The Last Time We Kissed

by Ann Roth

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Sam’s sister said. She turned to Sam, whose face felt warm with embarrassment. “You managed the driving and car-pooling all right?”

  Sam nodded. “I don’t know how you do it and practice dentistry. I’ve gained new respect for you, sis.”

  “That’s one of the reasons I married her,” Mike said. Tall and solid as befitted a man who owned his own construction company, he towered over his wife by a full six inches. He shot an adoring look at her. “She can do it all.”

  “With a little help from my life partner,” she replied, smiling fondly at him.

  Any fool with eyes could see they were crazy about each other. Lucky couple, Sam thought. Once, long ago, he’d figured he and Amy loved each other that much, but he’d been wrong. Good thing they’d decided to go their separate ways. She needed the right man for her, and it wasn’t him. Though at the thought of her with another man, fresh tension knotted his belly. Frowning, he pushed away his thoughts of Amy.

  “How was it, seeing Amy?” Jeannie asked in a casual tone that didn’t fool Sam. For the past year, she’d hinted that he ought to contact Amy.

  Sam shrugged. “It was okay,” he said without meeting his sister’s eye.

  At the mention of her teacher’s name, Mariah jumped up and down with a girl’s exuberance. “Guess what I found out about Sam and Miss Parker?” she asked her parents.

  She looked like the cat with the richest bowl of cream, which put Sam on alert. No telling what she was about to say.

  “They used to be married to each other!” Mariah announced with great glee.

  Sam rolled his eyes at the ceiling, while Mike covered his mouth with his fist and coughed.

  Jeannie’s mouth twitched. “We know, honey.”

  “Oh.” Undaunted, the girl gave an impish smile. “I heard some of the moms talking at rehearsal today and they said he still likes her and she—”

  Enough was enough. Sam glared at her. “They’re wrong,” he stated in a forceful tone. “I’d like to glue their gossipy mouths shut.”

  Mariah gaped at him. “You don’t have to yell, Uncle Sam. Geesh. You and Miss Parker were both such grouches today, you didn’t even say hello to each other when you dropped me off. How could anybody think you like each other?”

  “You got that right.” Sam said. “Feel free to set the record straight.”

  His niece’s forehead creased. “If you and Miss Parker don’t like each other, how come you’re helping her backstage during the recital?”

  Mike shot him a curious look. “No kidding?”

  “That’s awfully nice of you, Sam,” Jeannie said with barely concealed excitement.

  Given what had happened between him and Amy, Sam wished he could back out. But she needed him, and he’d promised. He shrugged. “She needed someone who wasn’t a parent to run interference that night, so I said I’d do it.”

  “Ah.” His sister nodded and exchanged a knowing look with his brother-in-law. Sam didn’t like that look.

  “Don’t go getting any ideas,” he warned. “I’m doing it for you two and Mariah. Got that?”

  “IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY FOR A HIKE,” Gabe said as he and Josh tromped into Sam’s rec room the following Saturday morning. “Ready to go?”

  Their cheery demeanors irritated Sam, who wasn’t in the best frame of mind. He gave a listless shrug as he laced up one boot. “I guess.”

  “You guess?” Gabe stared in disbelief. “It’s seventy degrees outside and there isn’t a cloud in the sky.

  You couldn’t have planned it any better. And in case you’ve forgotten, you arranged this two months ago.”

  True, Sam acknowledged, lacing the other boot. But that had been several weeks before he and Amy had run into each other. He hadn’t been in a good mood since. “I know. Guess I’m tired.”

  Gabe scrutinized him with a concerned frown. “It’s been several days since your sister and brother-in-law got back. You ought to be recovered from taking care of Mariah by now.”

  “I am,” Sam said. His problems had nothing to do with his niece. “Trouble is, lately I’ve had problems sleeping.” For the past few days, he’d been so restless that he jogged close to eight miles every evening after work, until he felt tired enough to drop. Unfortunately, after a shower and dinner, the edginess returned. He ended up prowling aimlessly around the house until late at night.

  Both his friends shot him perplexed glances.

  “I’m up to my elbows with this new Cutter’s, and that’s pumped up my adrenaline level,” he explained. Which was true. But not the entire reason for his bad mental state. He couldn’t seem to shake free of his need for Amy. He missed her. He wanted her. But he was damned if he’d let those things get him down. They were through with each other and glad of it. Period. Finished with his boots, he stood.

  “But we’ve opened five Cutter’s restaurants,” Josh said, “and this is no different from any of the others.” As Sam’s accountant, he knew the drill as well as Sam.

  “True, but I still can’t sleep.”

  Gabe studied him appraisingly. “You want to stop by my office Monday for a checkup, to make sure you’re okay?”

  Sam shook his head. “I haven’t been sick in years, and I’m not sick now.”

  Josh scratched his neck in confusion, while Gabe gave a puzzled shrug.

  “He’s been in a foul temper all week,” Josh told Gabe. “I ought to know, I’ve met with him and his attorney several times to review the plans for the new Cutter’s and put together the real estate deal.” He shook his head. “It’s been worse than an IRS audit.”

  “Gee, thanks a lot,” Sam muttered. He knew he’d been out of sorts. His short fuse was driving everyone nuts, including himself.

  Gabe rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger as he scrutinized Sam. “Does your bad mood have anything to do with Amy?”

  “Amy?” Sam repeated, stalling for time.

  “It’s all over town that you spent the night at her place last Saturday night.”

  Not again. Sam swore. “The busybodies who live here need to find hobbies.”

  “So it’s true,” Gabe said. He glanced at Josh, and both men eyed Sam speculatively.

  Sam didn’t want to go there, but he knew his buddies well. They wouldn’t give up until he gave them what they wanted—the truth. He released a hard breath. “Listen, there’s nothing between Amy and me, not anymore. We needed to clear up some things, so we, uh, met at her place.”

  Gabe’s brow lifted suggestively. “And your ‘meeting’ lasted all night long.” He grinned and nodded. “Interesting.”

  “Very.” Josh lifted his brows suggestively.

  Sam glared from one to the other. “Also none of your business,” he snapped.

  The accountant held up both hands, palms up. “Okay, okay.”

  “Whatever,” Gabe said. He glanced at Sam. “Given your rotten mood, whatever you were ‘clearing up’ doesn’t seem to have helped.”

  “Sure it did.” For her, anyway. Gabe’s mouth was already open again. Before his nosy friend could comment, Sam narrowed his eyes. “This conversation is over.”

  The doctor nodded. “We were only trying to figure out what’s bothering you.”

  Josh retrieved Sam’s day pack from the Barcalounger. “Maybe he needs to get away from it all. A hike in the woods is just the thing.” He tossed Sam the pack. “Let’s go.”

  His friend was probably right, Sam thought as he hooked the strap over his shoulder and followed them out the door. The woods and fresh air couldn’t hurt.

  Three hours later, they sat beside a gurgling stream in a small clearing, munching on sandwiches and chips, and sipping bottled beer. From the trees surrounding them, birds called out joyously. Colorful spring flowers dotted the tall spring grass, and a soft, warm breeze stirred the air. Gabe had called it a perfect day, and it was.

  Sam enjoyed the outdoors. He should have felt great. Instead, he felt dull and empty. Perch
ed on a warm, flat rock he munched on a chicken salad sandwich Josh’s wife had made. His friends had raved about the celery-and-garlic mayonnaise. To Sam, the stuff tasted like cardboard. What in hell was wrong with him?

  “…and I told the kid to keep his tongue out of soda bottles,” Josh was saying. Chuckling, he shook his head. Gabe laughed heartily. Josh gave Sam a sideways look, and furrows lined his forehead. “You don’t think that’s funny?”

  Sam hadn’t heard a word, but didn’t feel like explaining. “Nope,” he said, clamping his jaw.

  Gabe and Josh looked at each other, then turned their attention to Sam.

  “Enough already,” Josh said. “I can’t take any more of your rotten mood, so you’d better start explaining.”

  Sam tossed aside his lunch. He didn’t feel like talking. “I don’t have anything to say.”

  He could tell they didn’t buy it. Josh eyed him. “We’re your best friends. We’re here to help, not judge.”

  He’d been through hell and back with the two men, and they’d stood by him all the way. But how could he explain what he didn’t understand himself? “I don’t know,” he admitted, kicking at an exposed tree root.

  Gabe angled him a look of disbelief. At Sam’s blank stare, he shook his head and turned to Josh. “I believe he means that.”

  Josh hooted, and that really bothered Sam. He didn’t hide his feelings. Arms crossed, he narrowed his eyes. “What’s so damn funny?”

  “You,” Josh said. “You’re in love with Amy, and you won’t admit it.”

  That was the last thing Sam wanted to hear. “That’s a load of bull,” he barked as he balled up the remains of his lunch. The birds went silent, a fitting tribute to his wrath. He snatched his day pack from the rock beside him, then shoved his trash inside. “Amy and I are all wrong for each other, and we both know it. We’ve known it since before the divorce. After the recital I’ll never see her again. End of subject,” he said, standing. He slung the straps over his shoulders. “I’m ready to head back.”

  Chapter Twelve

  SUNDAY AFTERNOON, Amy stood before the three-way mirror in Nina’s tiny dress-making shop, a crowded space crammed with fabric, supplies, sewing machines, an iron and an ironing board. The wedding was fast approaching and with the recital looming, this was the only time to fit Amy’s dress.

  “The bride really shouldn’t get stuck with making the bridesmaid dresses,” she said as Nina deftly pulled the cap sleeve, lilac silk taut over her hips.

  “I don’t mind,” Nina replied around a mouthful of pins. “Besides, this way I get exactly what I want.” She stopped talking to frown, tug and pin, and for a moment only the oldies song on the radio filled the air. She didn’t speak again until she’d emptied her mouth of pins. “I appreciate your taking time this close to the recital for the fitting.”

  “I needed the break,” Amy said. With the recital in less than a week, she’d been going nonstop from dawn to dark. Not that she minded. Work kept her mind off her personal life. Off Sam. She noted the forlorn expression on her face and erased it under a fleeting smile. “I’ll be so glad when this recital is over.”

  Nina frowned at Amy’s reflection. “Me, too. Because, no offense, you don’t look so good. You’ve lost weight, and those dark circles under your eyes sure don’t flatter you.”

  “You really know how to make a person feel rotten,” Amy muttered. “Even though you’re right.” She bit her lip. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and I’ve lost my appetite, too.”

  “Stress will do that to you.” Another silence while Nina pinned the low-cut bodice. Amy had small breasts, and her friend needed to alter the fit. Intent on the task she didn’t speak again until she nodded her approval and moved behind Amy. “Aside from the recital, is anything else bothering you?”

  “Not really,” Amy hedged. Sam was a man, not “anything.”

  “I cancelled the date with Bob.”

  “Oh?” Nina poked her head around and eyed Amy’s reflection. “What made you change your mind?”

  “There’s no spark.” Unlike the electricity between her and Sam. But then, no one had ever set her heart beating the way he did. Did a man exist who could make her feel as alive as Sam? Since Amy had no future with him, she fervently hoped so. They wanted different things, and were completely wrong for each other.

  A frustrated sigh slipped from her lips. How many times must she repeat that before her heart accepted it? The answer was clear—until she got over Sam. In time, she would forget about him. She would.

  “Given Bob’s reputation, canceling is a wise decision.” Nina stood, brushed the threads from the knees of her jeans and, with slightly narrowed eyes, slowly circled Amy, pausing to adjust a pin here and there. “Okay, you can take off the dress now. Just be careful not to poke yourself with those pins.”

  Grateful to be out of her friend’s scrutiny, Amy wriggled carefully out of the dress.

  “What’s that?” Nina asked, zeroing in on the love bite peeking from the lace edging of Amy’s bra.

  She’d worn a strapless bra to accommodate the low-cut bridesmaid dress. Unfortunately the thing had inched down, exposing the faded mark just above her nipple. Her cheeks flamed as she reached for her peacock-blue T-shirt and yanked it over her head. “What’s what?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me,” Nina said. “Everyone knows Sam spent the night last weekend. And with Venus going into retrograde next month and that dreamy look you get whenever his name comes up, I’d have guessed, anyway.”

  “Oh.” Too downcast to feign surprise or deny her friend’s statement, Amy stepped into her jeans. “As for the dreamy look, you’re imagining things. I’m far too levelheaded to fantasize about Sam. What happened between us was…” The words trailed off while she searched for a way to put their intense physical need for each other into words. “Necessary,” she finished.

  Not that the word even came close to explaining the incredible attraction and unquenchable lust between them. Even now, at the mere thought of the man, her nerves stood primed and eager for more, and her body thrummed. And the depth of intimacy between them…well, it made the loving even more thrilling. For a moment, lost in feeling, she closed her eyes. Then caught herself. She opened her eyes to Nina’s frown of concern.

  “We did what we needed to do,” she added in a calm tone at odds with the emotions whirling inside her. “It’s over now, and it will never happen again.” The very words caused a hollow ache in her heart.

  “Why in the world not?” Nina asked, looking genuinely puzzled. “Neither of you is in a relationship with anyone else,” she said as she hung the dress on a padded hanger. “There’s no reason for you not to be involved.”

  “There are several very good reasons,” Amy countered. “First,” she held up one finger, “Sam doesn’t love me.” No sense stating the obvious—that she was in love with him. She stepped into her jeans. She trusted Nina, but in a town the size of Forest Hills, even the most confidential information seemed to reach people at the speed of light. If Sam learned that she’d foolishly fallen for him, she’d never be able to look him in the eye again. “Second,” she continued, holding up another finger, “you know how badly I want to get married again. He doesn’t. He never will.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he told me. Sam has always been honest with me, and I’m grateful for that. After the recital, I’ll never see him again, except to wave hello on the street.”

  “But you’re miserable,” her friend pointed out.

  Less than grateful for the reminder, Amy compressed her lips. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted as she slipped into her clogs. “And I’d appreciate it if we dropped the subject.”

  AMY WHEELED HER CART rapidly through the near vacant, brightly lit grocery, keenly aware that she had less than thirty minutes to select and pay for groceries. Her fault for showing up at ten-thirty on a Tuesday night. She didn’t even want to be here, longed to crawl into bed and close her e
yes. But only if that meant no dreams. Unfortunately, for the last week and a half—since that unforgettable night with Sam—her dreams were mostly of him. Often she woke up reaching for him with longing. Of course, he wasn’t there, which put her in a wretched mood. So tonight she’d decided to stay up later, hoping that when she finally slept, she’d be too tired to dream. And anyway, with the recital in just four days, there was too much to do to sleep.

  And since there was nothing much to eat at home except a few packages of ramen noodles and a block of moldy cheese, she could no longer put off this errand. She hurried from aisle to aisle, piling enough pasta, meats, produce and breads into her cart to last the week. At least by shopping now, she avoided running into nosy friends and townspeople, who mostly shopped for groceries at an earlier hour.

  Now to the pharmacy aisle. She needed Band-Aids, bobby pins and hair spray for the recital. Amy ticked off the items as she added them to the cart. Moving forward she glanced at her watch. Seven minutes until closing. She turned the corner, moving toward the magazines. There was still time to pick up—At the sight of the man at the end of the aisle, her thoughts abruptly ended and her step faltered. Sam.

  He was angled away from her, rifling through a magazine, but Amy recognized him at once. The broad shoulders and his jet-black hair pulled back at the nape were dead giveaways, not to mention his long legs and very nice rear end. Her heart gave a joyous leap and her breath seemed to catch. Mustering her resolve, she ignored the unwanted elation suddenly lifting her spirits. What was he doing here? It was late, and he should have been at home.

  She fleetingly thought about ducking away before he saw her, but that was silly. They were adults, and they were over each other. Forest Hills was a small place. She was bound to run into him now and then, she told herself, forgetting that until a month ago they’d managed to live here for nearly a year without once seeing each other. This was good practice, unencumbered by the eyes of prying towns-people. She just wished she’d changed her clothes, put on makeup and rebraided her hair first.