How to score, p.16
How to Score, page 16
But oh, dear lord—that was like considering death. During those three months at home after her heart attack, she’d felt like she was dead already—forgotten, invisible, useless. She’d had no purpose, no reason for getting up in the morning. She didn’t have a life outside of work. Years of sitting home waiting for Chandler to call had become a habit, and after his death, she’d just stuck to it.
Of course, she thought with an unexpected surge of irritation, he’d called only when it suited him. And truth be told, it hadn’t suited him all that often during the last years of his life.
“Enough,” she muttered under her breath, smoothing her jacket. No good would come from thinking along these lines. She wouldn’t tarnish Chandler’s memory by dwelling on his faults. She’d known she was walking a lonely path when she’d first taken up with him. There was no point in wallowing in regrets about it now.
And yet, lately the regrets had been seeping in anyway, unwanted, cold, and destructive, like water in a basement bathroom.
Chapter Eleven
Joe’s deep, someone’s-at-the-door bark reverberated through the house. Sammi took a last glance at herself in the bathroom mirror and smoothed her hair. She’d straightened it, curled it, then straightened it again in an uncharacteristic fit of indecisiveness. At least she’d had no trouble settling on her clothes; she was wearing her default, goes-anywhere black skirt, paired with a drapey white jersey blouse and high-heeled mules.
Why was she so concerned about the way she looked, anyway? She was only seeing Chase because her life coach had instructed her to.
At least, that was what she was trying to tell herself. She didn’t want to get involved with a law-enforcement officer, she reminded herself. She wanted a man with a safe, predictable job—not a man whose job could leave him shot and paralyzed, or worse. She was going out with Chase to get over her date-bashing disorder, not because she intended to pursue a romantic relationship.
All the same, a shiver of anticipation shot up her spine as the doorbell rang. Drawing a deep breath, Sammi grabbed her purse and went to the door.
Chase stood on the other side, wearing a long-sleeved blue shirt and khakis. His gaze ran over her, turning her knees to Jell-O. “You look great.”
Pleasure coursed through her. “Thanks.”
Joe shoved his head out the door beside her. Chase scratched his ear, causing the dog’s tail to wave like a stubby metronome. Sammi coaxed the animal back inside and ordered him to stay, then closed the door and walked beside Chase to his SUV. When he opened the passenger door, Sammi was surprised to see a burly man sitting in the backseat.
“This is my partner, Paul,” Chase said. “I thought it would be fun to have him and his wife join us.”
That shot the concept of a romantic dinner for two. Which was just as well, Sammi told herself sternly. Tamping down her disappointment, she stretched out her hand and smiled. “Great! It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” He had a friendly smile and salt-and-pepper hair. “Chase has told me a lot about you.”
She gave a rueful smile. “How my dog ate his wallet, how I spilled coffee on his lap, or how I gave him a concussion?”
“He left out the coffee part.”
Sammi laughed.
“Paul’s wife is a neonatal nurse,” Chase said as he backed the car out of the drive. “She’s going to meet us at the restaurant.”
“Great,” Sammi said again. She twisted around to talk to Paul. “How’s your dad’s knee?”
“It’s healing nicely, thanks. He’s in physical therapy and he’s not too thrilled that they’re working him so hard, but he’s doing well.”
“Glad to hear it.” She turned and glanced at Chase. “So how long have you two been partners?”
“Three years.”
“Three very loo-o-ng years,” Paul added. “But we were friends before that.”
The two men regaled her with stories about their work until Chase parked the car across the street from Zapeta’s, a tony restaurant near Utica Square. The restaurant’s entrance was covered by a curved burgundy canopy and framed by sculpted shrubbery lit with tiny lights. Chase held the heavy beveled-glass door for Sammi, and she stepped into the dimly lit restaurant.
A petite blonde with stylish short hair and warm brown eyes rose from a seat in the foyer. She hugged Chase, then greeted Paul with a kiss full on the mouth. Paul put his arm around her waist and pulled her close, his eyes softening as he looked at her.
“Sammi, this is my wife, Melanie,” Paul said.
Sammi shook the blonde’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” Melanie gave her a warm smile.
“I’ll, uh, see about our table,” Chase said. He stepped up and spoke to the host at the podium.
Melanie eyed her with frank curiosity. “I’ve known Chase for three years, and this is the first time he’s ever voluntarily introduced us to a woman in his life.”
Despite herself, Sammi’s heart sped up. She grinned. “The implication being, you sometimes force him to?”
Paul laughed. “You’ve got her number. Mel is an incorrigible busybody.”
Melanie playfully elbowed her husband. “Like you’re not.” She turned back to Sammi. “You must have made quite an impression on him.”
Delight galloped through her. She tried to rein it in. “Having your dog pull down his shorts will do that,” she said dryly.
She related the tale of how they’d met, much to Melanie’s amusement. Chase rejoined them, and the host picked up four leather-covered menus and led them to a table set with white tablecloths, yellow roses, and votive candles. Chase held out Sammi’s chair and seated himself beside her.
“I understand you’re a neonatal nurse,” Sammi said after they’d given the waiter their orders.
Melanie nodded. “I primarily work with preemies.”
“She’s really good at dealing with infantile behavior,” Chase said dryly. “That’s why she married Paul.”
Throughout the meals, the conversation was easy and fun and full of laughter. Chase was attentive and amusing, and more than once, Sammi surreptitiously glanced at him, only to find him looking at her, as well.
Melanie and Paul shared an easy, bantering rapport and an obvious affection for each other. A twinge of longing coursed through Sammi as she watched them. They had what she wanted: a relationship filled with warmth and humor and depth.
She cast a sideways glance at Chase and met his gaze. He smiled, and a distinct spark shot between them. Rattled, she turned her attention back to her pasta, but she was keenly aware of Chase’s every move beside her.
As the waiter cleared their plates, Melanie put her napkin on the table and looked at Sammi. “Care to go with me to the powder room?”
“Absolutely.”
The two women made their way to the back of the restaurant and stepped into a room with Venetian plaster walls, taupe-shaded chandeliers, and matching sconces. Melanie set her purse on the marble countertop and took out a lipstick, gazing at Sammi in one of the three gold-framed mirrors. “So what do you think about Chase?”
She’d known the question was coming, but she still felt oddly unprepared to answer it. “He’s great.” Sammi pulled her small black purse off her shoulder and unzipped it.
Melanie nodded. “We’ve been hoping he’d meet a girl and settle down.”
“Why hasn’t he?”
“He doesn’t let people get close very easily.” Melanie leaned toward her reflection to apply the lipstick. “He and his brother had a pretty rough childhood, and he doesn’t often let down his guard.”
“He told me a little about his dad,” Sammi said, pulling a hairbrush out of her purse.
“Did he tell you he took care of his mom while she was dying, and pretty much raised his little brother?”
Sammi looked at her in the mirror and shook her head. “He just said he watched him a lot while their mother worked.”
“Yeah, well, he did more than watch him. Chase was thirteen and his brother eight when his mom died. The dad was always either gone or drunk, so he was no help. He was finally arrested when Chase was barely eighteen and his brother was thirteen. Instead of letting Luke go to a foster home, Chase worked two jobs to support him.”
“Wow.”
“I don’t know too many teenagers who would put their own lives on hold for five years to care for a sibling. He’s a special guy.”
Sammi was discovering how special by the moment. “He and Luke must be close.”
Melanie nodded. “Although you wouldn’t necessarily know it to see them together. They’re always trying to prove each other wrong and one-up each other, and they argue about everything from the best way to barbecue ribs to whether OSU or OU is the better university. But they’ve got a really strong bond.” She snapped the lid back on her lipstick. “And it’s killing Chase that he’s gotten the kid brother he’s always watched out for into such a—” Melanie stopped abruptly.
“Such a what?” Sammi prompted. Bind? Bad situation?
Melanie shook her head and gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m speaking out of turn—as usual. Chase would be upset that I even brought up the subject.”
“Since I don’t even know what the subject is, no harm done.” Sammi smiled reassuringly. “In any event, he’ll never know you said a word.”
“Thanks.” Melanie gave her a quick grin, thendropped her lipstick into her purse and clicked it closed. “Ready to get back to the table?”
“Sure.” Sammi followed Melanie out of the powder room, wondering what sort of situation Chase had inadvertently gotten his brother into, and why Melanie couldn’t talk about it. The woman hadn’t been shy about sharing information about Chase up to that point.
Maybe she could figure out a way to get Chase to tell her himself.
“I really liked your friends.”
Chase glanced over at Sammi as he steered his car down Peoria Avenue. “Yeah? They liked you, too.” Too much, actually. He’d invited Paul and Melanie on the spur of the moment, wanting to make the evening feel more like a group outing than a date. He hadn’t meant for it to turn into an I’m-serious-about-this-girl-and-want-her-to-meet-my-friends sort of date. He’d unwittingly stepped their relationship up a notch.
“Melanie invited me to a Pokeno party next month.”
“Really.” What the hell was Pokeno?
“Yeah. I really like her.” She looked over at him. “I understand you’re their son’s godfather.”
The thought of the impish four-year-old made him grin. “Yeah. Max is a great kid.”
“Apparently you help coach his pee-wee baseball team and you taught him how to fish.”
Man, Melanie really knew how to run her mouth. “Good to see she didn’t leave anything out. Must have been some visit to the ladies’ room.”
“It was quite the fact-finding mission.” Sammi grinned. “But then, I got in a little extra reconnaissance when you and Paul were talking to that person from the DA’s office.”
Oh, jeez—there was no telling what Melanie had told Sammi. Paul had reassured him that his wife had no idea Chase was filling in for Luke’s life-coaching clients, but the instant bond between the two women made him uneasy. If she mentioned Luke’s name or occupation, Sammi was likely to put two and two together.
“Did you find out anything of interest?”
“Lots of things.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Actually, Melanie thinks very highly of you.”
“Good to know I have her fooled.”
Chase pulled into Sammi’s drive. “Sit tight. I’ll get your door.” Chase got out and walked around to the passenger side. He took her hand to help her out of the SUV, then reluctantly relinquished it.
He’d been dying to touch her all night. The way her silky blouse slid against her skin had been taunting him ever since he’d first picked her up. It was a good thing the evening was nearly over.
The gaslight by the door danced on her hair as she dug in her purse for her key. “Want to come in for some coffee?” she asked.
He shifted his stance. “I’d, uh, probably better get going.”
“You’re afraid I’m going to burn you again, aren’t you?”
“No. It’s just… it’s—it’s a work night, and… and… ” Oh, jeez—she was biting her bottom lip.
She tried to grin, but her lips wobbled. “I can understand if you’re afraid of me.” He was—but not for the reason she thought.
She shifted her gaze down to her feet, but not before he saw the insecurity in her eyes.
What the hell. One quick cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt anything. “Actually, a cup of coffee sounds great.”
Joe’s deep bark sounded on the other side of the door as she inserted her key. Chase followed her into her time warp of a house as the giant dog did a happy dance around Sammi.
“If he bothers you, I can put him out,” she said.
The whole purpose of being here was to prove that he was unfazed by any of the previous mishaps. Chase shook his head and patted his back pocket. “I swapped my wallet for a money clip, so I’m good.”
Chase petted the dog’s head, then followed Sammi into the kitchen. She pulled a rawhide bone out of the pantry and gave it to Joe, then put on the coffee.
“Let’s go sit down while it brews.” Chase followed her back into the living room and sank beside her on the fan-backed sofa. She folded one leg over the other. Man, she had world-class legs—smooth and long and shapely. He fought to keep his gaze—and his thoughts—above the waist, and seized on the first topic that came to mind.
“Did you have any pets before Joe?”
She nodded. “I used to have cats, but I developed a bad allergy. After that, I had a Scottie mix.” Her voice grew somber. “He died just before I moved to Tulsa.”
“Oh.” What kind of condolences were expected for a pet? “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” She unfolded her legs. His mouth went dry as her skirt fluttered up her thigh. “What about you?” she asked.
He’d lost track of the topic. He dragged his eyes away from her legs and back up to her face.
“Why don’t you have a pet?” she prompted.
“I’m gone too much. It wouldn’t be fair to the animal.”
“Did you have a pet when you were a child?”
“Not officially. But I had a stealth cat.”
She laughed. “A stray?”
He nodded. “My brother and I secretly fed it.” It was one of the many secrets they’d kept as kids—wearing long-sleeved shirts in the summer to hide their bruises, making up stories to cover for their father’s lack of a job, inventing reasons why they didn’t have money for school field trips. He’d grown up in a tangled nest of lies, and he’d vowed that if he ever clawed his way out, he’d never lie again.
Yeah, right. He swallowed down a lump of guilt.
“Melanie told me a little about your brother,” Sammi said.
Oh, hell. “Yeah?” He deliberately kept his voice nonchalant, even though his pulse was racing. “What did she say?”
“Just that you two are really close.”
His shoulder muscles tensed, even as he put on his give-nothing-away neutral expression. How much did she know? Hell. If Melanie had said that his brother was a life coach or even mentioned his name, Sammi would figure it out—not to mention that the whole Witness Protection thing was supposed to be secret. Sammi wasn’t a security risk, and Luke wasn’t in danger as long as his whereabouts were unknown, but still, it would be a breach of protocol.
Sammi shifted her torso. The silky fabric of her blouse moved over her breasts, exposing a glimpse of deeper cleavage. “She said that you took care of him when you were kids.”
Chase lifted his shoulders. “He’s family. It was no big deal.”
“Yeah, it was.” The way she looked at him made his heart beat faster. “And I really admire you for it. It says a lot about your character.”
Yeah, right. And if she ever found out how he was deceiving her now, it would say a whole lot more.
“You haven’t told me a lot about your brother,” she continued. “You said he was a consultant, but you didn’t say what kind. I don’t even know his name.”
Oh, hell. She was looking straight at him, with those eyes that seemed to see right through him. He couldn’t pull off a lie; his gut was knotted with guilt, and she was sure to read it. She was already reading something into his hesitation. Her head tilted to one side, and her brows scrunched together. “Chase? Are you okay?”
Diversion—that was his only recourse. He grabbed the first thing that came to mind. “The truth is, I’m having a hard time following this conversation, because I can’t think about anything except how beautiful you are, and how much I like you, and how much I want to kiss you.”
Her eyes widened as he leaned forward and placed his hand on her upper arm. Her mouth formed a very kissable little “oh” of surprise as he moved in to lightly, softly drop a mere whisper of a kiss on her mouth. She sat perfectly still for a second. Her eyelids fluttered closed—and then her arms wound around his neck, and she was kissing him back.
Dear God in heaven. A lightning bolt of desire shot through him, so hard and hot he barely knew what hit him. All he knew was he couldn’t get enough. She tasted both sweet and salty, and she smelled like flowers and herbal shampoo and, most compellingly, an undernote of warm, willing woman that was Sammi’s scent alone.
She strained toward him, pulling him close, pulling him down, until he was lying on top of her on the sofa. Her breasts pressed against his chest, warm, soft, tempting mounds that he ached to touch. He moved his hand down her outer ribs and caressed the sides of her breasts, his mouth mating with hers in a hot slide of need.
She moaned and wrapped one of those long, lush legs around his. Every thought fled his mind as his mouth moved over her skin.
He kissed her neck, kissed the soft shell of her ear, then returned to her wet, succulent mouth. He couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough. Her leg tightened around his. She clutched his back, tugging erotically on the back of his belt.
