by Mary Manners
She should have never reached for Sam’s hand. What was she thinking?
Izzy stifled a groan. Who was she fooling…the meddling had already began. Mom had really turned up the heat lately, acting as matchmaker whenever the opportunity presented itself. Izzy decided inviting Sam here today might not have been such a good idea after all.
“I try to put the bad guys in jail,” Sam clarified as he unwrapped his burger. “But sometimes they slip through the cracks.”
Izzy wondered if he’d caught on to her mother’s antics. He proved to be in tune with the slightest details, so perhaps he was already two steps ahead and would prove her ally in diverting Mom’s impending scheming.
“Can’t you cement the cracks to keep the bad guys in?” Tucker’s question held all the innocence of a five-year-old.
“I wish it was that easy.” Sam frowned. “But it isn’t.”
“There aren’t really cracks, honey. Not like you see in a sidewalk.” Izzy chuckled. “It’s a figure of speech.”
“Oh.” Tucker squeezed ketchup onto his hamburger. “Like when you say you love me so much you’re gonna hug the stuffing out of me?”
“Right.” Izzy tweaked his nose. “Just like that.”
“Your work is admirable, but it must also be draining,” Mom said as she closed her compact and, with the slyest grin, tucked it back into her purse. She had opted for a hot dog slathered with mustard. Now she took a nibble, chewed carefully, and swallowed before continuing. “All the time spent sifting through the minutiae of details, facing criminals in a court of law. I admire your tenacity.”
“Thanks.” Sam grimaced. “But some days are better than others.”
“The pursuit of justice must be taxing. It’s important to pace yourself and savor a bit of enjoyment in life.” Mom turned to Izzy. “Isn’t that right, honey?”
“I suppose it is. When one isn’t working double shifts, or washing clothes, or paying bills and rushing to the doctor’s office for a pediatric check-up.”
“My point exactly. You’re due for a break—both of you.” She nodded. “Izzy, didn’t you mention KNOW’s hosting a black tie charity event next week to raise funds for the children’s home?”
“Yes. Friday night,” Izzy said, and then wished she hadn’t.
“I saw the dress you plan to wear. It’s beautiful, sweetheart.” She nodded to Sam. “You should see Izzy’s gown, Sam. It’s gorgeous. And I assure you she’s nothing short of a vision in it.”
“I can only imagine.”
“Why should you only imagine?” Mom opened the throttle. “I’ve already volunteered to keep Tucker for Izzy. The only detail left to fill is that of an escort.”
“I’m not sixteen, Mother.” Heat danced over Izzy’s cheeks. “I don’t need an escort. I am perfectly capable of attending solo.”
It sounded sad, though…the solo part. She’d done it for so long that just the thought of another evening of making small talk among couples made her weary.
“The law firm bought tickets for that.” Sam snapped his fingers at the announcement, and Izzy wondered if he garnered a little too much enjoyment from this sudden collusion with her mother. “I’m sure I could snag one. And I happen to be free Friday night.”
“Perfect.” Mom clapped her hands.
Sam offered a wicked grin. “I volunteer to escort you, Izzy…if you’ll allow me.”
Izzy allowed that last part to sink in.
If you’ll allow me…
The choice was hers. As she nodded slightly, she realized Sam proved dangerous after all. How had she gotten herself into this? She struggled to find words.
“I said I don’t need…” But it was a feeble attempt to deflect what she already knew, deep in her soul. Somehow she did need Sam.
And Sam needed her.
“It’s settled then.” Mom’s tone left no room for debate. She leaned into the table, propping her elbows against the wood, and winked conspiratorially. “I promise you’re going to love her dress, Sam.”
5
Izzy sipped her drink as music swirled around the banquet room. Dinner had been lovely, though with Sam at her side, it had taken half the meal for her nerves to unknot.
Sam was handsome in a suit that looked like it was tailor-made to fit his broad shoulders and long limbs. The navy silk tie, lightly-patterned, drew out the deep blue of his eyes against a clean-shaven face.
He’d seemed somehow changed, more relaxed, when he’d arrived at her front door that evening. How odd that the tables were suddenly turned. Where she had been calm and level-headed, Sam had stood tense and full of second-guesses. Now questions riddled Izzy’s thoughts and all she could do to ease them was twist at the cloth napkin draped over her lap.
“It’s OK.” Sam, as if sensing her uneasiness, drew the cloth from her hands and set it on the table. He offered her a smile.
All Izzy could think was, wow. Sam’s gaze, so intense and focused, captivated like a spell. She was powerless to resist his charm, and the feeling tossed her universe into a tailspin.
She liked to be in control. Life was comfortable…easy…when she called the shots.
But that control was in jeopardy.
“Dance with me?” Sam asked, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he reached for her hand. He seemed to be enjoying this…the music, the food, the laughter…time with her. “I love this song.”
So Sam enjoyed the easy, mellow rhythm of jazz music. What else brought him enjoyment? Suddenly, she felt a deep-seated urge to know.
Izzy shivered as their fingers connected, though a warmth coursed through her that heated her to the bone. She hadn’t felt this way since…
Well, it had been a long, long time. And even then, with Tucker’s father, there was no true comparison.
She’d been young and foolish, and she’d paid dearly for her immature choices. Yet those choices had brought her the greatest blessing of her life.
They’d brought her Tucker.
Trying to make sense of it all only served to further confuse her, so she put one foot in front of the other.
And trusted…even when that trust came with the greatest measure of difficulty.
“Come on, Izzy.” Sam stood, taking her with him. His breath whispered along her cheek, bringing with it a veil of calm. “They’re playing our song.”
“Our song?” The words came on a breath. “Since when do we have a song?”
“Since today…now.”
Though her heart cautioned to take things slow, Izzy allowed Sam to lead her to the dance floor. They joined the other couples there as if she and Sam were more than strangers, and this was the most natural thing. The music played a slow languid tune and Sam drew her in. The scent of his aftershave, a clean complement of pine and citrus, smoothed the last jagged edges from Izzy’s nerves.
He seemed completely at ease as they began to move together. She had not expected this change in him. Was it only a week ago that he had nearly chewed her head off over the radio waves? And merely days since they’d sparred at Holt Park? During conversations there, the scowl had only left his face in the presence of Tucker.
The two had hit it off without missing a beat. Tucker would not have been more star struck had he met his favorite superhero.
Izzy sighed. Tucker had asked about Sam every day, inquiring when the two might see each other again. Perhaps the child was simply longing for another sip of the forbidden caffeinated soda Sam had shared with him. Or perhaps he wished for more.
Perhaps he longed for a father to take him fishing…for a male to have those man-to-man conversations with as he grew.
Stop, Izzy…don’t torture yourself.
She couldn’t deny the fact that Tucker had rushed to the door with an enthusiasm that rarely bloomed when Sam arrived earlier that evening. The two shook hands and chatted like they’d been forever friends. Sam had even brought an old soccer medal to show him, and had ended up gifting it to Tucker.
Then he’d promised to at
tend Tucker’s next soccer game.
Tuesday evening. Three days from now.
“You look beautiful.” Sam broke into Izzy’s thoughts as he twirled her slowly, and for a moment she felt as if they existed in their own little world. It was at once invigorating…and terrifying. “Your mom was right…I love the dress.”
It was a little knee-length black number that clung to her curves—not that she really had any curves to showcase. She’d always considered her build more athletic than voluptuous. When she’d made the purchase, Izzy had thought the lightly-sequined garment flattering yet modest. Now, in Sam’s arms, she felt way over-exposed.
“I need a sip of water.” Izzy stepped back from Sam. “I need air.” She turned away—plowing right into the couple beside them. The collision rocked her, and she lost her balance, stumbling from one of her spike-heeled pumps. Sam caught her, stooped to gather the shoe, and slipped it back on her foot.
The skim of his fingers along her instep might have been the touch of embers with the warmth they ignited.
For a moment, Izzy stopped breathing. The room swirled around her, blending to a muted rainbow of color. Voices buzzed like angry wasps in her ears.
“Izzy?” Sam’s voice floated by. “Iz…are you OK?”
Izzy found her breath—and her voice. “No.”
She lost a shoe as she bolted toward doors that led to an outside verandah.
~*~
Sam wove his way through the crowd, closing the distance between he and Izzy. She crashed through double doors that led to an open-air verandah, and the glass panes threatened to shatter beneath the force of her impact.
What had he said to upset her so?
Their conversation replayed through his brain as he crossed through the doors and saw her hunched over the rail, gulping for air.
“Izzy?” He headed that way as concern flooded. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“Stay back.” She held up a hand, traffic cop style, to stop him. “Don’t come any closer.”
Sam paused at the high-pitched tone of her voice. Suddenly, she looked frightened as a kitten caught in a tree.
“What’s going on?”
“You tell me.” She lifted a gaze that churned like stormy sea water.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean. We were talking…laughing…dancing.” He nodded. “That’s all.”
“Really? That’s all?”
“Yes. What else do you think is going on here?”
“You’re different tonight. Happy.”
The word startled Sam. Happy. Yes, he felt happy, truly happy, for the first time in a long time. Something about being with Izzy chased away the sadness he’d harbored for so long. It was as if he set it on a shelf and forgot about it for a while. It felt…good.
“Is being happy a crime?”
“Of course it isn’t a crime.”
“Then what? Talk to me, Izzy.”
“I don’t know where to start.”
“The beginning is always a good place.”
“I have a history, Sam.”
“Don’t we all?”
“Mine is riddled with careless decisions.”
“So you’re human. We’re all human, Izzy, and I can’t say I’m sorry for that.” He leaned back against the rail and crossed his arms, glad that there were no other people near to witness their conversation. Everyone was inside having a good time. He and Izzy should be inside enjoying the music. Dancing. But she was out of sorts, and that set him on edge, as well.
Because he cared for her…something he’d promised himself wouldn’t happen.
But it had, so there was no point in turning back now.
“Should I be sad again?” He scooped a lock of her hair and gently tucked it behind her ear. “I can scowl if you’d like. I hear I’m an expert at that.”
He tightened his features, his lips dipping to a frown just to prove the point. She’d mentioned his proclivity toward disdain several times while at the park together.
“Oh, this is coming out all wrong, Sam. I just…” She turned from him to gaze out along the rolling greens of the golf course upon which the banquet hall was located. Muted lights shimmered over the lush lawn while a breeze whispered through a stand of pines. “I just don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get?” The patient words came easily to Sam. He was used to drawing out details in the courtroom, gathering essential information. He put his skills to the test here, and hoped for a breakthrough.
“What…” Izzy hesitated. “…you want from me.”
“That’s a fair question.” One he couldn’t answer. Not fully, at least. Not yet.
He’d expected her to cancel this evening before it arrived, and had actually kept his phone in easy reach as he prepared at the law office for an upcoming case. At first he felt the same, convinced their time together at the park was merely a fluke. But as the week wore on, relief replaced apprehension until he found himself hoping no call would come.
And it hadn’t. So he’d donned his suit and gone to pick Izzy up that evening, expecting a quick, stilted drive to the banquet hall followed by minimal conversation. They’d get through it, and then he’d drop her off at her house, head home, and their paths would never again cross.
But instead of the scenario he’d imagined—darkness and discomfort—he’d found light and laughter.
Tucker had greeted him at the door, chattering a mile a minute about school and soccer and the two-liter of soda that Lorna had smuggled in to accompany their pizza delivery. Sam had lifted an age-old soccer medal from his suit pocket—he still wasn’t sure what had made him think to bring it along—and the kid’s eyes had lit up as if Santa had just dumped the entire sleigh of toys at his feet.
As the kid oohed and aahed over his new treasure, Izzy entered the room. A single glance her way, and Sam thought he might swallow his tongue.
She was a vision in a black sequined dress that shimmered in the lamplight as it subtly accentuated the soft, rounded curves of her figure. Hair the color of warm honey spilled to her waist as the delicious scent of her perfume kissed his senses..
“Hi, Sam.” Izzy had smiled, warming him to the very core. He felt a mixture of peace and excitement that he hadn’t felt in years. Too many years.
“Hello.” The word came on autopilot, because right then Sam’s brain short-circuited. Izzy stood beautiful, striking, lovely…all rolled into one.
Suddenly his plans to make a showing followed by a quick retreat went straight out the window.
He wanted the night to last forever.
“Are you going to answer my question, Sam?” Izzy’s voice drew him back to the present. “I asked you to clarify what we’re doing here…what you want from me.”
Sam may have wished for the evening to last forever, but Izzy didn’t seem to share his feelings. Her gaze speared him with heat that matched the brilliance of stars gathered overhead.
“I’m not sure what we’re doing here, Izzy.” It was true. Sam felt as if he’d been transported to an alternate universe. At once nothing and everything made sense. “But I want to dance with you again.”
“That’s all?”
“Yes. That’s all.” He touched her shoulder gently, and felt the oh-so-slight shift in her posture. Suddenly he felt a knowing deep in his soul that this evening—this conversation—had a purpose beyond a shared dance or two. “For now.”
Izzy shivered. She was obviously anxious. Was she afraid of him?
Or more aptly afraid of them…together? The tough demeanor she carried seemed to suffer a fracture deep inside.
Why?
Sam pondered the question as he drew her from the rail.
“I want to know your story, Izzy…your history.” Music whispered along the verandah through closed double doors. Slowly, with care, he began to move in time to the beat, taking her with him. “When you’re ready I’d like you to share.”
“Not tonight.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “I
’m not ready, Sam.”
“Fair enough. We have plenty of time.”
The doors swung open…music sighed and swirled around them, chasing away the rest of the world until nothing remained but the two of them.
Together, they danced.
7
“Mom, come on!” Tucker called as Izzy swung the car into a parking space at Holt Park Tuesday evening. “Hurry. I see Sam waitin’ for us.”
“Hold your horses.” Izzy switched off the ignition and gathered the bag of snacks she’d brought for the team.
“But he came, Mom.” Tucker scurried from his booster seat and Izzy heard the rear passenger door pop open. “Sam promised to watch me and he came.”
Izzy’s heart did a little two step as she gazed across the soccer field to find Sam waiting along the team sideline. Shifting rays of springtime sunlight drenched the grass in a bath of warmth that seemed to mirror the heat that blossomed in her belly at the memory of the evening they’d spent dancing.
She drank in his dark good looks. Faded jeans and flannel had never looked so good.
“Can I go, Mom?” Tucker asked as he scooted from the vehicle. He peeked at her through the door opening. “Can I go say hi to Sam?”
“Go on.” They were at the curb along the grass, and she could watch him the whole way. “I know you’re dying to say hi to him.”
“Yep.”
Tucker ran off without shutting the door. Like a flash, he crossed to the far side of the field to greet Sam with a high-five.
What will happen when Sam gets his fill of us…when he moves on to better things?
The thought came without warning, casting a damper on Izzy’s emotions. She pushed the words from her mind and chastised herself for thinking so negatively. She refused to allow the worry to take root.
Because, she had learned the hard way that worrying over things did no good at all. In fact, worry often did the opposite…the whole self-fulfilling prophecy sort of mindset.
Besides, she was no longer the insecure young woman she’d been when she got tangled up with Tucker’s father. Her faith had shown her a brighter path…and her true worth.