Run Wild With Me (11 page)

Andrea knew that she’d pierced Sam to the core.

And it did matter. It mattered very much.

Andrea snapped the receipt book closed, swung her chair away from the desk, and propped her feet on the shelf of the file cabinet. The town had been too quiet. She hadn’t heard from Sam since the accident over a week ago, and after she’d finished telling Ed Pinyon off, she wasn’t likely to hear from him again either.

Perhaps it was just as well that Sam had avoided her. Andrea didn’t know how to face him. Mamie’s house had become some kind of symbol to Sam, a symbol of his past and his future. Not telling him about Ed’s plans to destroy the house hadn’t seemed important at the time. She’d considered it, but if Sam decided to stay, he’d have had first crack at the taxes. Since he’d admitted that he was moving on, she hadn’t wanted to destroy his memory of his grandmother’s house. She hadn’t thought of it as a lie, but Sam did. And his silence was all the more ominous.

For the last week Buck had checked in often but had left Andrea mostly on her own, a change from his past interference that didn’t ring true. What was even more peculiar was that he’d avoided any mention of Sam.

In Buck’s absence she’d finished every piece of office work to be done, watered the plants, caught up on the filing. She’d even swept out and mopped the jail. The only thing she hadn’t done was paint the outside of the building. And she’d have done that if she could have figured out how to keep paint off her uniform.

Andrea fanned herself with one of Buck’s paper fans and closed her eyes wearily. The thermometer on the outside window registered ninety-two degrees, and it was in the shade. She was short-tempered and restless. It was the heat, she’d told Buck. She just hadn’t admitted to herself that it was Sam Farley who generated her misery.

At the rate she was going, getting paint on her, uniform wouldn’t matter. The only two police-related calls she’d had since Otis drove through the corner of the house were a report from the state police saying they’d had a tip that the stolen heavy equipment was being sold in South America as part of a national ring of thefts and a domestic disturbance when Brad Dixon’s wife threw him out without his pants.

“I’m going stir-crazy,” she explained when Madge finally called to ask if she’d heard from Ed. “Ed’s a nice guy, but he and I are through. Honestly, I can’t believe that he’s really that broken up about me. I think it’s just that I was part of his master plan for success, and you know how important his future plans are.”

“Yeah, but who wants a ‘nice’ guy? Give me a guy like your stranger anytime.” Madge added, “I like the wicked kind.”

It wasn’t until lunchtime that Andrea gave in and asked Agnes where everybody was.

“Brad, Otis, and Buck are out at Sam’s place, helping repair the damage Otis did” was the surprising answer. ‘Sam’s place,’ not ‘Mamie’s.’ Andrea noted without comment the change of ownership. She also noted Agnes’s coolness, which only added to her misery.

“I’ll ring Sam for you.” Agnes was saying. It took Andrea a minute to understand what she’d said.

“Sam has a phone?”

“Sure. Got it last week. Needed it to organize the work on his house. He just called in an order of supplies to the hardware store. He’s probably still by the phone, if you want to talk to him.”

Before Andrea could say no, the phone was ringing.

“Sam Farley here.”

“Oh, Sam, I’m sorry about not telling you.” She hadn’t known what she’d say. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

There was a long silence.

“Maybe we ought to talk about that, darlin’. Why don’t you come by tonight, and we’ll have some discreet conversation.”

“Tonight?” Andrea couldn’t keep the breathlessness from her voice. “I don’t know, Sam. It isn’t—I don’t—I mean, you already know that I do. It’s …”

“It’s been seven days, Andrea, and that’s six
and a half too long for me. I could come into town if you’d rather.”

“Ah, no. Maybe I’ll just drive out and see what you’ve done to the house.”

A visit to see the progress on the house, that’s all it will be, she promised herself as she hung up the phone and went to the car. Nothing more. So he was repairing the house, becoming accepted in Arcadia, making friends. What did that mean?

It meant that the hurt would be even greater when he left.

Then why was she going to him?

Because she wanted to see him again.

Buck was ensconced in a chair under the plum tree, supervising. Otis and Brad Dixon were nailing Sheetrock on the new inside walls. A fresh coat of paint covered the rest of the house. On the roof Sam was standing upright, surveying the rusty tin.

His hair had grown longer in the last week. It was banded into what Buck would call a ponytail, with damp ringlets curling all over his head in the sunshine. He hadn’t shaved in the last day or so, and his dark beard made him look like a member of a motorcycle gang. Across his forehead he’d tied a red bandanna.

Glistening with perspiration, his thick mat of dark hair trailed across his chest and down into a pair of cutoff jeans slung wickedly low on his hips. As she got out of the car, she watched him lean down and pick up a leather carpenter’s apron, treating her to a suggestive view of a backside
that was as lean and tanned as the chest and long legs he exposed to the sun.

It was a pity he had to cover himself at all. It didn’t take much to imagine what was beneath that pair of formfitting cutoff jeans, and she felt a tingle of heat assault her that wasn’t caused by the sun. For a brief private moment she enjoyed her thoughts before Sam turned and caught her rapt expression.

His lips rippled in amusement as he nodded his recognition of the open desire on her face. He hooked his fingers in his belt loops and waited. For a moment she was sorely tempted to start the car and drive away.

And then Sam spoke. “Morning, darlin’. What do you think?”

He wasn’t angry anymore. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. “You’re making good progress,” she answered as calmly as she could, knowing that every eye had turned toward her.

“Well, Andy,” Buck said, “it took you long enough to get out here.”

“I … I was just going home to lunch and decided to drop by. The house looks good.”

“Sam’s a fine worker. Takes real pride in his work.”

“I see you’ve changed your opinion, Buck.”

“Yes. Well, I thought to begin with that he wasn’t our kind of people. But, truth is, I’ve seen the sparkle in your eye since he’s come. I’d hoped that Ed would be the one to put it there, but I was wrong. When I saw how things were between you and Sam, I decided to give the boy a chance.”

“No, Buck, you …,”—“you’re wrong,” Andrea
started to say, then changed her mind. She’d lied to Buck once about David, and she’d sworn when she’d come back home that she’d never do that again. “I wish it had been Ed,” she finally admitted. “It would have been so much simpler.”

“Love isn’t simple, Andy. And it isn’t easy. There are times when it hurts. But when it’s good, it’s worth any of the hurt, for as long as it lasts.”

“For as long as it lasts.” That’s what Sam had said. Andrea risked one more look at the roof. Sam was standing on the edge, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as if he were waiting for her to ask him to come down.

“Say, Buck,” Otis spoke up, “we’re gonna need more paint before we can do anything else. With the social tonight, maybe we’ll just knock off on any more work today.”

Buck looked at Otis and back at Andrea. “You sure you’ll be all right here, Andy?”

“No, but I might as well find out, Buck.”

Buck looked at Sam and back at Andrea. “I guess I’m still just a father. I told you once that Sam reminds me a little of me. There was a time after your mother left when I might have hit the road if I hadn’t had you. I stayed, and I think Sam is thinking of staying too. He just doesn’t know it yet. Don’t let him hurt you, Andy.”

“I think it may be too late for that, Buck.”

“Maybe we’ll just run back later with the paint. So we’ll have it here tomorrow.”

What Buck was saying was that she could have her time with Sam, but he’d be back later if she needed him. She nodded gratefully and watched him crawl awkwardly into the back of the Bronco.

After Buck and Otis left, Andrea walked up on the porch. She might as well face Sam and get it over with. He might have played this kind of game everywhere he went, but it was new to her. Still, there was something to be said for honesty. Her mother and David had made promises that turned out to be lies. Sam wasn’t doing that. And maybe she wouldn’t lie to herself anymore either.

Sam climbed down the ladder, came through the house, and met her in the hallway.

Up close, the jeans were damp and pressed against him like a second sheet of wet satiny skin, outlining every part of what her mind had imagined earlier. Her lips parted as she followed the tattered edge of the jeans down his legs, taking in the muddy, laced-up, high-top work shoes and the stretched thick white socks that wrinkled around the muscular calves of his legs.

“I’ve missed you, Sam. I thought you’d be angry with me.”

“I was, until I realized why you didn’t tell me what Ed planned to do. You know how I would feel about the house being torn down. Nobody’s ever cared about that except my mother. I’m not mad anymore.”

Andrea didn’t know what to say. She had been the one who’d been wrong, but it was Sam who was apologizing, Sam who was holding her with love in his eyes.

She was so caught up in the fantasy of feeling that damp skin against her own that she didn’t answer. He was too close, and the feeling was too heady. This time she let it happen, the honest admission of her desire, the open response to the
question he was asking without words. And when he kissed her, she didn’t hold back. The heat of the day was lost in the heat of two bodies melted together. Sam widened his stance, cupping his hands beneath her and lifting her roughly into the evidence of his need.

Tearing his lips away, he looked down at her with wild-eyed intensity. “Lord, I’ve missed you, missed your prim schoolteacher reprimands, your stormy blue eyes when I kiss you, your shock when I touch your breasts. I’ve never wanted a woman so bad in my life, and it gets worse every time I see you all covered up in that man’s uniform,” he croaked, unbuttoning her shirt.

“I know,” she murmured, reaching for the buttons on his jeans. “You’ve turned me into some wild creature that I don’t even know. And I don’t care. I want you too.”

“No wait. Not here in the hall,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t want Buck and Otis as observers.”

“Not to worry,” she said breathing heavily. “They’ve decided that everybody should knock off work for the day.”

“You mean we’re going to be alone?”

“For a while. They’re bringing the paint back later.”

Sam groaned and reached for the clasp of her bra.

“Wait, Sam, I have a better idea. Do you have a blanket?”

He gulped. “Yes.”

“Get it and come with me.” She pulled her shirt-front together and started out the door and across the porch.

Sam disappeared into the house for a moment, then caught up with her, a blanket under his arm. Beyond the sweet-gum tree he took her hand, looped it behind her back, and pulled her against him to kiss her again. She ripped the bandanna from his head, threading her fingers through his hot, wet hair as she felt his rough hand capture her breasts.

“Not yet.” She pulled away breathlessly. “We aren’t there yet.”

“I hope it isn’t far,” he said, relinquishing his hold on her breast as he allowed her to move again. “Otherwise I’ll never make it.”

Past the sweet gum and behind the barn they moved, down a path of rich dark earth that gave way to the cool quiet of a pine thicket so dense that they were cut off from the world.

“Here?” He questioned, swinging her around against him once more. There was a rippling sound that whispered through the quiet. The woods seemed to catch its breath, and Andrea felt dizzy as she fought to draw air into her lungs.

“No.” She pulled away and ran forward. “Only a few more feet, to”—she pulled back a short stand of cedar trees and stepped beyond—“here.” She stopped and waited for him to take in the secret place she was sharing with him.

In the center of the pine thicket a spring churned up from a wavy boulder-strewn hole in the earth. The water was mirror clear, dancing with the sparkle of bright sunlight that sifted through the trees. At the far end of the pool, the water spilled over a flat strip of mossy rock and ran off into the brush.

Sam looked at the creek, then back at her with
an expression of awe. Suddenly she was shy. She retreated, wondering where the passion had gone. Sam spread the blanket across the bed of pine needles and began to untie and remove his heavy work shoes and socks, exposing big feet that were several shades lighter than his legs.

There was no turning back, and Andrea couldn’t understand her reluctance. For the past three weeks every time she’d closed her eyes, she’d seen him standing nude and aroused before her. There hadn’t been a man in her life since David, no matter what Ed Pinyon had led the world to believe. She waited, listening to the sound of the springwater boiling to the surface. She closed her eyes and wished he’d kiss her, wash away the panic that threatened her.

“Come here, woman.”

Andrea opened her eyes. He was standing before her, completely nude as she’d imagined him. His slow smile told her that he understood her hesitancy. “If it helps, I feel a little like a seventeen-year-old worrying about whether or not he can do what he’s supposed to do without making the girl laugh.” And then it was all right.

Sweet sun-warmed kisses met her lips and teased her into that same seventeen-year-old feeling. Roughened fingertips fluttered across her shirt, turning her breasts into aching peaks. He slipped his hands beneath her pants, and slid them down to her ankles, where she stepped out of them.

She expected an explosion of passion that would roar through them both. What she got was the slow tenderness of a gentle man, examining, touching with a spiritual wonder that swept away her
last conscious reservation. The calluses on his palms acted as sandpaper against her nipples, and the erotic circle he traced on her abdomen sent fiery shock waves across her body. She was melting as the intensity of the heat of their love-making joined with the heat of the sun, creating a fiery sensation that threatened to erupt before either was ready.