by Jo Leigh
“There’s really nothing to tell.” Her cheeks and ears burned, but it was dark enough Sharon couldn’t see. Yes, she and Sharon were friends, but not the kind that discussed their sex lives.
“How long has he been here?”
“Um, let’s see...a week or so? We had dinner the second night he arrived so that’s...yeah, about a week now.”
Met with a lengthy silence, Emma turned to her friend. They’d stopped for a red light, and Sharon was staring at her. “What?”
“You never said.”
“I told you. He’s an old friend. That’s all,” Emma said, resisting the urge to squirm. “He and Danny went to the Academy together.”
“Ah. I see.” Sharon watched the light change to green and drove.
“Why are you being all cryptic?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just that you’ve clearly known him for a long time. You and Sam are friends, too.”
“Yes, we are.” Her defensive tone made her wince, and she quickly turned to look out her window.
“So you two kept in touch?”
“No, but that was my fault. I pushed him away after Danny’s death. It was a bad time. I—” She sighed, unable to remember how much she’d told Sharon. Even though their relationship had evolved into something nice and comfortable over the past two years, she’d still been careful how much she’d said about Danny.
“I can only imagine,” Sharon said, driving slowly, which wasn’t unusual, just a pain in the butt when Emma didn’t want to talk.
“The truth is I’d been planning on getting a divorce. Danny died before I had a chance to tell him. He hadn’t made the move to Alamo yet.”
Sharon’s soft “Oh, honey” made Emma swallow around a lump in her throat. She wasn’t sure why she’d blurted that out. Maybe it was the beer. Or maybe she was just so tired of carrying that secret around she’d had to let it go.
“Does Sam know that?”
Emma shook her head. “He’d probably hate me if he knew. Danny was his closest friend. Along with their buddy John, who’s at Nellis now. They were like brothers.”
“I know it’s none of my business, and it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me, but why did you want the divorce?”
“Pilots. A certain kind of pilot, they’re a different breed. Smart and exciting and living for the charge and the adrenaline... It was intoxicating in the beginning. Like living in an adventure story. But it turned out that Danny didn’t quite have enough room for me and the air force and flying. I came in second too many times. But the kicker was that I couldn’t imagine him as a father, you know? Kids and Danny didn’t fit.”
“Didn’t you say that, what’s his name—Vince—was a flyboy?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know that when I met him.”
“You went out with him again, though.”
“Nope. I realized he was too much like Danny and ended things before they got started.”
“Gary’d make a good dad,” Sharon said, and if she was trying to be subtle, she’d failed. “He may not burn as bright as a fighter jock, but he’d keep you warm for a long time.”
“You do realize Gary and I aren’t dating.”
Sharon didn’t say a thing, but then she didn’t have to. Of course she knew because she’d invited them separately to barbecues and theme parties at her house. Even when all the other guests were couples. She hadn’t been pushy about throwing them together, so Emma had never said anything. Although perhaps she should have. She’d hate that Gary had gotten the wrong message when Emma herself didn’t know what she wanted yet.
As they pulled up to her place, Sharon put the car in Park, then turned to her. “Be careful, kiddo. Think it through. You deserve the best. Someone who’ll put you first.”
Emma thought about that sports bike. A man who wanted a marriage and family wouldn’t risk his life on something so foolish. Now, why couldn’t she remember that when it counted?
9
THE PARKING at Alameda Park was crazy, but that wasn’t much of a surprise considering the Fall Festival was a pretty big event for Alamo. A ton of booths were set up, mostly arts and crafts, but there were live shows on the big stage, food of the state fair variety and lots of play areas for the little ones.
The only part that interested Sam was that Emma was here, working the funnel-cake booth with her fellow English teachers. She hadn’t mentioned it at bowling, but Deanna had asked him to come by. He’d told himself it had probably slipped Emma’s mind, but now he was wondering if he should’ve stayed away.
Well, he was already here, with nothing else to do on a Saturday. That didn’t mean he had to get in her face. He’d check things out, keep his distance until he figured out if his being here was okay or not.
As he made his way through the park, the loudspeakers blared a bad rendition of “Puff the Magic Dragon” sung by a grammar school choir, and the air was thick with a mix of scents both cloying and appetizing at the same time. Sam hadn’t been hungry all morning, but now he was thinking homemade tamales might hit the spot.
After he found Emma. After he figured out what to say to her.
The night at the bowling alley had managed to multiply his confusion by the power of ten. There was no doubt Gary was interested in Emma. Sam had nearly convinced himself that the math teacher would be a good choice for her. A better choice than Sam, at least.
Then there’d been that moment after Emma’s spare. The chemistry between them had been undeniable and potent. Jesus, he still wanted her. The memories of her in his bed were going to haunt him forever. Why did their first time have to be on the brand-new mattress? Sometimes life could be very unfair.
The funnel-cake booth came into view and, just his luck, the first person he saw was his old buddy Gary. What the hell was he doing there? He wasn’t even in the English department. Didn’t the man have anything better to do with his time?
There was Sharon, as well, but she was taking off her apron. Emma wasn’t visible yet, and as he walked closer he realized the group of people he’d seen by the booth weren’t just mingling, they were in line. A long one.
The crowd made it difficult to get close enough to see the whole booth. It was jammed inside the box on wheels, and it didn’t look very pleasant. Two big trays were boiling oil, and it had to be hot as Hades, especially considering the booth was enclosed in glass.
Emma stepped up to the window, sliding a huge paper plate holding a cake with a lot of goop and whipped cream on it. Also a soda. Her smile made something inside him ache.
Watching her like this reminded him of her waitress days. She never stopped, hardly ever took a break. If something wasn’t ready fast enough, she’d go back behind the bar and help out, sometimes mixing drinks, sometimes cooking. The owners of the Rusty Nail loved her. Everyone did. But when she met Danny, lightning had struck.
He remembered that day, but his most vivid memory of that time and place was the night Emma announced that she and Danny had decided to get married.
Two things had hit Sam within seconds. First, that they had to be nuts to get married so young and without knowing where the air force would send them. And that he was deeply jealous.
Unfortunately, both of those conclusions had come back to him with a vengeance. She had been too young to marry Danny. And no one was like her. Every other woman he’d gone out with had fallen short. That was why he couldn’t just let it go. If there was any chance at all that they could be together...
He’d gotten as close as he wanted to for now. He watched her hustle, pouring batter, taking orders, grinning with enthusiasm and humor. She turned at something Gary said, and Sam’s heart thudded in his chest as the bastard reached over and pushed some stray hairs from her cheek. Emma’s laughter rose above the sound of the crowd until the next musical number started. She bumped Gary’s
shoulder with her own, and he gave her a look that made her laugh again.
What the hell was Sam doing? He should have bought a clue the other night when Emma hadn’t been able to choose between them. Emma had said she and Gary weren’t an item, but that was just a matter of time. Once again, someone else had gotten to her first.
The thought brought a stab of guilt with it. Naturally he’d never told Danny that he’d had a thing for his girlfriend, his wife. Never told John, either. It had been a shameful secret, and he’d done all he could not to think about her. To fill the emptiness with different women, flying, doing whatever he could to get his blood moving.
But she’d never left his thoughts completely. When he’d found out he was being transferred to Alamogordo, he’d tried hard not to take it as a sign. What an idiot. It was time to leave. Make a quick exit. She’d never know he was there.
Before he’d even taken five steps, a bundle of energy ran headlong into his side. Sam stumbled, but caught himself before he fell. In a neat trick he probably couldn’t have duplicated if he tried, he also managed to stop a soccer ball and the little boy from taking a header.
“Hey, that’s mine.”
The kid must have been around seven or so. Skinny as a rail with a close-cropped head of black curls and big brown eyes, he lunged for the ball and almost tripped again. His feet were the problem. They’d sprouted before the rest of him could catch up.
“Take it easy there, big guy.” Sam put his toe underneath the ball and flipped it into his left hand. “Here you go.” Sam looked around to see if someone was watching the kid, but no one seemed interested. “Are you supposed to be here by yourself?”
“I’m playing soccer with the sixth graders. They let me play because my brother said so. I get to kick the ball if I chase it when it goes out of bounds.”
“And where is your brother?”
The boy looked behind him, then stopped. Turned to his left, then his right, then back to center, and Sam could see he was getting a little panicked.
Crouching down, he put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry...we’ll find them. Let’s see if we can get out of this crowd first, okay? Someone will know where the sixth-grade soccer players are.”
“Okay. They need the ball back. He’ll be mad if I’m late.”
“You don’t worry about that. What’s your name?”
“Elijah.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Sam.” He let Elijah carry the ball while lightly keeping his hand on the boy’s shoulder as they headed back in the direction he’d come from. Soon enough, they found the soccer field, but the sixth graders weren’t waiting for their lost ball. They were in the middle of a game that looked far too rough for someone Elijah’s size.
“Do you see your brother?”
Elijah wiped his nose with the back of his arm. “He’s over there,” he said, not even bothering to point.
“What about your parents?”
He nodded toward a picnic area, where a tall woman was holding a baby and looking frantic.
“Come on, she’s worried. Let’s run.”
Elijah’s mother was grateful but scared, and Sam didn’t stick around for the aftermath. He figured the kid was more upset about not being able to play than getting in trouble.
He walked in the direction of his car, slowly this time, trying not to let his mood send him into a tailspin. The whole point of caring about someone was to want the best for them. He’d always hoped Emma would be happy. Only, he wanted to be the one to make her that way.
Almost to his car, he heard his name. He turned to find Emma jogging toward him without the big apron she’d worn in the truck. He couldn’t hold back a smile at her pink-striped T-shirt and plaid shorts. So very Emma.
“Where are you going?” she asked, breathless from her run in the September heat.
Sam shook his head, trying not to stare at the tiny damp hairs plastered to her temple. He wanted to sweep them back, erase Gary’s touch. “Home.”
She ended up wiping her forehead with the side of her hand. “God, it’s unbearable. The cart is air-conditioned.”
“You shouldn’t get overheated. Maybe you should go back.”
Her hand stilled in midair. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you come up and say hello? I saw you, but then you left with that little boy.”
He should send her away, send her back to Gary, but when it came to Emma, Sam had no willpower. “Come to the car. I’ve got cold water.”
She nodded, walked beside him. “Was it too awkward the other night? I swear it was the beer. I don’t know why it gets to me so quickly. I could probably drink you under the table with tequila, but two beers and I’m an idiot.”
“Thursday night was fine...bowling was fun,” he said. “It was nice to meet your friends.” He clicked open his car doors and the trunk. The small ice chest was stocked with water bottles and soda. He grabbed a couple of the waters and opened hers.
“Thanks,” she said, and took a long drink. “Then why were you leaving without a word?”
The confession sat heavy in his chest. Instead of coming out with it, he got behind the wheel and turned over the engine, pushing the air vents toward the passenger seat, then opening her window halfway. “Get in before you melt.”
She did. The moment she closed her door, he realized it wasn’t the smartest move. Up close, he could see how hurt she looked. How confused.
“You were busy. The line was long—”
Her stare didn’t soften so much as give up. “So what was all that with the kid?”
Grabbing on to the life raft she’d tossed him, he smiled. “His big brother was trying to get rid of him. Kicked the ball into the crowd. The little guy got confused. We went to find his folks.”
“They must have been grateful.”
“Mad, more like it. These days it’s got to be scary going to a public event with more than one child to keep track of. They can disappear so fast.”
“That was really nice, Sam.” Her expression was odd, not one he recalled seeing before, but her soft smile...he loved that smile.
“What was nice?”
“Staying with him until he spotted his parents and knowing they’d be worried. You could’ve just handed him the ball.”
“That surprises you?”
“I’ve never really seen you with kids. And I know you’re an only child, so...well, who knew you could be so empathetic?”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No.” Laughing, she briefly touched his arm, and it was pretty sad how the casual contact got to him. “I didn’t mean it like that...honest.”
“Hey, I like kids. I sort of figured I’d have at least one by now.”
If she’d looked confused before, now she seemed completely bewildered. She drew back and gave him a long look.
“What? It’s not that weird. Lots of men want children.”
“No, you’re right. Lots do. But I never pictured...” She took another quick sip of water. “So why were you running off, Sam?”
“I don’t much like being a third wheel,” he admitted. “You and Gary look comfortable together. He seems like a nice guy.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Gary and I are friends. Nothing more.”
“I don’t think he got the memo on that.”
She drank some more water, and he knew a stall tactic when he saw it. “I’ve known him for over a year. He is a nice guy. I like him.... I like hanging out with him. A few times I thought we might be headed somewhere,” she said carefully. “But there’s no spark, no chemistry. Or it would have surfaced by now.”
He should have argued with her, but those little hairs at her temple were teasing him. Before he could stop himself, he brushed them back, his thumb lingering on the warmth of her skin.
Just as he was going to pull away, her hand gripped his wrist. She leaned closer, and he mirrored her, knowing exactly what was about to happen. “Don’t,” he said. “Friends don’t kiss the way I want to kiss you right now.”
She nodded, moving his hand along with her head. “I know. We should stop.” But she didn’t.
He didn’t.
With one hand trapped, and one on the edge of her seat, he closed the connection, completing the circuit. The spark could have lit up the city.
She tasted like sugar and cinnamon. Sam struggled not to push too hard, to let her set the pace, but when her grip tightened and her tongue thrust between his lips, all bets were off. He kissed her back, hard and deep, and felt her shudder. A moan started low in his throat, and he didn’t even try to squash it. Didn’t care that they were making out in the parking lot like a couple of high school kids. Lacking chemistry clearly wasn’t their problem.
She pulled back, breathing hard. Her gaze was wide and dark as she stared into his eyes. He was sure she’d leave. That it was over before it had begun, but then he leaned forward and she didn’t turn away.
Finally, she let go of his wrist, and he was able to run his hand over her back. When she gripped him again at his nape, he smiled, never stopping the push-pull of their mouths. She wanted him there, steady and sure, and she wanted to keep the fire burning.
The hell with Gary, the hell with being friends. This was what he wanted. Needed. Emma to be his.
When she finally pulled away for real, it felt like a blow. She looked ravished. He hadn’t realized his hand had been in her hair. Her lips were puffy and slick, more like she’d run a mile than cooled off in a car.
“I have to go back to the booth.”
He nodded even as he thought about tearing out of the parking lot and stealing her away. That is, if he hadn’t completely drained the battery by running it in this heat.
“Come over tonight.”
“I can’t. I’m working late here.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
The look on her face told him that was also a no. “I’ve made plans.”
