Finding Sarah
Page 30
In response, he simply scooped her up and covered the rest of the distance to his pickup. "If I hurry now, maybe I'll be able to take it slow when it counts. Damn, woman, I've missed you."
"Me, or the sex?" she said.
He paused, as if he wasn't sure. "You," he said at last. "You, you, you."
"Oh, so you don't want the sex?"
He unlocked the doors to his truck and worked the passenger door open, then lowered her onto the seat. "You're going out of your way to torment me, aren't you?"
She ran her tongue across her lips. "Maybe."
"No maybes about it." He wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in her hair. She reached around him, his wool sweater rough against her cheek.
"I missed you, too." She raised her face and parted her lips. "Welcome home."
He leaned into the cab, meeting her mouth with his own. He cradled her face in his hands and she surrendered to the warmth of his kiss. She ran her fingers through his hair, sending tingles all the way to her toes. Tongues teased and danced with promises of more to come. He tasted of apples and cinnamon, of coffee and Randy. A vague impression of couples passing, of headlights coming and going, of car doors opening and closing hovered at the edge of her consciousness. A whistled catcall broke through the final barrier.
"Guess we should go," she said. "I've got a few surprises for you at my apartment."
"My place is closer," he murmured between kisses.
When his cell phone rang, he swore.
"Duty calling?" Sarah said, trying to keep too much annoyance from her tone. "Now?" After a six-week separation? How could they? How could he leave her?
"I'm off duty, dammit. I'm not here. I'm out of town until tomorrow. Noon at the earliest," he growled as he released her and fumbled for the phone at his belt. He studied the display. "Shit."
She smoothed her hair and reached behind her for the seatbelt. "Guess we won't be going to your place or mine."
"Let me check. Maybe it's a false alarm." He got behind the wheel and punched buttons on his cell. "Detweiler."
His jaw dropped. Sarah watched as a cop replaced her lover.
"Should I call a cab?" she asked.
"No way. I'll drop you at your place. But that was the chief. I've got to go."
After a hurried goodbye, Sarah trudged up the stairs to her apartment, thoughts milling through her head. Struggling to keep her shop afloat after her husband David's untimely death. Finding out someone she'd thought was a friend had been sabotaging her business. Meeting Randy. Falling in love again.
Tonight wasn't their first instance of dateus interruptus. Six weeks apart had blurred the memory of how much time his job demanded. She and David had worked side by side, their jobs and their lives inextricably entwined. With Randy, it would be different.
She loaded her CD player with Simon and Garfunkel, then changed her mind. Justin Timberlake? Alanis Morrissette? Melissa Etheridge? What the heck. She put all three into the machine, hit "shuffle" and settled into her nightly routine.
She leafed through her mail, separating the junk from the bills. Her answering machine had two hangups, one recorded sales pitch and a reminder from Saint Michael's that they'd canceled the pottery class she taught Tuesday night because they would be stripping the floors in the rec room. Could she come Monday instead and help with a children's dance recital?
She returned the call and marked it on her calendar. The seniors loved it when kids came in and performed, no matter how amateur the production.
After recording her daily sales data into her computer, she smiled. Business was definitely on the rise. And Hugh Garrigue's new pottery collection would kick autumn sales up another notch. In years past, he'd given her shop half a dozen pieces once or twice a year. Now Hugh allowed his wares in one or two shops at a time. She'd scored a coup when he'd agreed to a three-month exclusive for That Special Something.
How best to display it? She closed her eyes and did a mental walk-through of her shop, with its out-of-the ordinary fittings. The spiral staircase? Or the library table? Maybe the roll-top desk or the Welsh dresser. Or should she clear the center of the room and set everything on the picnic table she and David had refinished as their first real display table?
She decided she'd wait for the shipment to arrive tomorrow. Her assistant, Jennifer, would be in and she always had good ideas.
Sarah turned off her computer and the CD player and called it a night. She yawned. After Randy's message yesterday, she hadn't slept well, thoughts of their reunion keeping her brain charged. And a few other parts.
In her bedroom, Sarah sighed as she folded her new silk nightgown and put it back in the drawer. She pulled on her cotton nightshirt and shuffled into her bathroom. As she brushed her teeth, she glared at her reflection in the mirror.
You should have gone along with Randy's suggestion, idiot. Dessert first, then takeout. He still would have gotten the call, but you wouldn't be so—frustrated. Oh, say it. You're horny.
She checked her alarm and crawled into bed. Tomorrow, they'd start where they'd left off tonight and if they never got to dinner—well, they'd have a big breakfast.
She'd drifted off when the phone rang. Her pulse raced as she fumbled for the receiver. Was Randy finished with his case already? Before she could answer, Maggie, her neighbor from across the hall, spoke breathlessly.
"Sarah, go turn on the Channel Six news. I saw Randy. I'm coming right over."
About the Author
Terry Odell began writing by mistake, when her son mentioned a television show and she thought she’d be a good mom and watch it so they’d have common ground for discussions.
Little did she know she would enter the world of writing, first via fanfiction, then through Internet groups, and finally with groups with real, live partners. Her first publications were short stories, but she found more freedom in longer works and began what she thought was a mystery. Her daughters told her it was a romance so she began learning more about the genre and craft. She belongs to both the Romance Writers of America and Mystery Writers of America.
Now a multi-published, award winning author, Terry resides with her husband in the mountains of Colorado. You can find her online at:
Her website - http://terryodell.com
Her blog - http://terryodell.com/terrysplace
Facebook -http://www.facebook.com/AuthorTerryOdell
Twitter - http://twitter.com/authorterryo
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Other Kindle Books by Terry Odell
Finding Sarah (Pine Hills Police 1)
Hidden Fire (Pine Hills Police 2)
Saving Scott (Pine Hills Police 3)
Nowhere to Hide (A Pine Hills Police spinoff)
Finding Fire (Pine Hills Police—short story anthology)
When Danger Calls (Blackthorne, Inc. 1)
Where Danger Hides (Blackthorne, Inc. 2)
Rooted in Danger (Blackthorne, Inc. 3)
Danger in Deer Ridge (Blackthorne, Inc. 4)
Dangerous Connections (Blackthorne, Inc. 5)
What's in a Name?
Deadly Secrets: A Mapleton Mystery, #1
Deadly Bones: A Mapleton Mystery #2
Table of Contents
To my readers. This book was first published in 2006 by what was then Cerridwen Press, and was writte...
For Dan, who thought it was "cute" when I started writing.Chapter One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
&nbs
p; Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
A Note From the Author
Acknowledgments
Bonus Content
About the Author
Other Kindle Books by Terry OdellFinding Sarah (Pine Hills Police 1)Hidden Fire