by N. Raines
"They're looking out for their little girl. I get it." Britt wrinkled her nose and grinned. "But hey, keep right on telling me how awesome I am. I don't mind at all."
A worm of guilt gnawed Sam as she gazed at her cousin. Then, because she had to ask, she added, "Does it bother you, me being with Rick?"
Britt gave a knowing smile. "So it's gotten that far, huh? I thought so." Her eyebrows lowered in concern and her face grew serious. "He didn't push you, did he? Try to make you do something you weren't ready for?"
"No! No, if anything, I made the first move."
"Okay." Britt sank back in the seat. "Wait, are you asking if I'm jealous or something? Why would I be? I'm with Morgan, I'm happy. Rick was high school…" Her voice trailed off as if there were more she wanted to say, but couldn't find words for. "Just be careful, all right?"
"We are," Sam assured her. "We've got the whole condom thing down."
"Good. But I mean, don't get hurt."
The little hairs on Sam's arms prickled. "Why would I get hurt?"
"Never mind. I'm being nosy, looking out for my little cousin." Britt tried playing it off, but Sam wasn't fooled.
"I'm not a kid anymore."
Britt's smile was tinged with sadness. "I know. That's what worries me."
Sam stepped out of the car, and Britt waved good-bye and drove off. Sam walked to the house, weighted down by her shopping bags and a sense of unease.
She carried the bags upstairs and laid them on the bed—the dress, the underwear and stockings Britt had insisted she buy, the shoes. Britt's gift of makeup she placed on the dresser.
The creak of the kitchen door told her someone had entered the house. "Pop?" she called.
"It's me," Rick answered.
She entered the hall and went to the top of the steps, to find him standing at the bottom.
"Your father went out a little while ago," Rick told her. "He called just before you got in. He met up with some friends; they're getting together for poker."
"I thought Lenny was sick."
"Yeah. They're going someplace else. Lenny's out of luck."
But she and Rick were in luck. Maybe. "Did he say how long—"
A slow grin curved his mouth and a suggestive glint lit his eyes. "Said not to wait up."
"Really?" Sam's earlier apprehension disappeared, erased by the prospect of having alone time with Rick. Her skin prickled in anticipation. Her nipples bunched into tight knots.
"Mm-hmm." The look on his face told her he was having the same dirty thoughts she was.
She flew down the steps and launched herself into his hold. Hooking her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, she clung to him like Velcro. He grabbed her, one hand gripping her waist. The other cupped her ass, lifting her against him.
They kissed each other fiercely, making up for the days of celibacy. Their mouths clashed, then slowly clung, nipped, and sucked, savoring each kiss.
Sam pulled back to gasp for breath. "Let's go to your place." She would have suggested her own room—it was closer—but Rick still remained stubborn about not doing it under her father's roof.
"Wait a minute." He loosened his hold, and reluctantly she slid her legs down until she was standing.
He ran his fingers through her hair as though he loved the feel of it. "How'd your shopping go?"
"Good." She was flummoxed. Since when did guys like talking about shopping? And why did Rick want to talk about it now, when they were both so hot for each other? She wanted to get down and dirty, not discuss her purchases.
"You found a dress, then? When can I see it?"
"Uh…you mean right now?" She was so not in the mood for a fashion show.
"I want to take you out."
"Out?" He'd left her in the dust.
"Out. On a date." He lifted his eyebrows and clowned, speaking slowly and patiently, as though to a child. "You know, when two people go somewhere, do something together…"
"Shut up." She swatted his shoulder. "I know what a date is."
"We haven't been on one yet. Feeding the cats at Shankey's doesn't count. Neither does getting coffee at the drive-through."
No. Neither did getting busy in the loft, which was what she really wanted to do. If Pop meant what he said, though, about not waiting up, then there'd be plenty of time for that later. And how long since she'd been on a real date?
Chapter Nine
Too long. Sam was actually nervous and surreptitiously used the red-and-white checked napkin next to her plate to dry her damp palms. Ruggiero's had cloth napkins and decent food, but was not fancy. Not expensive either, since Rick was insisting on paying. The restaurant had been Sam's choice. The decor might have been kind of corny—each table sported a straw-covered Chianti bottle, and pictures of mustachioed men lined the walls—but she loved the homey feel of the place.
She shifted uneasily in her chair, alone at their table, waiting for Rick to return from the men's room. From the corner of her eye, she scoped out the other diners. They were eating, drinking, perusing their menus. Nobody was looking her way or paying her the least bit of attention. Nobody could tell she was on a first date.
How dumb to be nervous. It was just dinner, for God's sake, and they'd eaten together before. Nor was she nervous about what would happen at the end of the night. After all, it wasn't like she and Rick hadn't already slept together, and she had every intention of doing it again. A lot.
It felt different, though. More serious than hooking up secretly, with no one the wiser. This was a public appearance, the two of them together. Like a couple.
Don't get ahead of yourself, Sam. It's just some pasta and eggplant parmesan. Not love everlasting.
Though their table was in the dining room, she was close enough to the entrance to see the counter where people picked up their take-out orders. A lanky, shaggy-haired dude came in the front door and spoke to the guy behind the counter. Though she only glimpsed him from the side, his height and the way he moved brought her a sickening sense of recognition. The moment she asked herself if it was really Cody was exactly the moment she knew it was.
Nausea hit the pit of her stomach while cold sweat popped out on her forehead. She hadn't seen him since high school, hadn't spoken to him since the most humiliating night of her life.
Sam couldn't move. She should have hidden behind her menu or pretended to rifle through her purse, but by the time he turned her way, it was too late.
Their gazes locked, and Cody had the same wide-eyed look of shock that was surely reflected on her own face. She knew exactly how he felt, too, because she had the same feelings. Panic. Dread. Praying the molecules of her body would simply separate and disappear.
They were both wishing they could pretend they'd never seen each other, and not quite having the guts to do so.
He gave a careless wave in her direction. "Hey, Sam. How's it going?"
He played it cool, as though it were only weeks since they'd seen each other rather than years. Whatever. She could do that, too. "Good." Her face was blazing, while her body was freezing cold. "How 'bout with you?"
"Oh, good. Good. Just came to pick up some takeout."
"Uh-huh." In the bloated silence, Cody gave a desperate glance over his shoulder, as though hoping the man behind the counter would rescue him. A sudden pang of sadness hit Sam. They'd been friends once, good friends, going out together, playing video games, just chilling. She'd missed that. Missed him. But she had only herself to blame. Her own stupid actions had wrecked their easygoing friendship. What had possessed her to try to make it into something more?
"So, uh…so what are you doing now?" he asked, floundering.
"Working." Her one-word replies didn't add much to the conversation, but it was hard to speak. Her throat felt packed with sawdust.
He nodded. "Cool. I'm going to school out of state. One more year to go."
"Awesome." Envy flared in her. Cody had gone away to school, gotten to live on his own, see new places, meet ne
w people. That could have been her life, if Pop hadn't gotten sick, if she hadn't come home to take care of him—
Stop it. God, was she that much of a bitch, resenting her own father for having two heart attacks? He hadn't forced her to do anything, after all. It had been her choice. She'd wanted to look after him.
Rick returned from the men's room and had to pass in front of Cody to get to his chair. "Excuse me."
"Sure." Cody stepped back, though there was plenty of room. Rick sat and glanced at him curiously, then raised his eyebrows at Sam. She was saved from having to introduce the two guys when a man emerged from the back room with a brown paper bag. "Order's up."
Cody practically sagged with relief at his chance to escape. "That's me," he said quickly. "Well, I'll see you around, huh? We should hang out sometime."
Yeah, no.
Rick's gaze followed Cody out the main door. "Friend of yours?"
"We hung out back in high school." She played with the straw in her glass. "He was a friend, until I messed it up."
"What's that mean?"
"It means I did something stupid. But it's embarrassing, you know?"
He waited, not pressuring her. The truth was, she wanted to get it off her chest. She'd never told anyone, not even Britt. And since Rick was a guy, maybe he could give her a man's perspective.
"We were lab partners in chemistry; that's how we first got to know each other. We had a lot in common, a little geeky, not real popular. But we had friends, people we hung out with. We never dated, but sometimes we'd chill on our own, just the two of us. As buds, you know? One night I went to his house—his parents were out somewhere—and he sneaked some beers from the fridge. We each had a couple while we played the Xbox, and out of the blue, he kissed me. I thought maybe he liked me. As more than a friend. And he'd just been too shy to show it."
Rick gave a snort, then shook his head. Was he laughing at her?
Heat flashed through her. Sure, she'd been dumb, but he didn't have to make fun of her. "What?"
"No, nothing."
"Yes, something. You're obviously thinking it, so go on and say it." Her pride bristled. "You can't see a guy ever being interested in me?"
His smirk vanished. "No. Just if he liked you and didn't say anything, he was a wimp."
"Just 'cause somebody's shy doesn't make him that. Not everyone's a player like you." Why was she bothering to defend stupid Cody? Or was she defending herself, trying to make her own choices seem less lame?
Rick snorted again and rolled his eyes. "A player? Yeah, right."
Sam's curiosity sparked. She assumed someone like him had been with a lot of girls and had plenty of experience. It had certainly seemed so the night they'd spent together. Not that she'd know the difference, considering he was her one and only.
So maybe he wasn't up to his armpits in women? The thought cheered her.
"Even a dude who doesn't know his way around chicks is gonna let a girl know he wants her," Rick was saying. "Especially if he thinks she's interested too."
"Well, that's what I thought the kiss was. Letting me know." Jesus, why were guys so freaking hard to understand?
"What about you? Did you like him as more than a friend?"
"I…" How humiliating to admit it, after it had all blown up in her face. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. Anyway, after the kiss, I wanted him to know I was up for it. So the next time he asked me over, I had Britt help me out with makeup and all the girlie stuff. I did my hair, put on a skirt, and showed up at his place, thinking I was gonna wow him." To her horror, tears pricked her eyes. She gritted her teeth, blinking furiously. Oh, crap. That was all she needed, to start crying over something long over and done. Make herself look like an even bigger idiot.
"He opened the door, took one look, and said, ‘Whoa, Halloween came early this year. What are you supposed to be?'"
Rick growled. "What a little shit."
"I think he was embarrassed. He had some friends over, hanging out. Probably thought it was going to be like any other night when we all got together. Hey, for all I know, he'd forgotten about the kiss. I caught him off guard."
"So? That gave him no right to be an ass. Why you making excuses for him?" Rick looked pissed enough to chew glass. That he was on her side eased her sore feelings and made it easier to tell the rest.
"A couple of the guys saw me in the doorway. Cody turned to them and said, 'Hey, check it out. Sam's come trick-or-treating. Too bad I'm fresh out of candy.' They started laughing."
"Shit. You should've kicked him in the balls."
"I was, like, frozen. I wanted to run away, but I couldn't move. I didn't know what to do. Then I start laughing too, like it was all a big joke. That's all I could think of. Ha-ha, crazy old Sam, look what she's up to now. How funny." Shit. Her eyes were burning again. Poor Rick, having to listen to her tale of woe. Suck it up, Sam. Quit being such a damn baby. She stared down into her cola. "Sorry."
"You've got nothing to be sorry about. I bet you were cute."
She shook her head. "Nah. It was stupid. And it ruined our friendship. After that, he did everything he could to avoid me at school. His buddies would smirk at me while he wouldn't even make eye contact."
"Weren't they your friends too?"
"I thought so. But you know what they say: bros before hoes."
Afterward, she'd crawled into her shell. Her humiliation had been so intense, she resolved to forget about guys and focus on school. She'd get good grades, go to college, pursue her dreams. And she'd done that, until those plans had been derailed by Pop's heart attack.
"Typical high school bullshit," Rick said. "Your Cody was nothing but a dumbass little dick. Cared more about looking cool to his friends than about you. If he'd had any balls, he'd have kicked out his asshole buddies and gotten busy with you. Too bad for him. His loss, my gain."
His intense, heated stare had all thoughts of Cody flying from her head and words drying up in her throat. She swallowed hard. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, wet her lips nervously.
He watched the movement of her tongue over her lips, which made her heart beat even harder, faster. Her gaze darted about the room, landing anywhere but on him.
"Sam."
"Huh?" She looked at him briefly before her glance bounced away.
"I want to take you home right now." His voice was low. "But I promised you dinner."
Her heart thudded in her ears. When she spoke, her voice was no more than a whisper. "I'm not very hungry." Well, not for food, anyway.
He leaned across the table toward her. "That new dress you bought today. What color is it?"
"C-coral." The word came out in a stutter. "Why?"
"I want to see you in it. Will you wear it for me?"
Sam gaped at him, speechless, her mind a blank.
He took her hand across the table and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. "Will you?"
"I—" Her voice was a croak. "Our food should be coming any minute." Arghh, what was she doing? Chicken.
He grinned, leaned back in his chair, and gestured to their server. When she reached their table, he gave the woman an ingratiating smile. "I hate to trouble you, but could we have our order to go?"
****
When they reached the house, Rick carried their boxed dinners to the loft, and Sam hurried up to her room. She tore off her clothing and dressed, from underwear on up, in all the finery she'd purchased.
She dumped the bag of cosmetics Britt had bought her onto her dresser, then made up her face, using it sparingly under the premise that less was more. She didn't want to be mistaken for a circus clown. A bit of eye shadow and mascara, some blush on her cheeks. She picked up the lipstick and hesitated, remembering the last time she'd worn some. Hearing Cody's laughter. "Halloween came early this year."
No. She was not going to let dumbass Cody spoil this. Resolutely, she uncapped the tube and coated her mouth with red. She'd have never had the nerve to pick such a bold color herself, but Sam had to admit it
looked good on her. Britt knew her stuff.
Sam opened her closet and gazed at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. The inner corset of the strapless dress held her breasts high, making the most of what little she had. The bodice had a small dip in the center, what Britt called a sweetheart neckline. The swirly chiffon skirt grazed her legs a few inches above her knees. She tried to look at herself the way she would a stranger.
Sam smiled. She looked good. She looked hot.
She was ready to go get her man.
After taking a deep breath and smoothing the dress over her hips, she headed down the stairs and out the door to the garage. Her insides turned somersaults and her hand felt damp as she twisted the knob to the side door.
When it opened with a creak, he called from upstairs. "Sam?"
"Uh-huh." She cleared her throat as she entered. "Yeah, it's me."
"Come on up."
She took another deep breath and slowly ascended the stairs. She wanted to be graceful. Wanted to look at ease. Not as though her heart was beating like a hummingbird's wings.
Rick waited at the top of the steps, eating her up with his stare. He took a step back as she reached the top. His gaze caressed her from head to toe. His smile hitched up and he nodded. "Yeah, like I thought. Smoking."
He took her hand and led her in. The only place to sit in the tiny room was the bed, and he gestured for her to make herself comfortable. Right. As though she could be comfortable with her heart about to burst out of her chest.
As she sat, he opened the minifridge and took out a couple of bottles of beer. "I wish it was champagne or one of those girlie drinks, but this is the best I can offer."
She took the bottle gratefully, eager for something to ease her dry throat. "It's fine."
He popped the cap and handed her one. She took a sip. The bitter, yeasty brew cooled her throat but did nothing to quench the fire in her belly that slowly spread down to throb between her thighs.
****
Rick's chest swelled with satisfaction as his gaze drifted over Sam in her pretty dress. He was so proud of her. He was also unbelievably turned on. Fire moved from his belly to his balls, then up into his cock. "You look fucking awesome."
