Mr. January Page 8

  His smoldering gaze dropped to her breasts. Samantha glanced down at herself. Despite the thick wool, she could see the points of her nipples. She crossed her arms. “Don’t forget your hat this time.”

  “I won’t.”

  He scooped it off the coffee table, and they headed silently toward the door.

  Nothing had been resolved or settled—except that they’d generated a lot of heat and longing. Samantha had no idea what the future held for them, or if there even was a future. According to Adam, probably not. Of course, she didn’t want anything long-term, either.

  Did she? The common sense part of her brain warned her that no, getting involved could hurt William. Where had it been an hour ago?

  Stunned by the depth of her passion, she opened the door, relishing the crisp, cold air that rushed over her hot skin. “Good night, Adam.”

  “I’ll call you soon.”

  He brushed his lips over hers, a quick and sweet good night, before he disappeared into the darkness.

  *

  Monday morning, Adam drove toward Guff’s Lake Medical Clinic for his nine-thirty doctor’s appointment. His ankle had just about healed, and his wrist got better by the day. With any luck, Dr. Fowler would clear him to get back on regular duty.

  Traffic was light, and his mind wandered. To Sam and Saturday night.

  Fooling around with her had given him a taste of her passion, which he wanted to thoroughly explore. Her responsiveness and eagerness turned him on. Even now, recalling the little sounds of pleasure she made when he’d touched and tasted her breasts made him hard.

  He shifted in his seat. “Settle down, hear?” he ordered his unwanted erection.

  Despite an almost constant hard-on, courtesy of Sam, he was in great spirits. So good that not even the old man had dampened his mood this morning.

  Not about to wonder at what—or who—to thank for his positive frame of mind, he turned into the clinic parking lot, pulled into a vacant slot, and killed the engine.

  He rode the elevator to Dr. Fowler’s office on the second floor. As usual, patients packed the waiting area. Adam checked in and found a seat. Minutes later, Martha, one of the doctor’s assistants, called his name. He followed her to an exam room.

  She’d worked here forever, at least since the good doctor had given Adam a physical and the all clear required by the Guff’s Lake Fire Department when he’d first applied for the job. He couldn’t tell her age, but she looked a couple years older than Dr. Fowler.

  “How you doing, Adam?” she asked as she took his weight and blood pressure.

  “Not bad. I’ll be even better if the doc clears me for regular duty.”

  “I hope he does. Be good, y’hear?”

  He answered her standard refrain with his usual reply. “You know I can’t promise that.”

  As he’d anticipated, she shook her head and grinned. “You’re hopeless. Have a seat on the exam table. Dr. Fowler will be in shortly.”

  Not long after she exited the room, the silver-haired doctor entered with Adam’s chart. He gave a brisk nod then washed his hands. “Good to see you, Adam. Let’s take a look at your wrist.”

  Having ditched his bandage in the car in order to look all healed up, Adam held out his arm.

  “Any pain?” Dr. Fowler asked, prodding the area of the sprain.

  Yeah, but for the sake of returning to work, Adam stifled a wince and shook his head. “Feels okay.”

  The doctor jotted something on Adam’s chart and then checked his ankle. “That ankle looks good as new.”

  “It doesn’t bother me at all anymore. Can I go back to regular duty?”

  “If you had a less rigorous job, I’d say yes, but you still have quite a bit of bruising and swelling on your wrist. I’m not going to clear you just yet.”

  Well, hell. Should’ve skipped cleaning the old man’s gutters. When he found out about this, he’d no doubt make some snarky comment about Adam being a wimp or other more-derogatory names—unless he’d forgotten about this morning’s appointment. Not likely, as Adam had reminded him.

  “How much longer do I have to wait, doc?”

  “Come back in a week. Meanwhile, baby that wrist.”

  Adam left the clinic in a far worse mood than when he’d entered. The Captain had given him half the day off for his appointment, and he still had several hours before he needed to be at the station. If he was smart, he’d go home and hit the books.

  Instead, he headed for Sam’s.

  Chapter Ten

  ‡

  As soon as Samantha stepped through the door after dropping William at kindergarten Monday morning, she made a beeline for the coffee pot. She’d already had her quota—one cup after stumbling into the kitchen to bake, and a second while she and William made their deliveries. Today, she needed an extra caffeine boost. She filled a mug and set it the microwave to heat.

  While she waited, she thought about pulling the heavy café curtains open to let in the cheery light. But she didn’t have the energy.

  If only she’d turned in early last night. Instead, scouring the kitchen and assembling the needed ingredients for this morning’s baking had taken longer than usual—thanks to the tantalizing thoughts of Adam Healey that had distracted her.

  His big hands, strong and callused, yet gentle and knowing. His mouth, his hard, muscled body…. Her nipples sharpened, and a longing ache bloomed between her legs.

  “Stop it,” she ordered herself in a stern voice.

  What was the point of fantasizing when she didn’t even know if she’d ever see him again? So she’d reasoned with herself countless times in the last twenty-four hours. For all the good that did.

  The microwave beeped. With a weary sigh, she sat down with her coffee and the recipe box she’d started in eighth grade home ec, when she’d first discovered the joys of cooking. In no time, she found the cookie recipe she wanted.

  As she set out the butter to soften, the doorbell rang. Expecting an order of supplies from one of her mail-order wholesalers, she wiped her hands on her jeans and hurried to the door.

  Instead of finding the usual balding delivery man on the porch, she found Adam. Dressed in faded jeans and his bomber jacket over a black T-shirt, he looked fit and handsome.

  “Hey,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb.

  Talk about your heart-palpitating pose. His avid gaze swept over her jeans and sweatshirt, warming her wherever it lit. There went her nipples, tightening with longing. Again.

  Absently, she fluffed her hair. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the doctor’s?”

  “I just left there. I was going to call, but I decided to stop by instead. Mind if I come in?”

  The last time he’d waltzed inside, Samantha had ended up enjoying the most arousing kisses and caresses of her life. Kisses and caresses that messed with her mind, keeping her from much-needed rest and making her want to throw caution to the winds, ignore common sense, and let physical desire lead the way.

  So yes, she minded. Or so she attempted to convince herself. With her rational mind doing battle with her let’s take up where we left off body, that proved challenging.

  While she silently duked it out with herself, Adam exhaled heavily. It wasn’t a happy sound. He looked so disappointed, Samantha couldn’t send him away. She stepped back and gestured him inside.

  “I’m guessing the appointment didn’t go as you’d hoped,” she commented when he shut the door behind him.

  Or maybe he regretted what had happened Saturday night and wanted to apologize and forget all about those kisses and caresses. Which would be for the best. Only Samantha didn’t want to stop. Score one for body over rational mind.

  Adam shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the knob of the coat closet. “The doctor wouldn’t clear me. He scheduled me for another exam next week.”

  Not a word about the other night. Relieved, she let out a breath of her own. “Eventually, he’ll let you go back.”

  “He’d better
.”

  “You still have to be at work for light duty, right?”

  “Not until noon.” Adam sniffed the air. “I smell coffee and treats.”

  Something in his expression reminded her of an eager little boy, and she couldn’t help laughing. “Down, big guy,” she teased. “I baked at o-dark thirty this morning, and delivered every last scone, muffin and cinnamon roll to my customers. There’s nothing left over to feed you. As for the coffee, I made it hours ago.”

  She hated how his face fell. “Although I do happen to have a few treats stashed in the freezer, things that taste good, but aren’t pretty enough to sell. I can offer you a raspberry muffin or an orange scone and a cup of reheated coffee.”

  “How about a scone and a muffin with that coffee?”

  “You got it.”

  While she warmed his snack in the microwave, Adam plunked into a chair at the kitchen table. “Did I mention that my pop goes crazy for your muffins?”

  “You did.”

  “Lately, they’re about the only thing he enjoys,” he grumbled.

  “Well, he is sick.”

  “True, but happiness has never been his strong suit.” Adam nodded at the recipe box and changed the subject. “What’s that?”

  “Recipes for personal use.” She traded the plate of warmed treats for the mug of cold coffee and reset the microwave.

  When Adam had his food and drink, she sat down across from him.

  “This is exactly what I needed,” he said around a large mouthful. “My mom had one of these recipe boxes, but I don’t remember that she ever used it. Her idea of cooking has always been takeout, pizza, or frozen dinners.”

  That sounded terrible, but the woman had lost a son and suffered through what sounded like an unhappy marriage. Not everyone found cooking and baking to be healing and comforting. Samantha did, and when Jeff had walked out, she’d filled the house with delicious meals and desserts.

  Adam scanned the card she’d pulled out, and licked his lips. “Double chocolate cookies—sounds great.”

  The man had a serious sweet tooth.

  “They’re William’s favorites. I’m bribing him with them. If he takes a nap today, I’ll make them and he gets to help. That means licking the spoon and the bowl.”

  “Hell, for a chance to lick the bowl, I’d take a nap. He’s a lucky kid.”

  “As I remind him daily.” She smiled. “Did you enjoy Nate’s band the other night?”

  “I didn’t go. After I left you, I didn’t feel like being around other people.”

  His eyes went bright and hot. Samantha’s most sensitive parts started to hum, and she forgot all about how exhausted she was.

  “I keep remembering what we did,” she admitted.

  “Same here. Are you sorry?”

  “No. Are you?”

  His eyes locked on hers and shook his head, and every cell in her body strained toward him.

  “But I would like to know where this is going.” Although at the moment, she couldn’t think beyond her immediate physical desire.

  “I can’t get you out of my head, Sam. How good we already are together.”

  He reached across the table and traced her bottom lip with his treacherous thumb, almost obliterating what was left of her common sense.

  “I want to be inside you.

  Yes! her body shouted. But she wasn’t ready for that just yet. “It’s too soon.”

  “Copy that.” He dropped his hand. “We could still fool around.”

  She could no more turn that tempting offer down than stop breathing. The instant she nodded, Adam stood, moved around the table, clasped her hands, and pulled her to her feet. She melted into his arms.

  *

  Sam was warm and soft, and she smelled amazing. Holding nothing back, Adam kissed her. She responded with an eagerness that blew him away. A certain part of him jumped to attention and demanded release. He wanted to head straight upstairs, bury himself in her sweetness, and put an end to this physical torment.

  But she’d just told him she wasn’t ready. Still kissing her, he backed her toward a cluttered trestle table in the hallway. Impatient to put the table to his own use, he set her purse on the floor and cleared what was left with the sweep of his hand.

  Sam jerked back. “What are you doing?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” With a teasing smile, he lifted her up and set her down.

  “I’m all intrigued.” She pulled him down for a sizzling kiss.

  He stepped between her thighs, gratified when she tilted forward, bringing them as close as a fully-clothed man and woman could get. It wasn’t close enough. Adam ground into her. Her fevered moan almost did him in. About to embarrass himself, he stepped back.

  “I can’t get enough of you. Your mouth. Your breasts.” He tugged her sweatshirt up and pulled it over her head.

  She unhooked the bra herself. As he pulled one tight nipple into his mouth, her head fell back against the wall. Giving her pleasure turned him on, and he took his time on each breast. Restless, she shifted in his arms. Adam undid the button on her jeans. The subtle tension in her body gave him pause. She still might not be ready for what he had in mind.

  He hesitated. “You okay with this?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Working the zipper down, he dipped inside the elastic band of her panties. When he reached the place where they both wanted him to be, she was already wet for him. She raised one hip and then the other, tacitly encouraging him to get rid of the jeans and panties.

  For a long moment, he looked her over, this gorgeous woman naked and aroused.

  Eager to get back to the good stuff, he knelt between her legs, pulled her toward him and parted her folds to fully reveal her sex. “You are so beautiful,” he said, hearing the hoarseness in his own voice.

  “Down there? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Trust me, you are.”

  He leaned in and flicked his tongue over her most sensitive part. She made one of those catchy, breathy sounds that drove him mad.

  “You like that,” he said, pausing to look up at her.

  “A lot.”

  He slid two fingers into her slickness. “And this?”

  “Dear God, yes.”

  He went back to business. Moments later, she grabbed onto his ears, moaned, and let go.

  On the edge himself, Adam almost came with her. Somehow, he held back. He would save that for when he was deep inside her.

  As unsatisfied as he was he couldn’t help but grin when he handed her the sweatshirt and pushed to his feet.

  For a moment, she disappeared inside it. Then she slid off the table. The shirt hung about halfway down her bare thigh. Sexy.

  “I enjoyed that almost as much as you did,” he said. Every shuddering moment.

  She blushed, deepening her already-flushed skin. “I haven’t been with a man in a while.” She stepped into her panties and then pulled on her jeans.

  “How long?”

  “Since a few months before Jeff walked out.”

  “That’s a long time.”

  “True, but until now, I haven’t been interested.”

  Adam was pleased that she’d chosen him to end her self-imposed celibacy.

  She eyed his erection straining his fly. “That looks uncomfortable.”

  It was. “I’ll survive.”

  He gathered her purse and the scattered books and notebooks from the floor, and returned all of it to the table. “It’s about time for you to pick up William.”

  Sam glanced at her watch. “I didn’t realize…. I’d better scoot or I’ll be late.”

  They left the house together. In the cold, gray morning, the breath flew from their lips like double smoke plumes, before trailing away.

  They were almost at Adam’s car. He moved in to kiss her good-bye, but she gave her head a vigorous shake and pushed him away.

  “Not out here, when Betty Randall could drive or walk by at any time. A
s much as I love the woman, she tends to have a big mouth, and I don’t want to do anything to fuel gossip that could hurt William.”

  No sooner had she spoken, than a cream-color sedan turned onto the street.

  Samantha groaned. “Speak of the devil.”

  Her gray-haired neighbor slowed, waved, and pulled to a stop. “More plumbing problems?”

  “Plumbing?” Adam repeated.

  “She saw you at the door the day you replaced the washer in the faucet,” Sam said under her breath. She offered the woman in the idling car a bright smile. “Hi, Betty. This is Adam Healey.”

  Betty checked him out. “I knew I recognized you when I saw you before. You’re not a plumber, you’re Mr. January.”

  “Yeah, and I know my way around a leaky faucet. Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” She batted her lashes.

  “Adam’s on his way out, and so am I,” Sam said.

  “I have to go, too. I’m sure I’ll see you again, Adam. Bye, Samantha.” With a knowing look, Betty drove away.

  Shaking her head, Sam accompanied him to the 4Runner. “Did you see the way she flirted with you?”

  “Oh, I noticed. She has to be twenty years older than my mother. Women just can’t resist me,” he joked.

  Sam laughed. “You are so full of yourself!”

  Liking that happy sound, he shrugged and grinned. More than anything, he wanted to brush the bangs from her eyes and kiss her until, once again, they were both half out of their minds. But he had to get to work, and she needed to pick up her son.

  “I hope Betty didn’t get the wrong idea,” Sam said. “When William takes his nap this afternoon, I’m going to call her and straighten things out.”

  “A cinnamon roll and a muffin might help.” Adam opened his car door. “I don’t have clock in until ten tomorrow. Why don’t stop by before work.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Before he even pulled away from the curb, he was anticipating his next visit.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‡

  When Jana picked Samantha up for knitting Thursday morning, she seemed a little down.

  “I know that sad face,” Samantha said. “Don’t tell me that you and Jon—”