grabbed her arm to keep her afloat since she could barely touch the sandy bottom.

“Dammit, I’m being chased by a sea monster!”

When Sam’s laughter echoed across the pond, Savannah dug her nails into his biceps. “It’s not funny, Samuel.”

He winced and then said, “Would you stop clawing me?”

She loosened her grip but didn’t let him go. “This is exactly what I was afraid would happen.” She’d end up fish food, and too close to Sam for any reasonable comfort.

“Settle down, Savvy. I’ll protect you from the minnow.”

“My name is
Savannah,
and it wasn’t a minnow,” she insisted. “It nearly sucked the life out of my thigh.”

He cracked a crooked smile. “Lucky fish.”

“You are so…so…” Darned sexy, Savannah thought as he clasped her wrists and pulled her closer. And she was so in trouble when he looked at her as if swimming had disappeared from the agenda.

He moved farther into the pond, taking her with him until her feet could no longer find solid ground, forcing her to hold tightly to his shoulders.

He slowly spun them around, making Savannah all the more dizzy, but not necessarily due to the movement. “What are we doing, Sam?”

“Finishing our dance.”