The Last Time We Kissed

by Ann Roth

  “I’m impressed with the level of detail,” Amy said with a pleased smile. “The kids will love this. As fairies and elves, they’ll dance happily in your enchanted forest.”

  “That’s what Mariah said.” His niece had driven him crazy repeating the story that framed each dance, which Amy and the entire group had developed together. His mouth quirked. “Once we glue on the leaves, we’ll add glitter, some of that spider webbing people use for Halloween, and a lot of strategically placed dry ice to turn our forest into the magical place it becomes at midnight.”

  “Sam can get the dry ice through Cutter’s,” Connie added. “And I have a big, round moon I bought once for a party. I thought I’d spray paint it silver and then dust it with glitter. I’ll also sew a chiffon curtain to hang across the stage for atmosphere, and glittery clouds to go with the moon.”

  “What great ideas,” Amy said with sincerity. “But those things are going to take time.” Head tilted she threw Sam a questioning look he easily interpreted—could he handle working again with Connie? “Are you sure you’re willing to put in that much effort?”

  The blonde nodded. “Things move fast when Sam and I work together. We make a fantastic team.” In the artificial light, her lipstick looked garish and unflattering, and her cheeks unnaturally pink from a makeup overdose. She arched one brow suggestively and waved her long, rose-painted nails in a dismissive gesture. “I know you’re busy, Amy. There’s really no need for you to stay and help.”

  Sam didn’t hide his disagreement, frowning as he slanted his hip against the door. “I want Amy here.”

  Only to act as a buffer, he told himself.

  Connie’s mouth tightened, and she looked ready to argue. Dreading a debate, and not wanting to explain, he sent Amy a silent, urgent appeal he hoped she wouldn’t refuse. So far she’d played her part well.

  Her eyes widened a fraction, and then she dipped her head in a subtle nod of understanding. “I’m not planning to take over or anything. I just figured since both of you have limited time, and I have a few hours free this afternoon, an extra pair of hands would speed things along.”

  “I see.” Connie nodded, but her gaze narrowed appraisingly as she looked from Sam to Amy. “I’d heard you two were once married to each other. But I never realized… Sometimes I am so thick-headed! You’re getting together again, aren’t you?”

  The very words made Sam cringe. The last thing he wanted was to start up something with Amy. “There’s not a chance in hell of that,” he stated, while Amy reinforced the sentiment with a vigorous shake of her head.

  Connie opened her mouth, no doubt to make matters worse. Thankfully, the sudden ring of a cell phone put an end to the conversation. “That’s mine. Excuse me.” She retrieved the slim phone from her purse and flipped it open. “Hello?” Adjusting her thick gold earring, she listened, then frowned, turned her back and lowered her voice. A moment later she hung up. “That was Janelle. She’s not feeling well and wants me to come get her. One of her friends had strep last week. I just hope Janelle hasn’t contracted it. If it is strep, you may want to run Mariah to the doctor, Sam, and get her started on medicine. In any case, I’m afraid I’ll have to leave.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Amy said. “Tell Janelle I hope she feels better soon.”

  Though Sam wasn’t sorry to see the blonde go, he managed a nod of agreement.

  “We’ll have to schedule another work party later.” Waving her fingers, Connie sashayed toward the door. “You two have fun. I’ll call you to arrange a time, Sam.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” he muttered, but she didn’t seem to hear. As her mules clicked loudly across the wood stage, he frowned at Amy. “No wonder that woman is divorced. Her husband should have put a stop to her outrageous behavior long ago.”

  Instead of a nod of agreement, his words earned him a scathing look. “I admit, I don’t care for her flirtatious ways, and I’m sure her ex-husband didn’t, either. But Connie is the sole person responsible for her actions, not her ex-husband or anyone else.”

  Having no clue what she meant, Sam angled her a puzzled look.

  “You don’t get it, do you? But why is that a surprise?” Amy sighed and shot him an imperious frown. “Not all men keep their women on the short rein you do.”

  Both her voice and the you-are-so-clueless look irritated Sam. Hanging his thumbs from the belt loops of his jeans, he narrowed his eyes. “What in hell are you talking about?”

  “Don’t you remember?” Anger flashed in her eyes as she lifted her chin. “You wanted to be the boss, run the house and control me.”

  “Control you,” he repeated, shaking his head at the long fluorescent bulbs hanging overhead. “All I wanted was for us to have the kind of marriage my parents had.” Back then, he’d believed his father’s tight handle on the family and household had been the glue that solidified his parents’ relationship. He’d learned the sad truth sometime later, after his divorce—and theirs. “If that bothered you, you never said so.”

  “I know. I was young and confused. We both were.” Absently fingering the tiny silver hoop in her earlobe, Amy stared glumly into space, as if their failed marriage lay in tatters before her. With a sigh, she turned her attention to him, offering a thin smile. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.”

  It mattered, a lot more than Sam cared to admit. “It does when you still resent me.”

  Amy bit her lip and glanced at the littered floor. Needing to see her eyes, Sam closed the gap between them and tipped up her chin. Her skin was soft and warm against his hand, and he caught the faint scent of vanilla. That was something new that he definitely liked.

  A parade of emotions rolled across Amy’s face. Surprise, then anger, then hurt. She’d always been as easy to see through as a picture window.

  She jerked her head from his grasp, backing away until the scarred counter lining the wall stopped her. “I quit resenting you a long time ago.”

  “Did you?” he snorted in disbelief. “Well, I still resent you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Why, for defying your need to control me?”

  “For walking out.” And for the months of pain, misery and loneliness that followed.

  “One of us had to leave,” she said. “We agreed on that.” She shook her head sadly. “It was the only thing we ever agreed on.”

  Sam conceded the point with a nod. “Except for when to make love. We were in perfect harmony there.”

  Her mouth curled in a smirk. “It always comes back to sex, doesn’t it? Physical attraction is the only thing we ever had, Sam. And when that no longer was enough…” Regret shadowed her eyes, and the words trailed off. Her gaze darted away from his. She picked a felt leaf from the small mountain of green on the counter, smoothing her fingers over it.

  Unfortunately, Sam had never lost his desire for Amy. For years, he’d dreamed about her. He’d badly wanted her the other day when Mariah had first dragged him into the studio. And the night in front of the library. And today, before lunch. With her braid slung over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed and her lower lip caught between her teeth, he wanted her again, now. Hell, he wanted her all the time. But he’d never admit it, and he sure wasn’t going to act on his desire. He was not going to kiss her, or anything else. Period.

  He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Look, I don’t want to rehash what went wrong between us.”

  “I don’t, either,” Amy replied, her mouth turned into a hopeless frown. She released a heavy sigh. “I want us to get along.”

  “All right, then.” He grabbed the glue gun from the counter and pointed it toward the sawhorse. “How about helping me put the leaves on these trees?”

  Chapter Four

  WHEN AMY’S WATCH alarm beeped two hours later, she was amazed. Placing leaves so they looked right required an incredible amount of concentration and effort. For that reason, the long, uncomfortably tense afternoon she’d anticipated had flown by. She’d actually laughed some, too. Which was remarkable,
considering she’d done her laughing with Sam.

  She tacked two leaves onto a now-verdant tree branch before silencing the alarm. “Looks like it’s time for me to go.”

  Sam flipped the switch on the glue gun. “Too bad.” He clapped his mouth shut as if he hadn’t meant to say that, then set aside the gun and cleared his throat. “What I mean is, we’re on a roll here. Look how much we finished.”

  Amy glanced at the two leaf-laden trees balanced against the cabinet. “We must have cut and glued several hundred leaves.” Within fifteen minutes they’d run through the pile Connie had cut.

  “You gotta admit, that’s impressive. Once we set aside our differences and got down to business, we did okay.”

  She nodded. “Proving that people can accomplish anything if they work hard enough.”

  “Why didn’t we work this hard when we were married?” His eyes searched her face in genuine puzzlement.

  Equally mystified, Amy shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess we were too young to know how.”

  “Probably.”

  At that, both went silent, lost in their own private thoughts. When Amy glanced at Sam a moment later, he was staring at her. As their glances collided the easy familiarity between them shifted into something far less relaxed. Awareness. Suddenly the very air between them vibrated with it. Sam’s expression warmed, and his eyes turned smoky and intense and smoldering. Amy went all hot inside. The blood throbbed in her ears, and every nerve in her body stood poised and waiting for his attention.

  Not again. She stepped behind a tree stretched across two sawhorses, using it as a barrier between her and Sam. “I really do have to go.”

  “Hot date?” he asked, his expression inscrutable.

  “No.”

  Was that relief on his face? “What then?” he asked.

  “Remember Nina Bartlett?” Amy waited for his nod, then continued. “She’s getting married.”

  “Send her my sympathies,” he quipped.

  His gaze lost its intensity and his mouth stretched in a semigrin. The tension between them eased, and things seemed more comfortable and lighthearted. Amy could breathe easy again.

  “I’m not going to tell her that.” Feigning irritation, she planted her hands on her hips and offered her own smirk. “I’ll give her your congratulations and best wishes.” When Sam frowned, she smiled. “Anyway, Dani and I are getting together tonight to plan the bachelorette party.”

  “Dani, huh? From what I remember, when the three of you get together…” Sam shook his head knowingly. “That’s going to be some wild party.”

  “Not this time. Dani’s pregnant with twins, and that’s bound to temper the evening.”

  “Two babies? Whoa. I’m having trouble with one eight-year-old.”

  He looked so appalled that Amy laughed. “Dani and Russ are really excited. They’ve put away quite a bit of money, so they’ll be able to hire help if they need it.”

  “They’ll need all the help they can get, I guarantee it. Congratulate her for me, will you?”

  “Sure.” That pesky lock of hair brushed the corner of Amy’s eye. She blew it off her face, but it quickly dropped back.

  Sam frowned and moved around the tree, until he stood inches from her. “I can’t stand this anymore.” He tucked the lock behind her ear, his jaw flexed in concentration and his touch awkward. When the strands sprang loose again, he shook his head. “Don’t you have something to keep that out of your eyes?”

  “I lost my hair clip.”

  “Then get another.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They reached for the offending lock at the same time. Their fingers collided. Electricity jolted between them, too strong to ignore. Amy snapped her hand away, but Sam’s stayed put.

  “Damn stubborn thing.” His expression sobered as he smoothed his palm over her hair.

  He touched her temple and the sensitive crest of her ear, and her mind clouded. “Me, or my hair?”

  “Both.”

  Those sensual fingers continued their caress while his hot gaze held her. Amy told herself to back away. Instead, she leaned into his touch. “You’re not exactly flexible yourself,” she murmured.

  His mouth quirked, while his hand stilled above her ear. “At the moment, a certain part of my anatomy is anything but.”

  She managed a disapproving look even as her pulse rate kicked up another notch. “We’re back to sex again.”

  “Can’t seem to get away from it, can we?” Sam’s eyes darkened with a need that matched the ache inside her. “We definitely have a problem,” he said in a voice as rich as liquid smoke. “We’re going to have to deal with it sooner or later.”

  “Oh?” His fingers trailed to her cheek, making it difficult to think, let alone speak. “How so?”

  Were his hands trembling, or was it her own shaky nerves? He inched closer. “We both have this need to find out whether we’re as good together as we used to be.”

  That could be dangerous, she wanted to say. But with his breath warm on her face and his eyes bright and hot as molten silver, she could only nod.

  Lifting his other hand, he cupped her face. “Just one kiss, and then we can put this misplaced attraction behind us.”

  Maybe he had a point. It would be very nice indeed to move past the unwanted desire that kept her awake at night and on edge by day. Besides, right now she needed to kiss him the way she needed to dance. “All right,” she said on a breathy sigh. “But just one kiss.”

  “One,” he agreed solemnly.

  His hands slid to her shoulders and then to her waist. Her arms knew what to do, and natural as you please, she clasped the back of his neck. Her body tingled with familiar expectation, shaping to his as if she’d last kissed him yesterday.

  She didn’t wait for him to initiate contact. Standing on her toes, she rose up to meet him. His eyelids lowered to half-mast, then drifted shut. Released from the spell of his gaze, she panicked. This is a terrible mistake!

  Then his lips touched hers, and she was lost.

  JUST ONE KISS, Sam reminded himself as Amy released a yielding sigh. Her hands tugged him down, urging him closer, and her subtle vanilla scent wrapped around him as tight and warm as her arms. It had been a long time since he’d held her, and it felt so damn good. In a wash of sensation and need, he brushed his mouth over hers. She moved impatiently and canted her head toward his, seeking more than a light kiss. Dear God, she was sweet. A groan slipped from his throat.

  One kiss, he silently and firmly repeated. Then she angled closer, her soft breasts against his chest and her thighs flush with his, and his resolve crumbled. One more couldn’t hurt. He stood a good half foot taller than she and out of habit he lifted her for easier access. She was light and supple and eager, and suddenly it was if they’d never been apart. The blood roared in his head and he coaxed her lips open. This is crazy, he thought as he probed the slick depths of her mouth with his tongue.

  “Sam,” she whispered in the throaty, hungry voice he knew so well, even after all these years. She pressed her hips against his pulsing groin. Desire and need pounded through him, and he forgot to think.

  He wanted her. Now. Cupping her soft, round behind, he backed toward the wall on rubbery legs. In his haste, he bumped the tree supported between the sawhorses. One end clattered to the floor. The jolt to the back of his thigh, coupled with the sharp noise, pierced the fog in his brain.

  What in hell am I doing? As if she had read his thoughts, Amy jerked back, breaking their connection. Sam released her.

  “What was that noise?” she asked, glancing around the room. Her face and neck were flushed, telltale signs of arousal.

  Good or bad, right or wrong, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He swallowed an unsteady breath. “The unpainted tree,” he said hoarsely. At her dazed, blank look, he added, “We knocked it off the sawhorse.”

  “Oh.”

  She touched her mouth—red from his kisses—with the tips of her fingers. Damn
ed if he didn’t want to kiss her again. And more. He squelched that urge, pronto. He wasn’t about to get involved with Amy, sexually or otherwise, not again. Once had been enough. He glanced down and snickered to himself. Tell that to his body.

  She bent down and picked up the fallen tree. Sam moved to help her but she waved him off. He understood. They needed to stay far away from each other.

  He pushed the sawhorses together. “About what happened… Well, it was a bad idea.” Bad, but very hot.

  “Certainly was,” Amy hastily agreed as she returned the tree to its place on the sawhorse. “At least now, we’re out of each other’s system.”

  Sam didn’t believe that for a second, and by the way she pulled her braid over her shoulder and nervously fiddled with the ends without meeting his eye, he knew she didn’t, either.

  “Thank God for that,” he said with all the conviction he could summon.

  She nodded, and an uncomfortable beat of silence ticked between them. She made a show of glancing at her watch. “I have to go, or Dani will kill me.”

  She started for the door, and Sam trailed after. “I don’t mean to get married, ever again,” he said.

  In the threshold she stopped, spun around and threw him a puzzled look. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  Her genuine confusion made him feel foolish, and he shoved his hands into his hip pockets. “Nothing, I guess. I just don’t want you getting the wrong idea about what happened.”

  She gestured away the words. “I’m no longer the naive girl I once was, Sam, so you can stop worrying. Besides you’re not the kind of man I want. Would you get the light switch?” she asked as she moved through the door.

  She was looking for a male totally different from him. That made perfect sense, so Sam didn’t like or understand the cold feeling her statement caused in his gut. He frowned as he shut off the lights, plunging the workroom into darkness. “Enlighten me, Amy. What exactly is your type?”