Page 8 of Love Everlasting

“Mmm … not a bad idea,” he said with a rakish waggle of brows that produced an immediate wince in his face. “Ow—that hurt.”

“Aw …” She fluttered her lashes in sympathy before delivering a dry smile. “Good.” He followed her to the foyer, hand to his head, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Pain, puke, and the promise of a hangover.” Hand on the knob, she turned at the front door with an arch of her brow. “Tell me, Doc, does anything stem the player in you?”

He mauled the back of his neck with a cringe, his smile appearing to be in as much pain as him. “Well, the point-blank truth tends to suck a bit of the wind out of my sails.”

She couldn’t resist a chuckle as she opened the door, lobbing a grin over her shoulder before she slowly shut it again. “Good to know.”

Chapter Four

A player, yes, but a sweet one. Shaking her head, Shannon yanked the door closed with a smile, squealing when it bounced back with a clunk and a groan.

“Owwww! First you bludgeon my heart, and now my arm.” Sam moaned, rubbing his wrist while he sagged against the doorframe. “Okay, that settles it—you’re not a third-grade teacher, you’re a sadist.”

Eyes wide, Shannon put a hand to her mouth, as much to stifle a giggle as from shock. “I am so sorry,” she said, backing down his brick serpentine walkway when he started to follow, thinking that even sulking, he looked adorable. “But I did tell you to go to bed, did I not?”

“A bossy sadist at that,” he muttered, padding behind her in his bare feet, hands in his pockets as he gingerly stepped over acorns and sticks.

“You haven’t seen ‘bossy,’ mister, if you don’t get your butt back inside right now.” Keys in hand, she rounded her car and opened her door, pausing to sear him with a threatening look completely ruined by her flicker of a smile. “Goodnight, Sam—again.” She slid into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition, groaning when a familiar grinding occurred. The engine refused to turn over as she pumped the accelerator to no avail. “Nooooo,” she moaned to herself, cheeks heating as she tried to remember what Jack had done to start the car when she’d flooded it at home, before the Memorial fundraiser. The smell of gasoline wrinkled her nose as she tried it again. “Come on, baby, I know you’ve endured drool, puke, and Sam Cunningham, but please don’t take that out on me …”

Tap. Tap.

Smothering a groan, Shannon looked up when Sam opened the passenger door, brows in a bunch as he ducked his head in. “What’s wrong?”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, figuring she’d given Doctor Love enough grief for one night. “It’s been flooding lately, so now it won’t turn on.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Teach.” A slow grin slid across Sam’s face as he shut the passenger door and ambled around to the driver’s side, opening her door with a wink. “I happen to have a lotttttt of experience in turning things on, young lady.” He bumped her shoulder. “Move over.”

Succumbing to an eye roll, she scooted over on the cloth bench seat of her mother’s Impala to let him in.

“Whoa! How short are you anyway?” he asked, fumbling for the lever to adjust the seat. “My knees are in my nostrils.” He jerked it back hard and immediately groaned, plying his fingers to the sudden pain in his head. “Man, shouldn’t have done that.”

“You should be in bed,” she said with a sigh.

“I know,” he said, heating her cheeks with a wayward smile that caused her to inch further away. Pressing his bare foot on the accelerator, he kept it there while he turned the key, head cocked to listen to the starter. “Come on, baby,” he whispered in a husky tone, alarming Shannon when the sound purled heat in her tummy, “I know you can do it.” With a rhythmic grind that seemed to go on forever, the engine finally roared to life, drowning out her loud sigh of relief.

Sagging back in the seat, Sam slid her a sideways smile. “The trick is to keep your foot on the accelerator with no pumping, young lady, then keep grinding and pray like the devil.”

Her mouth crooked. “The devil preys, but not that kind.” She huffed out more air, lips pursed in a tight smile as she shooed him toward the door. “Okay, then, it’s off to bed with you, Doc, but thank you, truly, for starting my car.”

He didn’t move, smile gentle as his gaze roamed her face, her hair, hitching her pulse when it drifted down her body and back. “You’re not the one who should be thanking me, Shan,” he said quietly, “I should be thanking you.”

She smiled, going for casual as she shuffled back a tad. “For adding to your headache with opinions you didn’t want to hear?”

His face faded to serious. “Yeah, for that. Because I have to admit, though you ticked me off pretty good a couple of times” —those chocolate eyes held her captive, probing as if she were a mystery to solve— “for some strange reason, I feel a whole lot better than I did before, and I’m not exactly sure why.”

Her smile was warm. “Because the truth is the cure for heartache?”

He stared, eyes in a squint. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just that good as a friend.”

Her eyes softened, his words so sweet, she had to fight the urge to give him a hug. “I hope so.”

“Me, too,” he said, reaching to skim a finger down the curve of her jaw.

Before she could react, he leaned in and brushed a kiss to her cheek. It startled her so much, she jerked, which inadvertently aligned her mouth with his, barely inches apart. Heat coiled in her stomach as she froze, his shallow breathing mingling with her own. And then her oxygen ceased altogether when he slowly bent in, closing the distance as his eyes sheathed closed.

No! But her limbs and voice refused to work, the caress of his lips paralyzing all protest. Against her will, a low moan slipped from her throat, his kiss so achingly tender, her body felt drugged as it melted into his arms. Oh, Lord, help me—it’s been so long …

“Shan,” he whispered, his breath warm in her ear, easing her down on the seat so gently, she was barely aware. “Stay with me …” With a playful tug of her lip, his mouth took hers, disarming her with a dangerous warmth that swirled heat in her belly.