Some Day Somebody (28 page)

“Dear God, I love your mouth,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

She groaned as he buried his face into the crook of her neck.

“And you smell so damn good. Is that the same perfume you always wear?”

“Eau de gumbo?” she said, unable to resist. When he responded in a voice deep and raspy with need...half groan, half chuckle...she couldn’t make herself laugh.

“You have the most remarkable eyes I’ve ever seen.” His finger trailed down the side of her face and across the slope of her jaw line. “And you said it’s called
Obsessed,
or something like that?”

“Um...Obsession.”
Her lids closed heavily, drugged with a sudden satisfaction that all was as it should be. Her head drooped forward to rest upon his chest as she felt the soft massage of long fingers against her scalp.
Oh...My...God.
She felt him, his breath, his heartbeat, his need for her.

The sudden
BANG
against the wood siding of the house jarred them.

“What the hell?” Sam leaned over to glare through the gaping black hole of the double windows behind the Christmas tree. Carrie clung too tightly to do anything but move with him. Nothing but darkness, muted by multicolored shadows from the tree lights reflected back at them.

“Stay here, so I can check that out.”

“Like hell I will.”
 
Her voice, shrill with tension and terror, sounded foreign to her own ears. He tried again to make her stay put, but she refused.

“Okay, but stay close,” he warned. Needlessly, as it turned out, since she’d already latched on to him like lint to one of those
as seen on
t.v
.
dusters.

Once outside, they investigated the area around the double windows, finding nothing.

“Do you think the wind blew something against the side of the house?” she asked.

“It’s one possibility, I guess—”

“But you don’t think so?”

“I didn’t say that.” He peered into the darkness before draping his arm around Carrie’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s go back inside.”

Once inside, she caught her gaze going to the blackness outside the windows. “Can we close those curtains?”

He released the tie-backs until the drapes fell into place, sealing out the darkness. “Hey Baby, can you promise me something?”

“Depends...”

“Next time I ask you to stay inside, could you please do that? I mean, considering everything that’s happened—”

“No.”

“Final word?”

“For now, I feel a lot safer with
you
than alone in a house.”

“Even if you’d be locked inside?”

“Yep...”

Sam’s jaw line worked as he clenched his teeth. “I guess I
could
take that as a compliment—”

“You should.”

Sam gave his eyes a dramatic roll.

“Sam,” she said, her voice soft, but insistent. “Look at me.” Carrie smiled at the look of resigned worry in his eyes, recognizing his concern. She brought both hands to the side of his face and pulled it level to her own. When she could see straight into his eyes she gave him a tentative smile. “Have I told you how much I love it when you call me Baby?”

Sam cocked his head to the side, and gave her a sheepish grin. “I aim to please.”

She looped her arms around his neck as The
Uniques
crooned
Warm and Tender Love
from the speakers. The local radio station D.J. promised another hour of belly rubbing Swamp Pop from the sixties. They swayed in unison to the music as winds rattled the windows in the small living room. Flames of the gas space heater flickered with the draft as Sam maneuvered her closer to the warmth.

She flexed her shoulders and groaned as the waves of heated air radiated up her back.

“I know,” he muttered. “It gets pretty cold in here when the wind comes in from the north. I plan to change those old windows out.” His gaze settled on her. “This place needs some work.”

She studied the room as if giving it an appraisal. “It’s a nice place.”

“I’ve always thought so, but I’ve been
told
that I get too set in my ways and resist change.”

“Yeah?” she answered with some amusement. “If I stick around long enough, maybe you’ll let me whip you into shape.”

He raised one brow. “I’m whip-able, and you’re sure as hell welcome to try.”

She smiled and put her head down on his shoulder as they continued to dance to the old song. Suddenly, she could picture them dancing just like this, years from now, in this same house, their hair peppered with silver, their faces wrinkled, and surrounded by pictures of grandchildren and great grandchildren.

Instead of comforted by the image, Carrie felt a sudden rush of panic, as though things were moving far too quickly. She cleared her throat and moved away from him, pretending to be calmer than she felt. “I have to go now, Sam.”

He frowned in disappointment.
“So soon?”

“I...I just realized how much I have to do.” She pressed one hand against her stomach, queasy with nerves, as she reached for her purse with the other. At the door, she turned, letting her gaze settle on him. “Thanks for all your help.”

She saw momentary confusion cross his features as he nodded and lowered his head to kiss her goodnight. Instead of raising her lips to him, she turned so that his mouth grazed her cheek. She gave him a stiff smile and turned to walk out the door.

He caught her wrist, halting her escape. “Don’t leave me like this without at least telling me what I did wrong.”

The metal handle of the storm door was cold in her grip in sharp contrast to his warm hand on her wrist.  “Honestly, you did nothing wrong, Sam. It’s happening too fast, that’s all.” She grasped his hand tightly, and found the courage to face him. “It scares me.”

“What does?”

Carrie scanned his living room, then the porch with brightly colored Christmas lights, and finally landed on the large blue cross on his lawn. “This.” She lifted her hands to indicate all of it. “You...the
way
you make me feel. It’s wonderful, but I’m afraid I’ll find myself in the same situation, because I let it happen too fast.”

Sam released her wrist. “It wasn’t my intent to pressure you.” One brow lifted cockily as he grinned at her. “You could let me gloat a little for making you feel that way, even if it scares you.”

“Oh, Lord. I can see your ego inflate as we speak.”

He pulled her to him for a hug. “I can’t help it, Carrie. I’m proud as hell that you’d even consider dating me.”

She dropped her head back and groaned. By the time she straightened to kiss him, on the lips, this time, she’d accepted her defeat. “All right, Sam, you win, but I really do have to go.” Chills ran up her spine at the chuckle rumbling deep in his chest.

“After that, I’ll let you.”

She pulled her hand out of his and walked to her car, smiling to herself.

Sam stood at the end of his sidewalk, watching her tail lights disappear around the corner. He gazed up at the clear, star-filled sky, thinking about the day’s events. The sound of a diesel engine starting up caught his attention. A cold dread crept up his spine as he watched the pick-up pull out from in front of Carrie’s rent house. The two-toned truck drove slowly along his street then slowed to a near stop directly in front of him. He couldn’t see past the dull glow of the dash lights, but he felt Dave’s gaze on him.

Sam walked determinedly towards the truck, his hand reaching for the door handle. He slapped the side of the vehicle, swearing loudly as Dave sped off after Carrie.

Feeling for his keys, he swore again as he realized they were inside. Sam jumped the steps, and ran to the key rack, knowing in his gut they wouldn’t be there. “Shit! Where’d I put the damn things?” He spun around, now in full panic mode, and saw them hanging off the edge of the counter top. In five seconds he was out the door and down his steps. His truck’s engine barely had time to catch before he threw it in reverse and pulled out of his carport. Spinning his tires on the street, he sped off in pursuit of the other two vehicles.

Concern for Carrie overrode his regard for traffic laws or cops as he prayed he’d catch up to her before her ex did something stupid. What the hell kind of game was Dave playing? What was he up to? It wasn’t long before he spied the red tail lights of Dave’s truck. He passed it easily and concentrated on catching up to Carrie. At ninety miles per hour, it only took another minute to catch her. He flashed his lights a couple of times and turned on his interior light to show her it was him.

Finally, she pulled over to the side of the road and came to a complete stop. Sam pulled up behind her car, threw his truck into park when he was half-way out of the cab. He grabbed Carrie’s hand as she got out of her car and pulled her off the road.

“What’s going on?”

“Dave followed you,” he said, pointing out the approaching headlights.

The truck accelerated as it passed before them, leaving them standing on the side of the road and staring after it.

Sam pointed at Carrie’s sedan. “You can get back in that car and follow me home, hon. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive all the way back to Gardiner with that psycho laying in wait. It
ain’t
happening.”

“I don’t understand any of this. When did you see him?”

“He’d parked in front of the house, Carrie...
your
house. As soon as you left, he started his truck and passed slowly in front of me. He
wanted
me to know it was him.” He shook his head in determination. “Come on, let’s go home” he said, taking her arm.

She pulled out of his grasp. “I think he got what he came for, Sam. I’m sure it’s fine for me to go back to Christie’s.”

“It’s not fine,” he growled. “I’ll have to wait and wonder for another hour if he ran you off of the road somewhere and did God
knows
what to you. I can’t let you do that. You’re coming home with me,” he said, as he nudged her gently to her car.

She spun away from him. “I’m thirty-six years old, Sam.
Don’t
tell me what I can and cannot do.”

Sam spoke before he thought. “Well, now you’re just being silly. Come on, let’s go.”

She turned an icy glare in his direction. “I didn’t leave one controlling man to fall into the arms of another,” she said, stalking off toward her car.