Resisting Samantha (Hope Parish Novels Book 10) (6 page)

“Wow, my
sister has had an influence on you.”

“I’d die
for her. Hands down, no hesitation. Anger and resentment? Man, that
gets old, and if you don’t find some middle ground and let go,
it’s damn lonely. Every time your name comes up in
conversation, your momma gets a bit teary-eyed. You should think
about coming home, put this all behind you.”

His words hit me
hard, and after all this time, my guilt, my loneliness, the loss of
my family, and my fear that my family had moved on without me was a
sickening revelation. If they could do it, why couldn’t I?

***

After brunch, there
was a pool party, then after that the fish fry, but never were my
thoughts far from Samantha. What Brax discussed with me at Imogene’s
would end my isolation. Maybe it was time for me to offer an olive
branch. I didn’t expect a favorable outcome, but this deal he
was offering would connect me.

“Brax,”
I said when I finally spotted him in the happy crowd. He extricated
himself from the conversation he was having with Boone.

“What’s
up?”

“I’ll
take the deal. Draw up the papers.”

He reached out his
hand and we bumped fists. “You know, it might be a good idea to
hire some people to help you out. Ethan has been bartending for me,
but I think he’d jump at the chance. I don’t make this
suggestion lightly. He’s a damn fine bartender, and I don’t
particularly want to lose him,” he grumbled. “But, what
the hell? It’s for family.”

Ethan had tried to
make a connection with me since he returned home, but I hadn’t
been receptive. It seemed a lot of the people from my past had gotten
the boot. I wasn’t sure he would want to reconnect after the
way I ignored him. At least Brax doesn’t push it.

“Think about
it,” Brax said before turning to greet another guest.

But I shied away
from it. I will say getting to spend time with my uncle and aunt was
nice. Aunt Evie sure could dance, and getting acquainted with my
nephews made the discomforts worthwhile. But the icy silence from my
brother and the tension between my daddy and momma hadn’t
abated.

And I had no idea
what to say to them.

Finally, I was able
to escape, but I had actually lost track of time, and it was late,
past midnight. I drove to Imogene’s, but it was closed and
dark.

Feeling it was
important to find out what had troubled her this morning—clearly
something more than a broken plate—I headed for Samantha’s
house.

There was no way I
was going to go home before seeing her. I couldn’t stay away.

The drapes were
drawn, but the outside light was on, so I parked and all but sprinted
to her front door. I knocked, and was about to turn away after a few
minutes when the door opened. “I didn’t think you were
going to answer.” I swore silently, praying I wouldn’t
embarrass myself, which would really ruin my night, when it suddenly
dawned on me that the universe might be trying to tell me something.
I’d been in closer proximity to Samantha, more often, in the
past week than I had been since I met her.

“I almost
didn’t,” she said, her husky voice doing something to me
that I couldn’t control.

“I’ll
go, but I don’t want to. Say the word.”

She stepped to the
side. “No. Don’t go. Come in. I’m pretty freaked
out, and kinda confused, and more than a little scared.”

I didn’t need
any more encouragement. She closed the door behind me, and said, with
a shrug, “I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything, not
even a chair. I’m still putting things together.”

“It’s
all right. You can sit on the mattress. I’ll sit on the floor.
I don’t mind.”

She had a small
table near her makeshift bed in the corner of the room, her laptop
beside it on the floor, and on the table were two books and a small
red bag.

“I’m
afraid you’ll think I’m a nutcase and high-tail it out of
here. I can’t lose you as a vendor,” she murmured, then
swallowed. “Or as a…friend.”

The air in her home
was cool and comfortable, a boon during the steamy night. She wrapped
her arms around her and bowed her head. I reached out and tipped up
her chin. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you.”

Her long, chestnut
hair was in a lose ponytail that rested on her shoulder, gleaming in
the light.

“Tell me,”
I said, leading her over to the mattress. As she folded down and sat
cross-legged, I dropped to the floor and leaned against the wall.

She explained to me
how she’d noticed the missing piece of cake, seen the Black
woman, and found the small red bag containing, among other things,
the necklace her husband gave her when they married…and which
she never took off. “It’s voodoo magic. A gris-gris bag.”

She dumped out the
contents and showed me where the heart was engraved on the silver
star. “Do you think I’m bonkers?”

“No. Stranger
things have happened, and there are some things that are
unexplainable, but I would say that, if the Black woman was Imogene,
she meant you no harm. In fact, it looks like she’s trying to
protect you.”

“It’s
not Imogene.” She reached for one of the books. Opening it, she
took out a photo. “This is the woman I saw in my kitchen.”

I took the faded
photo of a stunning Black woman dressed in a simple blue dress with
an apron. Penciled at the bottom was: AnnClaire.

“Chase, I
don’t know what she’s protecting me from.” Her
distress made me move closer, and Samantha reached out and gripped
the front of my shirt with both hands. She dragged me closer. “Why
are you watching me?”

“I don’t
know. I feel something is out of balance. I can’t explain it,”
I murmured, her scent making me dizzy, the feel of her small hands on
me distracting and arousing.

“I feel it,
too.” Her brown eyes searched mine, and what she saw there
seemed to be what she needed. Her face softened and she raised her
hand and very gently touched my face, ran her fingertips over my
cheekbone and down to my jaw, where she dragged her fingertips back
and forth over the stubble. My resolve was crumbling under her light
but sensual touch.

Her lips parted, and
she expelled a small, heated puff of air. “You are so
beautiful. The way you look at me makes my head spin.”

I inhaled when she
ran her thumb over my bottom lip.

“Samantha,”
I whispered, then covered her mouth with mine. Her lips were
incredibly soft, her breath catching on a small, eager sound, her
hand cupping my jaw so tenderly, then delving into the hair just
above my ear, then her whole palm was against the side of my head,
her fingers tightening in my hair.

When I heard her
ragged sigh, a sigh of surrender and female satisfaction which I felt
all the way down to my groin, I deepened the kiss with no hesitation.
It felt so right as I slid my tongue inside wet heat, into sensual
seduction of her mouth—into serious trouble. There was no
retreat, only moving forward.

I’d wanted to
kiss her with every cell. If I’d known it would be better than
I could have imagined, I’m not sure I could have waited this
long. It was a good thing I’d been ignorant, because I hadn’t
known it would make wanting the rest of her right the fuck now so
much more intense.

I should have
expected it. She’d driven me hardcore crazy, and I needed this
days ago, this heated, tender contact. The feel of her filled
something empty inside me, something that had been hollow for a long,
long time.

She made another
soft, surrendering sound in her throat, her arms sliding up around my
neck, the fingers of both hands now tunneling through my hair. I
gathered her close and lifted her, spun around and settled her on my
lap as I leaned against the side of the bed.

She couldn’t
mistake how she affected me from the position she was in. But she
didn’t pull away, holding onto me like her life depended on it.
The next heated sound was my own, deep, low, gasping. I breathed her
in and teased her, rubbing my lips over hers, licking the plump
bottom’s fullness, biting her so very, very gently, and I
whispered her name again.

“
Samantha
.
Beautiful, sweet Sammy.”

She made a soft,
distressed sound in the back of her throat, stiffening up. She bolted
off my lap, kneeling on the floor and covering her face with her
hands.

“Damn,
Samantha. What’s wrong?” Everything inside me froze,
except my heart, which plummeted into the pit of my stomach. A
hundred emotions flooded me, and I knew then that I was hooked, and
in deep, deep trouble. I had planned to take it slow with her, not
move too fast and blow it. There were so many reasons to just get up
and go, but I couldn’t seem to hang onto even one of them.

There was no going
back, so I closed and bolted the door to my escape.

SAMANTHA

This
was
happening.
Had
happened. I’d touched Chase the way I have longed to so for
months. Touched him and kissed him, and wasn’t surprised by the
feelings of guilt and betrayal. But I suspected that any change would
have caused an upheaval, and it was time to decide how I was going to
handle the adjustment. Transitions could sometimes be very volatile.
And terrifying.

There was no doubt I
wanted to kiss him some more, take him in great gulps and never look
back, but out of the blue I’d been smashed to smithereens by
one tenderly whispered nickname, reminding me that starting over had
some pitfalls along the way.

“Samantha. I’m
dying here. Talk to me. What’s wrong?” He probably didn’t
know how to handle this any more than I did.

I looked at him, and
my heart melted, even as it was scrambling to assimilate all the
emotions I had been dealing with since the loss of Jeff and Scott, as
well as the newfound feelings for this strong, gorgeous, but also
damaged, local man.

I’d lived long
enough in Suttontowne to know all about the Suttons. I’d been
through enough of River Pearl’s love affair with Braxton to
know that there were some major issues going on with her family and
her brothers. Chase was the fallen son who had disappeared into the
bayou. My own hang-ups aside, I was deeply interested in why the
family brunch had been so strained. Why he hadn’t managed to
work out his family differences.

Well, we’d
been dancing around each other for a couple of years, so I supposed
it was time I talked to him.

“Sammy is what
my husband used to call me. His name was Jeff, and he was a
firefighter.”

His eyes widened and
he sat up straight, immediate conciliation washing over his face as
he squeezed his eyes shut with a soft groan. When he opened them,
they were filled with apology. “Sugar…I didn’t
mean to hurt you,” he said gruffly.

I pulled myself out
of my own morass of pain and heartache to soothe him. “I know
that, Chase. I knew you had no idea. It’s just that old
memories have a way of socking you in the jaw when you least expect
it. I’m attracted to you. I think that’s obvious, since
we’ve been gravitating toward each other since we first met.”

He nodded. “Can’t
deny that one after the kiss we just shared.” Letting his
breath go in a ragged sigh, he said, “Even with all the gossip
in this town, I know very little about you. So I had no idea you were
married before.”

I took a breath.
“Yes, for years. Chase, this will be hard to hear, so brace
yourself.” As a former cop I had been on both sides of the
coin, as law enforcer and victim, so I had an idea this would be
genuinely upsetting for him. “My husband and two-year-old son
were murdered in our apartment. Their deaths were never solved, and I
couldn’t bear staying there after what happened.”

“
Jesus!
”
He jerked back, absorbing the jolt of my words, the shock making his
face go white, his eyes stark. “Jesus, I’m so sorry. That
had to be so hard. Sorry I brought up something so personal, and that
it hurt you.”

His reaction made my
chest hurt even more, the pain blinding me for a moment. This dredged
up everything, but I needed to put it all in perspective. I couldn’t
go picking at emotional lint again. That would get me nowhere. And,
at this point in my life, I was starting to want to get somewhere
again. “Thank you.” We stared at each other for a moment,
his face so earnest, his eyes so caring.

He reached out and
dragged me against him, and I clung to him. It felt amazing. “I
might as well tell you everything,” I muttered against his
neck.

He tightened his
hold, massaging the back of my neck, giving me the reassurance I
needed. “I’m ready to listen.”

I looked at the
clock. “Do you want to go to Imogene’s and get some pie
and coffee, or did you already consume enough food today?”

“I’ll
take you up on the coffee and pie. I didn’t eat much at the
fish fry. Too tense, I guess. Do you have any of that leftover crab
cheesecake?” he asked with a hopeful lift to his tone and a
boyish tilt of his head that made me laugh. “I wouldn’t
say no to that.”

“Aren’t
you the charming one?”

He dropped his eyes,
his outrageously thick lashes bronze over those silver blue eyes, and
I was charmed all over again, barely managing not to give him the
kind of hug I’d give a scruffy six-year-old….

“I do have
some left over,” I conceded. We got into his car.

“I know we
kissed, and that kiss was breathtaking and awesome, but can we just
agree that we’ll be friends for now?”

“Friends?”
The light from an oncoming car illuminated his pitying look. “I
don’t think so. I’m beyond that right now, but we can
agree to shake hands instead of kiss if that helps.”

“More charm?”
My heart felt light, even with the weight of my lost family, and I
smiled, then laughed. Chase intrigued me on so many levels…mental,
emotional, and physical. Definitely physical, but I didn’t want
body parts to cloud up the issue with him. I also didn’t want
to lose this connection with him. “I’m sure that was a
joke.”