Saving Sam (The Wounded Warriors Book 1)

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Saving Sam (The Wounded Warriors Book 1) Page 6

by Beaudelaire, Simone


  Sam walked her over to the table where Ray and his other friends were waiting. The closer they got to the table, the bigger the smiles became on the men's faces. No shock Amy's expression turned self-conscious, but it provoked completely foreign emotions in Sam. For the first time in his life, he felt protective, if not possessive, of the slim woman whose hand clung to his.

  “And here's the man himself,” Ray said. “And the infamous Amy. Didn't I tell you she was hot?”

  Amy blushed deeply and looked towards the ground. Sam knew she must hate the eyes on her, but he couldn't deny feeling pride in the appreciation his friends openly showed. Amy's humble nature and demure ways only endeared her to him more. Her inability to see how beautiful she was only added to her attractiveness. Looking into her lovely face melted all Sam's hard feelings away.

  “Yes, gentlemen,” Sam said. “This is Amy Owens, and before you get any ideas, she's mine. Amy, this is Ray, Jack, and Mike.”

  * * *

  This is big. Really big. Much more than she had expected, and it strengthened Amy's psyche. Sam was putting a claim on her, publicly. She deliberately took herself back over the last twenty-four hours. He wanted her for his girlfriend, and she wanted that too. Amy longed to be someone Sam could be proud of. She loved him and that love made her strong enough to endure even the most uncomfortable situations.

  She squeezed his fingers and said, “Pleased to meet you all, and good to see you again, Ray.”

  She could feel Sam's hand stiffen in hers. He hadn't expected her to speak.

  “So, Amy,” Ray answered, not noticing the nonverbal exchange, “what do you do?”

  “I work at the Wallace Ranch. I'm kind of the… front desk person.”

  “What does that mean?” Mike asked.

  Her eyes shifted from the flirtatious Latino man to an unassuming, soft-spoken redhead in a pair of hideous, military issued eyeglasses. BCGs, she remembered Sam calling them. When she had asked him what that meant, he had smiled and told her that the soldiers used that term for them. It stood for “birth control glasses” because they were so ugly that whoever wore then surely wasn't going to get lucky. Thinking about that conversation, Amy suppressed her urge to laugh. Thankfully, her unsuppressed smile was appropriate for that moment. “I answer the phones, meet guests, arrange tours for school children… you know, all that stuff. I've just finished my business degree. Mr. Wallace has promised I'll be the office manager when the current manager retires this summer.”

  “That's great!” Jack seemed impressed. She smiled. Though Jack's towering bulk should have been threatening, to Amy, the dark-skinned man had polite manners and a self-deprecating, white toothed grin that put her instantly at ease. It appeared Jack was a trusted friend to those he protected. But I'd hate to see him mad, even though he isn't threatening right now.

  “Yeah,” Amy beamed. “I can't wait.”

  Sam's look had turned frankly astonished. He'd clearly had no idea all this was going on behind the scenes. Did he think I'd sat home waiting for him all those years? Well, she had, but only when it came to relationships.

  “Get you anything to drink?” A waiter with a black goatee and matching hair, silvered at the temples, asked.

  The guys requested beer, and Amy a glass of white wine. She got carded as usual, since most people tended to mistake her small stature for youth. None of the others were carded, of course. She rolled her eyes and fished her ID out of her purse.

  Watching the awkward young man Sam had introduced as Mike grab a bowl of the free popcorn, Amy was reminded how little Sam had consumed all day. Since breakfast, he had eaten nothing. His lunch plate had gone basically untouched, though he had tried to move the food around a bit in order to appease her. She hadn't been fooled and, worried about his appetite, she looked around the room in frustration, but then inspiration struck.

  “Um, Sam?” she asked in a gentle, wheedling voice.

  “Yes, baby?” He was watching the game on one of the big-screen televisions, only half paying attention.

  “I'm a little hungry,” she admitted. Only a little, after chicken fried chicken, mashed potatoes, okra and cornbread.

  “Okay, when the waiter comes back, get yourself something.” He still wasn't paying close attention. I wonder what he would do if I pinched him?

  She scanned the menu for something she could eat. It had to be something she could also tempt Sam into eating. Chili cheese fries? Yeah, that should work; he was always a sucker for those. They would taste terrible with her wine, but what could she do? She would have to think ahead in the future.

  Before long, everyone was sipping from icy bottles, and Amy from her glass. The other soldiers, upon hearing her food order, had suddenly become ravenous, and the fries were joined by hot wings and burgers.

  “Sam?” Jack said, and her boyfriend turned towards his friend. “Did you do… what Jorge asked?” The man's deep voice sounded flat and hollow, Amy noted.

  The color drained from Sam's face at his friend's words and he took a large gulp of beer, appearing to be contemplating an answer. “Not yet,” he said at last. “But I will.”

  “If you'd rather… I could do it. I've been corresponding with… her a bit, you know, writing letters and stuff.”

  Sam's pinched expression turned relieved. “If you would, Jack, I'd really appreciate it.

  I wonder what that's all about, Amy thought, her eyes traveling between Jack and Sam. Then she glanced at Ray and was startled to notice his clenched jaw and narrow, suspicious eyes. What's stuck in his craw? “What's going on?” she asked, knowing she was being nosy, but too curious to care.

  “Nothing,” Sam replied quickly. “War stuff. A conversation between people you don't know.”

  “Okay.” Amy accepted the prevarication. There's more going on here than he's telling me. But she let it go, returning her attention to tempting Sam's appetite. Amy picked up a thick-cut potato stick, ran it deep into the chili and caught Sam's eye, taking a slow bite and closing her eyes.

  “Good?” Sam asked, eyeing the fries with more interest than she'd seen.

  “I never eat this stuff,” she admitted, “too fattening.” Then she hummed in appreciation of the rich, greasy flavor. No wonder he likes these. They're amazing… and I won't be able to fit into my jeans later.

  “So, good then?” Sam repeated, pestering her with an unrepentant grin.

  Amy didn't respond. Instead, she bit her lip and tried to look enticing… without looking enticing, hoping Sam would take the bait.

  Ray glanced at her with thinly veiled lust. “You don't need to worry about that. Curves on a woman are a good thing.”

  Sam smiled knowingly, at least until he heard Ray's comment. Then his grin turned to a scowl. She shot the man a shy smile, both flattered and disturbed by his open appreciation and flirtatious compliment. Sam narrowed his eyes, his expression turning predatory.

  “Don't glower, baby,” she told him, placing one hand on his chest, demanding his attention. “Here, try it. They hand make these fries fresh, right here in the kitchen. They're not frozen in a bag.”

  She extended the delicious, greasy mess towards her boyfriend, silently urging him. He nipped the fry off right at the edge of her fingers, letting his lips brush her skin. Then he chewed thoughtfully.

  “Pretty good,” he admitted. “Not as good as Janie's, but…”

  Amy giggled. “No body's cooking is as good as hers.”

  Sam smiled, “true.”

  Though she had to act like a siren to do it, she was able to get most of the fries into Sam. It felt bizarre to do this naughty stuff in front of his friends, but she wanted to be sure Sam ate. She was acting totally out of character, so much so that she even surprised herself. She had no idea she was capable of behaving in such a seductive and manipulative manner.

  Even more amazing, once she decided to be outgoing, just like that, she was. It gave her an incredible sense of freedom to allow herself to be open and direct, even fun. T
o her surprise, she discovered the only thing holding her back was herself. Once she had committed to jumping in whole-heartedly, it wasn't hard to talk to the soldiers. They were built and hot and everything that usually scared the hell out of her, but they were people too. They had interests they liked to talk about, personalities… it made it easy for her to engage in conversation.

  How much of my shyness, she wondered, is really just a choice? Had she consciously withdraw into herself rather than choose to talk to people? Maybe she had, but why? It didn't seem like it was necessary after all, and it left her pondering.

  The hardest one to be friendly with was Ray. His dark eyes reminded her of Sam's, but he was overtly flirtatious, and that confused her. She was with Sam. Why would his friend be trying to flirt with her?

  * * *

  Amy wasn't the only one who noticed Ray's increasingly inappropriate behavior. After a while, Sam started to give him some hard looks that Amy's gentle teasing couldn't erase. Eventually, she left to use the bathroom and when she did, Ray leaned back in his chair in order to check out her backside as she went. This not only left her with a self-conscious grimace on her face, but it infuriated Sam.

  “Hot,” Ray said.

  “Listen, Lozano,” Sam snarled snarling, “quit checking out my girlfriend. You're starting to piss me off.”

  “Chill, Wallet,” Ray replied, unconcerned with his friend's warning and using a nickname an old military friend had created for him. “I can look, right? I just can't touch.”

  “Don't. Call. Me. That.” The steam was almost visible as Sam threatened to combust.

  “Ray,” Jack said, “I think you'd better quit. He's not going to be reasonable where this one's concerned. Leave Amy alone.”

  “Come on, guys, what's the big deal? I looked at her. I didn't invite her back to my apartment.” He sipped his beer, but Sam noticed his fingers were tight on the sweaty bottle.

  “I've had enough,” Sam said. “Keep your eyes… and your comments to yourself.”

  “Jeez, what's your problem, man?” Ray rolled his eyes, irritated.

  “You're my problem.”

  “Okay, okay,” Jack extended an arm out to steady both of the slightly intoxicated airmen. “Stand down, gentlemen. This is getting out of hand.”

  “Dude, you're not the boss of me anymore,” Ray barked at Jack, but his words had little bite. Not to mention you just sound childish, prick. “Besides, I'm not doing anything wrong here. It's Wallace having a fit.”

  Jack sighed, scrubbing the dark skin of his forehead with one massive, calloused hand. “I thought you two were past this petty shit.”

  “I can't help it if Sam's the jealous type,” Ray snickered, unrelenting.

  Sam clenched his fists, whether to hit Ray or prevent himself from doing so, he wasn't sure. That jackass better watch his mouth.

  Amy returned from the bathroom, and her arrival managed to halt Sam's internal rush towards violence.

  * * *

  Jack looked from her to Sam to Ray. She was a pretty girl, and he could understand being a little possessive of her, but Sam was going too far. And Ray was pushing it. It seemed the innate competitiveness between the two of them was going to focus on this one slender woman. He hoped Amy had the sense not to respond to Ray's flirting.

  All the men stood as she approached the table. She grinned and waved them back to their seats, except for Sam. She walked close to him and slid her arm around his waist, laying her head on his shoulder. He hugged her gently. Wow, I think he must love her. He's never acted like that with a girl before. It was always dirty groping and sleazy comments. No wonder he doesn't want Ray flirting. This isn't a conquest. She's something much more to him.

  “Are you ready to go, baby?” he asked.

  “Yes, I think so, if you are,” she replied.

  “Yeah, I'm done here. Later, guys.” Sam gave a short wave and began to escort Amy toward the door.

  “It was nice to meet you all,” she said softly over her shoulder.

  “VERY nice to meet you,” Ray said in a seductive voice, accentuating his Spanish accent just a little, making himself sound like Don Juan.

  “Mister Lozano,” she said, her voice hesitant at first, but with growing firmness, “you're not going to get anywhere with that, so you might as well give it up. You can't take me away from Sam, so don't try.”

  Good job, Amy-girl, Jack thought as Ray slumped, scowling into his seat.

  * * *

  Sam stared, stunned again. Not that many years ago, Amy would never have confronted someone who was teasing her. She would have run away, uncomfortable and embarrassed. Hearing Amy express her disinterest in his friend, Sam not only felt reassured, but also impressed by her strength.

  He walked her out to the car, his arm still around her, and, before he opened the door for her, pulled her even closer and kissed her within an inch of her life. He left her weak and breathless, not to mention shocked by his unexpected display of affection. Her muddled expression made him want to shout with triumph. Amy bit her lower lip, giving him a sideways smile which left him feeling more intoxicated than the beer.

  “Did you like meeting my friends?” he asked as he loaded her into the car.

  “I would like it better if they had girlfriends. Single guys compete too much,” she replied.

  He thought about her comment as he walked around to get into the driver's seat. He threw the car into drive and started for the ranch. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he asked, “And just where did this bold, confident Amy come from?”

  “I didn't want to embarrass you,” she replied, in that tiny, timid voice he knew so well.

  He glanced in her direction before returning his attention to the road. “You never could. I liked you just fine when you were shy for everyone but me.”

  “Would you rather I went back to that?”

  “Amy,” Sam said seriously, “Please, don't be anything for me. Be yourself. Be what you want to be. If you're not real, how can we be together? There's only room for one screwed-up mess in this relationship, and I already claimed that title.”

  “Sam,” she said hesitantly, turning the conversation in a direction he didn't like, “if you're so… screwed up, why don't you… talk to someone about it? I know the military has people who can help. You're going back next week, right?”

  “Yes.” His answer was terse. I don't want to lie on some couch and talk about my feelings. Besides, soldiers only have five feelings anyways; happy, tired, horny, hungry, and angry. If I'm hungry then I eat, if I'm tired, I sleep, if I'm horny then I'm happy I have Amy, and if I get angry, well, I can work out. What else do I need?

  “There are all kinds of options available to help. There are chaplains, counselors, everything. If something really horrible happened, if it's too much for you, don't keep it bottled up, don't just suffer. I don't like seeing you hurting.” She touched his hand.

  For Sam, Amy's touch was more soothing than any counselor could ever be. I have everything under control I'm dealing with everything just fine. Hadn't all his training been meant to prepare him to handle just this kind of thing?

  What soldier hasn't faced the nightmares of war? I'm not a pansy ass; I'm a United States Security Forces Member! He thought to himself. I can't blame her. She doesn't understand and I can't tell her. I don't want to open her eyes to the horrors that exist in the world or the demons that live inside so many of us.

  “I don't need that, Amy. Do you think I'm broken? I can handle it.” His tone was curt, an aggressive bark that sounded far angrier than he had intended.

  She withdrew from him physically, though she did not stop. “Can you? You're not eating and you're barely sleeping.”

  Damn it, gentle, Wallace, remember? “I slept well enough last night.” He tried to distract her from her pestering with a leer.

  “I'm sure,” she replied wryly, a twist of her lips revealing she was aware of his attempt to prevaricate. “And I'll be happy to join you if that m
akes it easier for you to relax.”

  “I'd rather join you. What do you think, Amy? Can we just make sleeping together part of the plan?”

  “I thought we did.”

  He grinned. “Well, yeah, sex of course, but I meant actually sleeping together. Like we sleep in the same bed.”

  “Ah. Yes, we can do that.” Now Amy sounded excited. Liked it that much, did you, baby? You ain't seen nothing yet. I have a thousand more ways to make you scream. “Oh, Sam, stop here,” she urged, pointing at a pharmacy. “No matter what definition of sleeping you're using, we need some protection.”

  “Right,” he grinned then he pulled in to park the truck in a spot next to the entrance. “Stay here. I'll be right back.”

  He was back in a moment, a little plastic bag dangling on his arm.

  “Make a doctor's appointment, sweet Amy. I hate these things. They're not for us.”

  “Okay,” she responded.

  If only, Sam thought, if only things were different. It would be so sweet to forget about birth control altogether, and just let things play out the way they would. Last night had been beautiful and hot, but introducing a layer of latex between them would not be as intense, and it brought a note of… wrongness. It was like saying there was a lack of trust between them. He would just as soon not use them, but he wasn't ready for all that meant. Not yet.

  Chapter 6

  Back at the ranch, Amy returned to her apartment alone. Sam would be joining her shortly, but first he needed to pack up some clothes for the morning and grab his toothbrush. Nervously, she retrieved a few items from the mini-fridge in the kitchen where Janie kept her personal store of delights, popping one in the microwave briefly. She carefully swirled a little porcelain pitcher as she brought her prizes to her bedroom. Setting everything else on her bedside table, she dropped her clothes on the floor, dipped her finger into the pitcher and raised the sweet, sticky substance to her lips just as Sam opened the door.

 

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