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

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La Fleur de Love: The Series: Books 1 - 4 Page 31

by Leger, Lori


  She stared out the window, hungry for the first sight of Sam as he waited at the designated pick up area. He looked just as good as she remembered, leaning casually against his truck with his arms crossed against his chest. Carrie shifted her gaze to the pages of her book as he settled into the passenger seat, directly in front of her.

  “Good morning everybody!” His voice was an exuberant boom in the truck’s previously quiet interior.

  She mumbled a return greeting, hoping he wouldn’t address her directly.

  “How was everyone’s Christmas? Mine was great.”

  “Ours was fair, but not long enough,” Craig replied.

  “No kiddin’,” Cory agreed. “I could have used another couple of days off. What’d you do for New Years, Langley? Did you go out?”

  She lifted her gaze as Sam gave them an exuberant nod.

  “Yeah, I did, as a matter of fact. My daughter and son-in-law dragged me to the local Knights of Columbus New Year’s Eve party. I have to admit I had a nice time.”

  “Oh, yeah? Did you cut a rug with the ladies, Big Boy?” Craig’s shoulders moved as he mimicked dance moves.

  Carrie waited for his answer, certain the thud of her heart could be heard by everyone in the double cab truck. She stared at the back of Sam’s head as he nodded and cleared his throat.

  “I danced with a couple.”

  Craig looked away from the roadway long enough to beam at his boss. “Yeah? Big Boy’s still got it, huh?”

  Sam nodded and gave a quiet grunt, then looked out the side window.

  “What about you, Carrie?” Craig asked loudly. “Did you happen to be at the same party?”

  “Nope.” Dear God, let him drop it. He didn’t.

  “No? What’d you do, then?”

  “My sister and I watched Dick Clark at her place.” She turned to stare out the rear window. “That’s it.” His casual talk of attending a dance left her with equally humiliating feelings of hurt and betrayal. She couldn’t blame him for moving on, but did he have to do it so quickly? She turned back to her novel, determined not to let it bother her.

  Remarkably, she survived that first day around him without exchanging one word with Sam. Then another, as his survey crew hit the road early in the morning and didn’t return until fifteen minutes before it was time to leave. Her luck ran out on day three.

  She turned from pouring herself a mug of coffee to find him leaning casually against the kitchen’s doorway. Slightly surprised, she faltered and paid for it by sloshing coffee onto the floor. She stared into blue eyes filled with anything but humor.

  “You look tired, Carrie.”

  “I’m fine.” She set her mug on the table, pulled two sheets from the paper towel dispenser, hoping he’d use that opportunity to leave. No such luck. She dropped the towels on the floor and bent over to wipe up the liquid. Maybe if she ignored him long enough, he’d leave. She deposited the towels in the trash and rinsed her hands. She turned to find he hadn’t moved.

  “Uh huh,” he said. “I’m still here.”

  She lifted her mug from the counter, used a dampened towel to wipe the coffee ring. She walked to the door and stopped for a moment, staring straight ahead, refusing to meet the gaze he had pinned to her.

  “I need to get by,” she said.

  “Looks like that’s about all you’re doing, is barely getting by.”

  She closed her eyes and turned her head away from him. Sensing a shift in the air, she glanced forward to find he’d walked away from her. He had to be angry, and disappointed in her decision to end their relationship.

  Carrie set her coffee on her desk then picked up a photo. A trio of hinged school photos of her kids—each one posed before a different fall background. Using her cuff, she wiped a fine layer of dust from the glass and placed the frame back in its place. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was easy for him, but who could she be angry with? She loved her kids and they had a right to be happy, too. Her phone rang and she reached over to pick it up.

  “B & L Engineering. Carrie speaking.”

  “Is this the only way I can get you to speak to me?”

  She looked toward Sam’s office, but couldn’t see him seated at his desk. Jeff had called in sick, so he had the room to himself.

  “I’m worried about you, Carrie.”

  “Don’t be.” She bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying. She wouldn’t be able to take it if he turned all sweet and understanding on her. She needn’t have worried.

  “All right, then,” he said, then hung up. She set the phone softly in its cradle and stared at it. Was he trying to make her miserable? She was barely hanging on as it was.

  Her head fell forward, cradled in one hand as she covered a yawn with her other. What she needed was a good night’s sleep, minus the nightmares that plagued her. Every night she closed her eyes, praying she wouldn’t see Tim Hardin looming over her, reaching out to touch her as she slept. Every night she woke up terrified, and twisting away from his grasp. Christie insisted she may need to see someone, a doctor who could prescribe something to get her through her rough patch. Had they invented a pill that could take the place of having Sam in her life?

  Three torturous days at the office melded into four then five, as she was forced to watch Sam carry on as if nothing had happened between them. Did he have to act so freaking well-adjusted? She’d catch herself wanting to scream at him, and then remember that he had every right to move on. They spoke only of matters pertaining to work, and she made it a point never to be alone with him in the same room. They were back to acting as they had her first weeks on the job.

  Every day, Carrie dissolved into tears as soon as she was alone in her car. Every day, she walked into Christie’s, eyes puffy and red-rimmed from crying. Every day, she told Christie she didn’t want to talk about it.

  By the end of the week, she decided to look for another job. Jennings was only a thirty-minute drive from Gardiner, and it was a good-size city. She scoured the paper every afternoon, searched the internet, made calls, and asked around. Problem was, no company in Jennings had openings for anyone with a degree in drafting technology. She’d have to concentrate on something in Lake Coburn or Lafayette if she was going to stay in her field. There again, hanging over her like a twenty-pound weight swinging by a thread, was the same problem of high mileage and low starting salary. Frustrated, depressed, and running out of time, it was all she could do to keep her head up.

  Thankfully, Len had agreed to let her keep everything in the rental in Kenton until January fifteenth, when she could move into the place in Gardiner. That was just a few days away.

  Sam stepped out of Craig’s truck on Friday afternoon, dreading the weekend. He waved his co-workers off, noticing that Carrie didn’t look up from the book she was pretending to read. He knew that, because he sneaked a peek at it every chance he got and her marker stayed in the same spot. She looked exhausted, and he doubted she was getting much sleep. She barely ate anything at the office, and drank coffee all day to keep from falling asleep at her desk. Roxie and J.C. said she’d been too quiet, and wasn’t talking about anything. Worry for her ate at him.

  He’d attempted to speak with her one day, but her pitiful effort at holding it together had nearly done him in. So he tried to act as if he was okay with her decision, when he was far from it. He’d take seeing her every day at work, even if they weren’t together, over not seeing her at all. But weekends sucked. Big time.

  By six p.m., he’d been sitting in his recliner for two hours already. Sam powered off the television and dropped the remote on the couch. He went to the sink, poured himself a glass of water, but didn’t drink it. Picked up the weekly newspaper but didn’t read it. He paced the living room floor, pausing occasionally to check for lights at Carrie’s place. He’d spoken to Len already, and knew she’d asked to hang on to it until the fifteenth. That was three days away, and he figured if she was going to move out, she’d have to do it by this weekend. H
e’d hoped to get her alone before then and try to talk some sense into her, but the more he thought about it, the less likely that seemed. When she did show, she’d probably be surrounded by family and friends. He’d play hell to get her alone for one second, much less in enough time to get her to reconsider.

  “Son of a bitch.” He reached for the phone, punched a number into the keypad, a number he’d looked at so many times over the week, he had the damn thing memorized. He heard it ring and took a deep breath, waiting to hear a familiar voice.

  “Ha-wo.”

  Sam grinned, despite his foul mood. “Hello Max.”

  “Mommy wanth to know who thith ith.”

  “It’s Sam, Max. Remember me?”

  “Yeth. Aunt Cawee-th Tham.”

  “That’s right. Can I talk to her please?”

  “She’th not he-ah. Mommy can’t find her.”

  It took a moment for Sam to process the child’s statement, but when he did, the breath left his lungs in a rush. “Max, let me talk to your mama.”

  “Okay.”

  Sam heard the phone hit the floor, prayed the child had gone off to get his mother. A prolonged wait had him ready to hang up and drive over there. Christie answered, sounding breathless.

  “Hello, Sam?”

  “Yeah, what’s going on, Christie?”

  “Please tell me she’s with you.”

  “No. No, damn it, she’s not.”

  “You were my last hope. I don’t know where the hell she could be. I called all her friends in Lake Erin, and even Dave’s family. I thought maybe she’d be visiting with Ruby.”

  “Who?”

  “Dave’s mom, Ms. Ruby; she and Carrie are very close.”

  “Okay, yeah, I remember now. Well, if you hear from her tell her to call me, and if she doesn’t want to talk to me you call.”

  “I will, Sam, as soon as I finish chewing her out for making me worry.”

  Sam paced his empty house for five minutes before pulling on his boots, and grabbing his coat and keys on the way out. His truck’s engine barely had time to turn over before he threw it into reverse and pulled onto the rain-dampened street. He shifted into drive, skidding on the wet street until the tires bit, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  He knocked on Christie’s door, grumbling and cursing under his breath. Her car’s absence and the dark house told him she wasn’t home. “Dumbass!” he said, thinking back to how he’d told Craig that very day he had no use for a cell phone. Damn if he wouldn’t give his left nut for one right now.

  Within seconds, he was in his truck and headed for Elaine’s place. He made it in less than five minutes and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her car in the drive. He knocked on the door, and waited, praying all this worrying was for nothing. He knocked again, and peeked through the window. No sign of life, no television, just the one light on over her kitchen sink.

  “Aw come on!” He took a step back and let his head drop back against his shoulders, wondering what else he could do, when he heard someone call his name. He left the porch and searched the darkness. “Hello?”

  “Is that you, Sam?” Mack called out from next door.

  “Yeah! What’s going on, Mack? I’m looking for Carrie.”

  “She ran off the road and they brought her to the Jennings hospital to get checked out. Sharon drove Mom to meet her. I think Christie’s there too.”

  “How bad?” Sam’s gut clenched at the thought of losing her.

  “I don’t know, man. She fell asleep at the wheel.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Apparently, she hasn’t been sleeping much.”

  Sam nodded while backing away. “Thanks, Mack. If anyone asks, I’m headed to the Jennings hospital.”

  He’d missed her by fifteen minutes. Relieved, but no less frustrated as hell, Sam walked to his truck then stood there, debating whether to go home or head back to Christie’s place. Consideration for Carrie’s injuries, even though the nurse had assured him they were minor, convinced him to head back towards Kenton. He drove by Carrie’s, hoping to see some sign of life, but got only darkened windows.

  Sam walked inside and collapsed in his recliner, too drained to kick off his boots. He grabbed the phone and sat there, praying it would ring. Mack would tell her he’d gone by to look for her. Surely, she’d call him.

  Sam sat there, wishing for some relief from the ache in his chest, and feeling about as useless as a bikini at the North Pole.

  Sam’s ringing telephone woke him from a fitful sleep, jarring him so badly it fell from his lap to the floor with a loud clatter. He sat up, blinking, and wiped the drool from his face. He reached for the phone while squinting at the wall clock. Nine-thirty—how the hell had he managed to sleep for an hour? He finally caught the phone and hit the talk button. “Hello?”

  “I’d about given up on you answering. I figured you’d gone to bed already.”

  He sat up straight as Carrie’s voice washed over him like a soothing balm. “Are you all right, Carrie?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve got a bump on my head. My car slipped in the ditch, but that’s it. I was embarrassed to go to the hospital, but Mom insisted.”

  “It was the right thing to do.”

  “I guess.” She paused, giving him the sense she was choosing her words carefully. “Christie said you called, and Mack told me you drove all the way to Mom’s.”

  “Yeah, I-I wanted to talk to you.”

  “About what?”

  No matter how minor her injuries, she was probably sore and achy. He wouldn’t push her into an argument tonight. “Aw, it was nothing, just wanted to check up on you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Well, if you’re that worried, you could come on over here and check me out for yourself,” she drawled.

  He took a deep breath, released it slowly, teetering on the brink of annoyance. “You want me to drive back to Gardiner tonight to see if you’re okay?”

  “I didn’t say anything about driving.”

  His spine stiffened. “Where are you, Carrie?”

  She chuckled seductively into the phone. “I’m here in my house, Sam. Are you coming over, or what?”

  He leaned over to pull the curtain aside and saw a soft glow coming from her house on the corner. “Are you packing up?”

  Carrie lit another candle and placed it on the end table. “Nah, decided I’d stay for a while.”

  “Oh, yeah? What brought that on?”

  “It seems Maw Maw Elaine had a pow wow with my kids at the hospital.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’d she say to them?”

  “Don’t know, exactly. No one’s talking. All I heard was that she wasn’t too happy with them.”

  “I bet she wasn’t.”

  “Whatever she said, it worked. Grant and the twins walked into my hospital room and admitted they over reacted to the whole move situation. Grant still wants to graduate from Gardiner, and the girls asked to stay with Dave until they could finish out the school year. I agreed. But, it sounds as if they’re willing to give Kenton a chance, as well as you.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  “I knew I liked your Mom.”

  Carrie grinned at his comment. “Yeah, I guess I’ll keep her.”

  “And I like you.”

  “I kind of like you too.”

  “I hear you’ve been having some issues with nightmares keeping you from sleeping at night.”

  One glance at her bedroom, also glowing with candlelight, had her heart pounding. “At Christie’s, I dream that Tim Hardin is standing over me while I sleep. I decided to come here to face my fears. I’ve worked too hard to let a ghost keep me from being independent.”

  “I agree. Is there any way I could help you out with that?”

  She smoothed down her red and black silk blouse, and half-turned, causing the black skirt to twirl gracefully and settle against her legs. “You mean by keeping
me company? Talking me through my first night back here?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of being there to hold you during the night if you have another nightmare, or better yet, keeping you from having one at all.”

  “And how do you propose to do that?”

  “Oh, I can think of several ways.”

  She heard a knock on the door and walked over to answer it. She tensed, momentarily forgetting that Tim Hardin was no longer a threat.

  “Hey, Carrie?” Sam’s tone was low and seductive.

  “Yeah?” She reached for the switch and flipped on the porch light.

  “Open the damn door.”

  Carrie opened the blind, and her breath caught at the more than welcome sight of him standing there with his cordless phone to his ear. She dropped her hand to her side and pulled open the door. “Hey.”

  He hit the end call button and lifted the cordless phone. “I’m as surprised as you are that I had a signal all the way over here.” He stepped slowly across the threshold to meet her. Closing the door behind him, he took one deliberate step closer. “Look, lady. We’re gonna get something straight here and now.”

  She nodded, keeping her silence.

  “Don’t ask me to stay unless you want more than friendship from me. I mean it. I can’t take anymore goodbyes.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t.”

  Sam’s brow rose warily. “You won’t what?”

  “I mean, I want you to stay.”

  He nodded, and took a step closer. “How long have you been here?”

  Carrie looked at her watch. “About forty-five minutes.”

  Sam shook his head slowly, clucking his tongue. “You should have called me sooner, Baby. Think of all the time we wasted.”

  “A girl needs time to fix herself up when she’s about to plead her case to the man she loves.

  “Yeah? Did I just hear you say you loved me?”

  She nodded. “You did.”

  “You do, huh?”

  She nodded again. “I do, Sam. The thought of not having you in my life made me realize how much.”

 

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