The Heartbreaker

by Maddie James

  Chapter Seven

  It was Lamar Thompson who had called the Fire Department.

  Later, he'd told Sam that he'd glanced out his back door and had seen the flames from the grill reaching up into the trees and was sure the fire was going to spread from the limbs to the house. It was Sam who looked mighty embarrassed when the fire chief burst in the back door only to find him sprawled out over the floor looking dumbfounded. Like he'd had no clue the house had nearly caught fire. And it was Lucki who sat there dumbfounded herself, when after all the hoopla was through, she realized just exactly what Dr. Sam Kirk had had on his mind before all hell broke loose. He was going to kiss her.

  Oh, damn. And he was going to kiss her good.

  It wasn't going to be one of those brotherly kisses on the nose.

  It wasn't going to be one of those boy-next-door, you-are-my-best-friend pecks on the cheek. Oh, no. It was all very apparent in his eyes. He was hungry. And it wasn't for steak. It was going to be one of those hot, heavy, wet, passionate, I-want-your-body kisses that was sure to curl a girl's toes and make her feel giddy and sultry and desirous all at the same time. Lucki exhaled, deeply, and watched as Sam talked to the last of the firefighters, the grill flames now doused with inches of cold water. She watched from the door as he bid them goodnight and waved them farewell. And she watched as he turned to her and slowly and steadily walked straight back toward the house. Determined. Yes. Determined.

  Oh, God.

  Lucki backed up several steps. He was coming. What would she do? Would he try to kiss her again? Would she let him? Oh, God! What in the world.. ?

  The door slapped shut and Lucki turned slowly.

  Sam stepped toward her.

  The look was back in his eyes.

  The same look he'd had just seconds before his lips had descended on hers and the siren had gone off in their ears.

  He walked closer.

  Lucki glanced to the floor. The toes of his tennis shoes nudged hers. She felt the gentle touch of his fingertips under her chin. Lifting. Her eyes connected with his. Lucki wasn't sure when she'd seen his eyes look so full of. .oh, God, she didn't want to think about that. Passion? Desire?

  Had she ever seen Sam's eyes full of desire?

  No. But there it was. Plain as day.

  “This time,” Sam began softly, “there will be no interruptions.”

  Lucki let him draw her chin closer and felt her entire body moving forward. The warmth of his breath tickled her lips as his mouth moved and captured hers. Lightly. Softly. Caressingly. Lucki melted. Never had she felt such. .pleasure.

  God. She was kissing Sam Kirk. Sam Kirk. Sam Kirk.

  The boy next door.

  No. The man next door.

  God. Where had he been all her life?

  Where had he been all her life?

  Right here, Lucki. Right here under your nose.

  Right where he's always been.

  It's Sam, Lucki.

  The Heartbreaker.

  With everything she could muster, she broke the kiss with a gasp and stepped backward. With her arms stiff at her side, she stood solidly in front of him and watched the surprised expression on his face.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” she shouted.

  Casually, as if he'd just order French fries at McDonald's, Sam crossed his arms over his chest and said,

  “Kissing you.”

  “But why?” Lucki threw her hands up.

  “Because it was about time.”

  “But, but.. ”

  “But nothing.” Sam took one large step forward and grasped both her upper arms. “And I want to do it again.”

  Before she realized it, Sam had dipped his head closer to hers again. No, she couldn't let this happen. No. She pushed at Sam's chest and looked him square in the eyes. “Sam. No. I don't want.. ”

  Sam had swept her into his arms and a warm embrace meant to tell her exactly what he had on his mind. He kissed her then, so thoroughly, that there was not one thing she could do to stop him. It had been so long since she'd been kissed like that.

  So. Long.

  Correction. If the truth be known, and she was tempted to admit, she'd never been kissed by the likes of Sam Kirk before. No sirree.

  And that scared the living Hades out of her.

  Breaking the kiss, Lucki headed for the door. Without a backward glance or nary a word, she headed for home.

  Home Sweet Home.

  And way too close to the man next door.

  * * * *

  Sam glanced longingly at the back of Lucki's house.

  “Give me a break here, Sam, why don't you? I can't steady this thing all by myself.”

  Sam jerked back to look in front of him. J.J. was trying to upright the birdhouse so they could set it in concrete.

  He grabbed the pole and righted it. Get the job over with, Kirk, then you can worry about Lucki.

  “All right, I'll steady it. Slowly shovel in that concrete, J.J.” The boy did. Sam kept his attention focused on his task until the concrete was poured and they had braced the birdhouse with two-by-fours, some rope, and some stakes firmly planted into the ground.

  Sam stepped back and looked into the air. J.J. joined him.

  Both turned to the other and grinned.

  Mission accomplished.

  Sam's gaze drifted back to Lucki's house.

  It was a little past noon and she hadn't ventured out of her house the entire morning. He'd seen no lights earlier, or movement of any kind. He was worried. Was she all right?

  The way she'd cut out on him the night before, he'd thought she was just mad. Kissing her! What in the hell had gotten into him? He was ready to kiss and paw at her like she was some girl he wanted to get into her pants. Geez. This was Lucki!

  He glanced off and studied about that last thought.

  Hell fire! It was true. That was exactly what he wanted.

  He wanted Lucki Stevenson. He wanted in her pants. He wanted in her heart. He wanted her to fall in love with him and make him happy for the rest of his life.

  But—what did Lucki want?

  Suddenly, her reaction the night before scared him witless.

  She didn't want it, did she?

  He'd seen it in her eyes.

  But maybe. Maybe she was just scared witless, too.

  “Took those dead birds to the animal people at the university over in Peabody to see what killed 'em.”

  Startled, Sam jerked, and looked to Lamar who had stepped up beside them.

  “Oh?” Sam asked.

  “Yep. After I'd left your office the other day, I got looking at those birds a little closer. They'd not been shot.”

  Sam let his gaze drift lower to J.J.'s face. The boy just looked at Sam, expressionless, waiting.

  “Yep. Seems, in fact, that the birds must have gotten into some poison somewhere. Not around my place, I can assure you, but somewhere. Came home to roost and to die, I suppose. Had nothing to do with that boy. Just wanted to apologize.”

  Sam offered J.J. an apologetic look himself and looked back to Lamar. “Looks like J.J. is the one you need to apologize to, not me, Lamar.”

  The older man started, a blank look over his face, then nodded and turned to J.J. “Sorry if that got you into trouble, son.”

  J.J. looked from Lamar to Sam and then back to Lamar again. “No, sir. Don't apologize. It was me who shot up your birdhouse. I'm sorry.”

  Sam felt his chest swell. It was the first time J.J. had actually admitted he'd shot the thing. Did he dare hope things were turning around? Never had he felt so proud in his life. Lamar shook his head. “Fact remains here that I accused you of killing the birds, too. That wasn't your doing.” He glanced then up to the new birdhouse and then back to J.J. “Got my new birdhouse. Guess we're about through with all this, aren't we?”

  He stuck out his hand and J.J. looked at it for a second, then took it and shook. “Yessir,” he said. Lamar gave a firm shake and nodded first to J.J. then to Sam
. “You boys do good work.” He walked off. Sam smiled, knowing it was as close to a thank you as they were going to get. He reached out and ruffled the hair on top J.J.'s head. The shared a quiet moment, each knowing what was on the others mind, then Sam said, “I don't know about you, little brother, but I think we've earned breakfast bar at Buddy's. What do you think?”

  Grinning, J.J. punched his brother in the side. “If we leave now, they still might have plenty of blueberry pancakes.”

  Sam narrowed his gaze at J.J. “Last one in the car is a rotten egg.”

  Both took off with a flash.

  Thoughts of Lucki fleetingly flew through his mind as Sam raced toward the truck. One task for the day was already accomplished. With unexpected results. Now, was brother time. Much needed brother time.

  Lucki, he would have to deal with later.

  He smiled.

  And he would enjoy every minute of it.

  * * * *

  By the time Lucki woke, it was nearly noon. She’d slept way past her normal Saturday morning waking time. Perhaps, she told herself, it was because she’d been up half the night pacing, and watching the lit window to Sam’s bedroom across the driveway. And later, watching the dark house after he’d extinguished the light. And then much later, as she’d sat in the dark in her room just staring out into the night. What Sam did to her body she thought no man would ever be able to do. His kisses were pure gold. The brush of his lips across hers made her tremble like no man had ever made her tremble before. The warmth of his body and the power in his embrace was forever seared into her flesh. Her heart ached to have his closer to hers again. Longed to feel the pound, pound of his every heartbeat match hers tit for tat.

  But—where would all this lead? What did Sam want from her? His kisses were powerful and heady and made her ache for more, but the question remained: What did Sam Kirk want here?

  She had no clue as to his social life in Memphis. Had tried not to keep up with his comings and goings and relationships. Oh, he would come home from time to time and would bring a woman with him to show off to the old crowd and to meet his mother. But not one lasted very long. And now that he was home, Missy had occupied most of his time. Until lately, that is. So, what in the hell did his kisses mean?

  Lucki didn’t know.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  So, the only thing she could do, she decided, was to keep on going like she had been going. Keep on living her life as normal. Keep on going to work and keep on being Sam’s friend. Yes. That’s what she would do. Friends.

  It’s just that they happened to share a wonderful kiss last night.

  Friends.

  Comfortable and long time friends.

  Nothing more.

  She just had to make sure that her “friend” didn’t attempt to screw up her brain anymore with any of those potent kisses.

  * * * *

  For the first time in weeks, Lucki was late for church. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She tried to get to bed early the night before. She’d been dead tired all day, what with staying up half the night fretting about the likes of Sam’s kisses. But still, she’d had trouble falling into that restful kind of sleep that eases the mind and makes one feel at peace.

  It was more of a fitful sleep. With images of Sam and J.J. and Lamar Thompson and the fire chief and Pinky and everyone else with whom she’d come into contact with the past week gyrating through her dream-filled sleep.

  Luckily, Sam had left her alone throughout the day. She’d seen him arrive home with J.J. early in the afternoon. She’d walked them play some catch in the backyard. And she’d heard them laughing inside the kitchen from her own open kitchen window. Happy sounds had emanated from their home, and Lucki was glad. Also, a little melancholy. She was missing her own parents, out on their life’s adventures, and secretly wished she was brave enough to step across the driveway and into Sam’s kitchen to join them in whatever activity they were up to.

  But, she didn’t. She left them alone. Telling herself that both brothers needed the time together. She was glad they seemed to be getting along. And that Sam was spending time with J.J. But if the truth be known, she was scared to death to step one foot inside Sam’s house again.

  Scared she’d throw herself into his arms and dare to jump his bones. And she’d promised herself that wouldn’t happen.

  It couldn’t happen.

  It would be heartbreak city all over again. And worse.

  So, when Lucki finally slammed the driver’s side door on her truck, flew up the back steps to the church, quickly donned her choir robe, grabbed a hymnal, and started for the small door at the back of the choir loft, she had no clue that she would meet with any kind of dilemma. But dilemma there was. Sitting right in front of her.

  In fact, sitting in her choir seat.

  Hers.

  Sam.

  Her Sam. In the choir loft. Sitting in her seat.

  And there she stood. All eyes focused on her. Reverend Halcomb turned in mid-gesture as he motioned the congregation to rise. Eloise Hunter’s fingers poised over the piano. And Lamar Thompson’s face still frozen in an eternal state of blankness.

  She had no choice. Avoid Sam she could not.

  Excusing herself, she quietly slid in front of him and took the empty seat next to him. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t acknowledge him in any way. She just kept her gaze straight ahead. Opened the hymnal to the requisite page. Stood like everyone else. And started to sing.

  Sam reached up and grasped her hand and pulled her back down into her seat. She turned then, the choir members making a small covey to hide them from view of the entire congregation.“What are you doing?” she whispered. “You don’t sing.”

  Sam leaned toward her, a sparkle in his eye. “I just started.”

  “Well, you’re in my seat!” she whispered back.

  “So, you’ve got one, right?”

  Lucki glanced down and realized that her hand was still clasped in his, and that he was caressing her fingers. Around them, “The Old Rugged Cross” droned on.

  “We shouldn’t be down here. We should be up there singing,” she returned in a urgent whisper.

  “If we pop up now, it will look kind of suspicious, don’t you think?” He grinned. Lucki thought about that. He was right.

  “Lucki. I want to talk about that kiss.”

  Feeling her eyes widen, Lucki leaned forward. “Not here, Sam. This isn’t the time.” She narrowed her gaze then to make her point.

  “When, then? I didn’t see you all day yesterday.”

  “Shush. .lower your voice.”

  “All right.” Sam glanced up. The third verse continued.

  “I want to kiss you again like that, Lucki.”

  Terror worked it’s way up through her. No, she couldn’t let that happen. “Sam, listen about that kiss. . ”

  Before she realized what was happening, Sam reached over and grasped her behind the neck and pulled her closer. His lips captured hers in a lip-lock meant to claim her very soul. Soft, so soft his lips. Then hard, hard and wanting. And Lucki, throwing all caution, all reasoning, all thoughts of turning tail and running to the wind, threw her arms around him and kissed him solidly back. She groaned. Pushed closer. He closed his arms more firmly around her and held on while they kissed, and kissed, and kissed. Suddenly, it seemed the world turned deathly silent.

  Lucki pulled away.

  Glanced around.

  The choir had sat.

  The congregation had stilled.

  And all one-hundred-thirty-two members of the First United Methodist Church of Freedom, Tennessee sat and watched Sam Kirk kiss Lucki Stevenson like there was no tomorrow. And like a cherry on top, center front, standing with hands on hips, glaring at the couple like she could order them drawn and quartered right there on the spot, stood Missy Hawkins. At that point, Lucki knew she had to do something.

  Anything.

  She had to show who was in control here. Who had
the upper hand. Who Sam Kirk real y wanted. Damned if she knew why she was going to give into this silly jealousy thing, but she had to do it. She stared long and hard at Missy.

  Then without further adieu, she turned to Sam, placed each of her hands firmly on either side of his face, drew him closer, and kissed him again. With everything she possessed. The collective gasp throughout the congregation would ring in her ears for days to come.

  Chapter Eight

  The scene in the vestibule wasn’t much better than the one in the choir loft, Lucki decided. She wasn’t entirely sure which she liked better. The look on Missy’s face when Lucki finally let loose of Sam? Or the look on Sam’s face when she finally released the lip-lock she’d had on him?

  Or, perhaps, it was the helpless look on Reverend Halcomb’s face in the vestibule when Missy flew into a crying jag to beat no other and threw herself into his arms. He looked briefly to Lucki for help, then tsktsked and cooed to Missy while stroking her bleached blonde hair and ushering her into his private chambers.

  Lucki had a sneaking suspicion that Reverend Halcomb might have bitten off more than he could chew, but she dismissed it, realizing she had bigger fish to fry than being concerned about the likes of Missy Hawkins.

  She turned and took one look at Sam, quickly perused the gathering crowd, and split like a quivering leaf in a thunderstorm.

  There was no use hanging around any further.

  By noon, it would be all over Buddy’s and after that, all over Freedom. And by tomorrow morning, it would be all the way to Peabody.

  Damn. This thing only got deeper and deeper.

  “Lucki. Wait.”

  She didn’t stop at Sam’s words, but kept heading toward her truck.

  “Lucki!”

  Her hand was on the doorknob.

  His hand was on her elbow. “Lucki, stop. We have to talk about this.”

  Whirling, Lucki pinned Sam with her gaze. “Sam, there is nothing to talk about here.” She pasted a huge, fake smile on her face. “Wasn’t that great? I know it was a bit dramatic, but now you don’t have to worry about Missy anymore, do you?”

  Where that came from, she had no clue. But maybe it would be her saving grace. Sam harrumphed. “So what are you saying here, Lucki? That you kissed me like that so Missy would get the wrong idea and leave me alone?” He shook his head and grinned. “I don’t think so.”