Hot Mess (12 page)

"Charmed, Miss Fairchild. What do you do? Maybe there's a story there? This town is so small. Sometimes I feel like I have to dig deep to find anything to write about." She laughed an insincere laugh that did nothing to reassure Rachel. She certainly didn't want to be on this lady's radar.

"I work from home, Miss Simmons. Nothing interesting, I'm afraid." The pressure of Sam's hand on her back propelled her around the woman, and Rachel let out a sigh of relief as they walked away.

Their table was in the middle, set up with place cards, and a hispanic couple was already seated, side by side, but had turned their chairs so they were facing each other.

"Hey Juan."

The man looked up and smiled, his hand remaining on his date's knee. "Sam!" His affable smile soothed Rachel's nerves, until he turned his attention to her. "You must be Rachel." Holding out his hand to shake hers, he introduced her to his date. "This is Veronica, my fiancée." Turning to Sam, he winked. "You were right, man. She is something else." He leaned over the table, and switched some place cards around before motioning for Sam and Rachel to sit next to them.

Veronica looked at Rachel, politely extending her hand, then her eyes widened when she took in Rachel's dress.

"Oh! I love your dress! Where'd you get it?"

Rachel threw a shy glance at Sam, who was grinning at her in approval. "Um…It was a gift, so I don't know where it came from. But, thank you. Yours is pretty, too." She was sincere, too. Veronica's dress was a long, form-fitting gown with dark blue satin under black lace.

Juan nodded appreciatively. "My mamacita looks hot…" before burying his mouth on her neck, amid squeals of giggles from Veronica, who pushed him away, turning back to Rachel.

"You can dress them up, but you can't take them anywhere."

Rachel laughed and sat down next to Veronica. "Have you guys been together long?" A hand on her thigh stilled her, and she looked down to see Sam's hand had resumed its position he had seemed to enjoy so much in the car. Thankfully, this time it was still, and not moving in those tempting little circles.

"We've been together two years. It took him too long to pop the question, though. I'm pushing for a May wedding." Juan groaned and tried to get Sam's attention around the women.

"Hey Sam. You see that new building going up downtown? They're supposed to turn it into a new antique shop or something. Like we need another one of those."

The table filled quickly, while everybody chatted. Sam seemed to know everyone at the table, Rachel presumed most of them were on his crew. She visited with Veronica, since she didn't really feel comfortable yelling across the din of the table at the other dates.

Sam's hand was a warm and heavy presence on her leg the entire night. She wasn't sure if it was a possessive thing, or maybe just reassurance, but she liked it, regardless.

When dinner was served, most of the men quieted down to eat. Rachel turned to Juan, "What do you do when you're not working or with Veronica?" She was just trying to make friendly conversation and was forcing herself to open up to these people. If she and Sam were going to have a go at the dating thing, she needed to like his friends.

He finished chewing before he answered her, "Anything outdoors. Hunting, fishing, that kind of thing. I love to barbecue, too."

Sam joined in the conversation. "Where do you fish? I haven't found a good spot here, yet."

Rachel took a bite of the chicken breast stuffed with artichokes and listened to the men talk about fishing. It was interesting, but she hadn't been since she was a child. She felt bad that she'd never exposed Sophia to it. Like Sam, she didn't know of any places to go fishing around here. It was a little embarrassing to admit, though. She'd lived here a lot longer than Sam.

Her ears perked up at Sam's voice. "My mom used to take me fishing. Those were some of my favorite memories from childhood. I want to share that with 'Manda, now that we've got a place to settle." His hand squeezed her thigh affectionately, and Rachel wondered if she was a part of his "settling" plans. Her heart fluttered at the thought, then she panicked a little. She'd never envisioned a man in her future. Suddenly Sam had seemed to wiggle his way into her life and she wasn't sure how to cope with it.

"I've got a good spot I go to when the weather's right. You should come with me some time." Juan's affable voice soothed her panic. Sam was making plans with friends, not her. The thought calmed her somewhat, but his hand on her thigh was a constant reminder of her thought of what might happen later tonight. She was an adult, a single female in the twenty-first century. She knew what events could lead up to.

About half-way through dinner, an announcement was made that the silent auction would be closing its bids in an hour.

"I never got a chance to look at the auction items. Do you mind if I go look?" Rachel turned to Sam, whose eyes immediately widened in surprise.

"No, of course not. Let's go." Holding her elbow, he rose with her, and led her through the tables out into the area where the auction items were set up in a row.

There were framed art pieces by local artists, a basket of wines from a local winery, baskets of jams from a local bakery, a basket of chevre from a local cheese-maker, a set of signed books from a local author, an autographed picture of the president of the United States, and several other nice items. There was a gift card for a spa in town that Rachel bid on. The entire time, Sam was behind her, holding her waist, looking over her shoulder, breathing in her ear, making it difficult to concentrate.

He inhaled deeply at one point in her perusal.

"What are you doing, Sam?" She asked with a giggle in the back of her throat.

"You just smell so good. I could eat you up." His voice was guttural and low in her ear, and it sent a shiver to her tummy. His mouth on her earlobe tickled, and she giggled again.

"I'm having a really good time, tonight. Thanks for making me come out." She turned to look at him. His pupils had widened, darkening his eyes, which stared at her with inscrutable intensity.

Softly, he said, "It is my pleasure, Rachel." The way her name sounded on his tongue made her think of lying naked on a furry carpet in her living room in front of a roaring fire, with champagne in hand, and Sam feeding her strawberries. She shook her head to clear the vision from her mind. She couldn't go there, yet. But seeing him standing here in front of her, with his dress uniform clinging to his broad shoulders, his sandy blond hair, a little too long to be professional, his steady gaze boring into her, melting her insides, she couldn't remember
why
she couldn't go there.

"I can't wait to get you home." Slowly, he lowered his head, and Rachel panicked momentarily, before his lips covered hers in a chaste kiss that held promises of so much more to come. "I want to kiss those beautiful legs all over."

She blushed, suddenly intoxicated with his scent, his masculinity, and the fact that he wanted her. But she had to keep her head. "We need to talk, first."

He squeezed her hand. "We'll have plenty of time for all that. Ready to go back to the table? Or do you want to sneak out of here now?"

She needed to get her head on straight, before she sat in the car with Sam again. "Table."

He nodded and led her back to where they'd been eating. She couldn't help but admire his backside, strong shoulders, tapered waist, firm butt. Too bad it was covered by his jacket. She sighed, and he threw a knowing grin over his shoulder at her, before pulling out her chair for her.

"What's the bid up to for the Spa?" Veronica asked her.

Rachel told her what she'd just bid on it, and Veronica jumped up and ran to put another bid on it, before it closed.

Sam chuckled to himself as he sat down, having overheard the exchange. Rachel turned to him. "What?"

"You girls and your spa days."

"Everybody needs a little pampering, now and then." Rachel whispered to herself, not intending for Sam to hear.

His hand inched back to her thigh. "I'd pamper you, Rachel." His voice was so soft, she barely heard it over the other guests talking, but the implications were clear. She took a sip of water to clear the sudden lump in her throat.

They continued their meal, Sam talking to Juan and Rachel talking to Veronica, the group talking together. The other people at the table were men and their wives that Sam had met, and he'd introduced them all to Rachel, but he didn't seem to know them all that well, and she couldn't remember all the names. If someone spoke to her, she answered, and was as gracious as possible, but she really wanted to go home and talk to Sam. She knew what they wanted to do, but she needed to tell him first.

So he could go ahead and reject her before she got too attached.

As soon as the dinner plates were cleared, and before the dessert plates were set out, Sam excused himself. She discreetly admired his backside as he walked away, presumably to go to the men's room. A nudge in her side distracted her.

"They clean up good, don't they? I wish Juan would come home in his dress uniform every night, if you know what I mean."

Rachel blushed, embarrassed she'd been so transparent in her admiration of her date. She wondered who else had seen her trying to scope out Sam's butt. Furtively glancing around the table, she saw that no one else seemed to have noticed.

"It's okay. Juan says Sam really likes you."

"I hope so." Rachel muttered. Her life was suddenly getting complicated, and she had to admit the idea had possibilities.

"Shut up, girl. Look at you. You are hot! Have you seen the way he's looking at you?"

The deejay started playing soft music as Sam returned to the table, interrupting Veronica's flow of chatter about how much he liked Rachel, much to her relief. She flashed him a smile, and he squeezed her thigh under the table, as soon as he sat down.

Dessert came, a cherry chevre tartlet, with a flaky crust. When she cut into it, creamy cherry goodness oozed out. It was delicious.

"Do you have much of a sweet tooth?" Sam murmured in her ear.

Rachel nodded. "Yes. I love sweets. Why?"

"You didn't finish your chicken, and it looks like you're about to lick that cherry juice off your plate. And all those moans from over there are making me a little jealous."

There was an unmistakable twinkle in his eye, and his thumb on her thigh, which had been mercifully still all night, now began drawing slow circles, while his fingers slipped toward her inner thigh and squeezed. Rachel stiffened.

"Was I that loud? I didn't realize…"

His mouth was on her ear again, sending shivers coursing through her. "I'm in tune with you Rachel. I can hear your breathing, your chewing, and yes, your moaning. Relax. I'm not going to do anything to you with my boss right over there."

His hand slipped almost imperceptibly up her skirt, and Rachel shifted slightly, trying to get him to stop moving upward, but Sam persisted. He leaned over to say something to Juan about fishing, and Rachel tried to look nonchalant, while Sam's fingers continued torturing her thighs. Heart pounding, she weakly took a sip of water.

His hand suddenly stopped moving up her thigh, and grabbed her hand instead. Rachel felt a moment of relief, until he whispered in her ear, "Let's dance." Pulling her up, Sam led Rachel to the dance floor before she could respond, and pulled her close to him. Of course, it was a slow dance.

They moved together in rhythm, and Rachel could feel the length of his body against hers. She rested her cheek on his hard chest, inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne, feeling the coarse fabric of his uniform on her face, listening to his heart pounding in her ear. His arms tightened around her, and he was silent as they moved around the dance floor.

"Tell me more about your mother," Rachel said, desperate to calm her insides. Hopefully, listening to him talk about his mother would suppress this insatiable desire he was stirring in her.

"She died of cancer when I was twenty-two." His voice was soft in her ear, as if what he was saying was for her only. "She was an amazing woman. An awesome mother, a dedicated wife, she was funny, a good cook. She lived for her family." He stopped talking, and she looked up at him.

He was looking down at her, and his eyes held a tenderness that took her breath away. "You remind me a lot of her, in some ways." He squeezed her against his body briefly, "And not so much in other ways." A wry grin spread across his face, making her giggle nervously.

Okay, so talking about his mother hadn't worked. "She sounds nice." Rachel rested her cheek on his chest again, feeling content to just be held by Sam, and move.

Rachel listened to his heartbeat and imagined a life with Sam. Going to sleep in his arms, taking the girls to the park together, his breakfasts every weekend. She sighed, apparently a little louder than she realized, because he chuckled. She could hear it deep in his chest and feel it as he shook with it. She decided not to question him about what was funny. She knew. He was getting to her, and he knew it.

As the song ended, he spun her around gracefully, warm hand on her back sending tingles up her spine, before leading her back to the table. Envelopes were passed out to the winners of the silent auction items, and to Rachel's surprise, Sam received one. She hadn't seen him bid on anything. He accepted it graciously, putting it in the inside pocket of his jacket, before resuming his ministrations on her thigh.