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Sam Roberts gave her a lazy smile, nodding before saying in a slow drawl, “I do. Welcome home, Darcy.”
Sam had lost all traces of boyhood, but he still looked familiar and comfortable to her.
Charlene slapped his wrist. “That’s right, you guys ran in the same circles, didn’t you?”
They had. Troublemaker circles, although Sam’s family had been a bit more respectable than Darcy’s.
Charlene hugged Darcy around the shoulders. “Aren’t we lucky this girl finally came home to see us?”
Now it was Sam’s turn to try to get a word in edgewise. It didn’t work.
Charlene laughed. “Of course we are, you guys probably have a ton to catch up on. . . .”
While the blond former cheerleader ran her mouth nonstop, Sam cocked a grin and gave her a little wink.
Darcy grinned right back.
Another woman Darcy didn’t remember came over to Charlene and said, “We need you. There’s a problem with the photographer.”
Charlene threw up her hands in exasperation. “Why on earth did Daniel have to be on vacation? You know people from Shreveport can’t be trusted.” She turned to Darcy. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’ll be back. How long are you going to be in town? Maybe we can grab coffee while you’re here. Of course, we don’t have a Starbucks on every corner, so Earl’s will have to do.”
“Sounds nice,” Darcy said, and the other woman dragged a still-talking Charlene away. Darcy turned back to Sam. “Wow.”
Sam chuckled. “Indeed.”
The years had only been kind to Sam Roberts who was tall, lean, and broad-shouldered. His blond hair was cut a touch too long, his blue eyes were bright, and his bone structure could only have been carved from by the gods. He’d gone from cute to absolutely gorgeous.
Darcy shook her head. “I didn’t even know someone could talk that fast.”
Sam put his hands on the bar. “Sorry to say she’s running a bit slow today. And how have you been, Darcy Miller?”
Darcy smoothed her hand over her stomach and shifted on her heels. “Pretty good, thanks. How about you?”
“Pretty good. What can I get you?”
“Do you have any white wine?”
Sam opened a cooler, pulled out a bottle, poured her a glass, and put it on the counter.
“Thanks,” Darcy said. “What have you been up to?”
Sam shrugged. “A little of this, a little of that. I own that old bar over on Second.”
“Really? Good for you.” They used to go there back in the day because the owner would serve them booze even though they were underage. “I’ll have to come visit you while I’m here.”
“Please do. And what about you? How’s New York treating you?” Sam asked.
“That’s a good question, actually. How has New York been treating you?”
That voice. That ridiculous, smooth, low voice. She silently cursed when her stomach dropped to her toes and something deep inside her suspiciously heated.
Darcy closed her eyes and prayed he was fat, bald, and ugly. That time had been cruel. That all those teenage good looks of his had faded into something bland and nondescript. She needed paunch. Love handles. A middle-aged spread. Anything.
Her lashes fluttered open.
Please, please, please let him be hideous.
She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
