back his head and yells for Sam. Luanne’s haircut has made him look less like a Yeti, but he’s so broad and jolly, he’s still got a homeless Santa Claus look about him.
“Hey, Ellie,” Jason whispers loudly, leaning mercilessly against the white Formica. He beckons me closer with a hotdog-sized finger. “You think Luanne will ever step out with me on a date again? This time I’m thinkin’ of taking her to a monster truck show. Think she’d like that?”
If I say yes, I could be party to Luanne’s future as a redneck trophy-wife. If I say no, I could be eaten. “Uh, well…maybe?”
Jason considers my stammering for a moment as though I’ve prophesized something miraculous. He nods and slaps at the counter, taking a step back. “Hell, I’ll take a maybe!” he shouts, laughing heartily at his improved chances of scoring with Luanne. I need to remember to warn her when I get home.
The door leading to the garage swings open as Sam enters the room. He’s wearing a white short-sleeve undershirt, body-hugging jeans, and a smile that’s too naughty for the workplace. He’s a little dirty and sweaty from a hard day’s work. Perhaps I should offer to lick him clean? I’ll start with the dimple.
“Hey there, Ellie girl. You’re looking better,” he says, coming within licking distance.
“Oh yes, I am. Feeling better, that is,” I lie.
“It’s quittin’ time, boss. I’m gonna tell the boys to head on out,” Jason says, shoving the door to the garage open with a meaty palm.
“Alright then,” Sam replies, though he doesn’t remove his eyes from me.
“Now, I’m going to hold you to that ‘maybe.’ You tell Luanne I’ll be by the bar later to start courting her good and proper.” Jason points his finger at me and lifts those gargantuan eyebrows as he disappears behind the swinging door.
“Is that why you came by, to secure a date for Jason?”
“Oh heavens, no. In fact, I may be employing your services as a bodyguard later, once Luanne gets hold of me.”
Sam moves closer to me, tucking a section of hair behind my ear. “I would have no problem guarding your body.”
He leans in for a tender, sweet kiss. I bring a hand up to place against the hard expanse of his chest and breathe into the kiss, deepening it. His hands caress my arms up to my shoulders, holding me in place so I can neither move closer nor step away. Not that I would. He smells wonderful. Sort of sweet and musky, so different from Tim with his expensive colognes and…Tim. I break the kiss at the memory of being in an identical situation with my ex not three days ago. Guilt settles in my stomach.
Sam’s thumbs rub small circles across my shoulders as he places a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Sorry,” he says, running his hands down my arms to capture my hands. “You’re probably still not feeling well and here I am, paws all over you the minute you walk through the door.”
Why does he have to be so damn nice? It makes deciding whether to keep the Tim fiasco from him really hard. “Don’t be silly, I’m fine,” I say, trying to avoid his gaze.
“You’re wearing the dress.”
I smile, well aware that my clothing choice this morning was no accident. “Well, I remembered how fond of it you are.”
“I am, but I like the lady wearing it even better.” Sam releases one of my hands and brings his up, placing a finger under my chin and tilting my head back so he can look me in the eyes. His eyes are so clear, it’s hard to believe the picture Amber’s painted of him. Could he hold me this gently and still break my heart?
The hand on my back pulls me forward until our bodies are touching. Sam inches toward me, keeping his eyes focused on mine as he leans down and places a chaste kiss on my still lips. I’m not one for kissing with my eyes open, but if this is the view I’ve been missing, I may be converted.
Sam leans back, an errant strand of his hair brushing my cheek as he pulls away. This time I’m the one who reaches up and tucks the hair away behind his ear. I allow my fingers to linger for just a moment, battling feelings of guilt and lust as I try to work out where a leap of faith may take me.