Serving Up Trouble

He groaned and set his forehead to hers. “Damn it, I want to be mad at you. Don’t ruin it for me.”

She slid her arms around him and hugged him close. “I won’t.”

He groaned again, but his arms came around her, too, warm and sure and strong. He slid his jaw against hers. “I want you to be safe. Do you understand that? God, you’re really driving me crazy.”

“I know.” She sank her fingers into his hair and lifted her face to see his. “I don’t mean to. I love you, Sam.” Gently she put her fingers to his lips, before he could react. “I just wanted you to know.” Kissing him one last time, she grabbed her purse and left the truck.

Chapter 11

Heart pounding, palms damp with sweat, Sam watched Angie walk away from him toward the cafe.

Say some thing to her.

Anything.

But he didn’t, and she vanished inside without a glance back.

She loved him. Just like that. She loved him.

And she’d said it so…sweetly. So damn easily. So genuinely his heart clenched again, even tighter.

He nearly ran a red light. Twice. Cars honked at him. Lifting an apologetic hand and feeling like an idiot, he told himself to get a grip. He was a cop. He had important things to think about.

But nothing came to mind. Nothing at all.

Because nothing was more important than this, than her, and he knew it.

Angie smiled, laughed and talked during her shift, as always. But unlike always, her mind was else where.

She kept picturing the mixture of panic and befuddlement on Sam’s face as she’d left him that morning. Kept thinking about the reaction she’d hoped for, and hadn’t gotten, to her proclamation.

Well, she should have known better. She did know better.

And yet oddly enough she didn’t regret a thing.

After her shift, he was there waiting for her, just as promised. She’d expected no less. He got out of his car and opened the door for her. Got back in and drove.

All wordlessly.

She expected him to take her home. She expected him to get rid of her as soon as humanly possible.

She didn’t expect him to drive up to a nice outdoor barbecue place, where they got a table with such ease she knew he’d made reservations ahead of time.

Which made this…premeditated.

The nerves kicked up a gear.

The live band played too loud for talking-probably not a bad thing. The music was good, and though there was much unspoken between them, Angie felt…happy.

They danced.

That he even knew how to do so startled her, but they found their own rhythm together. And when, during a slow number, he rubbed his jaw to hers while holding her in those amazing arms of his, her eyes welled.

“Don’t,” he whispered in her ear, his hands moving slowly up and down her back.

“No, it’s okay.” She managed a watery smile. “It’s just that…I really like this.”

“Yeah.” He bent, put his lips to hers for a gentle, slow kiss. “Me, too.”

He took her to his place after that, still quiet as he led her into his bedroom. To his bed.

She lifted her arms for him, but he didn’t follow her down, not immediately. First he lit candles. Put on some soft music. Kicked off his shoes, moved close and pulled off his shirt.

He was beautiful, and in spite of everything, she ached for him. Then slowly, so slowly she ached all the more, he slid off her clothes, taking care to kiss every inch of flesh he exposed, until she lay before him, open to his gaze, quivering and tight with need.

He kicked off the rest of his things and Angie could only sigh because Sam by candlelight was the most magnificent thing she’d ever seen. Hard and sleek, he was poised over her, the muscles in his arms quivering as he tried to hold back.

But she didn’t want him to hold back. Not ever. So she arched up and slid her body to his. Chest to chest, thighs to thighs, and every where in between, until he let out a harsh groan.

Towering over her, he looked down, his eyes aglow with need and affection and hunger…and the same bafflement that always broke her heart.

He still didn’t know what to do with her.

But she knew what to do with him. “Love me,” she whispered, pulling him down to her, opening her legs to make room for his body, loving how he felt between her thighs, all hard and throbbing. For her.

Still, he tried to hold back. “Angie-”

“With your body, Sam. That’s all. Just love me.”

Closing his eyes on a groan, he blindly searched out her mouth and did just that.

Loved her until the first hint of dawn.

The next morning, Sam masked his panic well, but Angie still felt it and, this time, ignored it. After his telling her they hoped to close in on the case by that night at the latest, she walked into the cafe alone.

Her boss was chopping up a red pepper, singing at the top of her lungs to her favorite country station and keeping an eye on the boiling pot on the stove.

“Whew, it’s a chilly one.” Angie hugged herself and moved closer to the stove, wondering if she would ever feel as warm as she had in Sam’s arms. Wondering if she would ever get the chance to feel them around her again.

Josephine turned down the radio and gave her a long once-over. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh…nothing.” Angie put on her apron and tried to believe it.

“And nothing, I suppose, is why your chin is dragging on the ground.” Josephine stirred the pot, which emitted a delicious scent. “You didn’t get attacked in a bank again.”

“No.”

“Your apartment?”

“I wasn’t there last night.”

“Ah.” Josephine stirred some more. “You were with your wow cop.”

Angie looked out the window into the bright sun spearing through the fog and sighed. “He’s not my cop.”

“You make love last night?”

A little laugh escaped Angie. “That’s a bit personal, don’t you think?”

“Did you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Honey, if you’re not sure, then I’m really worried about you.”

“I made love,” Angie said quietly. “I’m just not sure he did.”

“Ah.” Josephine stirred some more and nodded. “You think it was just sex for him.”

Angie watched a couple walk down the street in the early-morning light, holding hands, laughing. Kissing. And said nothing because of the lump in her throat.

“Honey, you know, I don’t like to push.”

That got a laugh out of her. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh, stop. Maybe I push, just a little.” Josephine sniffed. “But I care about you.”

“I know.” Angie shoved away her melancholy and turned to smile. “I know. And I’ll be fine.”

“That man, he cares about you. Very much.”

“He doesn’t want to.”

“He’s afraid.” When Angie looked at her in surprise, Josephine nodded. “Just because he’s big and tough doesn’t mean he can’t fear. Matters of the heart terrify him. You need to be patient, that’s all. And don’t ever give up, not on some thing you want this much.”

She did want him. With all her heart she wanted to believe it could happen, but there seemed to be so much