Woke Up Dead

by Tina Wainscott

  She found herself leaning against the wall by the door, listening to the way the sound of the water changed as it moved over his body. Yes, she had a lot of catching up to do, but did it have to be in the space of one evening? She pushed away from the wall and walked over to where Romeo lay sprawled out on the floor. Sitting next to him, she ran her hand over his smooth hair.

  “Romeo, what am I going to do? I mean, if—no when I get into, you know, that kind of situation, how am I going to pretend to know what I’m doing?” Anticipation and trepidation flowed through her. “It’s easy enough to explain away changes in style over five years, but acting as though I know nothing…” She shook her head, gently grasping the loose skin of his chin and leaning down into the sagging hound dog face. “That’s not going to work. I’m going to be terrified.”

  Romeo let out a sympathetic groan and rolled over to better position himself for her strokes. She listened for the sound of the water. Still going. She wasn’t about to get caught spilling her guts to the dog.

  “I need to talk to Gabby. How am I going to do that without Sam? It’s not exactly the kind of thing I can do on the phone, either. Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo? Can’t you give me some advice?”

  He lifted his head, then laid it back down. “I know, just keep scratching.” His ears were flopped outward, giving him the odd appearance of being caught mid-jump. “How can one dog have so much skin? It just hangs off you like an oversized suit. You look like you’re melting.” She picked up one ear and ran her fingers over the tiny hairs on one side, the smooth skin on the other.

  She was still doing that, but not talking, when Sam emerged from the bathroom. He was wearing the jeans and nothing else. His clothes were balled up in his hands, and he walked into the door adjacent and threw them into a hamper next to the washer and dryer.

  She remembered times she’d had to crawl from the floor to her chair and pull herself up into it. Now she struggled to get to her feet, relishing the act. Most people didn’t appreciate simple actions like standing and walking.

  “My turn,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

  After taking a cool shower, she slipped into a pair of forest green leggings and a matching long shirt and walked out of the bathroom. Sam was standing in front of Romeo holding something in his hand, something Romeo was very interested in.

  “Trick.” Sam placed it on top of his nose. Romeo’s eyes crossed as he tried to see the little piece of meat. “Okay.” Romeo popped it up in the air and caught it in his mouth.

  “Wow, that’s neat,” she said, leaning against the back of the couch.

  He turned to her, his gaze drifting over her before he gave his attention back to the dog. “He’s a smart dog. Watch this.” Pointing at the dog, Sam fired off some ‘shots’. Romeo dropped down, shoulder first, and lay on the floor, feet and ears sprawled out. The only thing that moved were his eyes, and they watched Sam for a sign of release. “Okay. Good boy.” Sam tossed Romeo another piece of meat.

  “What are you giving him?”

  “Some leftover steak from dinner the other night. Romeo, come here. Sit.” Romeo sat directly in front of his master, looking up with those solemn eyes. “Sniff it.” Sam held out the piece of meat, and amazingly, Romeo only gave the meat a nose wiggle. “Stay there.” She watched Sam walk around the couch where Romeo couldn’t see him and tuck a piece in a corner of the entertainment center. Then he walked to the opposite side of the room. “Go find it.”

  Romeo lurched forward, nose to the ground. It amazed her that his paws looked so rubbery; they almost didn’t clear the floor. He made progress, covering the path Sam had taken a moment earlier and going right to the treat. Sam scratched his head. “Good boy.” He looked up at her. “He’s born to do more important things, like find missing children. I only keep him busy with finding treats. Don’t laugh; he’s a great sniffer dog.”

  She met his gaze. “I’m not laughing.”

  He looked at her, and his gaze softened. “No, I guess you’re not. That was the type of thing you’d laugh at. Before.”

  She leaned down and rubbed the dog’s head. “He’s incredible.” Leaning close to his ear, she whispered, “Don’t give away any secrets, now.”

  Sam was leaning against the back of the couch, watching her with raised eyebrows. “Is there something I should know about?”

  She put her hand out, and Romeo held out his paw for her to shake. “Nah, we’re just good friends.”

  Sam dropped back onto the couch, his legs dangling over the back. He took a blue racquetball from a glass dish on the coffee table and started tossing it up, catching it just before it bounced on his face. She walked over and sat down near him on the part of the V that was wider. Romeo settled down by her feet.

  “No wonder he likes you. You’ve been whispering sweet nothings in his ear.”

  She leaned closer. “Would it work on you?”

  He missed the ball, and it bounced off his forehead and onto the floor on the other side of the area. “Don’t fool around like that and make me miss the ball, woman,” he muttered, getting up to retrieve it. He returned to his spot and took up his distraction again. “By the way, you get to return the favor tomorrow night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re coming to my parents’ house for dinner. They’re doing their bi-annual, guilt-tripping-me into having dinner with them. They already knew you were staying with me, so I couldn’t use you as an excuse.”

  “Use me…wait a minute. How did they know I was here?”

  “Sharee called Armand’s to talk to you, and he told her you were staying with me.” He laughed, that deep, sudden laugh that made her insides tingle. “I’ll bet that flipped her lid. Anyway, she’ll be there, along with Ned, so you’ll have someone to gab with all evening.”

  “Sharee’s Ned’s wife,” she said, more to herself as she tried to put the pieces together.

  “Last time I knew. The woman was a bad influence on you, in my opinion.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s the one who put all those ideas into your head about having fancy cars, million dollar clothing allowances, a home by the lake…all that stuff I didn’t care about.”

  “Oh.”

  “She’s going to think you’re crazy giving up Armand.”

  Maxine shrugged, not looking forward to someone confronting her about her decisions. “Well, she should understand that I’m not marrying him because I don’t love him.”

  “Oh, you think that’s the way it works, huh?” He was still tossing that ball, and she fought the urge to snatch it out of the air.

  “Well, didn’t she marry Ned for love?”

  “Maxine, you know better. People in that strata marry strategically. Her father owns several very large corporations. Customers for Ned, a lawyer in the family for them. You know the score—you’re her friend.”

  “I am?” She hid the wrinkle in her nose. “Well, of course, I am.”

  He paused in his ball tossing for a moment. “This whole situation has you on a different plane, doesn’t it? You hardly sound like the Maxine I was married to.”

  “Is that good?”

  “What does it matter?”

  She let out a sigh of frustration. The man was not cutting her any slack. “Maybe it does matter.” She watched the muscles in his arm and chest as he continued tossing that darn ball. She found herself twisting the band of gold on her right finger, wondering if he’d notice—no, when he’d notice she was still wearing it. The right hand seemed safer, less presumptuous. “I found a picture of us. Want to see it?”

  “Not particularly.”

  She got up anyway, needing to expend some of her irritated energy. She pulled out the picture and brought it to the living area. “See?”

  He held the ball still for a moment and looked up at it. “Our honeymoon.” He started tossing the ball again, making her pull the picture back out of the way.

  “I found it in a box of my thin
gs. We looked like we were having fun.”

  “That’s because we were drunk.”

  She glanced at the picture again. “No, we weren’t drunk. We were…in love.”

  “We were drunk.”

  Maxine looked over at the picture of Jennie and wished she could put this picture over that one. Fat chance. Why did it seem as though she were in competition with her old self? Perfect Jennie, who had been the prettiest women he’d ever known, who transcribed perfectly, who made him laugh. Why hadn’t she felt so perfect then?

  She looked down over his upside-down face. Every time he moved, his hair touched her thigh. The ball zinged past her head; Sam’s attention was on that and not her. Riveted to it, actually.

  She let her gaze travel down his throat, over his chest to where his skin disappeared into his jeans. A fine line of hair started over his stomach and traveled downward into that mysterious region of the man’s body. He was gorgeous, every inch of him. That warmth spread through her again, and she longed to touch him. Not intimately; she wanted to start somewhere safe and comfortable. Mm, nothing on Sam looked safe and comfortable. If women were able to get a hard on, she’d have one now. Gawd, what a thought. Was this Maxine’s body talking, or Jennie’s heart? Maybe both.

  She looked back at his face. If he noticed she’d been gawking at him, he gave no indication. Sam had never shut himself away from Jennie like this. That was because he’d obviously cared about her more than she imagined. They’d never crossed over that barrier that opened up all kinds of deeper emotions the way he and Maxine had. Jennie had never hurt him because she wanted more than he could give her. She inhaled a breath, steadying herself. It was time to start this seduction, if she did it well enough to call it that.

  The ball went up, the ball came down. The ball went up, the ball came down. The ball went up—and Maxine caught it. She tucked it away and leaned down over him, her damp waves falling down over her cheeks. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, starting this upside-down, but she was in it now.

  She cleared her throat, but her voice came out all raspy anyway. “Sam, I want another chance. With you.”

  CHAPTER 9

  SAM SAT THERE for a moment, his hand still at the ready to catch the ball. She threaded her fingers through that hand and waited.

  Finally he spoke. “Where’s my ball?”

  “Sam!”

  She stood and approached him from the back of the couch, leaning against his legs. With her weight against him, she lost her balance and braced herself on his thighs. Muscular thighs. Now she was farther away, but at least facing him.

  “Didn’t you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I heard you.”

  She dropped her chin, then finally said, “And?”

  “Either I’m delusional or you are. Or you’re playing games.”

  “I’m not playing games. I want us to give this another try.”

  In one swift move, he grabbed her wrists and yanked her forward. She was now face to face with him, the tips of his moustache hairs tickling her nose. She was lying on his body, being enveloped in the warmth of him. Hey, maybe this wasn’t going to be so hard after all.

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  “Maybe. No, I’m not. Just being around you has made me realize what a fool I was to let you go.” Ooh, Maxine-the-first was a fool, too. Sam’s blue eyes sparkled, but it wasn’t exactly with passion. She lowered her voice, meeting that gaze with honesty in her eyes. “I never stopped loving you.”

  “I think this danger thing has gotten to your head. It puts a new slant on your life when someone wants to end it. You’ll get over it.”

  “I don’t want to get over it. Don’t you see? Haven’t you noticed the way I’ve been looking at you?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, but at first I thought it was my imagination. Figured I’d gone too long without some female company. When I out and out accused you of staring, you didn’t deny it.”

  She shook her head, lifting her mouth so that she felt those tiny hairs over her lip. “I wasn’t trying to be obvious. I just couldn’t help it.” Her heart was beating so fast, it pulsed in her ears. She wondered if he could feel it, too. She didn’t quite like the smile he had as he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.

  “Well, I would have never thought in a million years I’d find myself in quite this position again.”

  “It’s not altogether bad, is it?”

  “Parts of me aren’t griping.”

  She could feel those parts. Slowly, beneath her stomach, that male mystique was growing. She had done that. Her cheeks were burning at the pleasure of that knowledge.

  “What about the rest of you?” she chanced asking.

  “The rest of me isn’t too sure about all this.”

  The last thing Sam would have ever expected was having Maxine sprawled over his body wanting a second chance. Or that he’d be getting a hard-on that she had inspired. He had to admit this situation intrigued him, if only in a this-will-never-really-work way. That’s the only way he’d let himself think about it.

  Her wrists felt tiny beneath his fingers, and he loosened his grip and let his hands drop to the sides of his head. She twined her fingers through his. Her breath was warm and minty, tickling the hairs of his mustache with each exhale. There was something about her eyes, something soft and yearning that reminded him of Jennie. Well, he’d get rid of that, because Maxine was nothing like Jennie. Besides, it was probably his imagination. Had to be.

  In one swift move, he rolled her over onto the wide section of the couch and pinned her beneath him. It worked. She didn’t look soft and yielding—she looked terrified. He didn’t much like that expression either. So what if he kissed her? Big deal. So he did, rubbing his lips over hers, then running his tongue over them. Usually Maxine jumped right in, but now she was rigid and hesitant. This was strange. He slipped his tongue through her lips and ran it along her teeth. That prompted her to open her mouth, though it seemed more involuntary than an invitation. He didn’t need an invitation.

  He heard her suck in a breath as he plunged into her mouth. Her hands were on his shoulders, fingers digging into him. He had to coax her tongue into moving. It finally did cooperate. Now, Sam didn’t mind working at something, but this just wasn’t right. She was trembling, and her breath was coming faster, but not in the way he was used to hearing.

  He changed the kisses to lips-only, and she seemed to relax. When he opened his eyes, he saw that hers were squeezed shut in concentration. This whole scene reminded him vividly of the first time he’d made love to Maxine. She had been a virgin, desperately wanting to please him and unsure how to do it. She’d clung to him, wholly concentrating on what she was doing instead of letting it happen.

  She wasn’t a virgin anymore. He stopped kissing her and rested his chin on his palm. She seemed startled, opening her eyes and looking at him with a dazed expression.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked in a strained voice.

  He’d been so distracted by her strange behavior, he hadn’t realized that kissing her had been a rather nice experience. She had some of the nicest lips he’d ever kissed. His own mouth still felt warm and tingly. Ah, forget that.

  “Where is the woman who started all this?”

  Her eyes widened, pushing away that sweet haze that had filled them. “What do you mean?” Her fingers tightened on his shoulders again.

  “You give me this come-on, put your hands on my thighs and ask me for a second chance. When I put you to the test, you freeze. What’s the deal?”

  “I, uh, I’m not very good at this.”

  He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “Since when?”

  Her cheeks flushed even more than they had already been. “It’s been a long time. A real long time.” At his skeptical expression, she said, “Come on. I didn’t doubt you when you said the same thing.”

  “I haven’t been engaged recently and living with that engagee.”

  “I never slept with Armand.�
��

  That seemed incredibly hard to believe, but he read nothing but honesty in her eyes. “Why?” he found himself asking.

  She went blank for a second. “I didn’t want to. We were waiting until we got married.”

  He laughed again. “Since when did you become so virtuous? As I recall, you couldn’t wait to get rid of your virginity.”

  “You were my first,” she breathed, something odd lighting her eyes.

  “Why do you keep repeating the obvious?”

  She shrugged, chewing her lower lip and making his stomach squeeze with the action. “Try me again. I’ll do better.”

  He ducked his head, shaking it. “Don’t tell me you haven’t kissed anyone in a while either. I can’t see Armand waiting until the marriage bed before getting a smooch out of you.”

  “I’m trying,” she said, giving him a look that went right to his heart.

  He didn’t want to kiss her again, but he found himself leaning forward and capturing her mouth. She opened for him immediately, her breathing rate increasing already. Her tongue moved hesitantly with his at first, but in no time she matched his fervor.

  He had kissed women—he’d kissed Maxine—but this was different. For one thing, she was trying. Really hard. Whatever she was trying at, she was succeeding at, because his insides were starting to warp and bend. He scooped his fingers up behind her head, positioning her better and feeling the softness of her red hair. She let out a small sigh, wrapping her hands up behind his neck.

  Physically, his body was responding to her every breath, to every movement of her mouth against his. Something else was happening inside. Behind that darkness of his eyes lurked a feeling he wasn’t familiar with. His thoughts weren’t telling him that this was his ex-wife, that they would never make it, that he’d only started this to bluff her. They were telling him that he wasn’t kissing Maxine at all, that he was kissing …

  He sat up so suddenly, his head spun. Running his fingers through his hair, he stood despite the dizziness and walked to the entertainment center to place his hand against it for support. His insides were shaking. What was wrong with him? It had to be all the stress of the past month, and then Maxine’s strange reappearance in his life. He turned around, not sure what he’d find. Anger was what he expected; in fact, what he hoped to find. The confusion on her face was worse than anger. She had one hand on her slender throat, the other bracing herself upright.