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She turned, smiling at me. “‘And the like’?” God, her smile came from Heaven above. It must have. There was nothing in this world more beautiful. “I like the way you talk sometimes. Is that a Texas thing?”
With a quick lift of my shoulders, I said, “It’s a country thing, I guess.” I took another drink, trying to distract myself from the fire building up inside me while I watched her. Whiskey probably would’ve been a better choice, but I never drank it.
When the song was over, the playlist on my phone came to its end, and silence rang around the room as she continued examining the cards on my desk. “These are all from Texas. Are they from your family?”
“Mmhm.”
“You don’t want to read them?”
“They all say the same thing.”
She turned her head but not her body, frowning at my answer. “They can’t all say the same thing.”
Sure they could. Happy Birthday, Merry Christmas, Happy “Gotcha” Day—the anniversary of the day a kid got adopted. The list went on, but the words written inside the cards were usually the same: We love you, Frank. Maybe you can get a little time off work soon so you can come down to see us. We hope you’re happy and that you’re still enjoying your job. It sure is hot/cold/rainy this year. How’s the weather up in Wisper? We miss you. Love, Mama K and Dad.
Samantha stalked over to me, a curious look gleaming in her eyes. “You’re not going to explain?”
“Nothin’ much to say about it. Family sends a lotta cards.”
She climbed into my lap, straddling me and taking the glass from my hand. It felt like we could’ve caught fire from the heat between us. Setting the water on my side table, she tsked when I reached over to move it onto a coaster and centered it in the middle. “Is that where you were back in October, when you were gone for two weeks?”
Lifting her phone from the table, she held it up in front of my face and snapped a picture. Good grief. Another picture? What in the world could she possibly need them all for?
The flash blinded me for a second while I thought, She’d noticed I was gone? Hm. Interesting. All that time I’d been going to the library, debating whether to ask her out or not—if she’d noticed me the way I’d noticed her, I could’ve asked her months ago.
“Nope.”
She set her phone down, then fixed her eyes back on mine, peeking every few seconds at the open top buttons on my flannel and licking her lips like a hungry lioness. “Where’d you go?”
Resting my hand on the side of her neck, feeling her pulse on my palm, I pressed my thumb to the hollow dip below her throat, watching with fascination as the skin lost its color and flushed pink again when I lifted my thumb away. “The sheriff made me use some of my vacation days, so I drove around for a couple weeks, camping’ and fishin’.”
“Where?” Leaning her head to the side, baring her soft neck to my eyes, she waited for my answer.
“Nowhere. Just here and there.” Damn. I was hard as a rock, and I wanted to slam her body down against mine and bite that neck like a fucking vampire.
“You know you’re doing it again?”
In the low voice she seemed to like, the one that made her eyes darken, I asked, “What’s that, Samantha?”
But she gave up the hunt and sat back, her thighs balancing over mine. “One-word answers. I want to know about your family. Your time with the Army. Your… ex-wife.” She winced, maybe nervous that I’d get mad at her for asking, but that was an easy topic.
“You heard about that?”
“Yes,” she said with a guilty smile. “Actually, I remember hearing about it when it happened. From my grandparents. I didn’t know who you were then, and I was just a kid.” She blushed, and our age gap tugged at the connection between us, like an angry bee sting.
“Ain’t much to it. Got married and then left soon after on my last tour with the Army. I was gone for about two years, and when I came home, I realized she wasn’t who I thought she was. It wasn’t a messy divorce. There was no fightin’. It was just over. Haven’t spoken to her in over eleven years.” I cleared my throat a little, realizing the subject made me uncomfortable. The same way I didn’t like thinking about Samantha with some other man, I didn’t want to bring my ex into the equation either. But I wanted to be honest with her. “It’s the reason I stayed away from you this last year. Why it took me so long to really talk to you. I guess it… I dunno. Guess it kind of took a toll. Relationships, marriage, all that stuff seemed like a priority when I was younger, but now… Maybe I don’t trust so easy.”
She listened, taking everything I said in stride. “What’s her name?”
“Angela.”
“You didn’t want kids with her?”
“I did. I’ve always wanted kids. She said she did in the beginnin’, but”—I shook my head—“guess she changed her mind. She never really explained her change of heart. Just kinda walked away. It was a good thing though. We weren’t right for each other.”
Her eyes flicked down, and she tried to back off of me, but I wrapped my hands around her hips, pressing the tips of my fingers into her backside through her skirt. They twitched to explore lower, but she’d said it herself; I was stubborn. I wasn’t giving in, no matter how much she tempted me.
I needed her to be sure. It’d be torture if we went all in and then a few months down the line she decided I really was too old for her. And I needed her to trust me enough to open up to me. What good was sex and love if we didn’t have trust? She had to trust that I’d protect her heart, and I needed to trust that she’d guard mine.
