“I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine. I’m just going to sleep, if I can.”
He nodded. “I’ll check on you later.”
“That would be nice.”
Going into the kitchen, he shuffled through the cabinets and found some crackers. Finding some ginger ale in the fridge, he poured a cup. He put the essentials on her nightstand. “I hope you feel better soon.”
“That was sweet,” she said, acknowledging the small offering. “Thank you.” She felt sleep taking her over, worn from her body expelling dinner. “I need sleep,” she whispered.
“Right. If you need anything...” He left his number for her, brought her the phone, and headed back to his apartment. Everything inside of him wanted to sit on her sofa and be nearby in case she needed anything, but he respected her space and went back to his own home.
Chapter 10
When morning came, Sam rolled over to find the crackers and ginger ale where Christopher had left them. She’d slept through the night, thankfully. Getting up, she tenderly padded across the floor, heading for the bathroom.
She was a sight. At least the urge to toss her cookies had passed, so there was that.
Turning on the water for a shower, she adjusted the temperature. The hot, steamy water felt heavenly on her body. Relaxing into the massaging pitter patter of the cascade falling, she closed her eyes. She could easily spend the entire day here. After last night’s fiasco, this was bliss.
Leaning against the cool tiled wall, her weary body reminded her that she’d had a rough night. Oh god, Christopher saw me like that. The thought horrified her.
After enough time had passed to feel human again, Samantha turned the water off. She tied her hair up in a towel, and wrapped another around her body. She wasn’t expecting the wave of exhaustion to rush at her, though at least the nausea was gone. She made it as far as her bed. Crawling across the comforter and then under it, she closed her eyes, sinking into the comfort of a nap.
Two hours later, she woke to a knock on the door. Grabbing her robe, she looked through the peep hole. Crap, it was Winnie. She forgot she was coming over.
Opening the door, Sam apologized to her friend. “Hey, come in. I’m not sure I’m up to go out this afternoon. I was sick last night, and I’m feeling pretty worn out.”
“We can stay in,” Winnie offered.
“Would you mind?”
“Not at all. I’ll just stay for a little while, and then you can rest again. Unless you want me to go?”
“No, if we can stay in, I’m good. I might not be great company, but I could use the distraction. Let me go brush my teeth. I’ll be right back.”
Winnie dropped her bag, a bold, patterned Vera with quilting, and sank into the sofa cushion. Her long hair drooped past her shoulders, unassuming. It’s as if was blending into her, having nothing interesting to say. Sam always thought she should cut it, or try a new style, but Winnie would whine, saying this was easy. She didn’t have the interest in standing in front of a mirror with a hairdryer, brush, curling iron, flat iron, hair spray or whatever else it took to maintain some fashionable hairstyle.
She was a simple girl. She liked basics, and no muss and fuss when it came to getting out the door. She wasn’t made for things like lacy bras. A basic cotton bra in white did everything she needed, and she wouldn’t be caught dead spending an arm and a leg on something nobody even sees.
Now a bag...people see a purse. It’s not that Winnie cared to impress anyway, but that was her tiny bit of expression when it came to style. It almost became an obsession, finding the right bag. Though in all honesty, it was one of the only things she could shop for that didn’t depress her. Buying clothes only reminded her she was dowdy, and she filled a dress like a sack full of potatoes. But a bag...it could be fun, colorful, serious, come in different styles, and when she found the perfect one, she got the same high other women got buying new clothes. It was a pick me up, without the depression of a fitting room and seeing that everything you put on doesn’t make you feel any better about yourself.
“So, how did your date go?”
Sam was pulling her hair, which had dried funky from sleeping on it while wet, into a hair band. Settling onto the sofa, she put a couple of diet sodas on the table for them. “It went well, and then he walks in and finds me puking my guts out. That was real sexy.”
“What did he do?”
“He sat with me,” her voice softened, “and rubbed my back, and helped me with my hair.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Yeah, it kind of was. Then he put me to bed, and left me crackers, ginger ale, and his number on my nightstand.”
Winnie was happy for her friend. “I like this guy already.”
Samantha thought about what she’d just said, realizing what he’d done for her. “I should let him know I’m okay.”
“Sure, call him.”
“I’ll just be a minute. I want to say thanks.”
“No problem.”
Sam got his number, noting that she needed to add it to her contacts. When he answered, her voice was tender and warm. “Hey, it’s Sam. I just wanted to thank you for last night. I’m sorry about the other stuff. I can’t talk right now, I have a friend here, but I wanted to check in.”
After a couple of minutes, she hung up the phone. Her smile spoke volumes.
“You like him, huh?”
She nodded, a grin still spread on her face. “Yeah, I really do.”
“I’m happy for you. I hope it goes well.”
“Thanks. How are you doing?” Sam sat back down next to her friend.
“I’m good. I’m better off without him. Let’s be honest, he wasn’t husband material.”
Sam knew it was sour grapes, but she let it go without commenting on it.
Winnie sighed. “I’m going to be an old maid with a house full of cats one day.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Men aren’t exactly beating on my door to ask me out.” She looked down, hiding the shame in her eyes. “Let’s be honest, I’m not the one they want to ask out. I’m the one they hope won’t make eye contact with them.”
Sam could hear the pain in her voice, even if she was pretending like it wasn’t a big deal. Winnie played it tough, but she had a heart just like the rest of them.
“Not that it matters. Now I won’t have a stupid guy telling me what I can or can’t do. Besides, I have plans. I want to travel, and some guy would just slow me down.”
“Winnie?” Sam was cautious, but knew Winnie would respect her more for honesty than for pandering to her in some condescending way.
Winnie looked up.
“I know it hurts, but there will be somebody else. Have you thought about taking a class, or trying one of those meet-up things for singles?”
“Guys take one look at me and run the other way. I’m rough around the edges, but I’m a good person, right?”
“The best.”
“I don’t know how to do all that dress up stuff anyway. I mean, I need to be me. If they’d just give me a chance, they might see how much I have to offer.”
“Just because you change your clothes or hair doesn’t mean it changes who you are inside, but it may make you feel better,” Samantha offered, trying to help.
“I need a man who likes me as I am. I know you don’t get that. You and Becky are stylish, but me...it’s like proof that I’m okay just the way I am. I need that. Prove to me that you like the real me, not some package you see on the outside.”
“I understand.”
“I was never good enough, you know? I’ve been picked on most of my life. Even my own family was constantly telling me I didn’t try hard enough or I didn’t look the right way, and I guess I rebelled into this ‘take me as I am’ girl.”
“I get that, but if you ever decided you want to try a new way, you tell me and I’ll help. I love you as you are, and I’m sure when the right guy comes along, he will too.”
“Let’s just hope
I’m not too old and senile to recognize it when it happens.” Winnie changed the topic. “So, tell me about your date.”
“Oh, we went over to Pru Thai. It was really good, but something didn’t settle right with my stomach. It took me by surprise, and next thing you know, I’m hovering over the toilet, begging for mercy. But before all the icky stuff, he was a total gentleman, pulling my chair out, opening the car door. You know the drill. It was really nice. Our conversation was relaxed and comfortable, and then we came home.” Sam sighed.
“And?”
“And he kissed me. It was really nice. We were in the hallway, saying goodnight. Winnie, I swear to god, if he came in with me, I would have taken him to bed, but I’m trying to take things slowly. Well, not that we’d have gotten that far, because within a few minutes after I said goodnight, the wave of nausea hit and I went running for the bathroom.”
“So other than the getting sick part, you had a good night?”
“Great night, but yeah, the getting sick part sucked big time.”
The girls talked for another hour before Winnie headed out. “You should rest. You look tired.”
“Yeah, closing my eyes sounds kind of nice.”
“I’ll let myself out.”
Sam moved to the bedroom, and curled under the covers. Another small nap wouldn’t hurt.
Chapter 11
The following morning, as Sam was heading out for the first of her appointments, she bumped into Chris at the elevator. “Hey.”
Christopher smiled on seeing her. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thanks. I slept half of yesterday.”
“You probably needed it.”
“Yeah. Either way, I feel like myself again. I can’t remember if I thanked you for dinner.”
He eyed her playfully. “You’re welcome. Turns out, I chose a meal that made you violently ill. Are you sure you want to thank me?”
“It wasn’t your fault.” She laughed. “Either way, I did enjoy our date. It was the rest of the night I didn’t enjoy so much.”
“Maybe we could try the date thing again. We can see if all of our dates make you sick, or if it was a one-time thing. Maybe you’re allergic to me?”
“Wow, I hope not. You’re a good kisser.”
Christopher smiled. “Thanks.”
The gaze lingered between them. When the elevator reached the lobby, Chris didn’t want to get out. Work beckoned, but he wanted to spend the day with Sam.
“Can I see you later? We can order pizza and hang out a bit, unless you’re not up for it.”
“That sounds just about perfect.”
“Only ‘about perfect’?”
“You left out the part where you’ll kiss me again.”
“Oh, there will definitely be kissing, count on that.”
“Now it sounds perfect.” Sam wasn’t ready to leave, but had an appointment to get to. It took everything to break away from him. “I’d better go.”
Christopher looked down at his watch. “Yeah, me too.”
He was usually punctual, but he’d give his left arm for ten more minutes with Sam right now. As she walked to her van, he was mesmerized. Her full hips swayed with her as she walked. Watching her ponytail bob up and down with each step, he was smitten.
It was as if time stood still; the day barely moved forward. Each appointment felt longer than the next. She was sure someone was playing a trick on her, because the clock had barely changed. After what felt like forever, Sam finished the last of her jobs. She wanted to have time to freshen up before seeing Christopher.
She was pretty sure “doggy smell” wasn’t an aphrodisiac. Sure, there were some weird aphrodisiacs out there, or things that claimed to be aphrodisiacs like oysters, or rhino horn, or whatever the heck else, but “doggy smell” never made any official list.
She noticed his car wasn’t in its usual spot and was relieved she had time to grab a quick shower. Cleaning up, she felt fresher and put on her favorite sweatshirt, the one where the sleeves were just a little too long. It was the right kind of baggy, letting her swim in it and snuggle up. She closed her fingers around one of the ribbed cuffs near her wrist and hopped onto the sofa to flip through email.
Watching the clock, she knew Chris should be home soon. He was pretty much like clockwork when it came to his schedule.
The familiar sound of his door closing next door made her smile. Living this close would be convenient, unless things didn’t work out. Then it would just be awkward. One day at a time.
When he knocked, she scrambled to her feet. “Hey,” she said in a syrupy sweet voice as she opened the door.
“Hi, beautiful.”
“How was your day?”
Chris hung his head. “Horrible.”
“Oh no! What happened?”
“It went too slowly. All I could think about was cutting out of work and getting home sooner.”
“You’re sweet.” Would it be too forward to lean in and kiss him? Was it too soon?
Sam wanted to kiss him. She wanted to feel his arms around her, and his lips on her own. Be a lady; don’t throw yourself at him.
Christopher wanted to kiss her. He wanted to reach out and take her in his arms. Forcing himself to wait, he remained a gentleman. He didn’t want her to think he was just here for the wrong reasons.
Sam’s ringlets fell around the hood of her worn, soft sweatshirt. Christopher pictured looping one around his finger, feeling the silky softness of her hair against his skin. She hid her curves in the baggy sweatshirt, but he knew what was underneath. Her breasts heaved against the material of her top. He had to make himself look away. Those kinds of curves could drive a man wild. The shorts she’d put on were black and made of a stretchy material. They hugged her hips and plump, cushioned thighs, grasping each perfectly. The view made Christopher want to run his hands over her round bottom as she turned to walk to the sofa. Be a gentleman.
“So, what kind of pizza do you like?” Chris asked.
They settled on the basics this time, and opted to try something more adventurous in the future.
“When I was younger, I used to want all these crazy combinations. My mom would roll her eyes and tell me I wouldn’t eat it. Now, it’s not so crazy to see ham and pineapple, or barbecue chicken on your pizza, but god forbid I wanted something more than extra cheese or pepperoni.”
Chris laughed. She was easy to talk to, so comfortable.
“I should tell you about the time...” Her phone rang, cutting her off. “Oh, sorry. One minute. I need to take this.”
Sam picked up her phone. “Hello?”
After a moment or two, she jotted a note down, and then apologized for the interruption. “I’m sorry; it was one of my clients. She was trying to decide between moving her appointment up or back later this week because her work schedule changed. Anyway, where were we?”
“You were telling me how much you wanted me to kiss you.”
The flush warmed her cheeks. “You must have read my mind.”
“I’m good like that.” He leaned over and slid his hand up under her hair, gently letting his fingers rest across the nape of her neck. Tilting his head just slightly, his lips parting, he brushed them against Sam’s mouth.
Samantha closed her eyes, breathing in his essence. As his mouth found hers, she melted into the tender kiss. Each kiss grew a little more heated. His wet mouth on hers, their tongues exploring...her head grew dizzy with lust.
Sam ran her fingers along the razor stubble at his jawline, loving the light sandpaper feel. It was those tiny details that she adored the most; the ones that screamed full-blooded male. His broad chest and shoulders that felt like a brick wall, his bulging biceps, and that little bit of five o’clock shadow made her tingle inside when she looked at him.
Pulling back, Samantha suggested they call in their pizza order for delivery. She knew if she didn’t stop herself now, she’d move too fast. She always moved too fast. She wanted to take her time and get to
know him better.
Jumping into bed was almost a defense mechanism. If she slept with a guy, maybe he’d stick around. Most got what they wanted and didn’t come back, but it almost became a habit. When they lied to her and told her they cared, for a moment in time she felt special. She knew better, she wasn’t stupid, but sometimes just being desired for a little while was better than not at all.
“One more kiss.” He whispered, wanting to taste her again.
“Just one,” she warned. Her mouth was already on his. It took everything inside not to straddle his lap and get lost for hours. “Okay. I’m hungry.” She needed to stop this train before it ran off the tracks.
“I’m hungry for more of you,” he teased.
“Christopher. Food, we need food.”
“You’re right, you’re right. You call the order in, I’ll buy.”
“Sounds good.”
When the pizza arrived, they sat and shared stories while eating.
“So, there I was, no more than fourteen, trying to form a band. Of course, I can’t sing, my drummer is really bad, and our guitar player had just gotten his first guitar for Christmas. He’d barely learned how to pluck out a song. It was all about the girls. We figured by the time we got famous, we’d be better and score all the babes.” He laughed remembering the time.
“What was your band called? Will you sing for me?”
“You don’t want me to sing for you, trust me! Try to hold back your excitement. We were known as The Ornamental Platypus.”
Sam couldn’t hold it, and the dam broke. “The Ornamental Platypus? Where did you come up with that?” Laughing, she held her side. “Was that your idea?”
“We took our two favorites and combined them.”
“Oh, I know I’ll regret this. What were the two names?”
“The Ornamental Mermaid and Platypus Station.”
Sam made a face. “I’d have gone with Platypus Station.”
“Right? That was my choice, but no, Ricky Bender insisted on having some artistic notion, and needed the word ornamental in there.”
“Ricky Bender made a mistake!”
“I know! The name totally held us back.”
Crazy About Curves: 10 Luscious Reads Page 30
