Home to Me

by LaVerne Clark

  “Relax, Luce.”

  The edge of pain in her friend’s voice made her glance down. Her hands had tightened on Suzie’s, her short nails digging into the back of her hand. “Shit.” She let go with a wince. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” She waved her off with a smile but pulled her hands back into her lap in an exaggerated motion, and they grinned at each other. “Let’s get back to Sam. I don’t mind admitting I’ve dreamed of that luscious mouth of his doing bad, bad things to me.” She gave a delicate shiver and sighed.

  The memory of what that mouth felt like sent a wave of lust ricocheting through her body, and she bit down on her lip as her cheeks went nuclear.

  “Oh, my God, you lucky bitch,” Suzie shrieked. “His mouth’s already done bad things to you, hasn’t it?”

  Lucy’s palms flew up to her cheeks as she hissed at her friend to shush. Yep. The heat confirmed they were as hot as she’d feared. The men at the other table stopped with any pretense of conversation and turned toward them, identical grins on their faces. She groaned and covered her face with her hands as a low wolf whistle met her ears.

  “You have got to tell me all about it. Come on, Luce. You can’t leave me hanging like this. God, I think I’d explode if his mouth came anywhere near me.”

  “I just about did,” she said under her breath so the men wouldn’t hear and rolled her eyes with a laugh when Suzie pretended to swoon against the back of her chair. She shot a glance at the other table, then returned to her friend. “Can we go somewhere else to discuss this please, Suze?”

  “It’s all right, doll.” The youngest man pushed out from his chair and stood up, the others following suit. “We have to leave for the office anyway. But before we do—” His eyes connected with Suzie’s, and he picked up her hand, lightly kissing the back of it. “—my name’s Scott. I’d be happy to do bad things to you with my mouth if you gave me the chance.”

  Lucy bit back a groan at the terrible line, but Suzie giggled, the infectious sound making the man grin. She cocked her head as if thinking about it for a few seconds, then recited her cell number for him. “Flick me a text, and we’ll see about setting something up.”

  The men disappeared out the door, but the hopes Lucy had harbored that her friend would forget about her grilling were dashed when she turned those green eyes on her, intense as a laser beam and just as merciless. “Okay. Our audience has gone. Spill.”

  Lucy took a sip of her coffee, closing her eyes in appreciation of the jolt of caffeine, and faced her friend. “He’s being a gentleman, taking things slow. Of course, I never expected anything less from him, but God, it’s frustrating. Not only his kiss, but just a simple touch gets me all hot and bothered, and all I can think about is ripping his clothes off and having my way with him. And I think he knows it.”

  Suzie sighed, her face rapt. “Ooh. He knows exactly what he’s doing, doesn’t he?” She gave an exaggerated shiver. “I wonder what his next move will be.”

  Lucy frowned. “He’s a tease, is what he is. Working me up only to break off when I want more.”

  Suzie grinned and leaned farther over the table. “Precisely. He’s clever—and strong-willed. In my experience, it isn’t easy for a guy to stop cold when he’s running hot. Sam’s got your best interests at heart even though it’s probably killing him.” She sighed and stared off into the distance with a dreamy gaze. “If only he had a brother. They don’t make many men like that anymore.”

  Lucy snapped her fingers in front of her face, and Suzie blinked back to attention. “So what am I going to do about it? I don’t want to be jumping out of my skin every second I’m around him.”

  “Sounds to me like you’re going to have to take the initiative, tell him in no uncertain terms what you want. Talk dirty. Be bold. Seduce him instead of waiting for him to make the first move. Guys love that.”

  Lucy remembered the look on Sam’s face when she stepped out in her bikini, the way his eyes had traveled over her body, his skin flushing and heat burning from his gaze. Yeah. Her mouth curved. Suzie was spot on. She needed to continue to torment him, and maybe, just maybe, she’d be brave enough to initiate the final step.

  “Are you ready to order, ladies?”

  Lucy glanced up at the waitress who’d appeared at her elbow. Caught up in her daydreams, she hadn’t heard her approach, and she blinked a few times to refocus on the menu. Grimacing, she read over the descriptions, her stomach revolting at the thought of food. “I’ll just have the Greek salad, thanks.”

  Suzie ordered a steak sandwich accompanied by a bowl of fries and shook her head with a grin as the waitress disappeared to the kitchen with their order. “You can share my fries. Those butterflies will have gone by then, and you’ll be hungry. Besides, we can’t have those curves of yours disappearing—not when Sam seems to appreciate them so much.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes and changed the subject, hoping to stem the thought of Sam’s hands on her from running rampant through her head. Luckily, Suzie was happy to oblige. That was the thing about best friends. They knew each other’s limitations, and although Suzie delighted in pushing the boundaries, she could always count on her to know when enough was enough.

  Despite her doubts when their order arrived, her appetite returned with a vengeance, and she helped demolish the plate of fries with copious amounts of aioli, ignoring Suzie’s I-told-you-so smirk. Their conversation turned to the little things that made up their respective days, and Lucy found herself relaxing back into her seat, enjoying the witty banter and easy companionship spending time with her best friend always produced.

  After the lunch hour was up, she waved Suzie off, then wandered the main street, her mind full with her friend’s earlier advice of taking the initiative. Did she have the guts to follow through? What was stopping her? Fear? Straightening her spine, she pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. She refused point-blank to allow fear to rule her life again.

  Stopping outside the doors of one of the local beauticians, she studied the oversize prints of glamorous-looking creatures in the windows, the text promising smoother, sexier-looking skin and increased confidence as a result. With a shrug, she stepped inside and was immediately enveloped by the rich scents of essential oils and soothing music as if entering a magical realm.

  Two hours later, she walked out plucked and preened, carrying an armful of lotions the saleslady guaranteed would make her body glow and lure even the most self-controlled man closer. An evil grin stretched her mouth. Sam had no idea what was in store for him. Finally, she felt as if she was ready for him, and coming to get him she was—ready or not.

  ****

  The week crawled past.

  Lucy tried to keep herself busy, but her mind was on countdown for the weekend and for whatever Sam had planned for the two of them. His parting words had been circling around in her subconscious since he’d uttered them, swooping and diving at her when she least expected it and tying her stomach up in knots. Eating was impossible.

  “For goodness’ sake, Lucy. Food is for eating, not playing,” her mother admonished one night after catching her push her food around her plate yet again. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Sorry.” She picked up her knife and concentrated on cutting into the chicken. “I’m just feeling really nervous. Sam’s taking me out Saturday, and I’ve no idea what he’s got planned.”

  Her mother’s frown instantly softened into a smile at his name. “Oh. Well, knowing Sam, it’ll be fun. He’s such a good boy.”

  Lucy tried to stretch her mouth into an answering grin and feared it looked more like a grimace. Oh, yes. He was good all right. Her knife clattered to the plate. “Sorry,” she muttered again and forced herself to eat—one slow mouthful after another.

  Finally, Saturday arrived, dawning to an overcast sky. Half-forgotten nightmares had chased her through the night. The familiar feeling of being restrained, her desperate struggles to escape getting her nowhere, still raw in her pounding heart.r />
  It had been a while since she’d had the dreams, but this time there was a subtle difference. Just when her strength ebbed and the horror bore down on her, Sam was there, his strong arms pulling her out of harm’s way and into the safety of his embrace. She’d woken curled around her pillow, the blankets pushed to the bottom of the bed and tears dried on her cheeks.

  She rolled her head across the pillow and glanced at her alarm clock. Seven o’clock at last. Finally, it wasn’t too early to get up. Taking a couple of the new products she’d bought from the beautician earlier in the week, she slipped quietly into the bathroom and indulged in a hot shower, scrubbing her skin with the luxury concoctions.

  Minutes later, she toweled off and massaged sweet almond oil into her skin, enjoying the subtle scent and the glow it left behind. Spending longer than normal on her makeup, once she stepped back from the mirror to view her work, she decided it was worth it. The blue of her eyes had deepened with the sweep of subtle color on her lids, the gray liner making them appear wider and more defined. But no amount of makeup could have added the sparkle of excitement shining from them, the blush to her cheeks. That was all Sam.

  Perusing through her underwear drawer, she selected a lacy emerald set, the bra boosting her breasts. Bending forward at the waist, she adjusted herself and then straightened up, pleased at the effect. She grabbed an old pair of sweatpants, pulled them on, and followed with a shirt, then grinned. The shirt she’d chosen, although old as stipulated, was tight and dipped just low enough to show what she hoped proved to be a distracting bit of cleavage.

  Halfway through finger combing her hair into some kind of order, the unmistakable rumble of Sam’s voice floated up to her, and she froze. He was here already? Puzzled, she gave her hair one more tweak and stepped lightly downstairs. The smell of bacon led her into the kitchen.

  At her entrance, Sam turned, a spatula in one hand and a tea towel hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants. Her body thrilled as her eyes greedily feasted on his presence. His teeth flashed, and his eyes crinkled in that delicious way they had at the corners. “Morning, brat. How many eggs do you want?”

  She swallowed the saliva that had pooled in her mouth. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not very hungry.” Once again, her appetite had deserted her.

  A brow rose, and he shook his head in mock disappointment. “I’ll cook you two. You’re going to need the energy. You can thank me later.” With a wink, he turned back to the fry pan.

  Her stomach did cartwheels at the innuendo, and her gaze zeroed in without permission on his butt.

  “Thank you for looking out for my baby, Sam. She’s not so good at looking after herself lately.” Her mother placed mugs of coffee on the table and sent her daughter a frown.

  He shot her a look over his shoulder to frown at her too. “Not good enough, is it, Janet? Don’t worry, I’ll help her rectify that.” He tugged the tea towel out from his waistband, bent to open the oven, and pulled out a pan. The sizzle of bacon quieted as he lifted the fry pan, transferred the meat, then put the warmed pan back into the oven. Replacing the pan once more onto the element, he cracked eggs one at a time into it. While he was absorbed in what he was doing, Lucy took the opportunity to ogle him and just managed to restrain the sigh that wanted to escape at the sight before her. She’d always been a sucker for a man who could cook. They didn’t get much sexier than that.

  As if he felt the lust rolling off her in waves, he sent a teasing grin over his shoulder. “Could you take a moment to drag your eyes off my fine form, Luce, and set the table? We’re almost ready.”

  Busted. Lucy pushed off from the doorway, her cheeks flaming. She wrenched the utensils out of the drawer. “That arrogant streak is still a mile wide I see, Sam.” His answering low chuckle made her insides quiver, and she placed the knives and forks either side of the placemats with a clatter before she gratefully sank down at her place. Her limbs had turned to rubber.

  He slid into the chair opposite her, his ankle bumping hers, and she drew hers back, her cheeks hot. He merely grinned.

  “So what do you have planned for the two of you today?”

  Lucy swung her gaze toward him at her mother’s question and took a sip of her coffee. She wanted to know just as much.

  His eyes twinkled. “It’s a surprise.” He inclined his head at the mountain of bacon he’d piled on her plate. “Make sure you eat all of that, Luce. You’ll need it.”

  Knowing she wouldn’t get anything more out of him, she gave up and raised the fork to her mouth. Ignoring the churning in her stomach, she chewed heroically and swallowed it down. After the first couple of mouthfuls, her stomach settled along with her nerves. She’d managed to make it through most of the food on her plate when she made the mistake of lifting her gaze.

  Sam attention was riveted on her mouth.

  Darting her tongue out for a quick swipe, she found nothing alarming and glanced at Sam, but his gaze hadn’t lifted, only narrowed. Dilated pupils darkened his eyes, and as his gaze finally lifted to meet hers, her heart rate trebled.

  Blinking, he averted his gaze and pushed back his chair, the legs scraping against the flooring with a shudder. He rose and collected his almost empty plate, the cutlery clattering loudly. “Come on, brat—eat up. We’ve got ten minutes before we need to be on the road.”

  ****

  Lucy gaped at the signage as they pulled into the last available space in the parking lot. “Paintball? This is your idea of a date? Wow, no wonder you’re still single.”

  Sam cut the engine and draped his wrists over the wheel, grinning. “Oh, that cuts deep, brat. In my defense, I’ve never taken anyone here before, but then you’re not my usual date.”

  She rolled her eyes to cover the flash of hurt. Don’t I know it. Memory filled her in with the parade of women he’d dated. Tall and willowy with long manes of hair and legs that seemed to go on forever. And they were just the ones she knew of. She wasn’t even in the same ballpark. Perhaps she was wrong, and it wasn’t heat she’d detected in his gaze. More likely it was charity.

  He covered her hands where they worried each other in her lap. Lifting one, he studied the palm and dragged a fingertip across the love line, sending her nerve endings into meltdown. “I can’t say I’ve ever looked forward to one half as much either.”

  She lifted her gaze. The silver of his eyes had deepened to charcoal. Half-lowered lashes highlighted the smudges of shadow under his eyes, hinting at sleepless nights, matching her own. Her mouth parted slightly in wonder. Perhaps he wasn’t as calm and controlled as she assumed.

  “You ready?”

  With her mind on a different track altogether, a few seconds passed before she caught on he was talking about today’s activity. She stretched her back, her chest pushing forward as she did, and noticed his eyes drawn to the movement. A slow, warm curl of anticipation flooded her body. Yeah, she was ready. In more ways than one.

  “Yep.” She pushed the door open and jumped down onto the asphalt. “Get ready to have your ass kicked, Samuel Merrick.”

  He grinned as he followed suit and engaged the locks. “I’ll have you eating those words in half an hour, brat. Watch your back.” Pocketing the keys, he rounded the vehicle and snagged her hand. Happiness welled in her chest at the casually possessive touch, and suddenly, everything seemed brighter, sharper, and infinitely more wonderful.

  The morning cloud had burned away, leaving the sky a bright blue. The sun evaporated the cool morning air, and the smell of the earth waking up and warming under the life-giving rays rose up all around them. She squeezed his hand, and he glanced down with a smile.

  A converted shipping container at the end of the path announced itself as reception. Sam slid the glass door open, indicating she go in first, then stepped in after her. A group of people milled around in small clusters, the buzz of conversation stopping momentarily at the interruption of their entrance before resuming again.

  “You two booked for the ten o’clock rou
nd?”

  Sam flashed a wide grin over her head at the vicinity of the voice. “We are.”

  Lucy peered around a large body blocking her view to see a man wearing a shirt bearing the name of the company on his chest.

  “You’re just in time. We’re about to go through the rules of the game, choosing teams, and then the fitting of protective gear.” He broke off and raised his voice. “Everyone, gather round.”

  The rules were pretty straightforward. The adrenaline started to course through her body, her naturally competitive nature rising to the challenge. It sounded like so much fun, not to mention a great way to blunt the sharp edges off the excess energy being around Sam generated.

  “Do we want to play men against women?”

  A collective shout went up, the women with their answer in the negative more vocal. A simple numbering system was quickly decided on instead to combine the sexes, with Sam making sure they were counted on the same team.

  “Gotta save myself the ass kicking,” he murmured against her ear, his arm snug around her shoulders, sending delicious shivers down her spine.

  Once kitted out in camouflage outfits, chest armor, and headgear, they were loaded down with their weapons and given a safety briefing. The opposing team loaded up into an old army truck to be taken to the other end of the course. As it ambled off, their team leader led them in the opposite direction to the start of the course.

  A countdown over hidden loudspeakers and the blast of a horn signaled the start of the game, and everyone took off in a flat-out run toward the cover of the forest, guns at the ready. Lucy’s heart galloped along in time to her pounding feet, Sam ghosting her at her side. Even through the visor of his helmet, she could make out the big grin on his face, and an answering one stretched across her own.