Run Wild With Me

by Sandra Chastain

  “No problem. I’ll tell you all about me. I’m thirty-two years old. I have a little money saved up, but not enough. I like animals and children. I’m a carpenter who doesn’t have a steady job and probably never will have. That’s about all there is to know, Andrea Fleming.”

  Except, he could have added, that the last encounter I had with the law was being arrested in another southern town about the same size as this one.

  “Be serious, Sam. You came to the social tonight. It surprised me, but I appreciate what you were trying to say. And if you’d like to consider being my fellow for a while, I think I’d like us to take it one step at a time. Lord, that sounded juvenile, didn’t it?”

  Sam took a long, calming breath as he turned into Andrea’s driveway. “I’m willing to give it a try. But I’m not sure that I have that much control. Hell, Stormy,” he said in a husky voice, ‘ “I don’t even know if I like you or I’m just turned on by the uniform. Is kissing forbidden?”

  She felt his fingers bite into her shoulder. “No,” she said tightly, and knew she was lost. Although restraint was her idea, she couldn’t resist him. “Under Chief Fleming’s rules kissing is considered one of the steps in getting acquainted.” She parted her lips and tilted her head. “A very personal way of getting acquainted.”

  It was Sam who finally pulled away. “Whee, darlin’, I don’t know about the rest of the world, but I hope people in Arcadia get to know each other real fast. My body can’t take this kind of friendship for long.”

  “Ah, Sam,” Andrea drew back breathlessly. “That’s exactly what I mean. I still don’t know a thing about you, personally.”

  He leaned back on the seat and folded his arms across his chest. “All right, what else do you want to know?”

  Andrea took a deep breath and fought the urge to crawl back into his arms. This was her idea. Now it was up to her to carry out her own plan. “Are you married?”

  “Not yet. But I’m courting my girl.”

  Andrea gasped. “ ‘Sam’s girl.’ I like that.”

  “Good. We’re going steady. According to Otis that was my first objective. Good night, darlin’.”

  “You’re going?” This time Andrea didn’t even try to keep the dismay from her voice.

  “Yep. I don’t want to, but I’m going.” Sam slid out of the Bronco and assisted Andrea out of the truck and into his arms.

  “Oh, Sam. Good night. Come for supper Saturday night, and we’ll sit in the swing and talk, seriously.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’d be pleased to come for supper.” With great control Sam walked Andrea to the porch, kissed her chastely on the cheek, and left.

  Sam felt pleasantly tired as the cool night air blew against his face. The last time he’d taken a girl out for the evening, necked in front of her house, and left her at the door without spending the night was when he’d been a green recruit at Marine boot camp on Parris Island.

  He glanced at his watch, blinking the time in bright green letters. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock, and he couldn’t remember when he’d felt so good. Must be the country air, he mused, and began to hum as he walked along.

  Eight

  Saturday morning in Arcadia was busy. By ten A.M. Buck still hadn’t checked in, and Andrea was restless. Since the previous night at the social, no one had asked her about Sam. That they’d not asked about him was more revealing than their previous curiosity. Finally she walked to the post office and picked up the mail, glancing idly through it until she came to one addressed to Chief Andrea Fleming.

  Ripping open the envelope, she knew what was inside. There was a copy of a police report—from Arkansas—on Sam Farley.

  Seven years before, Sam had been arrested and convicted of holding up a service station. He’d served three months in jail before the attendant had admitted that he hadn’t gotten a good look at the man, and a witness had been located who was willing to testify that he’d given Sam a ride into town at about the same time the robbery had taken place. The case had finally been returned to the judge, who later had dropped the charges, and Sam had been let go. Andrea stood there in the bright June sunlight, staring at the report.

  She walked slowly back to the station, her thoughts pelting her like showers of fine gravel. Now she understood Sam’s distrust of small towns. It had been a small town that had betrayed his mother, then him. He’d seen firsthand what happened to outsiders.

  Andrea hadn’t considered Sam’s past. Just because she’d been betrayed by outsiders, she’d automatically expected the same thing from him. But he’d had the same experience in reverse. Her mother had been the first to leave her. David’s betrayal had been even worse. For five years she’d closed out any personal relationship for fear of being hurt. Now Sam had come into her life and made her care again. And they’d branded each other with the past.

  Andrea wadded up the sheet and stuffed it in her pocket. If Sam could take a chance on her town, she could take a chance on him. The report had come straight to her. Nobody else had to know.

  By the time she got back to the police station, Buck was firmly ensconced behind his desk, wearing his uniform for the first time since he’d started as Sam’s unofficial building supervisor.

  “Are you-all about finished at Sam’s place?”

  “Almost. I decided it was time I got back to work. Understand you’re cooking dinner for Sam tonight.” Buck surveyed his daughter with a serious eye, then lowered his head as he studied the pencil he was flipping back and forth in his hands. “Maybe you’d like to talk about that?”

  “Oh?” Andrea strained to hold back a smile as she realized that Buck was about to deliver the speech he hadn’t delivered ten years before. She’d been sixteen then, and the high point of her fresh-man year had been the secret trip she’d made with Madge over to Cottonboro to get their first prescriptions for birth-control pills.

  “Well,” he stammered, “for the sake of argument you’ll have to agree that Ed Pinyon is the most eligible bachelor in Meredith County. He’s young, handsome, wealthy, and he wants you. But you’ve rejected him. I like Sam Farley. But Sam is a … a real man, Andy, and …”

  “Yes?” She could have helped him, but seeing Buck floundering out of his element was too good to miss, and she held her tongue.

  “Damn it, Andy. What I’m trying to say is that I think I understand.” Buck’s cast came down to the floor with a thud. “I understand you’re two adults who might want to … be together.”

  “ ‘Be together’? Yes, Buck. That’s true. Sam told me that the second time I saw him, and the third, and every other time as well. And I guess it’s no secret that I’m attracted to him. I just don’t quite know how to handle that. I know he is only passing through, and I’m tempted to … be with him. Lord, I can’t believe I’m actually standing here and telling my own father that I want to be with a man.”

  One thing was clear, Andrea thought as she witnessed Buck’s attempt to be a modern parent, her feelings about Sam Farley must have been written all over her face when she’d walked back down the hill after they’d made love by the spring. She turned quickly to the watercooler and pushed the button. A high stream of the icy liquid filled her mouth and ran down her chin.

  “Buck, he has some crazy idea that we’re going steady. He’s courting me. Are you sure I ought to do this?”

  “Andrea, the only thing I’m sure of is that if you’re going to cook supper and make yourself look like something other than a police officer tonight, you’d better get started. By the way, I won’t be home until very late. Otis and me are getting up a poker game down here, and I’m thinking I’ll just—” he paused, shifted his chair uncomfortably, and finished in one quick spiel, “I’ll just sleep in Brad’s bunk in the back.”

  Andrea took an uneven breath. The old dear. He was offering her the house and Sam, without his interference. She swallowed hard, gave Buck an emotional kiss, and headed out the door without answering.

  The steaks she’d laid out that morning we
re thawed and ready for seasoning. She put the potatoes in to bake. One of Louise’s homemade cheesecakes was in the refrigerator, and a plate of chocolate-chip cookies was on the counter. Andrea turned on the window air conditioner and waited for its breath of cool air. First she’d take a shower, and then she’d finish the salad while the steaks were broiling.

  She undressed and studied her body in the bathroom mirror before stepping into the icy spray. The cold water didn’t help. Sex and passion were words synonymous with Sam Farley. She felt a shudder of desire ripple up the calves of her legs, and she hugged herself. Just the thought of Sam brought him into the glass cubicle with her, and she felt a shameful flush of heat spreading through her lower body.

  You’ve already decided that you want the man. Quit worrying your body into a frenzy. Hang on to him for as long as he’s here. What does it matter now? You’ve let him go too far, and you can’t take it back. You might as well enjoy the game.

  Andrea stepped out of the shower, dried herself, and pulled out the only garment she owned that could be called provocative, a sand-colored jumpsuit with a low neckline and a gold zipper up the front.

  She carefully applied her makeup, giving her eyelids a touch of shimmering bronze, and added an extra coat of mascara to her lashes. She left her dark hair hanging softly across her shoulders. He wanted wicked—she’d show him wicked.

  What she ended up with made her uncomfortable. She had the jumpsuit off and a pink print skirt halfway up her thighs when she heard his knock on the door.

  “Andrea?” She could hear his footsteps inside.

  She groaned. “Oh no.” Knowing Sam, he’d be in the bedroom in no time.

  Quickly she pulled out an eyelet blouse from the chest, stuffed her feet into watermelon-colored sandals, and grabbed a handful of tissues as she left the room. She was Andrea Fleming of Arcadia, Georgia. She was a country girl, and there was no point in trying to deny it.

  “Just a second.” She scooted into the living room, raising her hand toward her face as she moved, intent on wiping her eyes clean. Then she saw him, and a hot sharp jolt caught her in the pit of her stomach.

  His arms were filled with flowers, all kinds of flowers—wild black-eyed Susans and Queen Anne’s lace, zinnias, lilies, and roses of every color. They were tied up in ribbons attached to dozens of colored balloons with shining streamers reaching to the floor. If she hadn’t recognized his voice, she never would have known it was Sam behind the blinding brightness.

  “Hello, darlin’.” He let go of the flowers and watched as the helium-filled balloons floated grace-fully toward the ceiling, bouncing and dancing like butterflies. He turned back to Andrea and took her slowly into his arms. “Do you like them?”

  “I’m absolutely speechless,” she said as she surveyed the masses of flowers floating across the room. “Absolutely speechless. Where’d you get them?”

  “I spent all morning picking them, everywhere, along the roads and in the fields. All the ladies in Arcadia have been very generous. Louise Roberts kept them in water and helped me tie them in bundles. The balloons? Now they were harder. Madge finally had to get them in Cottonboro.”

  “You mean everybody in Arcadia knows?” She was stunned. Nobody had ever done such a beautiful, foolish, sweet thing for her before.

  “By now? I’m sure they do.” His hair, which he’d tried to comb, was curling wickedly about his face. His mouth crinkled into an easy smile, and Andrea felt joy bubble up inside her.

  There was a fragrance in the air that came from the man, not the flowers, a warm earthy smell that made her think of the spring and rain. As he looked down at her, the simple pleasure of their closeness seemed to intensify.

  When he kissed her, the tingle that started in her toes shot up her legs in a crazy pinball-machine pattern.

  Sam released her reluctantly, leaning back to hold her with arms clasped loosely behind her waist.

  “Are you surprised, Stormy girl?”

  “Astonished.”

  “Are you glad to see me?”

  “Yes.” The words choked in her throat as the gentle motion of the balloons bumping against the ceiling gave her the sensation of whirling in space in a kaleidoscope of vibrant color. Andrea held on to Sam as if the floor she was standing on were really shifting beneath her feet.

  “Come here, Cleopatra!” This time his lips possessed her with a demand that dazzled her with its intensity. His hands captured her and pressed her against him, shaping and molding her body into the corresponding contours of his own.

  “Cleopatra?” she asked stupidly.

  “Isn’t that who you’re made up to be?”

  “Oh!” Andrea jerked herself away, looking from the tissue in her hands back to the amused expression on Sam’s face. “Oh. I was about to wipe that off when you came in. I don’t normally go around looking like this.”

  “Too bad, it’s very sexy, and I thought it was all for my benefit.”

  “No. I mean yes. I changed my clothes, and then you got here before …” She knew she was babbling.

  For the first time she really looked at him. His boots were polished to a soft shine. He was wearing skintight sharply creased jeans, a pale blue cotton shirt with no collar. The top three buttons of his shirt were open, revealing a mass of thick black chest hair.

  “Ah, Stormy, I wouldn’t want to think anybody else ever saw you all starry-eyed and breathless, looking like this. When you’ve been kissed, you glow all over.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “I can feel you burning right through these clothes.”

  “No, it’s this makeup,” Andrea said, pushing her hands against his chest. “Wait for me.”

  Andrea went through her bedroom and into her bathroom. She closed the door behind her and leaned breathlessly against it. Never had she seen anything so remarkable. Sam Farley had created an enchantment in her house that was so much more than sex and passion, so much more than she’d ever dreamed of. She was afraid to know how much his gesture affected her. Dreamily she leaned there for a moment, looking at the woman in the mirror. He was right. She did glow all over. Inside and out.

  • • •

  They were sitting at a small table lit by fat pink candles, surrounded by the flowers and the streamers from the balloons. The steaks were charcoaled to perfection, though the process had taken much longer than it should have because Sam kept kissing her, and the baked potatoes were dripping with melted butter.

  Sam was eating, cutting his meat and spearing forkfuls of potato as he watched Andrea pick at her food. He was glad she’d chosen simple meat-and-potatoes. He’d eaten enough fried chicken and squash in the last week to last him a lifetime.

  He took a sip of iced tea. “Time for talk now, darlin’. I think that I can find enough work in Arcadia to pay off the taxes on my house, Andrea.”

  “You mean you’re going to stay?” Andrea bit her tongue. That hadn’t sounded quite right. She was surprised at his statement, not dismayed.

  A faint hint of uncertainty touched his face, and Andrea got clumsily to her feet. What had she expected him to say? “Maybe I’ll just cut down these roses and put them in water. They’re so much more fragile than the others.”

  She hadn’t made it into the kitchen before he’d caught her and turned her back to him, the confusion masked now by the grimness in his face. The stern opaqueness in his eyes was back, and for a moment he said nothing. He simply looked down at her for a long time without touching her.

  “Don’t walk away from me again, Andrea. I told you I don’t know much about getting to know the kind of woman you are, and I’m stumbling around like a fool. You may not appreciate my effort, but don’t belittle me for trying.”

  “No, you’re wrong. I wasn’t cutting you off.” She’d hurt him. That was the last thing she’d expected. For a moment she wanted to open her arms and gather him close to her.

  “Why are you having so much trouble dealing with my efforts, Andrea?”

 
“Because,” she whispered, “because you’re going in a direction that I’m afraid to follow.”

  “Then you lead me.” He groaned, catching her arm and turning her to face him. “I don’t want to screw up, and I’m floundering. You know I want you, Andrea. I couldn’t conceal that if I tried, but I’m not going to overwhelm you, not until you’re sure.”

  He groaned again, swallowed hard, and stepped back deliberately. “Damn, you make it hard on a man. I mean … What I meant is … I don’t think that damn air conditioner is working right.”

  Andrea laughed weakly. “Sam, the thermostat and the thermometer both read seventy degrees. I’m afraid it’s us. We’re simply too hot. Whatever it is that happens between us is too powerful to control. It scares me. It can’t last.”

  “Maybe not, darlin’ but I’m willing to let go and find out. Let go, Andrea darlin’, and run wild with me.

  “Oh, Sam, you keep saying that. And you don’t know how much I want to, but it’s just not logical.”

  “Do you think it’s ‘logical’ that I inherited a house in rural Georgia when I’ve never even owned a piece of furniture of my own? Is it ‘logical’ that I’m almost arrested by a lady chief of police with the most incredible body I’ve seen since I looked at the statues of the goddesses in the encyclopedia when I was in fifth grade? Ah, Andrea, I want to take you out on that porch, sit in the swing, and kiss you till we both want to do wicked things we can’t possibly do in a swing.”

  “What about the dishes?”

  “Later. Much later.”

  The fat creamy moon they’d watched before looked as though a stand of trees had bitten a big chunk from its center. One very tall pine made it seem tilted at one corner, as if the yellow globe was giving them a half-salute before disappearing behind the trees. They stood for a moment on the porch. Sam held her in his arms with comfortable possessiveness. They breathed in the summer air, now fragrant with the scent of the honeysuckle vines at the end of the porch.