La Fleur de Love: The Series: Books 1 - 4

by Leger, Lori

  I’ve noticed. She released a low burst of nervous laughter. “Like I told Christie last night, my biggest concern is losing my children’s respect.”

  “You discussed me with your sister?”

  Carrie squeezed her eyes shut. “I may have mentioned you, in passing.” She glanced his direction, scowling at his smug expression, before escaping with her food to sit at her desk. Thankfully, Sam remained in the kitchen to finish his meal.

  After a while, the sound of running water and the clatter of dishes in the sink caught her attention. Several minutes later, he walked past her desk at a leisurely pace.

  “Give my compliments to the chef.” His voice dipped to a low, sexy rumble that made Carrie wish she’d been the chef.

  She spoke quietly, keeping her eyes lowered. “I will, and thanks for washing the pots.”

  “Yes, ma’am. My daughter has this magnet on her fridge that says ‘Love a man with dishpan hands.’ See?” He raised both hands.

  Carrie glanced up, wondering what else those hands could do besides wash dishes.

  “I’m going into my office now, Carrie. You can study to your heart’s content.” He grinned before disappearing into his office.

  She observed silently, as he pulled files from a cabinet in his office. At last, he settled into his squeaky desk chair, just out of her visual range.

  Carrie tried to concentrate on her study manual. Instead, she envisioned a broad chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sight of Sam and his healthy display of golden chest hair, something she’d always admired in men. Even though she knew one had nothing to do with the other, she’d always equated Dave’s bare chest to his immature actions, and the Peter-Pan-Persona he seemed to glorify. What would it be like to be with a man with the physical traits she’d always associated with a mature man? She wasn’t talking Grizzly Adams, but someone who could grow a beard that didn’t make him look like he had a serious case of mange. A man willing to stay home where he belonged, one who knew how to keep a job and dedicate his life to his family?

  A man like Sam?

  She sighed and stared out the window as the rain increased to a deafening roar. It’s going to be a long day.

  Sam sat at his desk and gloated. She told her sister about me. He understood her uneasiness with the timing, but he had to wonder how many chances he had left in this life. He tried to concentrate on anything other than the woman in the next room, but finally got up and walked to the door of his office.

  “Hey.” He spoke loud enough for her to hear him over the din of rain beating down on the building’s metal awning. “I always take two weeks off between Christmas and New Year’s.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  He nodded. Was that a hint of disappointment he heard in her voice? God, I hope so. “Would you want to catch a movie or dinner sometime in the next couple of weeks?”

  She looked him squarely in the eyes. “With you?”

  Sam blinked once. “Well, yeah, that’s the general idea.”

  Carrie blushed and gave him a halfhearted laugh. “Sorry, I’m not handling this very well. The truth is I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

  “It’s okay.”

  She must have sensed his disappointment, because she rushed to explain. “My daughter is still in counseling over the divorce. I don’t want to rush into anything.”

  “Oh, I see. I thought maybe I could call you during our time off to see if you’re okay, or just to talk, if that’s okay with you?” He thought his heart would explode in the time it took her to finally answer with a smile.

  “I think that would be a good way to learn more about each other.”

  “And, if something happens, and you’re able to move into your rent house a little early, I’d be available to help you out with that.” He raised his hands, to defend his suggestion. “Just as a friend, of course.”

  “You’d do that?”

  He gave her a quick nod. “We do things like that for each other around here.” He pulled a business card from his wallet and met her at her desk. “I wrote my home number on the back.” As she reached for it, he pulled it back. “You’re not going to tear it up are you?”

  He watched Carrie smile and held it in one hand as she scribbled something on a note pad. She tore the page from the pad and slipped it into his shirt pocket before returning to her studies.

  Sam waited until he sat at his own desk before reaching for the paper. Not only had she given him Christie’s number, but her mom’s phone number as well.

  He tucked the paper into his wallet. “Yesirree, that’ll do.”

  Sam glanced up from the stack of field books on his desk as J.C. entered his office. “Did you get wet out there?”

  “Yeah, but that shrimp platter was worth it.” He leaned over and added in a whisper. “We stayed away as long as we could to give y’all some time to talk.”

  “I asked her out, but I’ll have to settle for a phone call instead, not that I’m complaining.”

  “You never know, Sam. Baby Jesus might send you something—or somebody—special for Christmas this year.”

  Sam’s chuckle filled the room. “De ta joule a le orrais du le Bon Dieu.”

  J.C. sent him a blank stare. “I didn’t get any of that.”

  “From your mouth to the good Lord’s ears,” Sam translated.

  By 3:30 that afternoon, everyone had cleared out of the office except for Carrie and Sam. She gathered her things as he approached. “Thanks again for the socks. I’ll get them back to you after the holidays.”

  He ducked his head sheepishly. “I’ll let you keep `em if I can call you tonight.”

  She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Tube socks as a bribe. That’s original.”

  “You want boiled crawfish instead?”

  “Not in season.”

  “Chocolate? I know you like your chocolate.”

  Carrie looped her purse strap over her shoulder and laughed at his offer. “I don’t accept bribes, but you can call me anyway. My kids will be gone for the next two nights.”

  Sam’s face twisted as though he were in pain. “Mine, too. That house of mine feels too empty without my son around. Holidays kind of suck.”

  “I know, but what am I going to do? Dave’s family is coming in tonight. Mine won’t be in until Christmas Day. My kids need to see their cousins. What do you do, Sam? Where do you go when Nick’s not around?”

  “My folks live one street over and I usually end up there for a visit and a meal. Pop keeps a running tab on things they need help with around the house. They’re both closing in on eighty years old,” he explained. “Anything beats being alone.”

  She scraped her teeth on her lower lip at his comment. “I used to think that; then I learned better.”

  “So, you’ll be alone?”

  “Yeah, Christie and Max, my nephew, are spending the night at her ex-mother-in-law’s place.”

  Sam inched closer. “Is eight o’clock a good time to call?”

  Carrie’s curiosity ran wild as she breathed him in. Her lids drooped as her thoughts wandered. What would it feel like to have him wrap her in his arms? The deep timbre of his voice broke into her reflections.

  “Eight?” he repeated.

  She blinked then lifted her lids in one languid motion. “Eight is good.”

  They stood awkwardly, both needing to leave, neither wanting to walk out first.

  Sam cleared his throat. “Well, I guess this is it, then. Merry Christmas, Carrie.”

  “Merry Christmas to you too, Sam—and I hope you have a wonderful New Year.” No Sam until after New Year’s.

  “It will be if you’re a part of it.”

  Her heart pounded. “What did you say?”

  Sam took a step closer and rested his hands upon her upper arms. “At some point, I’d like you to become a major part of my life in the next year. Do you see that happening?”

  Carrie struggled to answer. “Possibly,” she squeaked, in a voice hoars
e and full of nervous energy.

  Sam leaned over slowly and kissed her on the cheek, lingering beside her long after the kiss was over.

  Just as he began to pull away, Carrie turned toward him until her cheek made a gentle, but electrifying contact with his. She lowered her lids and lifted her chin, strengthening the skin-to-skin connection. She heard the low moan, realizing too late that it came from her own parted lips. Powerless to move, she felt him pull away before caressing her face in his large hands.

  “Open your eyes, Carrie,” he whispered.

  Her lids opened heavily as she focused on his lips, mere inches away, and lifted her hands to cover his.

  “I’ll apologize for this later, but I want you to remember me over the next two weeks.” He lowered his mouth gently onto hers.

  The first kiss was to taste, light and teasing, a little unsure. Carrie felt him draw away but she stayed put, hoping he’d get the message.

  I want more.

  He got it. The second kiss was firmer, more confident, from a self-assured man who knew what he wanted. By the time he pulled away, Carrie could barely stand on her own two legs. She leaned into him for support, her hands spread out against his broad chest until she regained her balance.

  “I’m sorry, but I had to know.” He kissed her lightly again. “How you tasted. I’ve wanted to do that ever since the first time I made you laugh,” he admitted. “If that’s all it takes to keep you happy, I might have a shot.”

  She gazed up at him, slightly dazed. Her head tilted forward, then back in a distracted nod.

  Sam grinned. “So, all I have to do is be my charming, funny self to earn your undying love?”

  She repeated the nod once more before straightening, coming to her senses. “No.”

  He laughed. “I thought I was getting off too easy.” He reached out and ran his forefinger gently along her jaw line. “Focus now, Carrie. What else?”

  It was difficult to breathe, to concentrate, with him so near and touching her that way.

  He brushed a stray lock hair from her face. “What else would it take to make you mine?”

  Carrie shivered at his touch and covered his hand with her own. She attempted to clear her throat, as well as her head. “I can’t take being hurt again.”

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Just words—how do I know I can trust you?”

  “I’m nothing like your ex.”

  “How do I know that?”

  “Because I’m telling you I’m not,” he insisted. “But feel free to ask anyone.”

  She studied him, watching for signs of discomfort, fear of revealed secrets, but she saw nothing.

  “Lots of people thought Dave was a ‘good ole’ boy’. They didn’t know what he was doing behind my back.”

  Sam lifted both hands, as though his patience was at an end. “Okay, then. You tell me what you want in a man.”

  “I don’t know what I want in a man,” she said. “But thanks to Dave, I damn sure know what I don’t want.”

  “Then tell me. What don’t you want in a man?”

  She took two steps toward the door then turned back toward him. “I don’t want a man I can’t trust, or one who’ll push me or my kids around. I don’t want someone I’m afraid to relax around.” Her gaze locked on his. “I can’t live like that again.”

  She held her breath as he walked over to brush a kiss upon her lips.

  “In twenty-one years of marriage, I was never unfaithful, and I never laid a hand on her.” He pulled her closer for another light kiss. “I’ve been with the same company for twenty years, and I’ll retire from here. I’ve lived in the same house for the same amount of time. I’m steady as a slab of granite. I love kids, and I promise that neither you, nor your kids will ever have to be afraid of me.”

  Carrie sighed as Sam left a trail of gentle kisses along her jaw line.

  “I’m no stud. My hair is thinning, my midsection isn’t. I live a dull life and I don’t have a lot of money to spare.” He shifted and continued kissing the other side of her jaw. “If you’re looking for non-stop excitement and someone to buy you a lot of gifts, I’m not your man, but I’d find other ways to spoil you.”

  One side of his lip curled adorably alongside his dimple as she lifted one curious brow.

  “Ah, the lady wants to know how I’d spoil her,” he mused. “Okay. Let’s negotiate.”

  Sam rattled off a list she’d never again have to do for herself, from car maintenance to yard work, to bringing her coffee in bed and letting her have control of the remote. “I’ll buy your favorite perfume for your birthdays, and never give you silk bikinis rolled up like a rose for Valentine’s Day.”

  “It was nylon, not even silk.”

  “Then neither.” He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her even closer. “Besides,” he added, “J.C. says we look good together.”

  Carrie met his gaze, caressed by the warmth in his eyes. “He does?”

  “Yep.” He bent his head for another kiss.

  She placed both hands on his chest and gave him a gentle push. “Have you been talking to people about me?”

  “J.C. spoke up one day and told me I should ask you out because we make a good-looking pair,” he explained. “That’s all.”

  I’ve always wanted tall, dependable, and faithful. She thought how wonderful it would be to have a life without worry, without the constant existence of stress and strain she had as Dave’s wife. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to trust again? It would be so easy to say she wanted him in her life. But the time wasn’t quite right, yet. She stepped away and stared out at the compound’s water covered parking lot. “I need to go before the skies open up again.”

  “You be careful going home, Carrie.”

  She adjusted her shoulder strap as he pushed the door open for her. “You too, Sam.”

  Sam reached out and gently took hold of her arm to stop her before she walked through the door. “Listen, if you have to see your ex, make sure you’re never alone with him.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Don’t let him talk you into anything.”

  Carrie froze in her tracks as a low rumble of thunder echoed ominously in the distance. She gazed out at the gathering of black clouds and suddenly felt the dreariness of the rain-sodden surroundings creep into her soul. “What kind of anything are you talking about?”

  Sam closed his eyes and sighed. “Never mind.”

  Carrie turned slowly to face him. “Are you afraid I’ll fall into bed with him?”

  Sam’s tone turned defensive. “I only meant that he might try to talk you into taking him back. You said he could be persuasive.”

  Carrie tried to remain calm, told herself not to overreact. “Dave could persuade the old me to do a lot of stupid things, Sam. I’m stronger now. The new me can handle him.”

  “I sure as hell hope so. I just don’t want anything like that to happen before—”

  “Before what?”

  “Well, before you, before we …” Sam’s comment trailed off.

  “You mean before I’ve slept with you?” Carrie waited for him to correct her. Hoped—prayed she’d assumed wrong. Her heart sank when he remained silent. Unable to speak for the lump in her throat, she turned and ran out into the rain.

  Sam stood by, still in shock, as Carrie’s car started and then pulled out of the parking lot. How the hell had the best five minutes of his entire year turned FUBAR in a matter of seconds? Moving in a mechanical daze, he didn’t bother to put on his coat before trudging out to his truck. By the time he pulled his door closed he was soaked, cold to the bone, and disgusted with himself. His truck started with a roar, but he sat and stared out the window until his heater warmed the interior and defogged the windshield.

  “Dumbass,” he muttered, gazing at his reflection in the rearview. “You couldn’t let her walk out the door and trust her?” He knew Carrie wouldn’t do anything as stupid as to take Dave back. She’d worked too damn hard for
her independence. He shook his head, disappointed in his own insecurities.

  Never again would he let fears bred from his own marriage control his tongue. Starting now, he’d put everything behind him and be a better man for the woman he…what? Loved? Did he love her? He liked her courage, her determination to have a better life, to provide her children with a chance for a better future. He admired every intelligent, sensitive, stubborn inch of her, from her glossy curls to her dimples, to her hot pink and polished toes. He welcomed her ability to hold her own in an argument with him or anyone else, man or woman. Reveled that she didn’t back down from a challenge. But did he love her?

  The only thing he knew for sure was that he needed to apologize.

  Sam threw his truck in gear. He’d give her an hour and a half to get back to Gardiner before calling to tell her he was sorry. That should be easy enough

  Swish-swash … swish-swash … swish-swash … The hypnotic rhythm of the wipers did nothing to ease the tension in Carrie’s shoulders as she hugged the steering wheel to get a better view of the roadway. Even set at the highest speed, her wipers couldn’t keep up with the torrential rain.

  “Folks, if you can hear my voice, you’ll be seeing this super heavy precipitation for the rest of the afternoon and night. If you’re driving in Lake Coburn today, here are some areas for potential flash flooding …”

  She groaned at the weatherman’s words, thinking about the shopping she needed to do before driving to Christie’s place. Disappointed in the way she and Sam had ended their conversation, she drove on, feeling down and depressed.

  Two hours after leaving the office, she fell into the doorway of Christie’s kitchen door, kicked off her shoes, and hauled the three dripping bags of groceries to the sink to drain. She went to the bathroom and slipped out of her drenched clothes, placing them straight into the washer and starting the cycle. She pulled on a pair of dry jeans and a sweatshirt and pushed her feet into her fuzzy slippers. The shrill ring of the phone sliced through the metallic ping of raindrops hitting the aluminum-covered carport. She ran to answer it, determined that if it was Sam, she’d give him a chance to explain. She answered, fully expecting to hear the deep, sexy, bass of the voice she loved.