Before We Kiss

Page 33

He walked over to the wine bar, then moved to the edge of the room to watch what was going on. As he studied the growing crowd, he realized he knew most of them by name. Pia and Raoul. He’d met Heidi at the ranch a few weeks before. Heidi of the goats. The guy with her was her husband and his name was Rafe.
“Are you being antisocial?” Taryn asked as she walked over to him.
“Observing. There’s a difference.”
“Maybe on the inside, but on the outside, they look the same.” She linked arms with him and drew him toward the center of the room. “Angel is back so my world is restored,” she told him. “You see before you a happy woman.”
“I’m glad.”
“He won’t say what he was doing, which is a little annoying.”
“I’m sure you have ways of making him talk.”
“I do, as a matter of fact.” She smiled.
Mayor Marsha walked up to them. “How are you two?”
“Great,” Taryn said with a sigh. “Did you have something to do with Angel and Ford disappearing?”
Sam expected the older woman to be confused by the question. Instead she nodded.
“Yes, they were helping me. A young woman was in trouble and they went to make sure she was safe.”
Taryn’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Of course. Her name is Shelby and she was trapped at home with an abusive father. He’s been arrested and charged with multiple crimes. Shelby will be receiving some counseling to deal with the trauma of all she’s been through. Even worse, her mother is dying of cancer.”
“How do you know her?” Sam asked.
“I don’t. I know her brother. I suspect they’ll both be moving to town in the next few months.” She turned her attention to him. “I heard your business finance talk went over very well. Thank you so much for doing that. The business community needs strong leadership. I’m hoping you can fill that role.”
“I, ah...” Sam cleared his throat. The mayor continued to stare at him until he found himself saying, “Yes. Of course. Happy to.”
“Good.”
Taryn squeezed his arm. “So, how was your trip to New Zealand? Meet any handsome men?”
“At my age?” Mayor Marsha smiled. “Don’t be silly. Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to congratulate the happy couple.”
She walked away.
Taryn watched her go. “I think she has supernatural powers.”
“Not possible.”
“You’re about to be a leader in the business community, Sam. You’re more than capable, but you do your best to never get involved. So why did you say yes?”
He shrugged, not sure of the answer.
“See,” Taryn told him. “She used mind control.”
He got Taryn a glass of wine, then spoke to more people he now somehow knew. All the while, he watched Dellina manage the party. She smiled at him, but before he could join her, she was pulled into the kitchen. There was plenty of time, he reminded himself. He would find her by the end of the evening. Find her and take her home. He smiled. It was going to be a very good night.
* * *
“THERE YOU ARE.”
Dellina turned and saw Sam approaching. Her heart rate immediately increased and she felt herself smiling.
“I could say the same thing,” she told him. “You’ve been quite the social butterfly this evening.”
He grinned. “Hardly.”
“Every time I spotted you, you were chitchatting with someone else. Careful, Sam. People will think you’re a native.”
“I’m getting there.” He put his arm around her waist and drew her close. “I’ve missed you.”
Words to make her already in-love self sigh. “I know. This party has taken every second.”
“But you pulled it together in forty-eight hours. Impressive.”
His dark gaze was possessive, his hand firm on her back. He drew her into a corner and she didn’t resist. Not when she was pretty sure of the outcome.
Sure enough, as soon as they were in a relatively private space, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. She relaxed into his embrace and let her body melt against his.
She let herself get lost in the feel of his tongue against hers before reluctantly drawing back.
“I know,” he said before she could speak. “You’re still on duty.”
“Until the party is over.”
He kissed her lightly. “I’ll wait. Want to go back to my place?”
She put her hands on his chest. “Really?”
“Why are you surprised?”
“I’ve never been to your place.”
“You have.”
She shook her head. “Nope. I’ve never seen where you live.” Something she was sure was deliberate. Or had been at first.
“Then it’s past time.”
* * *
DELLINA FOUND HERSELF oddly nervous as Sam pulled into his driveway. He’d followed her to her place first. She’d dropped off her car and grabbed a few things so she could stay the night, then had gotten into his car. Now as he parked in front of the ranch-style home, she felt fluttering in her stomach and it had little to do with how good-looking he was.
It was close to nine and the sun had set over an hour ago. Lights spilled from most of the houses around them. The sound from TVs and kids playing could be heard. An ordinary neighborhood in an ordinary town, she thought, although she wasn’t totally convinced by her words.
She got out before Sam could open the door, but let him carry her small bag. He led the way up to the front door and opened it, then flipped on lights.
The house might have been built in the sixties, but it had been extensively remodeled. The whole middle section had been opened up. There was a kitchen to the far left and a huge great room large enough to support two sofas and nearly half a dozen chairs. Big windows would let in light during the day.
Sam flipped on a few lamps. She saw a fireplace with an old-fashioned brick hearth. The mid-century touch suited the room.
“Nice,” she said as she glanced around.
“Want to see the rest of the place?”
“Sure.”
They went into the eat-in kitchen. It was open, with plenty of counter space and lots of cupboards. There were plenty of gadgets, including a complex-looking espresso machine and massive stove with a built-in grill.
Beyond that was a formal dining room. There were two spare bedrooms with an adjoining bath at one end of the house. The master was probably at the other.
The colors were all muted guy-tones. Beige, sage, taupe. She assumed he’d employed a professional decorator. Minimal artwork covered the walls. It was mostly abstracts or landscapes. Chosen more for the decorative value than because he liked it, she would guess.
“Where are you?” she asked when they returned to the great room.
He raised his eyebrows. “Should I state the obvious and point out I’m right here?”
She smiled. “I meant, where are you in this house? It’s great and beautifully decorated. But it’s not you. The muted colors are very neutral. That’s you on the surface, but underneath, you have a lot of passion. Where are the bold touches? The whimsy only you would see.” She put her hands on her hips. “Wait a minute. You’re some famous football guy.”
He winced. “Famous football guy? Is that how you think of me?”
She laughed. “You know what I mean. You have to have stuff. Where is it?”
He didn’t answer right away. She wondered if he was going to try to deflect her. And if he did, should she let him? But then he took her hand in his and led her toward the other end of the house.
He dropped her bag outside a partially closed door, then motioned for her to lead the way. She pushed the door open as she entered and found herself in what she would guess was the heart of the house.
The room was huge. Probably the result of two bedrooms being combined. There were bookshelves all along one wall. But instead of books, the shelves were crowded with awards. Statues and plaques, glass swirls and silver bowls. There were dozens of them. Maybe hundreds.
Black leather chairs—big and comfortable looking—faced a huge flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The wall opposite the bookcases had been painted a dark crimson. Framed L.A. Stallions posters showed Sam, Jack and Kenny in action. Below was a built-in cabinet that went the length of the wall. Complicated-looking equipment gleamed. Remote controls sat in a basket. There was a refrigerator, a small microwave and wine cellar.
All the comforts of home, she thought, knowing this was where Sam allowed himself to relax.
She studied the posters of him, passing over the ones of his friends. There were three—two of him kicking and one of him right after the kick had scored. When his teammates had carried him on their shoulders.
“Which game?” she asked.
“Super Bowl.”
Right. Because Sam had kicked a field goal in the final seconds—winning the game for his team. A fact she had known but never really internalized.
“That must have been something.”
“We’d worked hard to get to that game. Everyone played well. I was fortunate to be able to add the final points.”
Which all sounded like an ESPN sound bite.
“It must have been a lot of pressure. Don’t a couple of billion people watch the game every year?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
She walked to him and grabbed him by his shirtfront. “Sam, come on. That was a huge moment. You won the Super Bowl. You didn’t throw to someone, or catch a ball someone else had thrown. You did it yourself. You and the goal and the ball. You did it.”
His mouth twitched at the corners. “There’s no I in team.”
“How many clichés do you have?”
“How much time you got?”
She dropped her hands to her sides. “Just tell me it was cool.”
“It was.” His mouth curved again and this time he smiled. “It was better than cool. It was like swallowing lightning.”
“Best night of your life?”
Some of his humor faded. “So far. I was hoping it would be overshadowed by having a kid, but until then, yes.”
“Don’t you get a ring?”
“We do. Want to see it?”
She nodded.
He walked over to the bookcase. As he approached it, she saw a center display. A ring sat in the middle of an acrylic or glass case. A huge ring with the L.A. Stallions logo and plenty of diamonds. Bold letters announced World Champions.
He opened a drawer underneath and pushed several buttons on a pad. There was a faint click as something unlocked, then he pulled out the ring and handed it to her.
She took it and studied the design. “I’ve never seen you wear it.”
“Look at it. This isn’t the kind of ring you wear every day.”
“I suppose it would get in the way.”
The ring was heavy and attention-grabbing. She slid it on her middle finger. It was impossibly huge.
“Still,” she said, handing it back to him. “Very cool. What a moment. You’ll always have that, no matter what. You have to be proud of that.”
He put the ring away. “I am proud. But what feels like the bigger feat is having a life after football. Not all the guys figure that out.”
She moved toward him. He opened his arms and drew her close. “You’re the kind of person who will always be successful,” she told him. “You would insist on it.”
“You’re giving me too much credit.”
She stared into his dark eyes and let her emotions flood her. Love, she thought. So much love. “Not possible,” she whispered, right before he kissed her.
His mouth settled on hers. Familiar wanting grew. She wanted to be with him tonight, she thought. For all the other nights to come. She wanted it all. But what about Sam? Could she convince him they were worth taking a chance on?
Questions for another time, she told herself, surrendering to the passion. She would come up with a plan. She would be brave, because they were worth it. But later. Tonight there was only the man and how they made each other feel.
* * *
SAM KNEW RIGHT away something was up. While he and Larissa got along, she didn’t generally hang out in his office. Plus, there was something worried in her eyes and she couldn’t stop smoothing her long ponytail.
“Just say it,” he told her, knowing if she expected his help with one of her weird-ass rescues, he was going to send her to Jack. No way he was getting involved with some three-legged tiger or Thanksgiving turkey breakout. Larissa was great and he liked her a lot. Her massages kept him functional. But when it came to seeing the world as one giant need, she was the queen and he wanted no part of that kingdom.
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Then let me help. No, you can’t put an ant farm in my living room, or a pig in my garden or whatever it is you want to do.”
That earned him a smile. “You’re so mean,” she told him.
“Not mean. Firm. Unlike Jack, who lets you walk all over him.”
“No. That’s not fair. Jack supports my causes.”
Because Jack liked Larissa. And because he had a guilt complex, Sam thought. He was forever trying to make up for something that wasn’t his fault. With Larissa as his front, he could convince the world he was giving back. The problem was he never felt it himself, so the guilt didn’t go away.
Sam frowned. He was way too insightful this morning. It wasn’t like him.
Sam returned his attention to the woman fidgeting in front of him. “I have a phone call in ten minutes.”