13. SAM
CHAPTER 1 3
SAM
Having extricated myself from Ginny’s clutches, I’m settling up at the bar when Gomer whines. Looking down, I see that Diane has sidled up next to me.
“Here to gloat?” I grumble.
“Well, I wasn’t going to, but now that you mention it…” She grins, and I swear my knees go wobbly at the sight.
I slap a handful of bills on the bar. “Geezers were on fire. Congrats.”
“Thanks.” She looks behind me briefly. “Hey, um, I don’t want to horn in on your date, but?—”
“Date? What date?”
“With your teammate?”
Following her gaze, I realize she’s talking about the woman now blowing me a kiss. “You mean Ginny?”
“If that’s the one who was whispering sweet nothing in your ear, then yeah.”
“First of all, she was whispering answers. That were mostly wrong. Second of all, that wasn’t a date.”
“Looked pretty cozy. ”
“Trust me, that’s just how she is. We went on one date in high school, and she was making wedding plans the next day.”
When Diane looks skeptical, I raise my hands in the air. “As I did then, I made it clear that I’m not the settling down type. Especially now, when my career has me traveling all over. I can barely take care of my dog.”
“Right,” she says, her lips flattening.
I just stare at her, waiting, and she actually seems to get flustered. Something I’m enjoying way too much. “Did you need something?”
She huffs out an irritated sigh and crosses her arms over her chest. “Colleen ditched me. I mean, she warned me she’d have to leave early because she has an early meeting at school tomorrow, but I didn’t want to leave when we were on a roll.”
“You didn’t want to miss winning, you mean.”
“Whatever. In any case, I figured I’d get an Uber, but?—”
“They don’t exist in Fork Lick.”
She glances at a table in the corner. “Apparently, the drunk guy over there drives a cab, but the Geezers said only to use him between nine and eleven a.m.”
“So you need a ride back to the house?”
She nods.
“So you can sleep in my bed?”
It’s her turn to put up a hand. “It’s not an invitation.”
“I meant it literally. You are sleeping in my old bed. Or maybe Jackson’s. Meanwhile, I’m couch surfing and being treated to the various and sundry sounds of my brothers having sex. ”
“I did not know that,” she says, backing away. “I’m so sorry. I’ll… I’ll find another place to stay.”
I just shake my head. “Gran would never forgive me. No worries. I’ve got earplugs on order at the Quick Lick.” Grabbing my change and leaving a tip, I gesture at the door. “Let’s go.”
The good thing about being in a small space with Diane: I’m no longer tired.
The bad thing about being in a small space with Diane: It brings back memories. Of that kiss in the elevator. That night at the hotel. That kiss up against the barn.
It seemed like she was into it all three times, but each encounter ended with her walking away. Am I that bad of a kisser? Or does she just hate me on principle?
“Are you coming in?” the woman in question asks.
A “woof” from Gomer brings me to the present, and I realize I drove all the way from the bar to our farmhouse on autopilot. Peering through the windshield, I’m relieved to find all the windows dark. “It looks like everyone’s gone to bed. So yeah, I’ll sneak in and sleep on the couch.”
Diane reaches across the cab to grab my forearm before I can exit the truck. “Why don’t you sneak Gomer in, let him sleep on the couch, and take the other twin bed in my—I mean your —room?”
I dip my chin and meet her gaze, unreadable in the dim light. “You sure?”
She releases my arm. “I’m not asking you to sleep with me. I’m just saying, we’re adults. You need a bed. There’s an extra one in my–I mean in your –” She breaks off, flapping her hand in the air. “In the room in which I am currently staying. ”
With that, she gives me a tight smile and climbs out of the truck.
So… she hates me, but she’s too nice to make me sleep on the couch.
Fine. I can deal with that. It’s for the best, really. Neither of us has roots anywhere. Not a good time to get involved. It may be frustrating to lie in bed mere feet from her without getting to touch her, but at least I won’t have to listen to other people have sex.
She knocks on the driver’s side window, startling me. “You coming or what?”
Letting Gomer out, I grab my backpack but don’t get far before Gomer blocks my path. His head lowered, he barks once.
“Oh, you’re right. Phone.” Reaching back into the cab, I grab it from the console and head for the house.
Diane trots to catch up with us. “What the heck was that?”
“What?”
“That little routine with the dog?”
“Oh.” I scratch my head, trying to decide whether I should admit how much I depend on my dog to get through the day. “Remember when we met?”
She smirks. “Hard to forget.”
Dousing the ember of hope her comment ignites, I remind myself that she’s very clearly said she doesn’t want to sleep with me. “And I forgot stuff? Like my… uh, what was it I forgot that night?”
She taps pursed lips as she considers my question. I may have a mind like a sieve half the time, but I’ll never forget the glide of that plush mouth over mine .
“Your colleague brought your portfolio, and then I brought you your phone.”
Her words bring me back to the here and now, where she and I will not be sharing anything more than air. “Ahh, right. You have a good memory. I do not. Lucky for me, Gomer here was trained as a support dog. Long story short, he flunked out, so I adopted him. Turns out he has skills I need. Mainly preventing me from leaving my crap all over New York state.”
Before we mount the steps to the porch, I bring a finger to my lips. “Quiet now, Gomes. Bedtime.”
Opening the side door to usher Diane inside, I whisper, “Going to pretend I’m sleeping on the couch so Gran doesn’t get mad. At me or the dog.” After grabbing a blanket and pillow from the linen closet, I settle Gomer on the couch. “Wake me up in the morning, buddy.”
Diane follows me up the back stairs. “He can tell time too?”
“He wakes me up when he needs to go out, which is basically sunup.” At the landing, I gesture to the bathroom. “You want to wash up first?”
“Um. Yeah, okay. Let me just grab something to sleep in.”
A few minutes later, we trade places and I do my own bedtime routine. When I return, the reading lamp is off. Desire throbs low in my pelvis. I’d love nothing more than to remind her of how compatible we were all those months ago, but I crawl under the covers and sink into the familiar, if lumpy, mattress of my childhood instead.
“Night, Sam.”
“See you in the”—a yawn interrupts my thought—“morning. ”
But when I wake at dawn to the cold nose of my dog, he and I are alone in the room.
She is awfully good at leaving me, th at Diane.