FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Ashley Ladd

1

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

By

Ashley Ladd

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Ashley Ladd

2

© copyright December 2005, Ashley Ladd
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright December 2005
ISBN 1-58608-768-1
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com




This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s
imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or
events is merely coincidence.

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3

Chapter One

“Waste not.” High school science teacher Samantha Wagner whistled

merrily and peered into the swirling mass of pickle juice at the bottom of the
jar she’d just emptied. Grinning at her treasure, she poured the remaining
contents into a larger container for use in class experiments.

Munching on the last pickle, she curled up on her couch and graded

test papers. When a drop of the juice plopped onto a paper, she scowled and
wiped it off. Moaning, she shook her head at some of the dillies the students
had concocted as she colored the exams with seas of red. Obviously some
foreign language must have spewed from her mouth during her lectures or
why else weren’t all of her kids getting A’s and B’s? What normal kid
wouldn’t comprehend her pickle juice allegories? She couldn’t make things
any easier or more interesting.

Rat-a-tat-tat.

A huge grin spread across Sam’s face. Only one person ever knocked

like that. Dylan… “Come in.”

“You eating those nasty things again?” Dylan wrinkled his nose and

tugged one of her curls.

“Bite me.” Glaring into his impish eyes, she took a giant bite of the

cucumber which was getting a bad rap.

“Ouch!” Dylan jumped back as if she’d suddenly spurted fangs.

“Have mercy, woman.”

Grinning wickedly, feeling as if her eyes glowed red, she licked off

the juice that had the audacity to dribble down her chin. “Uhm, sorry.” She
wasn’t in the least sorry. Just like she imagined he wasn’t sorry that his ultra
low-slung tool belt was the makings of many naughty fantasies …

“Yeah. Sure.” Dylan stared at her mouth, too long, too intently.

She squirmed and wanted to kick herself for her devilish impulse. A

high school drop out white boy wasn’t her type, and more over, he was her
best friend, so why was she flirting?

Best friends were off limits. In particular he was off limits as she

wasn’t into multicultural relationships. Normal relationships were hard

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enough to keep going, but the added burden of meshing cultures while trying
to keep her own alive, was too much to handle.

Embarrassed, she rose to her feet and tossed the bad boy into the

trash. “Better?”

Dylan’s blue eyes twinkled and his mustache twitched with mirth.

“Not particularly.”

Her neighbor’s lawnmower erupted and Dylan looked in the direction

of the sound.

Blessing the distraction, she followed his gaze. Surprised, she glanced

down at her watch. “It’s not the crack of dawn on Sunday morning, is it?”

Dylan’s brows wiggled as he ambled out onto her appalling excuse for

a porch. Then he frowned and pointed at a piece of splintering wood.
“Hurricane season’s coming. I should shore those beams up before a storm
hits.”

Alarm jolted her into perusing her mental calendar. Her forehead

furrowing, she joined him and peered at the dry rot. “You really think so?
Grandmother let the house go toward the end.” And Sam didn’t have
sufficient funds to fix it up. Her heart falling, she chewed her bottom lip.

“It’s either that or risk losing part of your house. It won’t stand up to a

category three. A two might even do it in if the wind hits it wrong.” Slipping
a tape measure from his tool belt he took measurements and muttered to
himself.

“How much do you think it’ll set me back?” Her pride sagging, she

tried to choke back the financial worries. Hello second job…

“We’ll talk about that later.” Sighing heavily, Dylan whipped off his

baseball cap and ran his fingers through his silky hair. “We’ll get the
supplies and I’ll get it done for you.”

Squaring her shoulders, she faced off against him. She tilted her head

to look up the four inches into his eyes. “I already owe you a ton of favors.
I’ll pay you the going rate. Either tell me or I’ll hire someone else.”

Dylan froze in place for several seconds and then he treated her to an

inscrutable gaze. “I said I’m going to do it. We’ll work something out.”

Pursing her lips, she let the subject drop--for now. She’d repay him

somehow. The man was too nice for his own good.

Navigating to safer territory, she asked cheerily, “Soda? Lemonade?”

She opened her fridge stocked with a variety of drinks.

“Got any orange?”

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5

Hating the stuff, she stretched her lips down. “No. How about lemon-

lime?”

“That’ll do.”

“I was about to whip up a little something for dinner. Would you like

to join me?”

“To go with those pickles, huh?” Dylan sauntered back into her house

and closed the door.

Sam wrinkled her nose at him and stuck out her tongue as she

carefully handed the tin can to him. “For that I’m going to hold you down
and make you eat pickles.”

In four long strides, Dylan closed the gap between them, and towered

over her. He took a swig of his soda as he stared down at her with narrowed
eyes. “Promises, promises. Moi was mean to you? I fixed your wheels and
I’m going to fix your house. Now how is that being mean to you?”

Playfully, she rapped the big old teddy bear on his broad shoulders. “I

take it back. I won’t make you eat pickles. That just leaves more for me.”

“What’s this obsession with pickles?” He spread his palm on the

refrigerator door and closed it. “Did you eat this many pickles while you
were still with Jamal? Or is this some kind of mental breakdown?”

Breakdown?

He thought that slimy green toad of an ex-fiancé had

reduced her to going on a pathetic pickle binge? How wretched did he think
she was? “I need more pickle juice for my science experiments,” she said, as
if he’d understand. She also looked at the little bulge around her tummy in
disgust. “And they’re very low in calories.”

“Science experiments? Those poor kids.” He clucked his very erotic

tongue, stealing her breath.

She thwacked him again, and ordered herself to breathe. “Those lucky

kids love me and my pickle juice, thank you very much.” She nodded very
forcefully to back up her point. For good measure, she anchored her fists on
her hips and stood stiffly at parade rest.

His gaze heated up and slid over her stomach. “Don’t tell me you’re

dieting, skinny.”

Skinny?

She’d left skinny behind at least twenty pounds ago and was

closing in on pleasantly plump. The average human had enough fat on them
to make seven bars of soap, so that meant she must have at least nine or ten
bars of soap hanging on her frame. Having a full time man had made her
complacent about her weight among other things. It was time to get back in
fighting shape now that she had rejoined the rank of single women. Besides,

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she felt funny traipsing around her new gym lugging a spare tire around her
belly while all the bathing beauties modeled their flat abs. Still, bless his
soul, she loved him even more for lying so outrageously.

“Well?”

“You told me not to tell you.” She pulled a diet root beer off the

counter and popped open the top. Then she slid a glass around him to get ice
from the automatic ice dispenser on the fridge door. At least he wasn’t
blocking that.

“So? Can you stay for dinner?”

“Can’t. I’m late for another job. I just had a moment to stop by.” He

began to back away.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” He chanced a couple steps back toward her, but

his hesitancy hung rife in the air. “Jamal seems to think you’re avoiding him.
He wants you back, you know.”

Highly annoyed, she pasted a smile on her lips. She knew all right and

she didn’t want the conniving cheat back. Since Dylan had been Jamal’s
friend first, she couldn’t very well go slamming the dude, however. “Jamal
and I have gone our separate ways and I’m extremely pleased with my life at
present.”

He waited for her to say more and when she didn’t, he pursed his lips.

“Well, don’t be surprised if he calls or shows up. You’re warned.”

She adopted her widest, most innocent smile and beamed up at him.

“Thanks. Do you think he likes big, mean, son-of-a-bitch attack dogs?”

Dylan frowned. He ran his hand through his rumpled hair and

squashed it down with his baseball cap. “Ouch! Is that a hint for me to keep
out, too?”

She rolled her eyes up at the silly man. “Do you really think I’m

psycho enough to sic a dog on my best friend?”

Merry mischief danced in his eyes. “Well, you are pretty psycho....”

Picking up a meat cleaver, she chopped a slab of her roast with zeal.

“Just when it comes to cheating, no good exes.”

Eyeing her warily, Dylan backed up. “Uh, I have to vamoose. I’ve got

a side job waiting. I’ll price the supplies and let you know how much they’ll
run.”

“Coward,” she mumbled under her breath, trying to toss off the

weight of his stare. She sliced and diced until she’d made hamburger instead
of stew chunks. “I thought you had to skedaddle?”

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“What are your plans tonight?” Dylan ambled to the front door.

Watching her closely, his hand hovered on the knob.

“Oh, something absolutely fascinating and scintillating--I’ll watch a

romantic movie and cuddle up to my test papers. Fun, fun, fun,” she
drawled. “Just me and Denzell.”

He grimaced. “A chick flick and homework. Sounds like a blast.”

“Okay, we both have work so I’m officially booting you out. Ta ta.”

She wiggled her fingers at him.

He tilted his cap. “You and Denzell have fun.”

“Don’t go cutting off anything important.” She paused for a strategic

moment. “You’ll need all those fingers to fix up my porch.”

* * * *

Dylan stopped outside Samantha’s door, feeling a tug to turn around

and join her for dinner, chick flick or not. Hoping that he’d misread the time,
he glanced down at his watch and grimaced. “No time. I’m late.” The
thought of the bronze beauty cozying up to Denzell by her lonesome settled
like a rock in his stomach.

When he arrived at his job twenty-five minutes later, he hammered

with more ferocity than necessary. He slammed two by fours around making
such a ruckus he drowned out his taunting thoughts.

Halfway through the job, his cell phone rang and with a sigh, he

flipped it open. “Dylan here.”

Jay, the realtor who’d contracted him for this job said, “Hey, dude.

How’s the repair coming? Can you squeeze nine more jobs into your
schedule? How fast can you get to them?”

Nine?

“Whoa! How fast and how big are you talking about?” His need

for cash warred with his need for rest. Sam’s porch flashed in his mind and
he tried to calculate how much time that would take.

“They need to be repainted and re-carpeted before they can go on the

market. Some need roof repairs and drywall work....”

Holy …

Dylan massaged his aching neck. “You need a serious work

crew for those kinds of jobs.”

“Well, hire yourself some help and we’ll work up a contract. I’ll fax

the specs to you. I need these done yesterday. I don’t like being caught with
our pants down in hurricane season.”

And he didn’t like the idea of Sam’s house being substandard, either.

But he couldn’t afford to piss off such a good client. “I know a couple guys
that do good work. I’ll see if they want to make some extra cash.”

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“Good. Call me soon as you look that over.”

The phone went dead and Dylan shook his head as ideas bombarded

him. As he rolled paint onto the new drywall, he considered his options
aloud. “One--I turn down the work because I’m too busy. Two--I ask a
couple friends if they want extra work and I split the money with them.
Three--I hire a few guys and start my own company....”

Start my own company.

He’d be a contractor.

His gut clenched. Could a high-school drop out run a successful

business? Although he knew his carpentry stuff, he couldn’t operate a
computer. He didn’t know if he was ready to give up the safety net of his
day job. But the appeal of being his own boss, of building a future, lured
him.

When he was finally able to drag himself into the shower a few hours

later, he scrubbed the hardened paint out of his hair. Anxious to draw up a
budget and a business plan, he fiddled with it till the early hours of the
morning. He rubbed his bleary eyes and tried to stifle the last in a long line
of yawns. “Hot damn! This might actually work.”

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9

Chapter Two

Samantha blinked against the harsh South Florida sun. She couldn’t

believe her eyes. Dressed to kill, Jamal lounged pretty as you please against
her front door when she pulled into her driveway after school the next
afternoon. Sunlight glistened off his shiny shorn hair, and a diamond stud
winked on his ear.

“Of all the days for the fool to show up. I should’ve gotten that attack

dog.” She grimaced down at the pickle juice staining her slacks from the
accident in her sixth hour physics class. She reeked of vinegar and blood
trickled down her leg compliments of the broken jar.

Already in a foul mood because of a rotten day at school, she sat in

her car and waited for awhile before turning off the ignition, hoping he’d get
the hint to go away. When he didn’t, she considered backing out and going
to the bookstore to chill for an hour or so.

This is my house, dammit!

She slammed out of her car and marched to her door, trying to ignore

the pain in her leg. It couldn’t compare to the knife still stabbing her in the
back from the idiot’s countless indiscretions and mountainous lies. “We
have nothing to say. Kindly get off my property.”

Jamal tried to gather her into his arms, but then stepped back and

scrutinized her. He wrinkled his nose and waved his hand around as if to
clear the air. “What have you been up to, baby?”

She glared at the freak and hitched her purse higher on her shoulder.

“Murderous science experiments. You can be next if you don’t have the
sense to leave this minute. Or if you dare call me ‘baby’ ever again.”

“You didn’t blow up the lab again, did you?”

Ooh!

How she wished his swollen head would explode!

Totally frustrated and ready to drop from exhaustion, she tried to push

past him. “For your information, not that it’s any of your business, I haven’t
blown up a science lab since my college days. I’m very careful with the
safety of my students, thank you very much. I’m the only casualty today.”

He blocked her path. “Tsk, tsk. You’re not cut out to play mad

scientist. One of these days, you’re going to kill yourself.”

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Red hot anger boiled over and she wanted to stuff him in a test tube

with some volatile chemicals. Even more so, she longed to get inside and get
under a hot shower. “Go away. Shoo. I’m damned if I’m going to blister
under the hot sun and listen to any more insults.”

“Here, let me get the door for you, baby. Prepare dinner for you.”

She made the sign of the cross over her chest, wishing she had fangs

to bare. “Get back. What did you do with the real Jamal Everett and where
did you stash the body?”

“Ha ha. Not funny. Can’t I just pamper my fiancée after a hard day of

work?”

Her leg throbbed and she wished she’d let the school nurse bandage it

instead of trying to be strong. Before she watered her flower garden with
blood, she had to escape inside. “If you still had a fiancée,” she said so
sweetly, her words dripped with saccharine.

“But, baby. It was a huge misunderstanding. It wasn’t what it looked

like ...”

Eager to get away from the incorrigible womanizer, she twisted the

doorknob and tugged. She could still see him on the couch with that slut, her
lipstick all over him, her perfume so thick in the air, she couldn’t breathe. “I
caught you red-handed. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going inside my house
alone

.”

“Don’t you mean our house?”

“No, I mean my house. I inherited it from my Grandmother Bennie.

My name is the sole one on the deed.”

Jamal winced. “But, baby....”

Sick of his wheedling, she poked a finger at his chest. “Don’t ‘but

baby’ me, Jamal Everett. I wouldn’t believe you now if you told me the
Pope was Catholic. There’s nothing you can say that I want to hear.”

A battered pick-up truck screeched to a stop in front of Sam’s yard

and the ignition cut off with a wheezing whine. The vehicle’s door slammed
loudly and Dylan loped out, whistling happily. When he spied Jamal, he
stopped dead in his tracks, eying them with caution. “Hey guys. I didn’t
mean to intrude. I didn’t see your car, dude.”

Samantha peered at her driveway. Dylan was right. Jamal must have

hidden it down the road so he could wait in the bushes to ambush her.

“We’re in the middle of something important. This isn’t a good time,”

Jamal said, scowling deeply.

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11

Thank God for white knights in old beat up pick-up trucks, even if

they were splattered with paint and covered in grease. Dylan had excellent
timing. One more minute alone with the abrasive jerk and she was likely to
dump pickle juice over his head and really make him regret coming to see
her. “Jamal was just saying goodbye and leaving. Please come in, Dylan.”

“But you said alone....”

“Goodbye, Jamal.” Hissing, she shooed him out of the yard, past the

mangrove of palm trees that swayed lazily in the sultry breeze. “Scat.”

Jamal turned on his new loafer heel, his expression forlorn, calculated

to gain his friend’s sympathy and make her look like the guy in the black
hat. “I’ll never give up on us, baby. I love you with all my heart. We’re
meant to be together.” He poured all his trademark charm on her as he
backed all the way to his car, his limpid gaze devouring her.

The charm that had once melted her knees now left her cold. He’d

used that sleazy allure on every female young and old. Sickened, she turned
her back on the deceitful scoundrel, happy in a perverse sort of way that he
no longer tugged at her heart. “Tell it to someone who cares,” she called
back, unlocking her door and ushering Dylan inside.

“You’re being a little harsh on the guy, don’t you think?” Dylan

stared at her with censure in his eyes.

Annoyed, she flung the door wide and stood back as a myriad of

miniature geckos scampered out of their path and into her flowering garden.
“You’re free to go and take your buddy’s side.”

Dylan sighed and the sun shining through the tall hedges dappled him

as he shook his head. “I just wish you’d hear the guy out. He’s heartbroken.”

Violins whined in the background. Well, he should have thought of

that before breaking her heart by sleeping with Keisha, Taynia, Tiffany, and
three-quarters of the city.

Exhausted, her leg sore, she didn’t have an ounce of sympathy to

spare for a man who hadn’t been worried about busting her heart into a
million pieces. Lightheaded, she steadied herself against the closest wall lest
she fall in a lump at Dylan’s feet. “Make yourself at home. I-I have to take
care of something.”

“Samantha,” Dylan’s voice swam in her head as his face grew foggy

before her. “Is that blood?”

She winced as she looked down at her blood-stained creamy satin

slacks. “I dropped a jar in my last class and a sliver of glass got me. It’s just
a little surface scratch.”

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Dylan frowned and ushered her further inside. “A little scratch

wouldn’t bleed like that. Sit on the couch and prop up your leg. Where do
you keep your first aid stuff?”

The man was crazy!

“I’m not getting blood near my white furniture.

I’m going upstairs to shower.”

“You can take a sponge bath. We need to get that cleaned up and

bandaged.” He followed her up the stairs, and crowded into her bathroom.
There was barely room for her and the six-foot giant amidst the towel racks
and wall cabinet stacked with a million bottles of perfume and make-up.

She lifted her brow and stared pointedly at the door. “Do you mind? I

have to get out of these filthy clothes.”

Wicked laughter leapt in his eyes but he didn’t budge. “Won’t bother

me in the least. I’ll be happy to help you undress....”

She slapped his hand away even as her heart skipped several beats.

“Excuse me? You dare, you pull back a bloody stump.” Or would he?
Delicious tingles raced up her spine at the vision of Dylan peeling off her
slacks … and more.

Down, girlfriend!

She could not muck up the best friendship of her

life. She couldn’t give her mother a heart attack by having lusty fantasies
about a white man much less following through on them. After watching the
debacle of her sister’s marriage to one, she didn’t have the courage to tangle
with that culture clash.

“Shush. Just lay back, relax, and let Doctor Dylan fix you up.” He

handed her a glass of water and two pain tablets.

“Dr. Dylan, huh?” Tickled, she admitted to herself that it had a really

adorable ring. Almost as adorable as the look of concern on his face as he
tended to her. When his fingers brushed against her, sparks of electricity
flared up her arm, and she clung hard to the vision of her sister’s anguish but
she was sinking fast, in danger of drowning.

His gentle fingers continued to minister to her, caressing her leg.

“How’d you manage to mangle yourself? Did you blow up another lab? Did
a wily test tube get you this time?”

Red hot anger exploded in her, much more deadly than any mad test

tube and her fists clenched. Totally exasperated she gritted her teeth hard,
and ground out, “I didn’t blow up a lab. Neither did any of my students. I
dropped a jar of pickle juice. It broke. I got cut by a piece of flying glass.
End of story. No biggie.”

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Dylan let out a strangled snorting laugh, and then wrangled his

features back into an expression of concern. “Sorry.”

The big dufus almost choked on the word, making her wish he had.

About to go into melt down, she folded her arms across her chest and bit out,
“It appears I should be doing stand up comedy instead of teaching science. I
fail to see what’s so funny about my pickle juice.”

“You’re the pickle queen. I’ve heard of substituting chocolate for sex,

but pickles?” He shook his head all the while his fingers worked magic on
her leg, cleansing the blood and applying the dressing.

Snorting, she shook her head at her daft nurse. He’d finally, truly lost

his mind. “Only you would think of using pickles as a substitute for
chocolate.” Or sex.

He tugged her hair, something the ultra charming Jamal would never

do to a lady. “Not me, darlin.’ If I was in charge, that stuff should be buried
with the rest of the toxic waste.”

She counted to ten under her breath, trying to keep herself from

ripping off his head. Inhaling deeply, she forced herself to calm down. For
Pete’s sake, they were arguing over pickles! “So what’s up? Did you just
come over to put down my poor innocent pickles or is there a more nefarious
purpose to your visit?”

He stood and rocked back on his worn gym shoes. “Can’t a friend just

visit a friend?”

They could, but lately he’d been too busy just to drop by without a

good motive. “Sure. But what’s up with you?”

He stroked his mustache and frowned. “Haven’t we become cynical?”

He moved into the hall.

Finally, she could breathe. She followed him out and led the way

downstairs. When she reached the bottom step, she turned and blocked his
descent. “Well?”

“I had a few minutes between jobs and I thought I’d take a better look

at that porch. May I?”

“Knock yourself out.” Her desire to strengthen her house warred with

her worry over her pathetic bank account. She moved to the side so he could
pass her and she trailed him outside. A haze of heat hit her in the face and
she hurried to flick on the ceiling fan which thanked her by moaning and
groaning.

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Mumbling to himself, he took out a small notepad from his pocket and

scribbled in handwriting about as bad as her physician’s. “That fan’ll have to
be replaced before it falls on your head.”

“Wonderful.”

When the fan started to shake and the light flickered, he turned it off.

“I’ll have to check the electrical wiring another day when I have more time.”

“Stupendous.” She subtracted money from her mental checkbook and

came up in the red.

He craned his neck to look at the ceiling beams. “Yep, those are

rotted, just like I thought.”

Her heart plopped to her feet and she massaged her pounding

forehead. “So I have termites?”

“That or weather damage. All this humidity decomposes our houses

faster than if we lived up north. It’d be advisable to have a termite company
take a look.”

She swallowed a sigh. All this fun in the sun wasn’t what it was

cracked up to be. “Sounds like I should never have left Ohio.”

“Sure, if you’re in love with winter-long blizzards.” He stuck his

finger through a hole in the screening. “Did Jack the Ripper used to live
here?”

“Ha ha. Grandmother Bennie used to let her birds fly around.”

“Uhm ... Looks like a lot of them probably flew away.” He stuck his

hand through another larger hole and wiggled his fingers.

She nodded and shrugged. Probably.

“Hold the tape measure right here.” Dylan moved her bicycle out of

the way, and unlatched her hammock before stretching out the yellow tape.
Squinting, he jotted down another novel-worth of numbers.

With each flick of his pencil, her heart fell another notch. “It’s bad,

isn’t it.”

His lips moved as he flipped pages and made check marks. Finally, he

looked up and said, “Yep. But it’s only going to get worse if you don’t fix
it.”

“Great. Can it wait a few months?” Better yet, a few years?

He whipped off his Marlins baseball cap and scratched his head.

“You’d be playing with fire, especially down here in hurricane central.”

She sank to a lawn chair and rested her chin on her hand. The gentle

breeze blowing over the placid canal cooled her face and she lifted her heavy
weave off her neck to get the wind’s full effect. Banana tree fronds flapped

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15

lazily by the canal’s edge. Coconut trees stood tall and proud as if they’d
never been touched by anything fiercer than a Tropical Storm. “Fort
Lauderdale never gets a direct hit.”

His gaze followed hers and he rubbed his stubbled chin. “Not yet. I

know you weren’t here for Andrew, but you saw the news about Ivan and
Katrina on the weather channel, didn’t you?”

“If we get a direct hit from something like Hurricane Katrina, the

houses won’t stand up anyway, will they?” She failed to grasp what all the
big fuss was about. Fort Lauderdale hadn’t been hit since the early 1960’s.

“Just humor me. I’ll be back in a few days so we can price the

supplies.” His expression changed and questions filled his eyes. “How about
we go out for a nice dinner afterward?”

Dinner? Like a date?

She gulped hard. She couldn’t exhale and she

gaped at him like an idiot for several heart-stopping moments.

When she tried to speak, she tripped over her tongue that was twisted

into knots. “I-I suppose we could grab a quick bite to eat.”

He bent over and brushed his lips across her brow, sending a frisson

of renewed awareness down her spine. “I’d like to take you somewhere
fancy … romantic.”

Romantic?

Mary, Mother of Mercy …

Now she really couldn’t breathe. Never had a pair of lips felt so tender

and firm at the same time. She couldn’t let herself think about those off-limit
lips. She couldn’t set them up for a painful future no matter how much she
longed to jump up and yell ‘yes’.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” When hurt flashed across his eyes,

she felt like a cad and she rushed to save his feelings. “I like you, Dylan.
Too much. I don’t want to lose my best friend.”

His muscles flexed and a mask shuttered his expression. He linked his

hands behind his back and paced the porch. Finally, he stopped in front of
her and glowered down. “What’s the real reason? Is it that I’m a high school
drop out? And you’re a teacher?”

She started nodding before she could stop herself. When he swore

under his breath, she stood and faced off against him, even though she really
wanted to run and hide. “That’s part of it.”

He swore again and his expression turned black. “Is it because I’m

white? That’s a bunch of bull hockey.”

Pictures of her sister’s tear-stained face flashed into her mind and her

mother’s dire warnings settled in her heart. “It’s not nonsense. Can’t you

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16

see? We’re too different to make a romance work. I’m not just a teacher, I’m
going for my doctorate and I’m going to be a college professor. You don’t
care enough about education to sit for your GED.”

His eyes narrowed and he stood taller. “I’m doing just fine without it.”

She regarded his ripped, greasy clothes and bit her lip. His appearance

didn’t spell out fine. Of course, she couldn’t afford to fix up her porch and
teaching didn’t pay well at her current level, but she had goals and dreams
and a career path all mapped out.

Even if she could overlook his absolute disregard for education which

was her life’s passion, which she couldn’t, there was the other matter. “It
just wouldn’t work.”

“Color doesn’t matter. All that does is that we click.”

“You’re right. It shouldn’t matter, but we live in the real world. I’ve

seen up close what this can do to people.” She shivered at the ugliness of
some people and worse, the danger her sister had encountered on more than
one occasion. If he wanted to worry about something, he should worry about
that more than his mythical hurricanes.

“I thought you were different. I didn’t think those shallow things

mattered to you.”

“That’s just the way it is. Much as we’d like to change it, we can’t.” If

it could have been done, Shantel would have been the one to make it work.
Besides, they had more than one thing against them. All the wishing in this
world wouldn’t change solid scientific facts and it wouldn’t change this.
Black with white spelled disaster.

Knives stabbed her heart and she wished they lived in a different

world with a different formula for love and happiness. Still, she didn’t want
to lose his friendship and feared she might have just done the very thing
she’d tried to prevent. She put a tentative hand on his arm and had to harden
her heart against the pain slashing it to ribbons. “I love you--as my best
friend. You are so very dear to me and I’d die if anything ever came between
us. Please respect my wishes to keep our friendship at the current level.”

Hoping and praying he’d come to his senses, she held her breath and

pleaded with her eyes. “Please,” she whispered when he remained silent too
long.

Finally, he said, “Maybe we’ll stop for a hamburger if we get

hungry.”

The ice in her veins melted and she exhaled. “Cool.”

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17

“I’ll have to check my schedule and see when I can get back. I’ll let

you know.”

“Okay.” She followed him to the front door and waved goodbye as he

drove away. Several moments after he’d gone, she still stared in the
direction of his departure, still feeling the tingle of his lips on her skin. Her
fingers fluttered to the spot and she caressed it. How could a white high
school dropout have crawled so deep into her heart? Why was she even
wasting a single thought on the impossible?

“Fool!” she muttered, wanting to kick herself, wishing she could

reprogram her internal wiring. After she pulled a few weeds from around her
peonies, she ambled back inside and moped around for the rest of the
evening, not getting much of anything done.

She had trouble getting to sleep, too, and no book could keep her

interest, not even a spicy romance. Denzell didn’t even capture her interest
tonight.

She had it! She had to find another man, a real live man and pronto!

That was a sure-fire way to extinguish the illegal lust and longing for Dylan,
to drive him out of her thoughts and dreams. Then they could resume their
status quo of being best friends, like it should be.

Unable to sleep, she set up her laptop. With a few clicks of the keys,

she was signed online surfing for local dating services. She’d find a new
man the modern way. She wasn’t one to hang out in bars. The school board
wouldn’t approve of that anyway.

Google listed several online dating services, but she had no clue

which one to patronize. She didn’t want to plunk down any money just yet,
so she looked for free and trial memberships.

She found one that boasted a no cost membership for its silver service.

She liked the gold membership which provided a lot more options, but she
wanted to see a sample of their wares before committing to anything.

Hunching over her keyboard, thrills chased through her fingertips. Mr.

Right might just be a few more keystrokes away. Or a few Mr. Right Nows.
That’s all she really needed was someone to get her mind off silly,
impossible romantic notions of Dylan. Dating several different men should
really do the trick, and if she just happened to meet her soul mate, so much
the better.

Impatiently, she waited for her password to arrive in her mailbox.

Finally!

A ton of ads popped up on her screen.

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18

“Rock and roll.” Eagerly she read the personal ads of men aged

twenty-eight through thirty-six looking for women her age, and who lived in
South Florida.

Wow!

“It’s was raining men. Hallelujah,” she sang as she danced on

her bed. She’d hit the jackpot!

“Okay, here’s an interesting one.” ‘Very funny college professor who

loves life and making as many friends as possible and helping people when
needed. Have a big heart and a caring disposition. ’ Her heart skipped
several beats and she reread it. Except for being a college professor he
reminded her of her best friend and that wasn’t her goal. Yet again, maybe
this was the type of man she was most attracted to. Big, lovable, huggable,
teddy bears that weren’t too macho to doctor her when she was sick. This
one sounded like he had all the qualities she liked in Dylan with the added
bonus of her love for education.

Wanting to make sure she got her mind off Dylan, she cruised the rest

of the hopefuls, crossing her fingers that she would find a couple more
possibilities.

Here was another interesting candidate with which to while hours

away. ‘I love riding my Harley on weekends …’

“Vroom!” How bad would that be? She’d always longed to try it. That

would surely take her mind off off-limits best friends and cheating ex-
fiancés. She jabbed the keyboard, book marking this gem.

“Ahhh, another interesting prospect.” She mouthed as she read, ‘I love

to play my guitar ...’ She adored men who played the guitar.

‘I have a good time in sunshine or sunset.’ She adored the sunset. In

particular, she loved to swim in the moonlight when the stars came out to
play. Hopefully this brother did, too.

She definitely had no time to waste in contacting some of her

selections. The sooner she met new men, the sooner she’d stop obsessing
over forbidden fruit.

Greedy, salivating, she searched on, wondering if she’d just stumbled

upon Utopia. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? This was a virtual man
candy store.

Ooh mama!

Here was an exciting one. Her toes tingled and the hair on

the nape of her neck stood on end. He looked like a load of fun. ‘I am an
outgoing person who likes trying new things and meeting new people. I
snow ski, jog, workout, bike, scuba dive …’

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19

Her toes tingled. She loved to snow ski and bike. She’d always

wanted to try scuba diving.

Hold everything!

Here was one to try out for sure. He had his kitty in

the picture. And he liked to water ski, go to the Keys and travel. A fellow cat
lover would be good. She wasn’t giving up her cats for anyone. And she
loved to ski, water and snow. It had been ages since she’d done either,
although she’d love to again. This guy was definitely in the running.

Then she spotted another good ad. The man liked to ice skate, bike,

snow ski, travel … And his picture was ultra fine. She bookmarked the ad.

Her fingers itched to write a letter to Dylan or pick up the phone and

tell him all about her plans like she had every night while he’d been
stationed overseas. Disappointment searing through her, her hand stopped
midway and dropped.

Idiot!

She couldn’t discuss any of this with Dylan. They’d been able

to discuss anything until this awkward rigamortis had set in. Since he had
come home, they hadn’t had one really scintillating conversation. And now,
after today’s trainwreck …

Frustrated, she dug her fingernails into the meaty flesh of her hand.

Okay, she was going to stop thinking about Dylan if it killed her! Best friend
or acquaintance, he was not for her.

Forcing her mind to the business at hand, she composed a couple of

perky, quirky emails to shoot off to her choices. Thoughtfully, she tapped
her chin as she reread her email, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate or too
weird. She nit-picked her letter, changing several words, deleting a couple
sentences, and then she erased the whole missive with a jab of her finger.

“Why does this dating game have to be so tough?” Isn’t that why she

hadn’t rushed back into it after the fiasco with Jamal?

A hovering sigh escaped her lips. Now she was being forced back into

it before she did something incredibly stupid like give into Dylan.

She composed a new email, and reread it. Finally, after tweaking it

half a dozen times she sent it into the vast void of cyberspace with a prayer
she wasn’t doing the most foolish thing of her life.

Just as she was about to sign offline for the night, she received a

return email from the music lover, inviting her to meet him for coffee at the
local bookstore. Her nerves quivering with excitement, and more than a little
trepidation, she emailed back that she would love to meet him the following
Friday evening.

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20

She wondered if she should wear a white carnation or ruby red rose in

her lapel or carry a copy of War And Peace so he would recognize her. And
then she felt trite. So she told him she would leave her name with the coffee
shop hostess so they could hook up.

Excitement thrummed in her veins. This was the first Friday night

date she’d had in about forever. It was the first date she’d had in ages.

Good going, girlfriend.

She patted herself firmly on the back. Even if

the man turned out to be a total loser, this was the first step to getting on
with her life.

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21

Chapter Three

Dylan browsed through the books about setting up a small business.

He thumbed through one and then read the back cover. Liking what he saw,
he tucked it under his arm. After he found a couple more decent instruction
manuals, the coffee started to smell good and his feet carried him in the
direction of the café.

Familiar laughter floated to him and his heart leapt. He looked around

and spied Sam having coffee with an unfamiliar light-skinned black man. He
forced himself to breathe normally and act like everything was kosher.

About that instant, Sam spied him and a smile blossomed on her lips.

She waved him over. “Pull up a chair and join us.”

Dylan found a chair and pulled it over. He set his books on the table

and then straddled the ladder back chair backwards.

“I’d like you to meet my new friend Marcus. Marcus, this is my good

friend, Dylan.”

Marcus rose to his feet and corrected, “Doctor Marcus Washington.”

Intimidated by the man’s title, Dylan tried not to show it. Dylan took

the guy’s extended hand, and showed him what he was made of, pleased
when the other man cringed. “Nice to meet you. Do you guys work
together?”

“This is our first date,” Sam said smoothly, standing beside the man,

her eyes guarded. “We just wanted to get to know one another a little
better.”

“Sam’s a rare exotic gem....” Marcus hitched up his twill slacks and

sat down. Then he buffed his well-manicured nails on his slacks.

Tell me something I didn’t know.

Dylan didn’t like this dandy and

wondered what Sam saw in him. “How long have you known Sam?”

Sam paused with her fork full of cheese cake in midair to scowl at

him. “Long enough.”

He downed his coffee and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Funny Sam’s never mentioned you and we’re very close.”

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22

Sam gave Dylan the evil eye and kicked his shin. Then she picked up

the top book on his stack and turned it over and began reading the cover.
“What’s this for?”

“Just doing a little studying.”

She looked up with surprise in her eyes. “Studying?”

He felt like saying ‘Dylan can read. Dylan has brains,’ but he choked

back the reply. Instead he said, “These topics interest me.” He could be as
vague as she. Until he was sure he wouldn’t fall flat on his ass in the
business world, he didn’t want her to know. It would be less embarrassing if
he failed without her knowledge.

Sam slid a narrowed glance at him. “It was so good to run into you.”

He knew that svelte, lethal tone but ignored it. He winked at the pretty

freckle-faced waitress that sidled up to them with a swish of her skirt. “Fill
up my coffee and bring me a slice of what she’s having.”

Marcus leaned forward and covered Sam’s hand with his. “Would you

like anything else?”

Sam smiled charmingly at her date, almost knocking Dylan off his

chair. She hadn’t smiled at him like that since she’d hugged him for fixing
her car, and then he’d had the crazy idea she might be coming onto him.
Was she coming onto this yahoo? It took every ounce of his control not to
snarl.

Sam’s sweet laughter tinkled over him. “Oh no. Scrumptious as that

was I’m watching my waistline.”

He couldn’t believe it when she licked her lips and gazed deeply into

the creep’s eyes. His fist itched to deck the moron and he lost his appetite.
But he couldn’t very well let her know that, so he dug into the cardboard
tasting cake and forced himself to down it. “How’s the car working? Should
I follow you home to make sure you make it? It had an awful rattling sound
in it last time I took a listened. I wouldn’t want you to get stranded.”

Marcus turned a combative gaze on him, drilling his polished fingers

on the table. “Thank you for the offer but I’ll see her home safely.”

Battle warred in Sam’s eyes and she was about to shoot fire from her

nostrils. “What rattling noise? My car is fine. I didn’t hear anything.”

“That loud grating sound it’s been making.” The one he’d just

invented, but he was damned if he was leaving here with the clown. He had
a bad feeling about this dude and would never forgive himself if anything
happened to his best friend. The steam in the air singed him, almost causing
him to spontaneously combust from her fury.

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23

Intense dislike roiling in his gut, he turned to Marcus. “No offense,

pal. But she doesn’t know you well enough to leave with you.”

Marcus stood, and held up his hands. “I’m not dangerous. But to

prove it, I won’t push. By all means, go ahead escort her home. We had
planned to go our separate ways from here until you had mentioned possible
car trouble.”

Marcus kissed Sam on the cheek, and caressed her with his gaze. His

fingers lingered on hers far too long for Dylan’s liking, making him clench
his hands so that he didn’t yank them apart. “I’ll call you later tonight, dear
one.”

Dear one?

The endearment stuck in Dylan’s craw. The other man

couldn’t know her well enough to utter such endearments, could he? If he
did, why had she never spoken about him?

Sam nodded, and smiled back warmly, making Dylan’s heart flip flop.

“That’d be nice.”

What would be so friggin’ nice about it?

“You ready?” He didn’t care that he was rushing her out. Marcus

wasn’t right for her, so she wasn’t missing anything.

Fire flamed from Sam’s eyes and she shot one of her false ‘I’m

pissed’ smiles his way. “Please don’t wait on me. I’ll be fine.”

Dylan wasn’t going anywhere without Sam and he squared his

shoulders and fixed a steady gaze on her.

Sam huffed and mouthed at him when Marcus glanced away, “I’ll get

you.”

His brow lifted and he mouthed back, “Promises.”

Sam just narrowed her eyes and jutted out her chin. Turning to her

date, she softened visibly. “Thank you for the coffee. I had a lovely time.”

Marcus captured Sam’s hand and kissed it gallantly. “Enchantee, my

dear. I hope we can meet again soon.”

Sam giggled and glanced at her date demurely.

Dylan wanted to throw up. Who did the Don Juan think he was?

Well, Sam would see through such false moves. He should have more

faith in her. Science teachers were bright people, even when they were
blowing up labs.

Sam beamed at the dolt. So much for that theory.

“Till later tonight, my sweet,” Marcus said, holding her hand prisoner

for several long moments.

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24

Dylan nodded silently to the other man. Putting a hand on Sam’s

elbow, he guided her out into the muggy August night. The humidity had to
push the heat index up into the high nineties at the very least, unless that was
just his internal furnace blazing.

The rich coffee aroma wafting across the road from the Starbucks did

little to appease him. The backfire of a car on the nearby boulevard better
expressed his black mood.

Freezing him out, Sam just pursed her lips and kept moving forward.

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25

Chapter Four

Chaos raged in Sam’s soul. Dylan’s reaction to her date the other

night still infuriated her. She ached to box his ears for acting like such a
Neanderthal. Worse, Jamal had hightailed it over the following day to
interrogate her about her date.

Rather than go crazy staring at her porch and fuming all over again

about the big lug, she strapped on her MP3 player and took off for the
neighborhood park three blocks down the street. Grinning, she waved to the
friendly old veteran cruising around his newly paved driveway in his wheel
chair. Then she crossed the street to give wide berth to the neighborhood
Doberman that always barked his head off and tried to rip out his chain link
fence to launch himself at her throat.

Still in awe of the palm trees so different from the maple and oak trees

back in Ohio, she reveled in living on the tropical peninsula. She couldn’t
get over the coconuts lying about on the ground, or bananas growing on
trees for the picking.

Getting into step with her music, she walked around the soccer field

five times, dodging ducks and frogs, before running out of steam. She was
tired, but it was a wonderful, exhilarating kind of tired. Looking forward to a
good night’s sleep, she thrilled to the burn in her muscles.

She made her way to the benches but instead her attention was caught

by the swings swaying gently in the evening breeze. Illuminated by the field
lights, they looked magical canopied under palm trees with the first
twinkling stars of the evening shining through. She hadn’t climbed aboard a
swing in years, but she had the sudden crazy urge to climb aboard and pump
her legs until she touched the sky.

Feeling all of twelve again, she claimed a swing. Pushing off, she

extended her legs and arched her back. Moonlight winked at her and the
glorious puff of air ruffled her hair and kissed her cheeks. In ecstasy, she
closed her eyes. If only Dylan was here to push her, to share this with her …

Not Dylan again.

Why not Marcus? Why not Denzell?

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26

Just in case she was having a premonition, she opened her eyes to

make sure Dylan wasn’t standing behind her, not that she’d ever shown even
a hint of ESP.

She was almost disappointed.

Stop that!

she tsked at her fool self.

The man was on her black list for going all Cro-Magnon the other

night and especially for blabbing to Jamal.

Putting a moratorium on all thoughts of Dylan, she closed her eyes.

She pumped her legs strongly to get the blood flowing back to her numb
skull and let herself revel in her childhood pleasure. It was so freeing. So
delightful.

But she tired easier than she had as a kid so she leaned back once

again and let the wind cascade over her, cooling her neck and face.

Then a very male, very disturbing chuckle broke into her serenely

beautiful world.

It couldn’t be.

Hoping she was merely dreaming, or even insane, she opened one eye

carefully and peered up.

Shoot!

An upside down Dylan chuckled at her.

She shut her eyes again quickly in case she’d imagined him. Then she

opened one eye very carefully, hoping she had an unobstructed view of the
Southern lights.

The poltergeist in a tool belt smiled down at her. “Hi, gorgeous.”

Gorgeous

reverberated in her mind.

“Hi.” She suddenly felt feverish. And the world wouldn’t stop dizzily

spinning.

Get a grip.

Of course the world was spinning. She was swinging.

She stopped herself and tried to hoist herself up with some semblance

of dignity despite her wobbly limbs. “What are you doing here?”

He caught the swing in his firm grasp and gazed down upon her with

wickedly passionate mirth dancing in his eyes. “Don’t stop on my account. I
rather enjoyed the view.”

Gulping, she froze, suddenly acutely aware of the view to which she’d

treated him. Wishing she’d worn a turtle neck, she sat up straight and tugged
her t-shirt up as high as it would go.

Before she could jump off, he began to push her. The touch of his

calloused fingers branded her back, and made her sink deeper into a
dizzying, quivering vortex.

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27

“I came by to see you, but you weren’t around. Yet your car was

there. I got worried.”

She tried to keep the shakiness that was everywhere else in her body

out of her voice. “I could’ve been on a date. Or I could have gone out with
the girls from work.”

Dylan looked around pointedly. “Is the good doctor hiding nearby?”

His gaze raked the baseball fields where teams battled and cheerleaders
screamed for victory.

“He’s a PhD, not a medical doctor, so don’t call him that.”

“He commanded me to call him that. Are you seeing a lot of him?”

She squared her shoulders and lifted her jaw a notch. “Who wants to

know? You or Jamal?”

“Does it matter?”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Dylan narrowed his eyes. “To answer your question, I’m not spying

for Jamal.”

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she backtracked. Maybe he was the

clairvoyant one. Unless he’d seen her walk over here. “So how’d you find
me here?”

“I know how much you love to walk. It was a simple deduction that

you might be walking at the park.” A frown tugging at his lips, he looked
around the park. “I just wish you wouldn’t do it alone after dark. I hope you
brought your cell phone.”

“You mean with all the crazies roaming about Coral Springs?” The

only one stalking her, watching her, seemed to be him. Certainly not the avid
ball players engrossed in their games. She’d felt completely safe in this
family-oriented area until he’d snuck up on her and scared her out of her
wits.

He stopped her swing suddenly and dragged her back against his

elevated heat. Whispering huskily in her ear, sending her emotions
catapulting out of control, he challenged, “You calling me a crazy?”

Every cell in her body burned, about to implode. His warm breath

tickling her ear did outrageous, impossible things to her, conjured up
naughty, untenable thoughts. “If the shoe fits....”

“Those are fighting words.” Raspy and seductive, his voice threatened

to intoxicate her.

Tensing, she expected him to exact revenge, but conversely, he

released the swing suddenly, almost dumping her unceremoniously onto her

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28

butt, cooling her off as if he’d dumped icy cold water over her head. Mere
seconds lapsed before he attacked her mercilessly, tickling her.

Disbelief echoing through her, she laughed and struggled to fend him

off half-heartedly. Needing to get back at him, she tickled him, but her
counter attack wasn’t nearly as effective as his onslaught.

“Are you going to apologize for calling me crazy?”

“Not on threat of death.” Breathless, she redoubled her efforts but she

was losing dismally. It was an unfair fight. He had too many muscles and far
outweighed her. He was too strong, much larger, and most of all, seemed to
have an enormous vendetta.

Dylan straddled her, his weight pinning her to the ground, his wrists

holding her wrists above her head. Leaning close to her face, his minty
breath seared her cheeks. His chest grazed her tingling breasts, making her
suck in her ragged breath, reigniting the smoldering wildfire in her veins.

Their gazes locked, and their breath came out in short, punctuated

bursts. Beating frantically, her heart matched the erratic rhythm of his. Her
core tingling unmercifully, she was solely focused on the fact that the
throbbing ridge of his manhood was straining against her with only
millimeters of flimsy cloth of separation. His heat scorched her and, if they
weren’t in such a public place, she might forget herself and give into their
mutual lust. “This is insane.”

“Insane,” he echoed, his lips a hair’s breadth from hers and closing

fast.

Or was that just wishful, delusional thinking? Still, despite her stern

talking to, she ached for him to close the distance, to steal a kiss. Her family
was up in Ohio and would never have to know.

A group of young black men dribbling a basketball chose that moment

to head in their direction and the leader shouted, “I hope you aren’t hurting
the lady! You best be getting your hands off her right this minute or you can
deal with us.”

Panting, Sam twisted hard and yanked away from Dylan before they

got into a dangerous altercation. Her libido would just have to get a life and
find a suitable, safe man to lust after.

Breathing hard, she jumped to her feet, and backed away several steps

before the young man with the nappy hair made good on his threat and his
friends jumped Dylan. “I’m fine, thank you. My friend was just helping me
up after I fell off the swing.”

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29

Dylan’s chest rose and fell heavily and when he opened his mouth to

speak, she shushed him with a stern look. Under her breath, she muttered,
“Let me handle this.”

“Just making sure our sister be cool. You call if you need us.”

“Will do. Thanks.” She didn’t breathe until the basketball players had

moved a safe distance away where they couldn’t hear her conversation.

Turning back to Dylan, she faced off against him. “I don’t think we

should be....” She groped for the least suggestive way to describe their recent
explosive encounter. “Wrestling in public.”

Dylan took his sweet time sitting up much less rising to his feet. He

whipped his baseball cap off and massaged his head as if to stimulate dozing
brain cells. After several moments he let out a hoot of laughter. “It’s okay to
wrestle

in private, then?”

Ugh!

She kicked sand at the obtuse man. “You know what I meant. So

why did you track me down?” Still burning hot, she tried to corral her
wayward emotions and sound normal, like there was anything remotely
normal about their almost kiss. “What’s up?”

Dylan stole her swing and he turned serious. “I came by to pick you

up so we could get the porch supplies.”

“Now?” The crazy man wanted her to climb into a tiny, intimate truck

cab with him after their close call?

He squinted up at the moon hiking higher in the night sky. Then he

checked his watch and grimaced. “It’s a mite late now. I didn’t expect to
have to hunt you down. We could run over tomorrow night.”

Mentally, she checked her calendar. “Can’t. I have a … other plans.”

For some odd reason, she didn’t want to smear her date in his face. He had
no rights over her that way, so what should it matter if he knew about it? But
she didn’t want him to show up in the middle of another date and wreck it
like he had the last one.

A scowl flitted across his face and was gone so fast, she wondered if

she’d imagined it. “How about Thursday night? I could pick you up around
six so we’ll have plenty of time to shop.”

“Cool.” Not really. She was hot and flustered, and if not for the

cooling breeze, perspiration would bead embarrassingly on her forehead.
“I’ll see you Thursday, sixish.” She pivoted on the ball of her heel, anxious
to flee from the scene of the almost crime.

A very firm, intoxicating grip landed on her elbow. “Where do you

think you’re running away to?”

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30

“I’m not running away anywhere.” Breathless, but trying not to show

it, she pantomimed running with her fingers, a duh note in her voice. “I’m
continuing my nightly exercise. I was just taking a breather when you found
me.”

“I’m not letting you walk home alone in the dark. Come on.” He tried

to guide her towards his vehicle.

Stubbornly, self preservation high on her mind, she dug her heels in,

refusing to accompany him. Just who did he think he was? One of those
chauvinistic, macho males that dictated to women? “I walk over here in the
dark just about every night. The park’s full of families.”

“And is your street well lit or full of families? I’m here to make sure

you get home safely.”

Safely?

And who would keep her safe from him? From the explosive

chemistry that was threatening to shake the foundation of their friendship?

Just as importantly, she was a full grown woman who could protect

herself for three measly blocks. She didn’t need a big, macho body guard
just to do her nightly exercise in her nice, safe little burg. She wasn’t about
to cage herself at home just to please him or any man. “I can see myself
home safely, thank you very much.”

Dylan’s rugged lips twisted. “I’ll walk with you then if you’re not

finished.”

Her ire rose and she wished he’d get a clue. “I said I’ll be fine.”

He peered at her intently, making her squirm. “It’s a public park and I

need to exercise, too.”

“Fine. Go for it.” She adjusted her head set back over her ears, turned

on her radio, and set off at a brisk pace not waiting for him. He topped her
by a good six inches at least. His strides would bring him up to her quickly
enough if he truly wanted to walk. Neither did she glance back to see if he
had decided to walk.

A good forty-five minutes later, a long shadow eclipsed hers, telling

her someone was gaining on her. Still, she jumped when someone pulled her
headphone away from her ear and spoke huskily, “Don’t you check to see
whose following you? What if it was a mugger?”

Annoyed, she hissed, “Are you the neighborhood watch?” He was

many things, but not a mugger.

His fingertips brushed her earlobe, shooting tingles down her neck,

and causing her to step off beat.

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31

Was he a pain in her backside, or what? “Because you’re insisting on

being Mr. He-Man, Superman tonight, insisting on protecting me from all
the imaginary bad guys lurking out here just waiting to grab me.”

“But what if I was one of the bad guys?”

Closing her eyes, she shook her head and sighed deeply. “Because

you’re the only one fool enough to bother me, okay?” She wasn’t about to
spell out that she could feel his presence, that her internal radar dial was set
to detect him. She barely admitted that to herself and didn’t like it one bit.

“No. It’s not okay. Did Jamal let you wander around after dark

alone?”

She gritted her teeth so hard her jaw ached. “Jamal respected my basic

freedoms. Besides, I’m in a well-lit, well-populated park.”

“Not back here on the deserted soccer field. Not on your dark road.”

When he still held her headphone, she sighed. Pointing at the very

obvious police station bordering the edge of the field, she said, “I’m well
protected here and my road is very short. I walk in the grass when I see a car
coming. Okay?”

He merely grunted, a very masculine, ogreish sound that didn’t sound

very much like okay.

Too bad.

She wondered … “Are you always this overbearing with women?”

“Me? Overbearing?” His features contorted in perplexity.

“Yes, you.” She punctuated her words by facing him and poking at

finger at his chest.

His fingers trailed down the column of her throat, to her back, and

pulled her against him. He captured her lips in a ravenous kiss, drinking
deeply of her. His broad, calloused hands caressed her back, slipping down
to squeeze her bottom, holding her more firmly against his groin, setting off
a series of small explosions throughout her body.

Her own hands slipped around his neck, and she molded herself to

him, feeling so splendid, so wonderful. Jamal had never kissed her so
masterfully, had never elicited such beautiful, erotic feelings. ... No one ever
had.

Dylan gathered her even more closely against him, plundering her

mouth with his kisses, making her head spin.

She nestled deeper into his arms and drank just as deeply of him,

feeling as if she had finally come home, never wanting these incredible

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sensations to end. She only longed for it to deepen, for them to get closer
still.

Children’s lilting voices broke her bewitchment, making her jump

back. Shocked, she couldn’t believe how wantonly she had just behaved.
Dylan was right, this deserted place was dangerous. Far more dangerous
than he had anticipated. Unless he had planned this…

She backed away from him, needing the distance, not only from him,

but from her own emotional turmoil. “You’re right. It is dangerous back
here.” Way too dangerous. She laughed, trying to make light of the earth-
shattering experience, but to her mortification, it came out brittle.

Dylan’s misery lining his face, he reached for her. “Sam, we should

talk about this.....”

Dragging in breaths, she backed further out of his reach. “There’s

nothing to say. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Visible anger boiled off him as he squared his

shoulders. “Maybe the mistake is ignoring our feelings.”

She couldn’t forget that steamy, erotic kiss … but she would do her

best to ignore it. “Go home, please.” Before she did something much more
stupid.

Mistake or not, she took out the stack of letters Dylan had mailed to

her from overseas. After untying the ribbon holding them together, she flung
herself on her bed and pored over each one. “This can’t be the same man.”
Maybe he got shell-shocked just before coming home.

* * * *

Swearing under his breath, Dylan wanted to kick himself. He hadn’t

intended to kiss her, hadn’t done so lightly. He had poured his heart and soul
into that amazing kiss. Obviously it hadn’t rocked her world as much as it
had rocked his.

Frustrated beyond belief with the stubborn woman and her assertion

for independence, he wanted to shake sense into her. Not to mention
extremely sexy and gorgeous. Especially all sweaty, in her revealing top.

“It’s just won’t work....” She stomped and scowled adorably.

Her adorability in no way dissipated his anger and frustration. They

shared something more special, more precious than a mere friendship, even a
best friendship. Although he hadn’t planned to kiss her, he had assumed that
if it ever happened, they would explore the reason for it. “It’s late. We
should be going.”

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33

She finger combed her hair, trying to restore some semblance. “We?”

She waved at him, as she turned and put her headphones back in place.
“Goodnight.”

Following her, he watched the angry sway of her hips, telling himself

they did not mesmerize him. Yet he couldn’t keep his gaze off her. Her
figure was becoming downright svelte.

That meant she walked after dark a lot.

Damn!

He didn’t want to read about her disappearance in the papers,

or show up at her house to find police cars scouring her neighborhood and
dragging the canal behind her house.

Although in a purely masculine way, he couldn’t help but admire her

exotically lush curves.

Snap out of it!

Sam had made it crystal clear that the kiss would never

be repeated.

When they reached the parking lot, he blocked her way. “The truck’s

this way.”

An incredulous expression flickered across her eyes. “So?”

“Get in. I’ll drive you home.”

She shook her head, her fall of glistening pony tail tumbled between

her shoulder blades. “No, really. I’ll be just fine. I never have any problem.”
Without missing a beat, she strode away.

Foolish woman!

Irritated, he followed her, ignoring her scathing

glances.

She didn’t slow up till she reached her front door. With a sigh, she

turned and pierced him with her inscrutable gaze. “I’m home now. You can
leave.”

He felt like saluting for the first time since he’d separated from the

army. “Six sharp on Thursday. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t.” He started to close the door, feeling as if he’d forgotten

something important.

“Dylan....”

His hand still on the knob, he turned to the sprite that was shaking out

her hair from its former imprisonment, and sucked in a sharp breath. God,
but she looked like an angel with that silky cloud of dark burnished hair
haloing her angelic face. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he grunted.

“It’s dark out there. Shouldn’t I walk you to your car?” When he

gaped at her, her silvery laughter tinkled over him mockingly. Brazenly, she
batted her long, lush lashes at him. “For your protection.”

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34

The only one he needed protection from was her. She definitely

wasn’t herself. He gazed up at the full moon overhead. Maybe that was the
answer. She was turning into a werewolf.

* * * *

Sam couldn’t sleep after the run-in with Dylan, so she made a late

night visit to the bookstore after he drove off. She sought out a guilty
pleasure, one of her favorite sci-fi romances in which she quickly became
engrossed and then she hunkered down at a corner table in the coffee shop as
she sipped a sinful mint chocolate latte.

“Samantha Wagner?” Startled, clutching at her throat, she jumped.

How many men were going to leap out of the blue at her tonight? She
glanced up from her book where the heroine was being abducted by a band
of nasty space criminals, wondering if she had somehow been transported
into the story.

Quelling her hammering heart, she glanced up at the man casting a

shadow over her. He was a buff man of medium height, sporting long
microbraids pulled back into a pony tail and a very roguish, very sexy five
o’clock shadow. A twinkling grin lit not only his face, but reached his eyes.
Although he looked vaguely familiar, she couldn’t place him. Perhaps he
was the parent of one of her students? But he didn’t look to be any older
than she, so she scratched that theory. Denzell might just have to move over.

He must have read the uncertainty in his eyes, for he continued

undaunted. “Remember me? I’m Lashawn Gordon from FIU. Freshman
year. We were chemistry lab partners.”

Sam did a double take at the man she’d gone out with on two very

forgettable dates. Uhm uhm uhm. Hadn’t he filled out nicely? She’d given up
on the fine looking man too soon.

Motioning to the empty chair across from her, she closed the book.

“Lashawn! Whatever happened to you? You look great.” If she gushed any
more, she’d embarrass not only herself but the entire womanhood.

How had the lanky geek turned into this lusty bad boy?

He let his gaze roam her length unabashedly as well. “Looking mighty

fine yourself, Sammy.” Capturing her hand, he held up her naked wedding
ring finger and then kissed the top of her hand. “I see you’ve managed to
escape the noose. I figured some lucky brother would’ve snapped you up
ages ago.”

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35

Warmth seeped into her cheeks under the weight of his compliments.

“I was engaged until recently, but it didn’t work out, so here I am.” If that
wasn’t the understatement of the decade!

“The fellow must be crushed. But it’s a lucky break for the rest of us.”

He rubbed her knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

Majorly flattered, she was hypnotized. She searched her memory for

his major, but drew a blank. “So what’ve you been doing with your life?”

“I run my own computer company. How about yourself?” He picked

up her book and read the title aloud, “Alien Abduction. I see you still love
the science stuff.”

“Always and forever. I teach science in high school. I have five

classes of about thirty plus thirteen-year olds each. They keep me on my
toes.”

He flashed a heart-melting smile her way. “Ahh. So you’re still

blowing up science labs. I think you were the queen of lab explosions.”

Wincing, she wished everyone would forget about her inglorious days

when she believed herself to be immortal and invincible. She was much
more cautious now. She had matured a great deal since her freshman year.

Resting her chin on her hand, she gazed into his luscious eyes fringed

by the longest, lushest lashes she’d ever seen on a man. How criminal. Hers
were stubby and unremarkable compared to his, even with a ton of mascara
lavished on them. She tried to squash her jealousy. “Actually, I’ve not blown
up a lab since my college days.”

Leaning forward across the table so that his breath mingled with hers,

he asked, “What are you doing for the rest of the evening?”

She tingled so much he might as well have asked what she was doing

with the rest of her life. “Just reading my book.”

“How about we ditch this jive place and you go on a moonlit ride with

me?”

“A ride?” The bridge of her nose pinched together. Glancing at the

clock on the wall, she noted that the hour quickly approached ten and the
next day was a school day.

Her heart pounding wildly, she chided herself. That was spinster

thinking. The night was still young, romance vibrated in the stars, and she
wasn’t an old maid yet. But if she worried about going out late on school
nights with hot men, she would most definitely wind up an old maid.

“On my motorcycle. At this time of night, we can really open up and

feel the wind in our faces. Are you game?”

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36

Her pulse jackhammered in her wrist. She’d been dying to ride on a

motorcycle and could barely contain her excitement.

“Let’s go.” She quickly made her purchases, tossed them in her car,

and rejoined him, devouring the scrumptious eye candy.

Her spine tingled when Lashawn strapped a motorcycle helmet under

her chin and his warm fingers grazed the sensitive flesh of her neck. For as
long as she could remember, she’d dreamed of riding behind a wild man
with a hot bike between her legs.

The new improved Lashawn wasn’t only wild, but fascinating with a

devilish hint of mischief in his eyes. Lashawn climbed aboard and nodded
for her to join him. “Hold on tight and don’t let go.”

Like she planned to? Uh uh. She was too much looking forward to the

holding on tightly part.

Excitement thrummed through her veins when the engine’s vibration

pulsated through her. Slipping her arms around her date, she held on tight
and pressed her cheek to his back, sniffing the awesome combination of his
leathery jacket and the motorcycle’s fumes.

“You ready for the ride of your life?” Lashawn yelled over the

throttling engine.

“I can’t wait!” She couldn’t believe that at age twenty-nine this was

her first ever time riding on a motorcycle. She was a wild woman now,
ready to experience life to the fullest.

“Hang on tight!”

They zoomed away from the bookstore, into the city lights. Soon they

left them behind for the thick layer of stars blanketing the countryside to the
north of Ft. Lauderdale and west of Boca out in God’s country. Just palm
trees, saw grass, and the alligators.

It was hard to believe they hadn’t traveled very far to escape the city,

which always seemed to press in on her. With her busy daily regime, she
rarely escaped the boundaries of Ft. Lauderdale and forgot there were wide
open spaces so nearby.

She could easily see why Lashawn was so enamored of his cycle. It

was far more than a conglomeration of engine parts. It represented glorious,
spectacular freedom. And she hungered for more.

When they reached a lone cabin on an isolated road with dense tree

cover, he pulled over and killed the engine. Twisting around, he slipped an
arm around her waist. “Want to come inside for a nightcap?”

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37

Except for the mosquitoes and the alligators they were very secluded,

and an alarm bell sounded in her head. “This is your place?” She hadn’t
expected a big entrepreneur to live in a little shack in the back of nowhere.

“This is my friend’s hunting cabin. A bit rustic, but cozy. No one will

disturb us here.” Lashawn nuzzled her neck, suddenly becoming an octopus,
groping her breasts.

Oh God!

“Stop!”

“We have beautiful moonlight. We just found each other again. Let’s

not waste all this romance.” The retched words vomited from his mouth. He
pushed her blouse off her shoulders, and buried his face in her breasts.

Panic pulsated through her. Ill, she tried to shove away the preying

mantis. “I mean it, Lashawn! Get off me and take me home right this
minute.”

“Oh come on, babe. Loosen up a little. Don’t be a stick in the mud.”

Lashawn redoubled his efforts to haul her against him, getting rough.

“No, means no,” she said through gritted teeth, and punched him in

the nose.

Her punch took him by surprise and he lost his balance, landing in the

brush by the side of the road and the cycle fell, missing him by mere inches.
Holding his nose, he glared at her. “You scratched my bike!”

“Sorry about the bike.” Pivoting on her heel, she started retracing their

path.

“You can’t just walk away alone. It’s not safe.”

Turning around, she walked backwards, glaring at him as he rose to

his feet. “It’s a whole lot safer than staying here with you.”

“There are alligators…”

“You’re so right and the biggest, meanest one is cradling his

motorcycle right now. Goodbye, Lashawn.” She turned and quickened her
pace, putting as much distance between them as possible, straining her ears
for the sound of the cycle’s engine.

Luckily, she didn’t hear the engine, but she didn’t hear any other cars,

either. The night sounds pressed in on her and ferocious grunts made her
shiver. Maybe she wasn’t as brave about the alligators as she’d professed.
Insects buzzed and she had visions of contracting Yellow Fever and West
Nile Virus.

She stopped and slapped her head. Duh! Her cell phone was in her

belt pouch. In all the upset, she’d forgotten about it. With trembling fingers,

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38

she pulled it out and winced when she saw it was almost one a.m. She
punched Dylan’s number, hoping he would answer.

Dylan’s sleepy voice answered. “Yo. Do you know how late it is?”

“It’s me, Samantha, and yeah, I know. I’m in a real bind and I need

you to bail me out.” She was starting to get really spooked as the animal
noises reverberated in her ears, and the moon slipped behind the clouds,
making the shadows longer and eerier.

The motorcycle kick started and she about jumped out of her skin.

“Oh, God.”

Hide!

She dove into the tall saw grass just before Lashawn’s

headlights illuminated the spot where she’d been standing. The marshy
ground sucked at her as the grass poked her as if she was a pincushion.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Dylan’s voice boomed over the

line, all trace of grogginess gone.

“I-I don’t know.” Her gaze darted to and fro at each new noise. “I’m

stranded out on Route 27.” She licked her lips. “It’s terribly dark out here.”
Like a black hole.

“By yourself?” Dylan swore vehemently in the background.

“I hope so.” She hadn’t meant to voice that aloud and wished she

could bite it back.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What’s going on?”

The earth swayed beneath her, and she sucked in a deep lungful of the

fragrant country air that no longer seemed as charming as it had a half hour
previously. “M-my date, uh, came onto me too strongly. I, uh, pushed him
away and left.”

“Where are you, exactly?”

“Out on Route 27, east of I-75.”

“Okay, stay out of sight until I call you. I’ll call when I get onto Route

27. Will you be okay for now?”

“I think so.” Another grunt sounded nearby and she about jumped out

of her skin. “Hurry, please.”

“On my way.”

Eager to get out of the eerie swamp, she hiked west toward I-75,

keeping an ear out for Lashawn’s motorcycle. Exhausted, her bones were
weary and her eyelids drooped.

Her legs ached as she trudged alongside the deserted road. Long

blades of sawgrass brushed her legs and she bent down at regular intervals to

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39

scratch her itchy flesh. Brambles caught in her socks and her hair, and she
cursed herself for going off with someone she’d not seen in years.

What felt like hours later, Dylan finally charged up in his white pick-

up truck and she separated herself from her hiding place. She waved wildly
at him lest he miss her in the inky darkness. Street lamps didn’t exist this far
out in no man’s land and the stars were playing hide and go seek with the
clouds.

Grateful if embarrassed, she clambered into the cab with Dylan and

sank back against the leather seat with a huge sigh of relief. “I can’t thank
you enough. You’re a real prince.”

The crowned prince scowled at her. “How’d you get out here? I

thought I left you safe at home.”

Suddenly, the fearsome swamp became fascinating and she stared at

it. As dark and murky as it was, it was less foreboding than the angry glint in
Dylan’s eyes. She folded her hands in her lap and wet her lips. “I couldn’t
sleep. So I went up to the bookstore.”

Dylan pierced her with his dark gaze. “This doesn’t look like a

bookstore.”

“I’m getting there.” Her toes curled in her shoes as she hit rewound on

the evening’s events. “I ran into an old friend at the coffee shop and he
invited me to go for a ride.”

“One of your computer dates? I thought you were going to be more

careful with them, not go off alone till you knew them well.” He slammed
the flat of his hand against the steering wheel.

Her blood boiled and she did her best to remember he was doing her a

huge favor, coming out in the middle of the night to save her from her folly.
As patiently as she could, she explained, “Lashawn was my college lab
partner. We used to date so I thought I knew him.”

Dylan slid a dark glance to her. “So what did Lashawn do that you

had to call me?”

“He took me on a very romantic ride on his motorcycle.”

“Romantic?” Dylan’s brows pinched together.

“But then he brought me out here, to his friend’s hunting cabin, and

he … he....” The words choked in her throat and she couldn’t untwist her
tongue.

Murderous rage flashed across Dylan’s face. “Where is this cabin?”

He made a sharp U-turn, throwing her against his tense body, stealing her
breath.

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40

Frissons of anxiety flooded her when she laid a hand on his steely

forearm to upright herself. “He left long ago. You won’t find him at the
cabin.” Thank God. Dylan looked as if he’d do far more than bloody
Lashawn’s nose if he caught up to him.

Dylan made another U-turn, making her dizzier yet, but whether it

was from the succession of turns or relief, she wasn’t sure.

“Whatever possessed you to ride off into the country alone with this

dude?”

“I knew him....”

“Obviously not.”

She massaged her aching head hoping she’d awaken and this would

prove to be a nightmare. Surreal, it felt like she’d been whipped into the
Twilight Zone. “What do you want from me? All right, I made a stupid
mistake. I’ll be more careful.”

Dylan’s expression softened. “I just worry about you and this

newfound obsession to find a boyfriend.”

She hid her frown by gazing out the far window, and then realized it

was reflected in the window. “I’m not obsessed with anything.” Except
maybe you.

But she wasn’t about to admit that and raise his hopes for the

impossible.

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41

Chapter Five

Jayla, one of Sam’s finest students, proudly demonstrated her

exploding volcano to the fifth hour physics class. “Stand back everyone and
watch,” the teenager announced proudly, beaming from ear to ear.

Not quite as excited as her protégé, Sam remained close in case

something went wrong. Exploding volcanoes weren’t here favorite projects
but the students adored them. The messier the better for some of her kids.

“As you’ll see, the vinegar mixed with the baking soda is

combustive.” Carefully, Jayla poured the vinegar into the mountain and
jumped back, watching with a fascinated expression.

Steam, and then red ‘lava,’ began to ooze out of the miniature

volcano, the sizzling ominous. Suddenly, the top exploded, and red ‘lava’
spurted in every angle, coating everything in the room.

Students covered with the messy goo screamed, scrabbling for the

exit. Two of her worst troublemakers, Benjamin and Ian laughed
uproariously and threw more of the red concoction onto Elizabeth and
Gianna, the prissiest girls in the school, eliciting blood curdling screams and
wrathful promises of revenge at the top of their lungs.

“Benjamin! Ian! Stop that right now or you’ll get detention!”

Seething, Sam wanted to put them in detention until the end of the school
year.

The fire alarm sounded, and the sprinklers showered down upon them,

making the floors slick, causing Sam’s feet to go out from under her as she
tried to cover the exploding mess. With a cracking thud, she landed hard on
her derriere.

Shit!

As she scrambled to her feet, battling a fair amount of pain, she

ordered, “Kimberly, call down to the office on the radio and tell them it’s
not a fire.”

Between hiccoughing sobs, Jayla apologized profusely. Melting

mascara ran down her cheeks in rivulets mixing obscenely with the blood-
like lava, making her look like a member of the Rocky Horror Motion

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42

Picture Show. “I’m so sorry. It was only a little flow at home when I tested
it. Nothing like this. Maybe I added too much vinegar th-this t-time.”

“No one’s answering.” Kimberly’s long hair was a sodden mess

hanging over her eyes. “They must’ve all gone outside for the fire alarm.”

Double shit.

The principal was going to read her the riot act for sure.

Turning to Jayla, Sam said, “Go on outside with the class and find the

principal. Tell her that everything’s under control, that it’s not a real fire,
and to cancel any calls to the fire station.” Sam did her best to smile
sympathetically at the girl as all hell continued to break loose.

“Walk, don’t run, people! Remain calm, and collected, and meet

outside at our designated location.”

“But it’s not a fire,” Ian protested with a scowl. He twirled his fingers

in the air, then skid his hands across one another in a wide, sweeping gesture
with a sarcastic grin.

Equally rebellious, Benjamin nodded sharply at his side kick’s side.

“Why should we have to go out there when we know it’s a false alarm?”

Sam gritted her teeth, hearing her mother’s mocking I-told-you-so.

Her mother hadn’t been against teaching per se, but she’d thought teaching
science to thirteen year olds a totally horrendous, hazardous idea. At the
moment, she wondered if her mother had been the psychic one.

Biting back a huge sigh, Sam wiped volcanic ash from her eyes and

off her lips. “Just in case there really is a fire somewhere else in the building.
Because it’s the rules. Because I say so. And just what does that gesture
mean?”

The dynamic duo wrinkled their noses and twisted their lips, their

budding mustaches disappearing from view. The boys had the decency to
look abashed and finally Ian said, “That’s sign language for ‘duh’.”

Duh, huh?

She’d have to remember that. Pretty clever, even if it had

been directed at her.

“We’re not leaving till you leave.” Benjamin crossed his arms across

his solid football player chest.

Darting the rebels a lethal glare, daring them to defy her, she ordered,

“Outside with you now.” She marched directly behind them, making it clear
she was protecting them and not the other way around.

“This is so lame,” Benjamin complained, skulking, dragging his heels.

Ian started unbuttoning his water-laden shirt and pulling the tails out

of his slacks.

Shocked, Sam blurted out, “Put your shirt back on, young man.”

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43

He started to sign ‘duh’ again, then stopped mid air and substituted,

“But I’m soaking wet.”

So was she, but she wasn’t undressing in public. She treated him to

her sternest, Rambo-teacher stare. “Touch one more button, and it’s a
week’s suspension. In school!”

She wasn’t positive that constituted an official week’s worth of in-

school suspension or not, but she was riled and at her wit’s end. She was in
enough trouble without coming out of the school with a half naked student in
tow.

Principal Boyd rushed up to her merely a few steps out the front door,

her pinched features distorted, her comically large ears bright crimson.
“What’s the meaning of all this caterwauling, Miss Wagner? Are we
encouraging students to bring explosive substances to school again and
destroying more school property?”

Sam thrust out her chin, going into battle mode. “It was merely a

miniature volcano…”

“Of the exploding variety, was it not?” The principal looked ready to

blow her lid, and her eruption would be a hundred times greater than that of
Jayla’s volcano.

“Consider yourself on report, Miss Wagner. As soon as we get you

and your students downstairs to the gymnasium showers and hosed off, and
the students sent home, I want to see you in my office. Pronto. Do I make
myself clear?” The principal turned her back on Sam before she could
respond, and marched away, her silvery curls bouncing tightly.

Sure the entire school understood the old war horse, Sam grimaced. It

took every ounce of her restraint not to mime Ian’s sign language behind the
old bat’s back.

Fire sirens blared, and Sam groaned. Hadn’t they been called off?

The she-dragon turned around and glared at her. “And Miss Wagner,

the fee for calling the fire department out on a false alarm will be billed to
you along with all the other classroom repairs.”

Oy!

She’d need a two after school jobs to cover her growing mountain

of debt.

Jayla rushed up to her and started bawling outright, more morose than

earlier, if that was possible. “I’ll help you pay for the damages. It’s all meza
fault. I shouldn’t have done such a stupid project.”

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Despite her frazzled nerves, Sam’s heart rushed out to the girl.

Squeezing her hand, she tried to console her. “It was a terrific project and
it’s not your fault. I’ll be fine.”

Jayla stared at her with very wide, very uncertain eyes. “Youza sure?”

Not at all.

But she wouldn’t put a guilt trip on this sweet child.

“It’s all part and parcel of being a science teacher. Mrs. Boyd will

calm down. She’s just under a lot of pressure at the moment.” As were they
all.

Several of the other teachers were snickering at her. Some tried to

hide their laughter under discreet hands. Others snorted outright, uncaring
how uncomfortable they made her. In particular, her nemesis, Erin Brady.

Let them laugh!

Their opinions didn’t matter one whit. Or as Jayla

would say in her Star Wars Jar Jar Binx speak, ‘Meza no care.’

Lifting her chin another notch and squaring her shoulders, Sam went

to check on her class.

“Nice going, Wagner.” Sneering, Brady hoisted her pointy witch’s

nose in the air. “It’s bad enough you have to make a shambles of your own
classroom, but now you’ve gone and wrecked the rest of the day for all of
us. Maybe you don’t care about the F-Cats, but I want my students to be
ready.”

Oh stuff it!

she longed to say but of course didn’t dare. At least not in

front of the entire student body. Of course she wanted her kids to ace the F-
Cats. Someday the haughty English teacher would get her come-uppance.
She pretended not to catch the snotty comment, but she knew the students
had heard it and seethed that it would undermine her credibility.

“Are you okay?” Worry creased Nina Parson’s kindly face as she

hurried up to Sam.

“I’ll survive.” But Sam ruined her proud assertion with a big sigh. “I

hope.”

“Don’t listen to that....” Nina pursed her lips, cutting off what she’d

been about to say as if she suddenly remembered her students standing agog
around them. “How about dinner tonight? My treat.”

Trust her good friend Nina to stick by her. Sam’s heart warmed and

she nodded, the first smile curving her lips since the volcano incident. “Can I
get a rain check? I’ve got a date tonight.” She scowled down at her ruined
attire, irreparably stained with red dye. She hoped the stuff would come out
of her hair or she’d look like a clown.

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Not exactly the way to impress a man, at least not any man she’d want

to impress.

Nina’s eyes twinkled and she whispered so the students wouldn’t

overhear, “A hot date, huh? Girl, you didn’t tell me you had a new man in
your life.”

Feeling trapped, Sam backed away, promising, “I’ll tell you all about

it tomorrow during our mutual grading period.”

Just then the Fire Marshall arrived, and Mrs. Boyd summoned Sam to

the inquest. Interrogations, accusations, and chaos shot the rest of the
afternoon.

* * * *

Worn out and generally dispirited, Sam dragged home after school.

After her totally crummy day, Sam was of a mind to call and cancel

her date so she could crawl into bed early and drown herself in chocolate.
No way could she be sparkly and flirty tonight, not after being put on report,
and being blamed single-handedly for destroying the school.

With relief, she entered her cool tomb of a house. Locking the door

behind her, she was ecstatic to find peace and solitude at last. Sauntering to
her kitchen, she poured a long, cool glass of tea and took a sip. Then she
ambled into her living room and froze, staring in dismay. One side of her
porch had collapsed, and lay in a shambles before her. She didn’t
understand. There hadn’t been so much as a thunderstorm much less a
hurricane.

Cradling the cell phone in her hand, she let herself out into the muggy

afternoon. Overwhelmed and distraught, she dialed Dylan’s cell phone.
When he didn’t pick up, she left a rather disjointed, breathless message on
his answering machine.

Picking her way through the debris she stepped over splintered boards

that lay amidst her shattered roof tiles and twisted, torn screening. She
figured this had to have happened recently as dust particles still shimmied in
the sunlight.

A long, low whistle startled her, and she jumped back. Whirling

around, she faced the whistler. When she saw it was Dylan, she almost sank
to the ground in relief. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Dylan’s frown increased, and he rushed over to her and gently

dropped his hands onto her upper arms. His worried glance swept over her,
taking in her extreme dishabille. “What happened to you? Were you out here
when the roof collapsed? Is that blood?”

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“I’m fine. I found it like this when I got home from class.” Bristling,

she wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes up at him. Relief and anger
warred for supremacy in her gut. “But I could’ve been. I thought you said it
would take strong winds to knock it down.”

Dylan released her and sifted through the rubble. “I said that the first

strong wind would probably knock it down. I didn’t say it couldn’t fall down
on its own. If you recall, I’ve been trying to hustle you to get it repaired.”

Folding her arms across her chest, she regarded him somberly. “You

should’ve told me it could just fall on my head without provocation. It could
have killed me.”

“I made it plain it wasn’t safe out here.” Dylan bounced on his

haunches, and the late afternoon sun casting a glare across his eyes.

Admitting that she was in a really rotten mood, she took a deep,

cleansing breath as she silently counted to ten. “I trusted you. I value your
opinion and go by every word. I mean I trust you when it comes to home
repair … I mean, I know you’re an expert at home repair, so I trust your
advice implicitly.” There, that was a little better, passable at least.

Chagrined, she tossed him a conciliatory smile. Blowing stray wisps

of hair away from her eyes, she squeezed his shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry I
blew up. It’s my fault and I had no right to yell at you. It’s just been a rough
day.”

Dylan rose to his full height and stared down at her, his back to the

sun leaving his features in shadow. “So how’d this happen and what is this
stuff? You look like you walked out of a fright show.”

His criticism quickly sobered her. “I love you, too,” she drawled,

feeling so special and warm.

“You hoo! Samantha dear, we’re here for our date.” A peculiar female

voice warbled nearby.

It startled Sam, especially as it echoed inside her house. She spun

around on the ball of her feet, seeking out the intruder. The only person she
was expecting tonight besides Dylan was Marcus for their date …

Oh no!

The date had completely been wiped from her mind between

the days’ back-to-back disasters. Still caked with volcano soot and lava, she
was a genuine fright, just as Dylan had described her. She couldn’t go out on
a date resembling the swamp thing.

But more importantly than her frightening appearance, there was an

intruder roaming about in her house. She had taken a rain check with Nina,
so it wouldn’t be her, and besides that wasn’t Nina’s voice. Unless the ghost

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of her grandmother was roaming the halls…and her voice had changed
drastically …

Funny, the woman’s voice sounded awfully friendly for an intruder.

“Whose she?” Dylan’s gaze darkened on her, and then swiveled to the

house where the sound had originated.

“No clue.” Curious and apprehensive, she ventured slowly toward the

voice, her fingernails digging into her palms.

“Is anybody here? We’re here to pick you up for our date, Samantha.”

The woman’s footsteps seemed to be coming from the kitchen now.

Dylan trailed her so closely, his warmth seeped into her back.

“Sounds like she has the right house. Unless you have a neighbor also
named Samantha.”

Annoyed, Sam scowled darkly. “Whoever she is, she’s pretty bold to

be searching my house.” She arrowed to her kitchen with Dylan’s presence
buoying her courage.

When she reached the kitchen door, she ran into a tiny ball of dynamo

masquerading as a middle-aged matron. Startled, she leapt back against
Dylan’s hard chest, a strangled scream rising in her throat.

The other woman screamed, too, and clutched at her heart. Bouncing

back quickly, she pierced Sam and Dylan with a questioning stare.
“Samantha Wagner?”

“Yes.” Unfortunately, Sam had never seen this person before to be

able to put a name to her. “Who are you?”

Instead of answering, the woman cast a suspicious gaze on Dylan and

asked, “Who is he?”

“Dylan Hudson,” Dylan said with a definite edge to his voice.

The woman’s stare turned supercilious. “Fancy this. We come to pick

you up for our date, and you’re gallivanting about with a white man. Fine
way to treat my son.”

“Our date?”

“I had a date with Marcus Wilson tonight. I don’t recall meeting you

before, or that anyone else was joining us.”

“I’m Mrs. Wilson, Marcus’s mother. He’s waiting out in the car, dear.

Our reservations are in twenty minutes, and the engine’s running.”

Sam could feel Dylan’s silent laughter bubbling behind her. She’d

deal with him later, after she canceled her date. Even if she’d had a
spectacular day and was dressed to the nines, she would be miffed that
Marcus had brought his mother without warning.

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What kind of man brought his mother to his second date unannounced

anyway? Not any kind she wanted anything to do with. If by some horrible
chance, she were to fall in love with such a man, his mother would be
running their lives for the rest of her days.

No thank you.

No way.

Sam glanced pointedly down at her ruined clothing. “I’m sorry, but

I’m afraid I have to cancel our date. I’ve had a bit of an emergency.”

Mrs. Wilson harrumphed and shot her a murderous look. “Well, you

should have given notice if you couldn’t make it before dragging us all the
way here from Boca.”

Didn’t the woman understand the meaning of the word emergency?

“Mama? Are you in here?” Marcus invited himself into her home, too.

Anger rising in her chest, Sam was certain she hadn’t heard a knock

and even more sure that she hadn’t invited him inside.

“I’m in the kitchen with your so-called woman and the other man’s

she’s stepping out on you with.” Mrs. Wilson still invaded Sam’s personal
space, breathing down her neck with her fiery accusations. “She’s just
informed me that she’s standing us up.”

Furious now, Sam, put her fists on her hips and faced off against her

date. “I was just telling your mother that I suffered an emergency and I
won’t be able to join you for dinner. And I don’t appreciate how either one
of you barged into my house uninvited or how you brought your mama
along on our so-called date without telling me.”

“Well, I never!” Mrs. Wilson joined her son and patted his hand

solicitously. “Don’t fret none, precious. We’ll find you a nice, clean woman
with whom to settle down. Someone who won’t step out on you.”

Clean?

As if she was morally filthy? As if she had a dread disease?

“Samantha?” Marcus sounded like a lost puppy dog. “You’re really

standing me up?”

Duh!

Sam looked down at herself disbelievingly. “Do I look ready to

dine out?” She was really mad that he didn’t seem a whit concerned about
how she’d come to appear like this. At least Dylan had shown ample
concern.

“We can cancel our reservations and go elsewhere....”

Dylan stepped forward and curled his fingers around Sam’s elbow.

“The lady said she has an emergency. We were just on our way to the
hospital. Don’t you see the blood?”

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Marcus’s eyes opened wider then as if he truly saw her for the first

time that evening. “I’m her boyfriend, I should be the one taking her.”

Marcus wasn’t taking her anywhere ever again. Or his batty mother.

And he had a lot of nerve calling himself ‘her man’ after only one date.
“Goodbye, Marcus. Dylan’s got it handled.”

She could almost feel Dylan’s chest puff out with pride behind her

and she had to tamp down a small thrill that threatened to run away with her.

“Well, if that’s the way it is, we’re leaving.” Mrs. Wilson harrumphed

and shooed her son out the door.

Dylan followed them to the front door and locked it. “He doesn’t have

a key, does he?”

She scowled at him, wishing he hadn’t gone all Cro-Magnum again.

“No. Of course not.”

“Well, you’re dating him.”

“This was only to be the second date.” Exasperated, she stared at her

friend, wondering what it was about his gender that made her want to scream
and tear out her hair?

His gaze dueled with hers. “Are you going to tell me why you look

like a bloody, drowned rat?”

Did she have to? She’d never hear the end of the teasing about

blowing up labs. Shuffling her feet, she averted her gaze, and found a very
fascinating piece of ceiling to gaze upon. “Uh, there was a bit of an accident
in one of my classes today.”

“What kind of accident?”

Exasperated, she bit back a sigh. The dolt was going to make her tell

him. He just had to hear the words come out of her mouth. “W-well, one of
my students science projects sort of … blew up.”

Dylan stared at her in disbelief for several moments and then hooted

and doubled over with laughter. “So you admit it. You blow up labs.”

Immensely offended, she elbowed him hard in his ribs, not feeling the

least bit sorry for the fool. “I didn’t. My student did. She had one of those
exploding volcanoes that are only supposed to bubble up a bit. Only it shot
out all over the entire room, set off the fire alarms and the fire sprinklers,
and now, my job’s on the line.”

Dylan’s laughter instantly faded into concern. “And then you came

home to find your porch had collapsed.”

She swiped at her forehead. “Yep. That pretty well sums it up. Except

for then those maniacs had to barge in and start hurling ugly accusations.

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I’m having a really stellar day.” Tired and in despair, she slumped against
the wall. Actually, she was having a stellar year.

“Poor baby. How about you get cleaned up and we get your porch

supplies. We’ll grab a bite of dinner while we’re out.”

She didn’t have the heart to eat, but she nodded. Since she couldn’t

avoid the repair now, she was anxious to get the construction under way.

* * * *

Dylan feasted his eyes on a very clean, but very sober Samantha as

she picked at her pizza, pulling off the pepperoni instead of eating it on the
pie.

“What are you looking at?” Almost feral, she snarled.

Luckily he knew she was up to date on her rabies shots. “A stunning

woman.”

Her mouth gaped open and her guard relaxed for a split second. Then

the annoying shutters came down over her eyes again. “Not now.”

“One disappointing date and you hate all men now? By the way,

where did you find that winner? Do you work with him?” He hated to think
of a spineless jelly fish like that being a role model to kids.

Sam suddenly became very interested in her food and lowered her

head near her plate effectively hiding her face from view. Lifting her slice of
pizza, she took a generous bite and filled her mouth with the gooey cheese.

“Sam?” He wasn’t about to let her off the hook so easily. He needed

answers.

When she still ignored him, he leaned forward and tapped her

shoulder. “Sam,” he said louder, more forcefully.

“Uh, yeah?” Her head popped up.

“I asked you where you met this loser?”

A caged expression flittered across her face. Her gaze darted around

like she was seeking an escape route. “I, uh, met him online. Through a
dating service.”

Shocked, he didn’t know what to say so he ended up echoing dumbly,

“From an online dating service?”

Nodding, flames shooting from her eyes, she challenged, “You got a

problem with that?”

Red hot anger exploded in him. Was the nutty woman trying to get

herself killed? “Hell yeah! It’s crazy. It’s dangerous.” She was bound to run
into worse nuts over the computer than the impotent mommy’s boy.

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“Everyone’s hooking up by the Internet nowadays. It’s the modern

way.”

“Not anyone I know.” Except Sam. “I never met women that way.”

Sam chuckled. “You don’t use computers.”

“Maybe because I don’t trust them.” His appetite was gone and he

pushed his plate away. “Anymore than I trust the freaks that like to prey off
women there.”

She vaulted out of her chair, rattling it and she began to march away.

She tossed over her shoulder, “I suppose you feel more qualified to choose
the best man for me?”

“I already told you what I think but you’re being pigheaded.”

She whirled around on him, her chest huffing. “Just because I don’t

choose to become romantically involved with you doesn’t mean I’m
pigheaded

. If you can’t take no for an answer, maybe we shouldn’t be

friends, either. Please take me home.”

His heart skipped a beat and he followed her out of the restaurant into

the star-studded night. “What about your porch?”

She stopped dead and she pierced him with an irate gaze. “What about

my porch? I think it’d be better if I hire someone else. I don’t want to be in
your debt.”

His annoyance mounting every second, he raked his fingers through

his hair. “Stop it. You won’t be in my debt.”

She poked her finger in his chest, punctuating each harshly bitten out

word. “Oh, no? What do you call doing favors for someone? I can’t let you
run my life and tell me who to date just because my house needs repairs.”

“Okay. We need to clear the air.” He gathered his wits about him and

sucked in his gut. “I’ll say this one more time and then it’ll be up to you if
you want to change things between us.”

She eyed him warily and didn’t try to still her hair as the evening

breeze whipped it about her face. Her hands fell limply to her sides.

Cataclysmic emotions welling up in him, he covered her hand with

his. “This is the twenty-first century and mixed couples marry daily and live
happily-ever-after. I don’t give a damn what your family, your neighbors, or
our friends say. I only care what you and I think.”

Shadows flickered across her eyes and she fidgeted. “You’re being

naïve.”

He digested that sourly. “Why? Because I’m not educated well

enough to understand what the real world’s like? Or is that the real reason

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I’m not good enough for you? I don’t believe for a minute that bull about
destroying our friendship.”

“And do you know that the divorce rate is a lot higher for mixed

couples than same race couples? It’s not just the narrow-mindedness of
prejudiced people we’d be up against, but we come from entirely different
cultures.”

“Do you think this kind of feeling come along every day? That two

people click like we do?” When she stared at him with icy resolve, he gave
up. Furious, he kicked at a large rock sending it across the parking lot and
ground out through clenched teeth.

When indecision warred across her face, he awarded himself a small

but significant victory, hoping he’d planted a seed. “Come on. I’ll take you
home.” He’d get the lumber supplies and just show up rather than give her
the chance to snub him again.

* * * *

All that night and the following day, Sam’s emotions battled with her

common sense. Although Dylan had drilled into a depth of feelings Jamal
had barely penetrated, she couldn’t forget he was white. She couldn’t forget
that he hadn’t finished high school, that they were worlds apart on so many
vital levels. She couldn’t forget she carried the torch of black culture.

Moreover she had every intention of earning her doctorate and

teaching college. He’d show up to her black tie fund raising events wearing
oily, holy t-shirts that Third World refugees wouldn’t be caught dead in.

She shook her head and muttered under her breath so many times her

students started exchanging worried glances and pointing her way.
Daydreaming, she missed several cues and finally gave one of her classes a
long study period.

She had to purge the man from her heart and her mind. She’d have to

go cold turkey on him or she’d drive herself crazy.

After school, Sam fashioned a miniature hover craft from specs that

she’d found online. She cut out a four inch square of cardboard, cut out a
hole in the center of it large enough to fit a spool and then glued the spool
into it securely. Next she glued a piece of paper over the top of the spool.

While she waited for that to dry, she nibbled on a muffin and checked

her email. Excitement pulsated through her when she found several more
replies from the men at the dating service who she’d sent notes.

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A frown settled between her brows as she read the first one, then she

broke into a belly laugh. This nut couldn’t be serious. He wanted to know if
she was open to a threesome with his wife.

No way!

She deigned to answer and sent the nasty response into

oblivion.

To her amazement, the second response topped that. This one wanted

to know if she would conduct science experiments on him. Deeply sexual
ones … with lab animals.

Perhaps she should forward this one to the police. Maybe she should

change her email address. Perhaps Dylan had been right.

Hot breath scorched her neck and she swiveled around in her chair,

breathless, to find Dylan bending over her. “What are you doing here?
How’d you get in?”

“I came by with the porch supplies and thought I’d get started. The

back door was open so I let myself in.” Dylan read over her shoulder and
frowned.

Retrieving her wayward senses, she dove to close down the email that

was none of his business. But he stilled her hand, and sucked in an angry
breath. “What did I tell you? You’re still trying to hook up with one of these
crazies?”

She couldn’t deny they made Marcus and Mommy Dearest look tame

in comparison. “I should never have mentioned I was a science teacher.”

Dylan’s deep guttural groan stroked her. “You let them know what

you do for a living. You didn’t tell them where you live, too, did you?”

“Only greater Ft. Lauderdale.”

He groaned louder, and turned her to face him. “I can’t believe a

smart woman would give out so much personal information to complete
strangers....”

She held up a hand. “I didn’t tell them precisely. It was a dating

service for the Miami-Ft. Lauderdale area.”

“Just as bad. Now they can seek you out through the school system.

You’d better change your phones to unlisted numbers. Change your email
address”

“While I’m at it, should I change jobs? Sell my house?” Maybe she

should change her name, too. She wasn’t about to tell him she had already
considered changing her email address.

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“I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” His sweetness almost

melted her heart but if she let him know it, he’d be pushing her around from
this day forward which was not an option.

“I’m not going to answer them. If it makes you feel better, I’ll block

them.” She proceeded to do just that. Later, when he wasn’t hanging over
her shoulder, she’d change her email handle. She saw no reason at this point
to go to the expense and hassle of changing her phone number just yet.

“I’d feel a lot better if you promise me to stop this online dating

nonsense.”

“I remember somebody swearing he’d stop interfering in my love life,

that he’d wait for me to make the first move, if and when I decide. I wonder
whatever happened to him?”

Dylan regarded her silently for several long, prickly seconds before he

finally picked up the hover craft. His eyes crossing, he turned it over in his
hands. “What’s this?”

She breathed a silent sigh of relief that he’d let the matter drop. “A

hover board. If it works out, I’ll let my students make one.”

“It’s not even big enough to fit a cat.”

“I didn’t say I was making it for a human.” Wishing it was, she

wrinkled her nose.

“Is it done?”

She liberated it from his fingers. “No. I have a few more things to add

before I can test it.”

He rose and paused with his hand on the sliding glass door. “I’ll be

outside working on the porch.”

She set the hover craft on the table and stood. “Is there anything I can

do to help?”

“I could use a hand removing the debris.”

She’d been afraid to move things in case he still needed any pieces

from the wreckage. Now she felt foolish. “Right,” she said in her most
businesslike tone. “I’ll get the garbage cans and clean it up.”

She worked furiously, trying not to notice how darn sexy he looked in

his low slung tool belt and tight muscle shirt. Sweat slicked his brow and ran
down his back, as it did hers. It was well into the late afternoon and the day
was still a scorcher. She only took breaks to bring them more cold lemonade
so they wouldn’t get dehydrated.

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Three hours later as the sun was finally showing signs of setting, her

muscles sore and exhausted, she picked up the last of the debris. She inhaled
deeply. “No wonder you’re so fit if this is what you do all the time.”

“You should go inside and cool off in the air conditioning. You’re not

used to this heat.”

“Can I fix you a bite to eat?” She retired to make a light late dinner

and work on her project.

“Just a sandwich and a beer if you have one.” He whipped a

handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat off his brow before he
resumed hammering the new lumber into a semblance of a frame.

How long she paused, watching the fascinating play of taut muscles

stretching across his shoulders, she wasn’t sure. She was wrapped up in
fantasies of how they’d look working out in her bed …

Lordy!

She was phasing out again.

Don’t go there!

Taking herself away from such delicious temptation, she busied

herself making a couple large chopped barbecued pork sandwiches. The man
needed to keep up his energy, and she’d burned enough calories she could
afford to indulge in her sinful pleasure.

She was amazed how fast he tucked into his food. She supposed big

strapping men needed plenty of sustenance, so she put together a second
sandwich and a salad to compliment it.

Once she had savored the gentle purrings of his well-satisfied

stomach, she cleared the table and put the finishing touches on her hover
craft. Strapping a toy mouse on board she loosed balloon, freed the craft, and
watched her creation whip and whirl around her living room. “My kids are
going to love this.”

The sliding glass door whooshed open. “What are you doing?” Dylan

caught the craft, bemusement stretching across his lips. “Giving mice rides
now? Aren’t we a bit old for this?”

She plucked her unappreciated masterpiece from his hands, and blew

up the balloon again so she could see if she achieved the same results. “I’m
very mature, thank you very much. I’m going to do this with my kids.”

“You’ll make a great mother someday.”

His high praise stole her breath, but she did her best to recover so she

didn’t let him know how his words had niggled themselves deep in her heart.
“Thirteen year olds can’t get enough of this kind of stuff.” Or thirty-year old
nerds.

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“I’ve got to hand it to you. I don’t know if I could handle it.”

She couldn’t hold back a grin. “Well, check back with me after a day

of thirty-six kids flying hover crafts around my classroom and see if my
sanity’s still intact.”

He laughed at that, a deep, sensual laugh that made her quiver down

to her toes. She had to change the topic--fast. “Uh, Dylan, the porch is really
taking shape. Can I help nail anything? Or hold the screen while you install
it?”

“We’ll put the screen in after we get the roof up.”

She nibbled her lip, and squinted in the swiftly dwindling light. “How

long will that take?”

“I can get the frame up in a couple more hours. Shingling will take a

lot longer.” He wandered over to the other half of the porch. “I’ll need to
pull this down and rebuild this, too.”

“This has turned into a major project. Not that I thought it would be

simple, but not this time consuming. I really should just hire somebody. You
have your own work and I can’t take advantage.”

Purpose in his dark eyes, Dylan closed the gap between them. “I’m

going to help you whether you like it or not. Understand? Now stop
worrying so much and just accept a little help.”

His heavy hands fell on her shoulders, sparking off electricity down to

her toes and her heart pumped too fast. Unable to do anything else, she
nodded.

His thumbs caressed her bare shoulders, making her quake and quiver.

Butterflies pirouetted inside her chest and all she could do was gaze dumbly
at him wanting him to kiss her while perversely hoping he’d stick to his
word.

Then the cell phone rang, breaking the bewitchment. She stepped back

and pointed dumbly at the sound. “I should see who that is.”

“You should.” Dylan nodded but his scowl told her otherwise.

Ducking under Dylan’s arm, she had a good, stiff talking to herself.

When she saw her sister’s name printed out on the small display screen, she
snatched up her cell phone.

Before she could say a word, Shantel’s sobs burned into her soul. Sam

sank onto her couch and covered her mouth so her words wouldn’t carry.
“What’s wrong, precious?”

“The divorce isn’t even finalized and Richie’s dating some blonde

skank.”

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Sam sighed and shook her head. “But sweetie, you’ve been legally

separated for months. You’ve been out with other men.”

“But he’s not supposed to get over me that easy. Just how insulting is

it that he’s with a big bosomed blonde?”

Sam picked up the framed photograph of Shantel and herself that had

been taken at summer camp back in the days when horses had been way
more important than men. How she wished that was still the case. She’d
rather have wildest horse than the tamest man.

Aware Dylan stood nearby, Sam cupped her hand around the receiver

and turned her back on him. Speaking lowly, she drifted out to her kitchen.
“I’m here for you. Why don’t you visit me for a bit down in Florida? Get
away from everything up there.”

“I wish I could but I can’t take time off work right now.”

Sick at heart for her sister, and a little for herself, Sam curled her feet

under her. Suppressing a sigh, she pushed the heavy fall of her hair from her
eyes. “Well, it’s an open invitation.”

Dylan ambled into the living room from the opposite hall. “I’m just

going to grab something cold to drink.”

“That’s not that rotten Jamal I hear, is it? I thought you kicked him

out,” Shantel asked.

Sam scrunched her nose at Jamal’s name. “The man’s ancient history.

Dylan’s here.”

“That white boy who was your pen pal? Don’t do it, girl. He’ll stomp

all over your heart and throw the pieces out with the trash.”

Sam unsettled herself from the couch and wandered out to the kitchen.

She took a cup out of the cupboard and pushed it against the ice dispenser so
that cubes tumbled out. When it finished, she handed it to Dylan and
mumbled, “There’s soda in the pantry.”

When Dylan turned away and reached for a can of lemon lime, Sam

hissed into the phone, “More than Jamal?”

“No kind of good can come of it. Get out now.” Pain slashed each one

of Shantel’s words.

Sam’s glance slid to Dylan. Good thing she wasn’t involved with him.

So why did pins and needles jab her heart, just thinking about it?

* * * *

Sam couldn’t stay in the same house with Dylan all week, not if she

valued her sanity.

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She joined every class her health spa offered--yoga, T’ai Chi, and

belly dancing.

The first night of yoga proved frustrating, but the teacher who

introduced himself as Michael was extremely sexy and soulful with
freeforming dreadlocks cascading down his ebony back. She hadn’t
expected to have a male instructor, but he was so limber, his voice was so
deep and sultry, she could lose herself in watching him which was the point,
so she wouldn’t moon over Dylan and his rippling muscles.

“Now touch your feet together like so.” Michael demonstrated a

deceptively simple move, which made her wobble precariously. “Then lean
over, and try to touch your nose to first your right knee, then your left.”

Much to her supreme embarrassment, she tumbled over. When a few

disdainful and pitying glances raked over her, she veiled her eyes and
thought about running out the back door never to return. But she was in the
middle of the room, and that would heap additional censure upon her, so she
stayed put and tried to concentrate on the moves instead of the buff
instructor.

“Now, from the sitting position, lift your leg as high in the air as you

can. Keep your leg straight now. No bending those knees.” Michael leapt to
his feet and strolled through his rows of students, grunting satisfaction or
stopping to demonstrate.

When he neared her she held her breath, hoping she’d suddenly

become invisible or was too hopeless to merit attention. But when did she
ever get her wishes answered?

“Not like that,” he drawled as he approached her. Without warning, he

grasped her leg and pulled it upright. “Point your toe toward the ceiling.
Work your thigh.”

The moment he released her, she flopped backwards, kicking the

woman behind her in the shins, earning a monumentally dirty scowl from
her victim. Hoots of laughter erupted from the rest of the class.

Great!

She muttered under her breath, “How to win friends and

lovers, part two.”

Wanting to shrivel up and die of embarrassment, she mumbled, “I’m

sorry.” Until this evening, she had considered herself in reasonably good
physical condition. Now she counted herself a marshmallow. She hoped she
wouldn’t suck as much at the water aerobics.

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Her pride taking a phenomenal beating, she vowed she wouldn’t

return to the gym without face-altering plastic surgery. Even then, she’d
avoid yoga at all costs, upon threat of death.

The torture seemed to last forever. Her muscles screamed at her that

she had let them get so rusty. Every tendon stretched beyond repair and she
feared she might have to call in sick to class the following morning. Maybe
for the following year. Her fanny had never been so sore, not even after a
rollicking night of sex with Jamal.

Finally the clock struck eight, and Michael wrapped up the torture

session. “I want to thank everyone for coming, especially our new members.
As you discovered, yoga is not as simple as it looks, but we all were
beginners at one time, so don’t I want you to be disheartened. I’ll look
forward to seeing you same time next week.”

Same bat time, same bat channel.

So what if it wasn’t the proper Zen

response?

Struggling to her feet, she moaned. The only part of her that wasn’t

crying out for mercy was her hair. Everything else needed major pampering
and warm water and aromatherapy beckoned. Then she’d follow up with her
heating pads, in the plural.

As she stumbled out the door, Michael caught up to her and a thrill of

excitement shot through her and she automatically strutted tall and proud.

Annoyingly fit and well, he strolled beside her. “I didn’t catch your

name.”

Maybe that was because she hadn’t tossed it out. She bit back the

caustic comment. After all, he was a God in leotards. “Samantha.” Samantha
the snail. Samantha the slug.

Was she trying to mentally sabotage herself? She was supposed to be

on the prowl, not berating herself and her mission. Forcing a sunny smile to
her lips, she beamed up at him, noting that he was about the same height as
Dylan and just as well built.

Dylan again!

She had to ban the dreaded “D” name from her

vocabulary.

“The lovely Samantha.” Charm oozed from the fine man, wrapping

around her like a warm blanket on a chilly night. Quickly, she checked out
his finger for a ring. When she spotted no sign of one she heaved a silent
sigh of relief.

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“You’re too kind.” Lordy! She needed to work on her comeback lines.

She’d been out of commission way too long if that’s the best she could
manage. Her joints weren’t the only corroded part of her.

Averting her gaze, she stared down at her suddenly fascinating toes.

“I’m sorry about being such a klutz. I didn’t mean to disrupt your class.”

Michael turned her to face him gently. “There is absolutely nothing to

feel bad about. You should have seen how uncoordinated I was in the
beginning.”

When his charming grin sank into her depths, hope flared in her heart

and a spark of warmth ignited in her belly. “Really? You’re not just saying
that?”

He crossed his heart and then held up the Boy Scout salute. “Honestly.

You know, I would love to help you – privately.” His husky voice didn’t
begin to sound like any Boy Scout she’d ever heard.

Stunned, she wasn’t sure how to respond. Finally, she held up three

fingers then ticked the first one down. “If you must know, private lessons are
way too expensive for my pocket. Two, I don’t need a jealous lynch mob
coming after me.” Three, I’m here to meet attractive, single, and available
men just like you, to get my mind off forbidden fruit.

Her mind repeating number three, she licked her suddenly dry lips and

asked, “Just how much are private lessons?”

Michael chuckled warmly and pulled her off to the side, out of the

main aisle of foot traffic. “Frightfully expensive, but for you beautiful lady,
a romantic night of dinner and dancing.”

Her nerve endings tingled. Lifting her lashes, she smiled up at him

coyly. “Oh my, that is frightfully expensive. For real, that’d be lovely.”

“How about tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up at six.”

She’d have to give him her home address if he picked her up. What

did she really know about him? The dating safety tips she’d read online
emphasized the need to have her own transportation handy until she knew
the man well enough to trust him with her life. “How about I meet you at the
restaurant at six-thirty?”

“My absolute pleasure.” Then he suggested a very nice lounge and

asked if she liked it.

It sounded almost as yummy as he looked. Hardly able to wait either,

she nodded. She hadn’t slow danced in so very long, she couldn’t wait to be
held in a man’s arms. The tickle fight with Dylan didn’t count…

Blast!

Dylan again. She put a hex on him.

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Michael caressed her cheek and left her by the weights as she stared at

his luscious back.

A shadow fell across her and a man cleared his throat just behind her

ear. “You’ve got to stop this nonsense and let me come home.”

Home?

He had a lot of nerve. Startled, she spun around.

She remembered the advice she’d longed to give her sister. Taking a

gulp of the sweaty air, she steadied her nerves as much as they would
permit. “Please understand. We’re over. I’m moving on and so should you.”
She tossed her hair behind her shoulder and marched off.

Unfortunately, the dense man trudged along at her heels. “Let me

make it up to you, baby.”

Thoroughly frustrated, she stopped dead so that Jamal bumped into

her back. “You really want to make it up to me?”

Hope kindled in his lying, cheating eyes. “Very much.”

If she didn’t know just how big a snake he was, she’d almost feel

sorry for him. “Walk out that door and never bother me again.”

His hand fell limply to his side and his shoulders slumped. “Baby, you

can’t mean that.”

“Every word. If you cared so much, you should have showed me

instead of giving out samples of your love to every woman who batted her
lashes at you.”

A stunned expression crossed his almond features. After several

seconds anger chased it away and he glared at her. “Don’t forget this when
you’re begging and pleading for me to take you back and I’m wrapped
around a new lady.”

Unable to do this with him anymore, she waved her hand in the air

and mumbled, “Whatevah,” and racing against her racing heart, made a
beeline for the locker room.

Steaming, she wasn’t up to going home and face Dylan so she

changed into her swimming suit and took a dip in the heated pool wishing it
was icier.

Once she banished the fink from her thoughts, she relaxed in the

sauna, letting the warm water soothe her muscles. A few leisurely laps in the
pool cooled her off and the scent of chlorine soothed her frayed emotions.
When the clock ticked nine-thirty she decided it should be safe to go home.

* * * *

Dylan glanced down at his watch and swore. Late again. He pressed

the pedal to the medal and zoomed around the slowpoke hogging the lane in

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front of him. He weaved in and out of traffic, trying to get to his GED class
on time.

Ten minutes late, he snuck into the back of the classroom and

squeezed his long length into a student desk that was sized for puny
elementary kids. He opened his books and tried to play catch up with the
class.

“Why are you here, Mr. Hudson?”

Jerking up with a start, Dylan jammed his knees into the low desk.

“Uh, to improve myself.” To impress Samantha. Although he wondered why
he bothered since a GED was several stations below the uppity PhD’s status.

The tall, lanky teacher stared down his imperious nose at Dylan.

“Then I suggest, Mr. Hudson that you start by learning to be on time. Late
entrants disturb the entire class.”

His right knee throbbing, Dylan slumped down in his chair and

mumbled, “Sorry. I got caught in traffic.”

“Perhaps you should leave earlier or sign up for a later class.” The

teacher returned to the chalk board and banged his pointer loudly.

Dylan chafed. Being treated like a kid was a big part of the reason

he’d dropped out of school in the first place. And he didn’t like feeling now
as if he was one of the students who occupied the desk during normal
schooldays. “I’ll be on time from now on.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Hudson. If you want to get ahead in the

world, you need to be punctual.”

Several heads bobbed in agreement.

Like I need this!

Dylan itched to slam shut his books and hightail it

home. No matter what Sam or the fancy pants thought, he was getting along
just fine without a high school diploma.

Sam …

His gut clenched at the lie. He put too much store into what Sam

thought. So he’d have to enroll in college next?

College?

He didn’t have time to breathe now, much less embark on

four years of college.

He’d wet his feet with the GED, and concentrate on his new business.

His cell phone rang and several heads turned in his direction as the

teacher gave him the evil eye. With an epitaph, he hushed it and took note of
the caller. Jay again.

Dylan switched his phone to vibrate, wishing he could do the same to

the instructor. Was Sam this annoying to her students? He sure felt like a

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thirteen-year-old prisoner and wandered why he was here. Jay didn’t care if
he had his GED, nor did Jay’s clients.

“Mr. Hudson. We turn off our cell phones before we come into class,

as a courtesy to our fellow classmates.”

Dylan waved his phone in the air and then stuck it in his pocket. “I

forgot to put it on vibrate. Done now.”

“Make sure you don’t forget next time.”

Or he’d get kicked out of class? Get detention? An article 15?

He felt like delivering a very sarcastic salute to the smug man. But

then again, it wasn’t fair anyone interrupt the class so he mumbled, “Okay,”
and vowed to lock the phone in his truck during the first break.

Before the first break, the phone went off again earning him more

derisive stares. He swore under his breath, and checked the phone. Sam’s
number read out on the display. He had to take this. He rose and tried to
sneak out.

“I thought you turned it off, Mr. Hudson.”

He had put it on vibrate. He scowled, “Guess I didn’t hold the off

button long enough. I’ll be right back.”

“Education doesn’t wait for anyone,” the instructor called after him.

Dylan rolled his eyes. It was just a study session, not a United

Nation’s assembly. He flipped open the phone as he walked outside to find a
private spot. “What’s up?”

“Hi, to you, too,” Sam purred into the phone. “Is this Dylan Hudson?

I’ve not heard from him in so long, I forget what he looks and sounds like.”

Self preservation …

“I’ve got a lot of jobs lined up.” Not a lie.

“Oh. Well, that’s good.”

Dylan glanced through the double glass doors to his glass and then at

his watch. “Did you need something?”

“Can’t a friend just call to chat with her friend? I really miss the days

when we chatted through letters. You had more time for me then.”

His heart stopped. She wanted to spend more time with him? Since

when? He wished he had time to get into this now, but … “I’d love to talk to
you about this, but I can’t right now. I’ll call you back later.”

Silence greeted him and he began to think she’d hung up on him.

Finally she said in clipped tones, “Instead, why don’t you drop me a letter.
Next time you’re lonely and bored. Now that you’re back, I won’t hold my
breath for that to happen.”

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Dylan swore under his breath, kicking himself. Looking at it from her

perspective, it probably did seem like he’d only used her to get through the
long desert days when she was his lifeline. Of course, he’d been fool enough
to delude himself into thinking they were actually building a strong
relationship that would progress upon his return home. Rebuffed a number
of times since then, he’d pulled back, only stopping by to ensure her safety
or when he couldn’t stop himself.

He opened his mouth to say, “We really have to talk about this later,”

but the phone went dead halfway through his statement.

His nerves screaming, he marched to his truck and tossed the phone

inside. He didn’t bother to lock the door, hoping someone would steal the
contraption. Like it did him any good.

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Chapter Seven

Dinner and dancing with Michael proved exceptionally nice. Not

precisely dreamy, but he made her laugh and could carry on decent
conversation. And of course he was great to look at. Most of all, it took her
mind off Dylan for a few minutes…here and there.

Afterwards, she took him up on his offer of a free yoga lesson the

following evening at the gym.

Michael put his hand in the small of her back and guided her to a

smaller, private room in the back of the second floor. “Class is about to start
in the room where we had our session the other night. Besides, this will be
more … intimate.” His voice was husky, even sensual against her ear.
Although it tickled, it didn’t send shivers down her spine.

Intimate?

She nodded and let him guide her.

He locked the door behind him, stating suavely, “So no one will

interrupt our private session.”

“Yoga requires discipline, but like everything else, it can be mastered

with patience and practice. And it’s well worth the time to learn.” He
motioned to her to sit on a floor mat and he settled himself in front of her.

First he demonstrated the beautiful movements, then instructed her to

follow suit. When she mangled the moves, he smiled sympathetically.
Gently, he put his hands on her legs, helping her get into the awkward
positions.

Her legs felt like they were going to snap her tendons were stretched

so tightly. How did anyone ever get used to this? “I think my legs are going
to break. They weren’t made to move like this.”

Michael smiled warmly. “It just takes practice. I guarantee you’ll be

able to get it, and that it will have wonderful soothing effects.”

Not sharing his optimism, she nodded sagely.

“This is an easy one. Start in a laying down position, and then lift your

legs over your head until your toes touch the floor.” He knelt down to spot
her.

Sam was able to do this position without too much difficulty and felt

rather proud of herself. “Like this?”

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“You’ve got it.” Michael clapped and beamed at her.

She smiled back relieved that she’d finally found a man that redeemed

his gender. She put herself into Michael’s capable hands and relaxed into the
most pleasant evening she’d had since before meeting Jamal.

* * * *

After another fun night out with Michael, Sam drifted home on a fog

of euphoria … until she spied Dylan’s truck and an unknown sedan
occupying her driveway. “Why is he here and who’s with him?”

She peered into the empty truck and figured the man must be hanging

out on her porch again, even if the sun had gone down a good two hours
prior. Had he brought a guest?

Sam let herself into the house and looked down the hall and peeked

around the corner into her living room. “I’m home. Is anyone here? Dylan?”

When a female figure walked down the darkened stairwell, she

startled Sam. “Your man Dylan’s been filling me in on some of your
escapades.”

Her sister’s familiar voice tugged at Sam’s heart and filled it with

overflowing joy. “Shantel! I thought you said you couldn’t get away now?”
When her devious friend loped up from the direction of the porch, she
pierced him with an annoyed gaze as she forcefully crossed her arms over
her chest. “You didn’t call and tell her he should come down and watch over
me, did you? You don’t have time to talk, so how is it you have time to show
up in person?”

“We need to talk so I made time. I thought it’d be better than writing a

letter.”

Sam wanted to stick her tongue out at the man but was afraid her

sister would misconstrue her action. She settled for doing so mentally.

Shantel watched closely as if she were recording every bit of this by

play for future examination. “He didn’t call me. Can’t a sister visit on a
whim?”

Sam crushed her younger sister to her in a hug, noting how gaunt

she’d become since they’d last been together. “Of course you can. Lordy,
girl, you need some meat on your ribs.”

Dylan leaned back against the wall, taking in everything. “She just

showed up tonight. I figured I should let her in.”

Shantel cast a pointed look at Dylan. “Dylan was showing me what

he’s doing to your porch. He tells me you’ve been dating a lot.”

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Sam could just imagine how Shantel was measuring Dylan against her

ex and she groaned inwardly. She treated the nosy man to her best glare.
“Have you now?” She’d be sure to thank him … in private.

Turning to her sister, she asked brightly, “So, how long are you

staying? You should’ve let me know so I could schedule vacation days. I
don’t want to miss a minute with you.”

Shantel led the way to her living room and claimed her swivel

lounger. “I’m considering moving down here. I’ve missed having you
around ... and I could use a change of scenery.”

Alarmed at Shantel’s sudden need to be with her, Sam wondered what

new tragedy had befallen her. Sam clutched the other woman’s hand. “Is
everything okay?”

Shantel avoided her gaze and shrugged. “Can’t a little sister want to

spend quality time with her big sisters? Ohio’s a long way to come very
often. I miss hanging out with you.”

Guilt ensnared Sam. Maybe she had been selfish to keep this house

from her paternal grandmother and make her life down here instead of
staying closer to her family up north. But Florida had always been her
dream, and then she’d met Jamal, and started her career. …

“To tell the truth, I was thinking of selling the house up in Cincinnati

and moving down here to be with you.”

“But you love Ohio! You fought so hard to keep that house.....” Oh

no!

Did that mean Shantel had lost the house in the divorce settlement? Or

was she so very heartbroken she’d give up her beloved home just to get
away?

Shantel hugged her fiercely, and hot tears plopped onto Sam’s

shoulder. “I just really need my big sister.” She pulled back a little and
dabbed at her tears.

Oh no!

She had to get rid of Dylan so her sister could pour out her

heart.

Dylan glanced at his watch and then up at Sam. “Well, I have to run. I

have an…”

“Appointment,” Sam finished dryly. Some day she’d find out where

he kept running off to. She wondered if the appointment was blonde,
brunette, or redhead.

“What’s her name?” Shantel jutted her nose in the air and squared off

against him.

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As much as Sam wondered the same, she couldn’t allow her sister to

attack her friend without cause. She jumped between them to avert
bloodshed. Since Dylan owed her nothing, he didn’t deserve to be Richie’s
stand-in for slaughter. “Where are you staying?”

“I was hoping I could stay with you a couple of weeks while I check

out the housing market. I noticed a lot of places for sale on your street.”

Sam was torn between squealing with delight and worrying that her

sister was tucking her tail between her legs and licking her wounds too fast.
“I have a better idea. Why don’t you move in with me? I have oodles of
space and would love the company.”

“Excuse me. I’ll just be pushing along, now.” Dylan wiped

perspiration from his brow and settled his cap back onto his head as he made
a beeline to the door.

“Give her our regards,” Shantel batted her lashes coyly.

Sam wanted to jab the younger woman in the ribs. She hissed, “Back

off.”

Shantel whispered back, “You’re backing off more than enough for

the both of us.”

“We’re just friends,” Sam said between gritted teeth, really annoyed

now. She’d be afraid to leave her sister alone for fear she’d declare war on
all men. Or even just white men.

Shantel narrowed her eyes at Sam, and then at Dylan. “Uh huh.”

Dylan paused with his hand on the door knob and looked back.

“Pleasure to meet you. Sam raves about you all the time. I’m sure she’s
thrilled to have you down here.”

Shantel buffed her polished nails on her silk shirt and drawled, “Nice

to meet you. You’d better hurry or she’ll be mad you’re late.”

Dylan shook his head. “I’ll call you later, Sam.”

Just what were all these appointments he was always running away

to? Did he have a lady friend he didn’t want her to know about? She choked
back a twinge of jealousy.

And why should Dylan bother to hide her? Sam was the one rebuffing

him.

Shantel turned a questioning, combative eye her way. “What’s the

story with the two of you? Haven’t you learned anything from my
mistakes?”

Sam’s heart dropped to her knees and she swallowed a moan. The last

thing she needed was for her relationship with Dylan to come under her

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sister’s radar. Feigning nonchalance, she returned to the kitchen and busied
herself cooking a pot of curried goat and greens. “He’s a good friend.”

Shantel dogged her footsteps and leaned against the counter. “How’d

you two get to be such good friends? Does he work with you at the school?”
She stared thoughtfully at the door as if she could see Dylan through it. “He
doesn’t look like a teacher.”

“He’s not. He was my ex’s best friend. When he was stationed

overseas with his guard unit, we corresponded and we, uh, became close.”

“You were pen pals with a white guy?” Shantel tsked and shook her

head.

Anger bubbled over and Sam whirled around. She shook her wooden

spoon at Shantel. “I was just doing my patriotic duty. He was over there
defending all of us, you and me, too. Besides, you married one so you have
no room to talk.”

Almost as soon as the words had jumped off her tongue, Sam gasped

and wanted to bite them back. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that last part.”

Pain and sadness slashed across her sister’s eyes. “You meant every

word.” She softened. “You’re right. But it’s because I went through hell with
one that I don’t want you to go through that same misery. Learn from my
mistakes.”

Sam’s anger evaporated and she wanted to put her sister’s mind at

ease. “I’ve been seeing a very nice man by the name of Michael.”

Shantel brightened. “Is he a brother? Where’d you meet him?”

Sam bit back a sigh. “Yes, he’s a brother. He teaches yoga at my

health spa.”

Shantel visibly relaxed and she took the spoon from Sam and began to

stir the pot. “Do you go to the spa a lot?”

“As time permits. I have a lot of papers to grade and lesson plans to

prepare but I have to stay in shape.” Sam took a spoon from the drawer and
sampled her cooking. She slid a sideways glance at her sister. “Are things
that bad with Richie that you have to get away?”

Fresh tears glistened in Shantel’s eyes. “They’re absolutely horrible.

Now he’s taking that white chick around to all our friends’ houses. She’s
stealing my girlfriends. His family’s in love with her. I can’t stand another
second.”

Sam’s heart sank. She gathered her sister to her heart and stroked her

hair. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. So very, very sorry. If I could wish it away, I
would.”

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Shantel burrowed against her warmth as if she was a little girl again.

“I know. Now you see why I don’t want you anywhere near that man?
They’re all trouble.”

Had it been any easier on her when Jamal had cheated just because he

was a black man? She didn’t think so. Cheating was cheating and heartbreak
was heartbreak. “I think we should boycott men.” All men. Whatever color--
orange, fuchsia, black, or white.

Shantel nodded emphatically. “Men are dogs.”

Sam recalled Jamal’s philandering ways. “No. They’re alley cats.”

An evil gleam lit Shantel’s eyes. “They should all be neutered.”

“Amen to that,” Sam murmured. Except maybe Dylan … Michael. So

far, they’d proved themselves to be good guys.

But she didn’t dare say that

aloud within Shantel’s hearing. She might go all vigilante, Lorena Bobbitz
on Dylan as Richie’s stand in.

* * * *

Dylan was going crazy out of his mind setting up his new company

and studying to take his GED. He got less and less sleep. He could hire a
hundred employees and still be short handed. With all the disasters hitting
the southern states recently, construction people were in high demand. Still,
he couldn’t forget Sam’s needs, and had hurried to finish her job. He
couldn’t take a chance that she’d get hurt if the porch fell in again.

“Do you have a moment I can show you the porch?” Dylan called

upstairs.

“Of course.” Sam sashayed over, looking as if she was set to go out on

a hot date. Her hypnotic scent followed her on the honey suckle blossom
scented breeze.

His heart skipped several beats and he wondered who she was getting

dolled up for. Trying to suppress his jealousy, he concentrated on the job at
hand. He pushed against the new frame, putting his full weight on it. “You
have a sturdy frame that won’t collapse unless you get hit straight on by a
strong hurricane. I finished the roof last night. I just have to finish putting
the screen up and then there’ll just be a few cosmetic changes left to do.”

She turned to him with gratitude glowing in her mocha colored eyes

and laid a delicate hand on his wrist. “How can I ever thank you?”

Electricity singed him and he could barely keep his mind on the

business at hand. Conversely, he could think of gratitude involving several
Kama Sutra techniques … “Nothing special needed. Did you want to put
down a new floor? Tile maybe?” he said more gruffly than he’d intended.

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She wrinkled her nose and regarded the unattractive concrete floor

longingly. “Someday tile would be nice. But I’m not even sure I can afford
linoleum right now.”

“Maybe an indoor/outdoor carpet? I know a few outlet mills we can

find something cheap.”

She shuffled her feet as she stared at the floor. “I guess it can’t hurt to

look. Are you free this weekend?”

This weekend was the big GED test and he didn’t want to jinx it by

telling her. If and when he passed and had his high school diploma in hand,
then he’d tell her about all his appointments. “No can do. I have an
important … appointment.”

Shutters immediately chased away her friendly smile. “Oh, okay. Just

let me know when you get some free time.”

“Another appointment. Surprise, surprise,” Shantel said, fisting her

hand on her thrust out hip.

Sam whirled around to face her sister. “Dylan has a right to have

appointments.”

He could really do without the sarcastic sister but he still found Sam

irresistible even if she didn’t return his tender feelings. Unable to resist this
opportunity to tease her, he murmured in Sam’s ear. “What are you all
dressed up for? Are you trying to slay your defenseless new boyfriend?”

She rolled her eyes and didn’t deign to answer. But the seductive

sway of her hips as she sashayed away from him, elevated his temperature a
life-threatening ten degrees.

* * * *

After Dylan left for his appointment, Sam gazed at Paradise with dull

eyes. So what if the palm trees silhouetted against the pastels of the setting
sun were gorgeous? So what if even the weedy Melaleuca trees looked
beautiful hanging over the back fence, hanging over the placid canal where a
family of ducks floated lazily?

Dusk’s pinkish orange rays bathed the Red Bottle Brush trees and

pink hibiscus trees, and although they were exotic compared to the maple
trees back home, they failed to move her. The tiny geckos that usually made
her smile in delight only annoyed her as they clambered up the walls chasing
moths.

She missed her northern woods, and she wanted to trade places with

her sister. Shantel could take possession of this house while she slipped back
to Ohio. It wasn’t as if Principal Boyd would be heartbroken if she tendered

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her resignation. And before she’d inherited the house, she’d had her heart set
on attending the University of Cincinnati, not FIU.

She’d never get her mind right with Dylan underfoot almost daily. As

charming and attentive as Michael was, he didn’t make her heart sing.

She’d kick the idea around for awhile, and if it still held appeal by the

weekend, she’d start checking out teaching prospects in the Cincinnati area.

The delicious smell of her sister’s famous curried pork greeted her

when she reentered the house.

“Are you hungry for a little soul food?” Shantel ambled out to her

with a plate of food and held it out to her. “Honey, just wrap your chops
around this.”

At least she was now that she smelled the wonderful concoction.

“Umph!”

When they sat down to dine, her sister shot her a sideways glance.

“Tell me the truth. What’s really up with you and ‘that man’?”

Annoyed, her appetite dwindling, her fork hovering mid air, Sam

pinpointed her sister with her glare. “That ‘man’ has a name. Dylan’s just a
friend.”

“Uh huh.” Shantel was using that tone when she caught her in a lie.

“Cross my heart.” Sam prayed she wouldn’t blush like a schoolgirl.

“Mind you, I can tell when you’re fibbing. You like him, don’t you?”

Sam’s heart skipped a beat and she let her fork clatter to her dish. “Of

course, I like him. We’re good friends.”

“I meant as more than friends.”

Sam’s breath hitched in her throat. Was she that see-through? “I’m

sure I have no clue what you’re referring to. I’m seeing Michael.”

Shantel nodded but kicked back and folded her arms over her chest.

“So when are you going to introduce me to your new man?”

Tired of pretending, Sam pushed her plate away. “I wouldn’t exactly

call him ‘my man.’ We’ve only been out a few times.”

Shantel rose and rinsed off her bowl and then she grabbed Sam’s plate

and dumped it in the sink. She came back and towered over Sam with an
angry glint in her eyes. “Just admit it. You like Dylan as more than a friend.
Did you forget I can read you?”

“And what if I did? You’re acting as if it’s an affront to you. It has

nothing to do with you.”

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Her sister sighed. “You know it’d kill Mama if you fell into the same

trap as me. She was against my union from the start. Now she has more
ammunition.”

Sam squirmed, not liking her seat on the powder keg called ‘Mama’

and she surely didn’t need to light the fuse. Not that she had any intention of
doing so anyway and especially not with Dylan. He’d been scarcer than
scarce since coming home from the Middle East, more interested in her
house than in her. And even though he professed to wanting to talk to her, he
was always running off to his precious appointments before they could get
into a decent conversation.

Just as well …

They were too combustible together to get into an

intimate conversation.

Shantel clutched Sam’s hand. “Promise me you won’t make my

mistakes.”

Sympathetic to her sister’s heartache, and sensitive to their mother’s

feelings, Sam squeezed her sister’s hand. “I have no intention of getting
involved with Dylan. We’re too different in too many ways.”

Shantel sighed heavily and cracked a small smile. “Good.”

Was it?

* * * *

In class the following day, Sam looked out at the sea of eager students

perched on stainless steel stools in front of their tall lab tables. She never
failed to get a thrill from filling up these sponge-like minds with endless
possibilities and limitless boundaries.

Early afternoon sunlight spilled over the jumbles of books beside

them. With spiral notebooks flipped open in front of them, some of the teens
watched her with rapt expressions. Even though she lived for those students,
she didn’t give up on the others who doodled on their pages, or even those
who yawned, looking bored out of their skulls. Her biggest thrill came from
those kids she woke up to the universe of amazing promise. “Listen up,
people. We have a really neat project today I’m sure you’ll all enjoy.”

“Do we get to blow up something?” Benjamin winked at the open-

mouthed, pale Jayla. Then he wadded up a piece of notebook paper and
tossed it at the girl.

When Jayla ducked, it bounced and landed in Sam’s herbs at the back

of the room. Jayla stuck out her tongue and threw a pencil at him.

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Sam pinpointed each student with a glare, even as she wished Jayla

had better aim. “We’ll have none of that in here, ladies and gentlemen. I
need everybody to pay attention so we can finish this hour.”

The roar died to a hubbub and the majority of the gazes finally

focused on her. Sam picked up her hover craft and demonstrated it to the
class. “This is a miniature hover craft, like the one Marty used in Back To
The Future

. Bad, isn’t it?”

An agreeable murmur went up from the class. Several pairs of eyes

glittered with fascination telling her she’d chosen a popular project. Cool!
Chalk one up for her.

“Kimberly and Jayla, please pass out a piece of cardboard to

everybody.” Sam handed the pre-cut squares to the girls.

“Benjamin, please pass out a spool to every student. Ian, give

everyone a balloon.” When they dragged their feet, she glanced at the
ticking clock, frowning. Clapping her hands sharply, she commanded, “Let’s
get to work. Time’s wasting.”

To demonstrate, she made a new craft with the students. Holding her

cardboard in the air, she instructed, “Put your spool in the middle of the craft
and poke a hole into the cardboard, the size of the hole in the spool. Now,
glue your spool onto the cardboard making sure the holes line up, like so.”
She showed everybody her creation.

She watched closely as the students followed instructions.

Elizabeth raised her hand. “Miss Wagner, I cut the hole too big. Can I

have another piece of cardboard?”

“Get one from the far table. Does anyone else need another one?”

Two other hands rose sheepishly and she tilted her head toward the supplies.
“Has everyone caught up?”

All heads nodded.

“Good! Now glue the circle of paper onto the spool. Once it’s dried,

poke a hole where the center of the spool is. There should be no
obstructions. In other words, you should be able to see light coming through
the hole. Everyone hold up your board and show me.”

Ian waved his board in the air mockingly. “Is this how DaVinci

started?”

She felt like sticking her tongue out at him, but bit it instead. “Ha, ha,”

she allowed herself.

“It’s time to strap your toy mouse onto the hover board. Tie their little

seat belts.”

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“Like this?” Jayla asked, her fingers fumbling.

Sam’s lips curved into a smile. “Exactly.”

“Why can’t we use real mice?” Ian asked, snickering. He high-fived

Benjamin when several of the girls squealed.

“Because we can’t.”

“Why?” Ian asked innocently.

Were they thirteen or five? They were teenage brats is what they

were. Counting to ten, trying not to hyperventilate that her authority was
being tested, she tried to remember how much she loved her students. These
were tomorrow’s leaders.

Sam bit her lower lip. Hopefully not the leaders of the Hell’s Angels.

God help them. “Because it’s against school rules. Okay, back to work,
people. Blow up the balloon and twist the end to keep the air from escaping.
Now stretch the balloon over the top of the spool. Place the craft on your
desk, and let go.”

Helter skelter, three dozen hover crafts sailed into the air, colliding

with one another.

Awestruck, she stood back and admired their handiwork. Was this bad

or what?

Blood curdling screams rent the air, shattering her euphoria. Elizabeth

and Jayla jumped onto the desks, tap dancing, while Kimberly crawled under
the table, upending it, crashing it into the snake’s cage. Suspiciously enough,
Benjamin and Ian doubled over in laughter.

The aquarium shattered, releasing the science lab’s mascot – Baby,

the Boa Constrictor. Hissing, Baby slithered onto the floor, winding around
the desks and chairs.

Sam’s head reeled as she ran to scoop up the escaped snake,

wondering what in the world had spooked the girls. Then she spied it. Live
mice clung for their lives aboard two of the hovercrafts.

Benjamin and Ian! Who else would have the nerve to lift Baby’s

food?

“What in Heaven’s name is going on up here? It sounds like a

massacre.” Principal Boyd barged into the room, freezing when she came
face to face with Baby.

Erin Brady ran into the principal’s back, bowling both of them over

inelegantly onto the floor.

Sam snatched Baby up just as the principal dropped to the spot the six

foot snake had been.

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Struggling to her feet, steam smoldering in her eyes, the principal’s

voice warbled lethally, “What is the meaning of this, Miss Wagner?”

Just then, a hover craft sailed into Erin Brady, making her yelp.

“They’re flying mice around. There’s broken glass all over the floor. It’s rife
with hazardous materials.”

Baby curled around Sam’s shoulders, glaring at the principal and her

liege.

“Please help Mrs. Boyd and Miss Brady up, students.” She scoured

her mind for somewhere safe to put Baby until she could get a new aquarium
and spied an empty box. Not that it would work for long, but it would work
until she was able to purchase a new one when class let out.

“Miss Wagner, this is completely unacceptable. I expect you to clean

up this mess immediately and then report to my office.”

Oh, God. Not again.

“Yes, Mrs. Boyd.”

Erin Brady gave her a small but supercilious smile. “I hope you’re

happy upsetting the students--again.”

An hour later, Sam knocked on the principal’s door, her heart in her

throat. When she was bid to enter she mustered her courage, squared her
shoulders, and walked in.

“Please sit down, Miss Wagner.” The principal’s voice was clipped

and haughty, even chillier than it had been after the volcano explosion.
“Pray tell, what have you to say for yourself?”

Sam searched for the least inflammatory explanation. “I had the

students make a hover craft, a harmless project. I tested it at home, first, to
make ensure its safety.”

“Mice flying about the room did not look harmless.” The woman

crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap.

“Dangerous animals, broken glass, students wreaking havoc,

screaming like it was the end of the world.”

“A couple of the boys snuck live mice onto their project and scared

the girls who started screaming and jumping around. One of them
accidentally broke the snake’s aquarium....” Gesticulating wildly, Sam’s
hands spoke faster than her lips.

“Your job as a teacher and disciplinarian is to keep control of your

class. You couldn’t have been watching your students if the boys were able
to set mice free. Just how did you expect the young ladies to act in that
circumstance?” Boyd jotted notes on a blotter, and then spun around in her
chair to stare out her window.

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“But I was watching them....”

“Obviously not. We’re terminating your contract.”

Shocked, Sam’s jaw dropped open. ‘Fired’ rang through her brain,

swimming through a foggy mass of pea soup. Dizzy, she clutched the arms
of the chair. “This is overly harsh. Kids will be kids....”

“And you are--were--their teacher, the adult assigned to be in charge.”

Bitter, she thrust her chin up, refusing to let Boyd see just how her

heart ached. “I’m a good teacher. Those kids mean the world to me.”

“Perhaps it’s time to explore a new profession. You’re not cut out to

mold so many impressionable minds. If I hadn’t walked into your classroom
when I did, who knows what else would have happened? Just think if that
snake had attacked a student? Totally unacceptable.”

Dazed, Sam shakily drew herself to her feet. Her career crashed in a

shambles around her feet so loud it was deafening. “Can I appeal?”

“You can, but you won’t win. The welfare of our children is

paramount.”

Sam kept her poise with great difficulty. “Do I get to finish out the

school year?” She wanted to walk away and not look back, but that wouldn’t
be fair to her kids.

Boyd stared at Sam over her reading glasses. “It’s only October. We

cannot possibly let you remain here for another eight months.”

It was a lot to digest, but Sam listened intently with her hands folded

in her lap.

“Did I make myself clear?”

Sam seethed but tried to keep her composure. “Crystal.”

“You may leave now and get that serpent out of my school.” She

shuddered. “I never wanted it here in the first place. I knew it was a dreadful
idea.”

Most science classes kept pet snakes. She was no different than any

other science teacher. Well, except that she was unemployed.

Sam folded her hands primly in her lap, and dug her finger nails into

her palms, pricking blood. It was that or scream out her frustration. “May I
have a letter of reference?”

The supercilious woman yanked off her glasses and tossed them on

her desk. “You must not have been listening, Miss Wagner. I cannot
endanger any student by recommending you to teach anywhere, therefore, I
must decline.”

Seething, Sam stood. “I will appeal. Do I get severance at least?”

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The principal pushed her com button and stood. She stared icily at

Samantha. “Daisy, please send escort to help Miss Wagner off the
premises.” To Sam, she said, “Stop by the accounting office on your way
out. I’ll speak to the accountant.”

Trying to be grateful for small blessings, Sam nodded and bit back a

caustic reply. “Thank you.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Enter,” Principal Boyd said.

Gifford, the school security guard walked inside, his blue uniform

starchly pressed, and his black boots highly polished. “You called, ma’am?”

Boyd nodded. “Yes. Please accompany Miss Wagner to her desk and

stay with her while she clears out her desk. Don’t let her touch the computer.
Let me know as soon as you’ve seen her off the property.”

The guard deferentially tilted his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

Feeling like public enemy number one, Sam chafed. She followed the

man at four paces.

Three hours later when she arrived at her house, she tried to sneak

upstairs so she didn’t have to face her sister and Dylan and their I-told-you-
so’s. But Shantel was descending the stairs as she climbed up and they
nearly collided.

“You look like death-warmed-over so don’t tell me not to worry.

What happened?”

Oh, nothing much. I only got canned on my ass.

She felt like Eve,

leaving the Garden of Eden because of the serpent, forever banished from
her home. She tried to bluff her way past Shantel, but her voice wobbled.
“Just a little problem at school.”

Shantel frowned and put her hand on Sam’s forearm. “Want to talk

about it? You won’t even have to pay long distance to Ma Belle.”

Sam tried to smile at her sister’s lame joke, but couldn’t force the

corners of her mouth to crook up. She didn’t want to think about her
miserable day. She just wanted to climb into bed, down a bag of chocolate
and watch horror movies where she could superimpose the principal’s face
on all the victims. “I got canned. Fired. Terminated. My career is kaput.”

Shantel put a comforting arm around Sam’s shoulders and stroked her

hair. “I’m so sorry, honey. Did something else blow up?”

“What blew up?” Dylan poked his head around the stairwell, staring

unabashedly.

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“Nothing blew up.” Did no one listen to her that she hadn’t exploded

anything in years? It wasn’t her fault if her students experienced the
occasional mishap.

Shantel led her downstairs to the living room and gently pushed her

down onto the love seat. Then she claimed a seat opposite. “So why’d they
let you go?”

“They let you go?” Anger sparking in his coal-black eyes, Dylan

whistled long and low.

The last thing Sam needed was to hear echoes of the awful news.

Pursing her lips, she nodded and sank to the stairs. “Yep. They let me go and
will probably black ball me from ever teaching again. They wouldn’t even
give me a letter of reference. I’m lucky I got that pittance they call
severance. I’ll be fortunate if I can get a job teaching night school.”

Shantel scooted forward on her perch, her concerned gaze rapt on

Sam. “What happened that was so terrible to merit that?”

Sam sank back into the cushions and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“The science lab got a bit messed up and Baby, the snake, got out of his cage
and scared the principal out of her wits.”

“How’d Baby get free?” Dylan crossed his arms over his chest,

listening intently.

As she relived the nightmare, her temples throbbed. “Remember that

hover craft I thought the kids would like so much? Oh they loved them all
right. My two biggest troublemakers thought it’d be fun to strap real mice to
them and shoot them at the girls. One thing led to another, and all the girls
were screaming, jumping on desks, and upending furniture, until Baby’s
aquarium was busted and he escaped. Of course the principal had to show up
just as Baby was making his getaway through the door.”

Dylan towered over her looking almost as distraught as she felt. “So

what will you do now? Can you fight it?”

Thoroughly dispirited, Sam shrugged. Exhaustion hung heavy in her

voice. “I’ll appeal for all the good that’ll do me. Maybe I’ll just go back to
Ohio with Shantel and take up teaching there. Or maybe I’ll change careers.”

“What would you do?”

Good question.

What else was she qualified for? “Demolitions

expert?”

Shantel moved over to the loveseat and took Sam into her arms and

rocked gently with her. “Stop that!”

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Sam groaned, just wanting to be alone with her misery. She started to

rise. “I’m going to bed.” Forever…

Dylan blocked her way. “You need some cheering up.”

By him?

Alarm bells went off in her head.

“He’s right. How about we go out for your favorite dinner?”

Numb, Sam’s brain was too tired to keep up the small talk. “No

thanks. I’d be lousy company.”

“Let us worry about that.” Dylan reached out to her, but then let his

hand drop to his side.

“Just let me die,” Sam wailed, half meaning it.

“No one’s going to die on my watch.” Dylan moved toward her as if

he was going to throw her over his shoulder caveman style if she didn’t put
on a happy face.

Daring him, she refused to move.

He scowled. “So you’re going to just give in and let them win?

You’ve got more spunk than that.”

His faith was flattering but not enough to make up for her lost career.

Reluctantly she rose to her feet, not sure this was a good idea. “So where
does one go to celebrate getting fired?”

“Drop the sarcasm. Flip doesn’t become you.” Dylan clasped her hand

and led her to the front door.

Flip and morose mixed about as well as barbiturates and alcohol. But

she was past caring.

“Didn’t you say there were a couple places down here to get good jerk

pork?” her sister asked extracting her keys from her pocket.

“Jerk pork?” Dylan glanced at her sister as if he’d gone daft. “She

needs more of a pick me up than that.”

“This food will fuel her soul.” Hunger tinged her sister’s voice as her

step resumed its bounce.

Bed still sounded like the better idea. If she was lucky, she’d slip into

a coma. “I’d rather just drink my food, straight up.”

“You don’t drink.” Dylan gave her a reprimanding look.

“I think it’s high time to start. What’s the best bar in town?”

“This isn’t the Samantha we know and love.” Dylan put slight

pressure on her elbow as he ushered her toward the door.

Love?

She hadn’t done anything to encourage him. Just the opposite.

Of course, this was just an expression…

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“Darn right. The Samantha you knew was gainfully employed.” This

Samantha was a failure who couldn’t keep two high school boys in line, who
had a talent for destroying science labs, and who was a burden on society.

There was one bright spot…she wouldn’t be needing any more pickle

juice. She started to cackle hysterically. Attractive she knew, but she
couldn’t stop.

“Snap out of it. One lousy job isn’t the end of the world.” Dylan put

his arm around her waist, supporting her, sobering her. But didn’t he know
that his touch was addictive? The more he touched her, the more she needed
to lean on him.

True, one lousy job wouldn’t constitute the end of all life as she knew

it. But this had been a primo job, barring a couple of notable exceptions.
“Maybe not one job, but we’re discussing my career.”

“I’m sure this isn’t the end of your career. Teachers are in demand.”

Shantel perked up and hope lit her eyes. “They’re begging for

teachers. You’ll get snapped right up.”

Not if they checked her last job …

Dylan stroked his jaw as he gazed down at her. “You know what helps

me when I’m down?”

She was afraid to ask so kept her mouth shut.

“I like to hammer. The louder I bang, the better I feel.” Dylan helped

her into the front of her sister’s rental car and then slid into the back seat.

So now she’d be listening to the cadence and volume of his

hammering, trying to judge his moods …

Half an hour later, Dylan escorted she and her sister into the Jerk

Machine in downtown Ft. Lauderdale. He led them to a secluded wooden
corner booth hidden by several large potted palms. Jamaican accented voices
muffled Bob Marley’s music.

When the waitress came to take their order, Sam sank against the back

of the hard seat and instructed, “Drown my pork in your oldest Scotch,
please.”

Dylan scowled as Shantel jabbed her hard in the ribs.

Dylan whispered something to the order taker. Then he said louder,

“She’ll take a diet cola.”

“I can order for myself, thank you.” Sam pretended to study the menu,

and then said very authoritatively, “I’ll have a Coke heavy on the rum.”

The young woman shuffled her feet and looked askance at Dylan who

was shaking his head. “We, uh, don’t serve liquor on the premises.”

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“Pity.” Sam looked up with a hopefulness in her heart. “Do you have

any job openings?”

Both Dylan and Shantel shot venomous looks at her. “Get real,”

Shantel said, rolling her eyes.

Disgusted, Sam threw up her hands. “Well, I have to work

somewhere. Or would you rather have me on the welfare rolls?”

Dylan tugged her hair. “You’ve been saying you want to work on

your doctorate. Why not now?”

Sam’s jaw dropped wide as she stared at Mr. I-Don’t-Believe-In-

Higher-Education. She couldn’t believe her ears. She felt his forehead for
life-threatening fever. “Are you feeling okay?”

Dylan pulled her into a big bear hug close against his heart.

“Obviously much better than you. Well? It’s time to put your money where
your mouth is.”

“What money?” Sam let the fight go out of her and laid her cheek

against Dylan’s chest and took comfort in his steady heartbeat. “I’m
unemployed, remember? Doctoral school costs more than I can afford on
unemployment.”

“Snap out of it, girl!” Shantel pushed Sam’s drink at her as the

waitress sat their glasses on the table. “I’m tired of hearing ‘poor me, pity
me’ from my big sister. That principal’s a jerk and from this moment on, I
forbid you to think about her.”

Sam lifted her head fractionally. “But....”

“No buts. I’ll help you fill out your applications when we get home

and we’ll mail them off tomorrow.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile at her sister’s naiveté. “It takes a bit more

time than one day to fill out.”

Dylan’s warm breath scorched Sam’s neck as he asked huskily, “I

thought you’d started on them already?”

True

. She’d not been thrilled with the local PhD programs nor had she

wanted to sell her grandmother’s house and leave Ft. Lauderdale … or
Dylan

… so she’d never mailed them off. “I started. I just never finished.”

“Time to finish now.” Shantel chewed on a piece of the pork, and the

spicy orange sauce dripped down her chin.

Dylan pointed at her plate. “Eat up. We’ll both help you fill them out

when you get home. Where to? FAU or FIU?”

Sam pulled away from Dylan, instantly missing his warmth. She

cursed the chilly air conditioning and wished she had brought a sweater.

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Averting her gaze, she said, “Actually, I always had my heart set on
University of Cincinnati.”

Dylan froze for several seconds. Finally he said, “Cincinnati, huh?”

He pushed away his plate and stared at her as Shantel’s narrowed gaze ping-
ponged between them. “What about your house?”

Shantel rushed in. “UC’s a great school. Mama’d love it if you move

back home.”

Sam glared at her transparent sister. “But you’re all hot to move down

here. I’m sure Mama will miss you, too.”

“I can keep an eye on your house. Or you can rent it out.”

Dylan picked up a piece of his chicken and turned it over as if he’d

rather look at it than her. “If you decide to rent it out, I know someone who
can help.”

So now he was eager to get rid of her? “Great!” she pretended to be

cheery even though her heart was sinking into a quagmire. “It’s good to have
options.”

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Chapter Eight

Dylan kicked himself for pushing Sam into moving away when all he

wanted for her to do was stay. If he thought it would help to get on his knees
and prostrate himself, he’d do it in a second.

The big day of the GED exam finally arrived, and nervous, he filed

into the testing center. He wished now he’d told Sam so he’d have a
cheering section. On the other hand, he was glad he’d kept his mouth shut in
case he failed. Although he was good in mathematics, he sucked at English.

Hours later, drained and relieved that at least he’d tried, Dylan

emerged into the afternoon sunshine. He was caught up on his jobs for Jay,
so he turned the truck toward Sam’s house. When he spied both cars in the
drive, his heart leapt. Whistling, he hopped down from the cab and sauntered
up to the house.

When Sam answered his special rap, he basked in her gleaming

beauty and asked, “You ready to go look at tile and carpet for the porch?
I’ve got a couple hours to spare. We can go now.”

She turned and looked longingly in the direction of her porch. “No job

means no money for flooring.” She opened the door wider and motioned for
him to enter the house. “Entrez-vous, monsieur.”

He stepped into the air conditioned coolness and sniffed

appreciatively, loving the rich smells that always permeated Sam’s house.

She led the way to her kitchen and turned to her stewing pot that sat

only a few inches from a pan of freshly baked, mouth-watering corn bread.
“Have you had lunch?”

His stomach grumbled, answering for him. “Nope. I just came from

my … appointment.”

Shantel swept into the room clucking her tongue. “Surprise, surprise.

Another appointment.”

“Hi to you, too,” Dylan mumbled ready to stuff his GED in her face.

The only thing that held him back is that he wanted to tell Sam alone, in
much more special circumstances--when and if he passed.

Shantel took up a position in the center of himself and Sam. “It won’t

hurt just to find out how much it costs.”

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“Shopping’s depressing when I can’t spend money.” Sam gazed into

her pot as if it was a magic cauldron as she stirred it slower and slower.

He had to try harder. He crossed around Shantel, ignoring her snarl,

and massaged Sam’s shoulders, frowning at how tense they were. “Come on.
It’ll be fun.”

“Maybe I can help. I am living here after all.” Shantel bared her teeth

at him.

“Guess I should find out how much everything will be to fix up the

house so I can sell it.”

His heart stopped beating, his fingers refused to move, and he echoed

dumbly, “Sell the house? I thought you were going to mull that over. You
can’t seriously be thinking of moving to Ohio? Florida’s always crying out
for science teachers. You’ll find a better position in your field in no time.
Have you applied for any teaching positions locally?”

Sam shook her head. “There’s no use. Boyd’s blackballing me. The

school board wouldn’t take my application seriously.”

He had a notion to give that principal a piece of his mind. Gently, he

turned Sam to face him and stared down into her eyes. “You don’t know that
till you try. What can it hurt?”

Sam’s shoulders slumped. “My pride.”

“Pride won’t pay the mortgage. It won’t make you feel better if you

change your mind later. Forget your pride and go for the job.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said without a trace of enthusiasm, turning

away from him and stirring the pot again.

At least she hadn’t cast a hex on him.

“I guess I should see what kind of expense I’m looking at to fix up the

house. Do you know any trustworthy contractors that are reasonably
priced?”

He didn’t want to help her move away from him, but neither did he

like it when she turned to someone else when he could handle it. “I said I’d
help.”

She turned back to him and gazed up soberly. “It took you over a

month of working on my porch in your spare time to fix it. You work for a
living, too.”

How many times did he have to pound it into her head that he would

always be there for her? “Let me worry about that. I’ll be fine.”

“I-I don’t know. You’re too good to be true, to your own detriment

sometimes.”

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Something warm and tingly started glowing inside him. She thought

he was too good to be true.

He pulled her against him and tousled her hair. It was either that or

capture her lips in a searing kiss. He refused to examine his motives or why
he was suddenly breathless at just the thought of tasting Sam’s lips. He
couldn’t wait to get her away from her watchdog of a sister. “Let’s go price
the supplies. Do you know what all you want done to the house?”

Her lips twisted wryly. “I might as well dream of building a magic

castle.”

“We’ll just look and cost things out.”

“I guess that can’t hurt.” They ate hurriedly and then she took him on

a tour of a room with faded, patchy wallpaper, a cracked window, rusty
plumbing, and worn carpet. He also noted disturbing creaks in her stairs.

She punched everything into her PDA and kept a running tally. The

tapping of the stylus on the screen annoyed him, but it seemed a handy
enough gadget otherwise. Maybe this was one computer-type widget that
wasn’t completely evil.

An hour later when they had finished the list, Sam headed for the back

yard and called out the door to her sister who had finally stopped dogging
them to play in her new garden where she was growing a louffa plant.
“We’re running to Home Depot to price some supplies. Want to come with
us?”

Shantel turned at the sound of Sam’s voice and waved. “You two run

along. I need to work on this.”

As they moseyed about the home store, he felt right looking at

household appliances with Sam. He didn’t like it when other men turned
appreciative eyes on her. He wanted to tell each and every one to keep their
eyes to themselves. Unfortunately, she’d hate that.

He tried to think of a plan to keep Sam in Florida. He made a mental

list of what she wanted. One, a new, better job. Two, a love interest. He tried
not to snarl at that one, but it was a challenge. Three. Three, a doctoral
program in South Florida that met her approval. Four? He didn’t know what
four would be. Perhaps to have her mother move down here so they could be
together.

He should’ve have dawdled repairing the porch. He held out his hand

for the PDA. “Let me see your list.”

She handed the PDA to him and he had to squint at the small print.

The lavatories needed gutting and remodeling so he headed for that aisle.

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“How fancy did you want to make the restrooms?” He eyed the tubs large
enough for two with the Jacuzzi jets. He pointed to one that would fit the
two of them comfortably. “Something like this would really add to the resale
value of your house. A couple could make love in there quite comfortably.”

A delicious bloom rose in Sam’s cheeks and she ran her hands over

the smooth surface. How he wished she was running those hands over him
instead. Hope flared in her eyes for a few seconds and then sizzled. “It’s
nice, but none of my bathrooms are large enough.”

Patiently, he explained it to her. “Not a huge problem. We can always

knock out walls and change room sizes.”

“But that sounds like major remodeling. That’d take forever. And if

I’m not going to get the enjoyment…”

He hoped to persuade her into staying. If he made her house beautiful

enough, she couldn’t leave. If he proved himself useful enough, hopefully
she’d view him with new eyes, too. “It won’t as long as you might think.”

Wincing, she fingered the hefty price tag. “It’s moot anyway as I

certainly can’t afford these prices.” Her shoulders sagging, she turned her
back on it and walked over to the el cheapo sinks.

Think man!

He groped for a way. “You could take out a second

mortgage. Or you could ask your family for a loan.” He didn’t know what
kind of savings Shantel had, but she didn’t appear to be a pauper. Paupers
didn’t talk about buying new houses.

Paling, she visibly recoiled. “Oh, I couldn’t ask Shantel for a loan.”

“Why not? Family’s help each other all the time.”

She veiled her eyes with her beautiful, lush lashes, and squirmed.

“Shantel’s going through a nasty divorce. I don’t know her financial status
and I can’t heap my problems on top of hers.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sam looked up at him with heartbreak welling in her eyes. “It’s not

my story to tell. If she wanted you to know, she’d tell you.”

Considering that her sister gazed at him with derision and anger most

of the time, he didn’t expect to be taken into her confidences any time soon.
At least he had an idea of why she scorned him so much.

He couldn’t bear to see Sam so torn up, though, and he longed to

soothe her. Enveloping her in his arms, her hair felt so silky beneath his
hands. Her body felt so slight as it trembled against him. “Your sister’s a
survivor. She’ll be okay.”

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“I don’t know.” Sam’s words were buried against his chest so that he

barely caught them. “She’s taking this really hard.”

“We can go somewhere to talk about this in private if you like.” He

waited for her response.

Sam shook her head and took a step back, bumping into a shelf. “I

really can’t. She’d never forgive me.”

“If you change your mind....” He’d always be there for her, just as

she’d been there for him when he’d most needed her when he was cut off
from the rest of the world. “For now, why don’t we just gather the prices of
your first and second choices? Tell me what you like and sometimes I find
things in the other houses I’m remodeling that people are throwing out, that
you can get for cheap or free. Then I’ll have an idea what you like.”

Sniffing, she lifted her head, and nodded. “Okay. I guess that won’t

hurt.”

He started to say ‘good girl’ but decided that would be an insult to

such a stunning woman so he consoled himself with squeezing her shoulder.
“Good, now jot down that price, under a heading like ‘Master Bathroom’.”

Her stylus tapped away and he felt like he was in the middle of a Star

Trek episode. Her brow puckered as she lifted her head and regarded him
curiously. “I should just sell the place to those Cavemen people that
advertise on TV that they buy houses in any condition.”

He sucked in his breath. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Because his heart would shrivel up and die if she left him. “Those

shysters will rip you off big time. They make their fortune giving you rock
bottom dollar.”

“It might be worth it to get out without a hassle. Then I’d have money

to put down on a house up north.”

“Of course that’s an option, but you’re not that desperate yet.” Was

she? He hoped the hell not. “Just hold the thought.”

She peered into space. “Maybe a student loan might tide me over

while I work on my doctorate. If Shantel helps me out with the mortgage, it
might just work.”

He grasped at the ray of light. “Lots of people do that. Just don’t rush

into anything.”

* * * *

Sam wanted to rush back into Dylan’s arms, but she’d heed his

advice. She couldn’t trust her head any more than her heart these days.

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Her mind whirled in mass confusion. What should she do? Where

should she live? What PhD program should she enroll in? She desperately
wanted to get her head on straight and put her life back on track.

But she supposed Dylan was right that she shouldn’t rush into

anything when her emotions were so raw and her thoughts so jumbled she
couldn’t string coherent thoughts together. She missed her kids. She felt
betrayed.

When they got home, she rushed to her computer and turned it on. She

signed online and pulled up both the FAU and FIU curriculum. Feeling
easier now that she’d decided to stay in Florida for her studies and not to
make any rash decisions about selling that house until after graduation, she
perused the class offerings. Wanting to hug Dylan, she hugged herself
instead. Her life was back on track. She had purpose again. Her future
loomed bright.

Dylan leaned on the back of her chair and she felt like she was going

to flip over on her head. With a screech and a somersault of her heart, she
clutched the arms of the chair. “What do you think you’re doing? Are you
trying to kill me?”

His deep husky laugh burrowed into her heart. “What are you looking

at?”

Her previous giddiness reasserted itself and she scooted her chair back

to the desk. She pointed to the computer screen. “I think I’m going to apply
at FAU. You’re right. I shouldn’t make hasty decisions while I’m still so
raw. It’ll take time to fix up the house and I’m not sure I want to part with it.
I need time to think.”

Dylan grabbed her up into his arms and spun her around. Then he

lowered his mouth and captured her lips in a dizzying kiss.

She was sucked into a whirlpool of cascading emotions she never

wanted to end. Lost in the wonder, she snuggled closer against his heart,
ready to relinquish hers. She looped her arms around his neck and held onto
him tightly. She pressed closer, molding herself to him in a perfect fit.
Vaguely she marveled that she fit more perfectly to him than she did to
Jamal or Michael or any man of her race.

She loved how he kissed, with his whole body, his entire soul, giving

his all to her in a magical gift. No one had kissed her that way. She was
surprised that she wasn’t more amazed. The kiss seemed a natural extension
to the closeness they’d built in their long, intimate correspondence. It was an
answer to the secret longings of her heart that she’d kept under lock and key.

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Swaying with him, she didn’t care if he carried her to her bedroom.

Moaning into his mouth, she gave herself over to her wanton desires. She’d
be upset if he didn’t take her upstairs.

Someone cleared their throat harshly nearby.

Startled, her nerves dancing on hot coals, Sam’s heart stopped. Then it

sped up to mach speed. Gasping for air, she tore herself from Dylan’s arms
and stared at the intruder with eyes so wide they ached.

“Girl, you’re surely going to break our mama’s heart. You promised

me you wouldn’t go and fall in love with that man and here you’re ready to
rip his clothes off right in front of me.” Shantel clamped her fists on her slim
hips in her most hostile stance. “I don’t believe you.”

Sam tried to gather her scattered wits.

Dylan’s brows drew together. “You promised her what?”

“That she wouldn’t get romantic with a whi--” Shantel cut off her

words and splayed her hands wide.

Dylan swore under his breath. He looked from Shantel to Sam, and

asked, “Is this why you’ve been fighting me? Because of your family?”

Abashed, feeling rotten and more confused than ever, Sam wrung her

hands together. “That’s only part of the reason. I told you....”

“Oh, I remember.”

The sarcasm dripping from his lips felt like acid raining down.

“I’m the wrong skin tone and I’m an uneducated loser. The double

whammy.” Dylan started to stomp away, muttering under his breath. Then
with an exclamation, he turned back to her. “For your information, all those
appointments I’ve been going to are really high school classes. I took them
for you. I thought maybe I’d impress you by getting my high school
diploma, maybe even taking some college classes.”

Stunned, Sam didn’t know what to say. Words stuck in her throat so

she just stared as his words reverberated in her head. He’d gone back to
school for her. For her…

“Dylan....”

Dylan punched his fist in the air. “No. Let me finish.” He paced the

floor like a caged lion, ready to leap on his prey at the first hint of
provocation. “I’m building a successful business. I have more jobs than I can
do on my own so I now employ six men. I pay a ton of taxes. I’m making it
just fine without a fancy education, but I still don’t measure up, do I?”

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His fury hit her full force in the face and she was knocked back by its

fierceness. Did he love or despise her? She’d swear it was some of both. “I-I
didn’t know. I....”

Shantel tried to pull her away. “You don’t need this. Men are all

alike.”

Sam’s rapidly growing anger turned on her sister. “Butt out. We have

to figure this out on our own.”

Shantel paled and backed away slowly. “I’ll be right upstairs if you

need me. Just call out.”

“Don’t leave on my account.” Dylan marched past them. “I was just

going. I have a business to run.”

Sam started to follow but Shantel hissed at her, “Don’t you go chasing

after him. Not after all his lies.”

Sam gulped back a sob. Why hadn’t he told her? He used to confide

everything in her, not just events, but his most fervent hopes and dreams.
And now he’d kept two such very important landmarks in his life from her
only to spill out in anger.

“You have my number. Call when you need more house repairs.” He

slammed out the door, knocking her prized oil painting off the foyer wall.

Not on her life …

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Chapter Nine

Nina barged into Sam’s house and flung her arms around Sam, almost

squeezing her to death. “How am I going to survive without you at school?”

Sam squeezed Nina back having powerfully missed her. “I’m still in

the area.”

“But you’re not at the school. I’ll have to put up with that insufferable

Brady alone every day,” Nina whispered sticking her finger down her throat
in gag-me fashion and made retching noises.

Sam chortled and patted her friend’s back consolingly. “I know.

You’re strong. Just ignore her. You can call and email me as much as you
like. And we’ll hang out after class.”

“I’ll fill your box with emails. You’ll get a bellyful from me.”

Shantel wandered into the room. She stuck out her hand in greeting

and fixed a large smile on her face. “Hi. I’m Shantel, Sam’s little sister.”

Sam returned the smile. “Sis, I’d like you to meet my good friend

Nina Rodriguez. She teaches history at my school. I mean at my old school.”

Nina juggled the box in her arms and stuck out her hand in greeting.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Of course, you look like twins so I’d know
you were sisters. What do you think about that storm brewing out in the
Caribbean?”

“Storm? This late in October?” Shantel darted an alarmed glance out

the back window at the sunny blue skies. “What storm?”

“It’s a tropical depression at the moment but the weather station’s

predicting she’ll be upgraded to a Tropical Storm. Her name will be Wanda
when she strengthen. The projected path leads her straight to Fort
Lauderdale.”

Sam blinked and rewound over everything she knew about storms. “I

guess it’s possible to have one so late in the year, but it’s so unusual.”

Nina screwed up her lips and followed her into the living room. She

stared out at the canal. “The past couple of years have been unusual.”

Shantel paced the room with her hands linked behind her back. “It’s

almost Halloween. I thought it was safe to come down here now.”

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Sam turned on the TV and flipped through the stations until she

reached the weather channel. Disbelief still warred with the scientific data
running through her head. “Ft. Lauderdale’s not had a major storm since the
1960’s. The most we ever get now are the outer bands.”

“It’s gotta be our turn sometime. Maybe our luck’s running out.” Nina

walked over to the TV and put her finger in the middle of the tracking cone.
“See? We’re dead center.”

Shantel shuddered and held herself as she stared at the newscaster

giving the broadcast. “You’re scaring me.”

Sam tried to mitigate the damage and console her sister. “Those cones

always shift. Beside, do you see the crazy path they’re projecting? It’s going
over to Mexico first. It’ll probably just keep going and fizzle out over land.
They usually do.”

Nina stared as if mesmerized at the weather report. “You weren’t here

for Andrew.”

Sam looked back into her memory about Hurricane Andrew’s history.

“Andrew hit Miami. It only grazed Broward County.”

It was Nina’s turn to shudder. “I lived down in Miami when Andrew

came through. It was terrible. We lost our home and moved up here after
that.”

Oh

. Sam hadn’t known that. She listened to the report more and

breathed a sigh of relief. “Even if it comes our way, they’re predicting a two
at most. It’s no Andrew.”

Nina visibly relaxed. “A two’s not too bad.” Then she sobered. “We

still need to watch this. Do you have hurricane shutters? Batteries and water?
If you wait for that thing to turn around, all the supplies will be flying off the
shelves.”

Sam didn’t appreciate all the hysteria. The thing was heading away

from them for Heaven’s sake. “No one boarded up for the two that came this
way last year.” Except for the crazy neighbor next door that everyone had
sniggered at.

Nina didn’t look appeased. “Luckily for us it veered north to West

Palm Beach. My cousin was out of power for a month. It was a mess up
there. You’re new down here. Take my advice. Prepare.”

“Better yet, let’s get out of here. Ohio doesn’t look so bad after all.”

Shantel continued to stare outside as if fascinated. “It’s so beautiful out
there. There’s no sign of a storm. There’s not even a breeze.”

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Sam had to agree. The palm trees were perfectly still. The canal was

completely placid. The skies were blue with straggly white clouds that
couldn’t hold a tear drop.

Nina raised her brows at them. “Ever heard of the calm before the

storm?”

* * * *

A couple days later Sam was nonplussed when Dylan traipsed into her

house carrying his tool kit and dragging in huge pieces of plywood. She
followed him to the living room sliding glass doors. “What do you think
you’re doing?”

“Boarding up your house in preparation for the hurricane. I didn’t see

any shutters in your garage.”

“No need to bother. The storm’s still heading away from us.” She

pointed at the weather report on the television screen that she’d been
monitoring.

He set the tool box down with a clang and stared at her as if she’d

committed mass homicide. “We’re still dead center in the middle of the
cone. You saw the devastation in New Orleans?”

“Of course.” She’d made donations to help the evacuees despite her

meager bank account. “But even if this storm doubles back, it’s not a
monster like Katrina.”

“Katrina wasn’t a monster at this point, either. Once that thing gets

back into the Gulf, it’s going to pick up strength. By the time it gets close
enough to tell how bad it’s going to be, it’ll be too late to make preparations.
You need to board up while the boarding up’s good.”

Annoyed, she waved her hand in the air. “I thought you were too busy

running your business.”

He grimaced. “Are you or your sister capable of boarding up by

yourself? Do you have someone else lined up to help you?”

She hated to admit defeat, but she wasn’t one to lie either. “No.” But

maybe Michael would help her if she asked. If she needed to, which she
didn’t.

He stared down at her for a long time and finally captured her hands

in his. His pale skin on hers only made hers gleam darker, making her heart
sore all over again. “Then stop arguing and let me help. I’m sorry I lost my
cool the other day. This thing is just making me crazy.”

Me too.

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She slid a nervous glance to the TV. “Do you honestly think we need

to worry?”

“Better to be safe than sorry. I’d rather put the boards up and you not

need them than you not have them if we get a direct hit.”

“But the news is saying it’ll probably only be a one. And it’s coming

in from the west coast so it’ll weaken more by the time it reaches us--if it
comes this way.”

Dylan rubbed his thumb across her knuckles as if trying to lull her to

his way of thinking. “Just humor me.”

Would a few nails in her old house really hurt so badly? The only

thing that would hurt, she admitted to herself, was having Dylan so close
when they were so far apart.

“Do you honestly have time? You’re so busy with your other jobs…”

“I’m making the time for you.”

Her heart warmed, even if he only meant professionally. She nodded.

“Okay. I just hate to see you go to so much work for nothing.”

Dylan crossed his fingers. “Let’s hope it’s for nothing.”

She echoed that. Deep down in her heart, she didn’t feel any need to

fear. She’d been through storms before and she was still standing. The
tornadoes in Ohio hadn’t gotten her yet, so why should a weakling category
one hurricane?

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Chapter Ten

Groggy from sleeping in late, Sam picked up the insistent phone and

wanted to growl.

“Sammy! Have you been monitoring the storm?” Nina sounded more

agitated than she had in years.

“Not this morning yet.” Sam glanced at her alarm clock and groaned.

Nina well knew she liked to sleep in on Saturdays.

“Turn on the TV. Wanda’s a cat two now and definitely coming our

way,” Nina said breathlessly, on the precipice of being panicky.

“No way. She was only a Tropical Storm last night. But no worries.

Dylan’s already boarded up my house so I’m ready.”

“Tell that to Wanda. The reports I’m hearing say she could be a three

when she makes landfall. And who knows what’ll happen once she gets out
into the warm waters of the Gulf and gains strength? Can you believe we
have a ‘W’ storm this year? Unbelievable.”

Sam leaned over and grabbed the remote control off her nightstand

and clicked on the television. She surfed stations until she came to her
favorite local news station. She clung on the weather man’s words with
growing disbelief. She mumbled, “We’re still dead center in the cone of
influence.”

Nina gulped audibly. “When’s she supposed to hit?”

Unable to unglue herself from the news, Sam sank back against her

pillows as she became mesmerized by the satellite images of Wanda
whirling her way across the Gulf.

“Did you stock up on hurricane supplies yet? Can you take me to the

supermarket? My car’s in the shop again.”

Mentally going over her small stash of canned goods and chips, Sam

allowed herself a smug smile. “I have plenty for the three of us to ride out
the storm if she comes our way. Why don’t you stay with me and Shantel?”

“If she comes our way, we should go to a shelter.”

Shudders racked Sam. What a dreadful thought. “A shelter?” She’d

heard about the Super Dome with its filth and rapes and riots. She’d rather

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brave the storm. It wasn’t like Ft. Lauderdale was threatened by a levy or as
if it was under sea level. “No thank you.”

“Listen to me,” Nina said with more force than Sam had ever heard

her use. “I lived through Andrew. Hurricanes are nothing to fool around
with. I’m going to shelter at Coral Springs High.”

“If it’s really that bad, shouldn’t we leave? Shantel’s talking about

driving up to Ohio.” Sam nibbled on her nails.

“And get stuck in her car? The traffic’s already probably backed up all

the way to Atlanta. Didn’t you see how clogged Houston got before Rita?
Unless you can hop on a plane before tomorrow night, forget getting out of
here and start hunkering down.”

Sam didn’t appreciate Nina’s frenzy. If this thing was so bad, why

weren’t her neighbors reacting? Why was she the only one on the street with
a boarded up house?

“Good.” Nina heaved a loud sigh. “The longer we wait, the less

supplies will be on the shelves.”

“Just let me get on my shoes and I’ll pick you up in a few. Be ready.”

When they reached the grocery store an hour later, the aisles were as

placid as the glass-like canal behind her house. Well-stocked shelves
bemoaned a lack of customers. Only a few people strolled leisurely through
the store.

She couldn’t help herself. Pirouetting, Sam splayed her hands. “Where

are the stampedes?”

Nina frowned and shook her head as she piled her cart high with food

and paper supplies. “They’ll be sorry.” Nina play punched Sam’s shoulder.
“Stop looking at me like I was Chicken Little. If you’d lived through
Andrew, you’d know the sky could fall.”

Sam counted at least a dozen cans of tinned tuna and five economy-

size boxes of toaster-type pastries that could be eaten cold. “Are you
planning to feed an army?”

Nina paused with a box of cereal bars half-way to the cart. “We need

enough non-perishable food to eat for at least a month. We were out of
electric for six weeks after Andrew.”

Andrew, Andrew, Andrew! Sam was thoroughly sick of the name!

Sam’s cell phone burst out in a tinny rendition of a Backstreet Boys

Song, and happy to escape Nina’s suffocating anxiety, she reached for it.

“Sam?” Dylan’s worried voice boomed through the air. “Where are

you?”

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“We’re battling it out at the grocery store. It’s not a pretty site,” Sam

drawled, trying not to laugh.

“Have you been watching the news? Where are you going to shelter?

I’d invite you to stay with me, but my place is in an evacuation zone.”

She sobered instantly. Again with the hurricane. Could no one talk

about anything else?

More importantly, was he hinting about sleeping in her house? With

her? She doubted he was thinking of a slumber party…

Nina resumed her attack on the defenseless food, throwing several

boxes of crackers and cookies onto her growing mound of wares.

Looking heavenward, Sam pushed the heavy fall of her hair behind

her shoulders. “Nina and I were just discussing staying at shelter if the storm
comes.”

Her friend glanced up and made the shame on you sign with her

fingers as she mouthed, “Liar.”

“I’d advise it. Pack up a bedroll and food enough for three or four

days. You, Shantel, and your friend be ready to go when I call.”

Sam’s heart danced a little jig even as her nerves flayed. He couldn’t

be serious. “You’re going to the shelter with us?”

“I have to hold up somewhere. Why not with you?”

She ambled down the aisle to find a bit of privacy and turned so that

her back faced her friend. “Are you really worried about this storm?”

“Yeppers. Remember I fix houses. You’d be amazed how many

homes collapsed up in West Palm Beach last year after the category two that
ripped through there. You don’t have one safe room in your house. They all
have windows.”

Ohio looked better and better and she had a sudden hankering to visit

her mother. A plane ride sounded increasingly appealing. She fully expected
Wanda to fizzle out or veer away as the paths always fluctuated.

“If you don’t mind I’ll bring over my generator. Do you have extra

gas and propane?”

“Are you moving in?” The moment the words left her lips, she wished

them back. They were only half sarcastic. She’d feel safer with a man in the
house if the world really did come to an end as he predicted.

She’d feel better with him in the house. Biting back a moan, she

massaged her forehead. Lordy, I’m my own worst enemy.

“If you really think it’s necessary.”

“Better safe than sorry. I’ll bring it over after I finish up on this job.”

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That reminded her… “On the condition, you tell me all about your

new company.”

“Deal.” Dylan sounded excited and pleased.

She caught his enthusiasm, or was it his hysteria? They were all living

on their nerve endings.

Nina tapped her arm and tilted her head at the registers. “Meet me in

line.”

After they lugged the groceries into Sam’s house where Nina had

decided she’d also set up camp after she’d learned about the generator, Nina
helped her drain the pickle juice and refill the containers with water. Then
they put new batteries in all the radios and battery-powered television.

Dylan wandered in a couple hours later and immediately turned on the

TV.

The familiar newscaster’s voice filled the room. “Dopler Radar shows

that the eye of the storm is strengthening and is now measuring over 130
miles per hour, so that we’re looking at a category four storm. Possible
strengthening could still occur and we could conceivably be looking at a cat
four. Repeat, the storm is strengthening and we could possibly be looking at
a cat four storm. Take immediate precautionary measures. Evacuations of
the beach and low-lying areas are underway.” The newsman recited the list
and location of open shelters in the three-county area along with their
regulations.

Dylan swore loudly. “That does it. We’re not staying in the house.”

Sam’s breath caught in her lungs. “Cat four?”

Nina paled and clutched at the arm of the couch and then slowly sank

down. She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t take another Andrew. I can’t
do it again.”

“We should go to the shelters tonight before there’s no room

available.” Dylan slipped outside and then reentered carting a large
generator.

Sam groaned. “We’re not packed yet.”

“Get packed now. Fill the cooler. We’ll stop for ice on the way.”

Shantel ran into the room. “You guys are scaring me. I’m getting out

while the getting’s good. If you’re smart, you’ll come with me. I’m not
sticking around to face a killer storm like they had in New Orleans.”

Dylan unloaded the machine in the middle of the living room and then

shot a pitying look at her sister. In a sympathetic voice he said, “That time’s

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come and gone. The highways are bound to be parking lots. You’d be safer
staying in this house than being caught in your car.”

Looking as if she was about to faint, Shantel nodded. Then she looked

at Sam. “If this is Florida life, count me out. I’d rather brave the snow and
ice any day.”

Dylan scowled at the women. “What are you waiting for? Get packed

and get to the shelter. I’ll meet you there. Save me a space.”

Sam halted and made a U-turn. She faced off against him. “You’re not

coming with us? I thought we had to go now.”

“To save our space. Don’t worry. The storm won’t be here for at least

a day and I’ll join you in plenty of time before it hits. I still have to get a few
things like gas. The generator won’t do us any good if we run out. And I
want to fill your freezers with ice.”

Nina’s voice echoed from the kitchen, “Those gas lines were murder

after Andrew. Ice was more precious than gold.”

Dylan pulled Sam outside and closed the door. He pulled her close

and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Promise me you’ll hurry up and
go to the shelter. Take your cell phone and the charger. Find a spot next to
an electrical outlet so we don’t have to use the batteries until we absolutely
have to.”

Sam quivered against him and she wanted to lift her lips for a real kiss

to soothe her nerves. Gazing deeply into his eyes, she willed him to be safe.
She didn’t know what she’d do if anything happened to him. Their frenzy
was definitely catching. “Promise me you’ll hurry.”

Dylan’s eyes darkened and he gathered her close against his heart.

“Are you worried about me?”

Not in any shape to pretend otherwise or to fight her own emotions

that were already strung out, she nodded. “Very. To listen to you and Nina,
you’d think this was Armageddon.”

“I hope not.” He enveloped her in a warm hug and stroked her hair.

“We’ll get through this together.”

Together.

She loved the sound of that.

Melting into his arms, her heart sighed. She was getting too used to

this position. She felt too comfy. Too much at home. Too giddy…

Giddy?

With that thing barreling down on them? She was crazy!

Giving into her insanity, she stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on

his lips. When he moved his against hers, she savored the kiss and deepened

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it. She welcomed his tongue when it explored her mouth and performed a
ritual mating dance.

His hands kneaded her back and lowered to her buttocks, pulling her

impossibly close, so that she could feel the hard ridge of his desire, his
feverish flesh. He drank deeply of her paradoxically intoxicating her.

The door opened into them, jarring her out of her cozy, dream-filled

fantasy and she clung to Dylan lest she stumble to her knees.

“I knew it! You’ve been sneaking around behind my back.” Tears

streamed from Shantel’s eyes. “Well, don’t come crying to me when he
breaks your heart. I tried to warn you.” She pushed past them and ran to her
car.

Sam couldn’t deal with two storms. She mouthed “I’m sorry,” to

Dylan and chased down her sister. She caught up to her as Shantel was
yanking open the car door and she pushed it shut. “You heard Dylan. You
can’t risk driving off.”

Shantel snorted. “I’m just getting some important papers out of my

glove box. Just because you’re putting yourself into the path of destruction,
don’t paint me with the same crazy brush.”

Sam was beginning to think that rebuffing Dylan was the more

dangerous route. He’d only ever been helpful and kind, strong and warm,
exciting and sexy…

Lordy!

She had it bad for the man. Why couldn’t she feel this way

about Michael? He was a nice man, too.

He just wasn’t…Dylan.

Biting back a retort, knowing this wasn’t the time to get into it with

her sister, she put her arm through her sister’s and walked with her back to
the house. “Truce? Till after the storm, at least.”

As they passed Dylan on the way in, Shantel cast an evil eye at him.

“It won’t be easy.”

Sam squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m a big girl. I survived losing my

job. I’ll survive whatever comes.”

Shantel turned to the stairs. “Have I been that overbearing?”

Sam bit back a chortle. She craned her neck to look up at the other

woman. “Truth?” When her sister nodded, she said, “You’ve been a regular
pain in the butt. I understand but I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a little
space. We have enough to worry about with the storm.”

The younger woman’s expression softened and she nodded. “I’ll put

the bedding together while you help Nina pack the food.”

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Mindful of Dylan’s advice, Sam hurried. Hoping the high school

didn’t fill up before they arrived, Sam chafed all the way to the shelter. It felt
like hours later when Sam and her squad set up their encampment alongside
several other families. They managed to find space in a classroom, avoiding
the main hall. Spreading their sleeping bags out, Sam felt like they were
joining the army. The floor looked hard and unwelcoming and she wished
she’d had the foresight to buy air mattresses.

She plugged the TV into the wall socket to conserve battery power

and fascinated against her will, she watched the local weather station for
updates. Stressed, tired of the doom and gloom news, she joined Nina and a
group of young teens in a game of dodge ball in the gymnasium. A few of
her former students greeted her eagerly and she was happy to see them.

Against all predictions, the storm sped up. She kept checking her cell

phone, wondering why Dylan hadn’t shown up or called, wondering if
something was wrong with the instrument.

Several hours later, Dylan finally called. “My truck broke down. Can

you send someone to rescue me?”

Between the wind whipping up outside and the loud hum of voices

echoing through the shelter, she had trouble making out his slurred words
and had to ask him to repeat. Her heart pounded ferociously. He couldn’t be
stuck in the tumultuous storm that was growing more powerful by the
second. The guards had announced they weren’t taking risks to rescue
anyone who hadn’t been prudent enough to come to the shelter in due time,
but she was damned if she was going to leave him out there. “Tell me where
you are.”

She scribbled down the directions into her PDA and snuck out of the

room, careful not to disturb her sister or Nina. When she reached the exit,
the shelter workers blocked her way. “You can’t leave.”

Her nostrils flared and her temperature climbed. Her nerves were

stretched so tightly they were about to snap. “But my friend is stuck out
there! His truck broke down.”

“It’s not safe. Our orders are to keep every one inside,” a taciturn

young man said dispassionately.

Sam was ready to jump out of her skin. She had to get to Dylan.

Nothing else mattered. “Please. I’m just going to get my friend and I’ll bring
him right back.”

“You’d better hurry. Once the storm starts in earnest, we can’t open

the doors. We’re almost filled to capacity now.”

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Panic set in. How could they be denied shelter? “Please, I have to go

to him.” If anything happened to him, she’d die.

“What part of no don’t you understand, lady? Now go back inside and

phone it into the police. I’m sure your friend doesn’t want you to be stranded
as well.” They barricaded the door, regarding her with deadpan almost
mechanical eyes.

Screams gurgled in her throat and longed to sentence them to

detention. Instead, she pretended to acquiesce and found a hidden vantage
point from which to watch. When a large family arrived and requested help
to bring in their supplies distracting the watch dogs, she bolted out the door,
and ran for her car.

“Hey! Get back inside. It’s not safe out here.”

Luckily, the guards didn’t give chase, probably counting her as a

crazy casualty. The rain fell fast and furiously making her squint to see past
the squeaking windshield wipers. She chafed at the ten miles per hour she
was forced to drive on the already water logged streets that threatened to
become raging torrents at any time.

As the winds began to howl and scream, palm fronds snapped off

trees and smacked her car. Coconuts hurled through the air like missiles. The
few cars that sloshed through the flooded roads, skidded and slid
dangerously, like her.

Buildings shook visibly and tiles cracked on the roofs. They began to

fly through the air and one cracked her windshield. Her heart stopped and
she screamed. Losing control of the vehicle, she rammed into a sign post.
When the car screeched to the sharp stop, she was flung forward and hit her
head on the steering wheel.

Stars floated before her eyes and she was disoriented for several

moments. “Get a grip, girl,” she muttered to herself as she checked her face
in the mirror. Although her skin mottled into a bruise, no blood trickled out.
She turned the ignition, but the engine only wheezed.

Slamming the steering wheel with the flats of her hands, she

screamed. “Ugh! Don’t let me down now. Our man needs us.”

As if sympathizing, the car spluttered and coughed, and finally sprang

to life. “Yes! That’s the way. You can do it.” She backed up and resumed
her journey. She flipped open the phone and hit the redial button to Dylan.
“Hang tight. I’m almost there.”

“It’s getting bad. Be careful.”

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She gritted her teeth. “I’m trying.” Blinded by the sheet of water

cascading down, she leaned forward to peer out the windshield. When she
spied the familiar vehicle, she released a pent up breath and looked
Heavenward. “Thank you, thank you Lord!” She couldn’t wait to hug the
stuffing out of him and kiss him senseless.

She pulled up behind him and honked the horn several times. Dylan

bounded out of the crippled truck hauling his army duffel bag and sleeping
roll, and slammed into her car. Although the transfer had taken all of one
minute, water poured off his soaked body and dripped from his nose.

Dylan turned toward her and frowned. “I thought I told you to send a

man. This is no place for a woman.”

“You’re welcome,” she said wryly, all desire to hug him instantly

evaporating.

“Look, I’m grateful,” he said, putting his hand over hers on the

steering wheel. “But you shouldn’t have risked this.”

She checked the road and waited for the only other vehicle to pass

them. Wrinkling her nose at memory of the oh-so-concerned shelter guards,
she said, “All the white knights in shining armor were too busy hiding their
heads between their legs.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Her car spluttered and

coughed again, and began to limp. “Oh oh. What now?”

Dylan jerked up, shoving his sodden hair out of his eyes. “Water

must’ve got into the catalytic converter. It’s stalling.”

No, no, no! This could not be happening. They were still several

blocks from the shelter.

“Pull over.” His gruff voice only added to her mounting anxiety.

He got out and tinkered under the hood. He cupped his hands around

his mouth and yelled over the wind and water, “Try to start her now.”

The engine spluttered and died. She tried again and the engine refused

to crank. “Now what?”

He squared his shoulders and looked around. He pulled his baseball

cap more firmly over his head, the red dye running down his neck. “We hike
the rest of the way. No telling when the police could get here…”

If at all.

His words hung in the air ominously.

She gulped, nodding, and handed his duffel bag out the window to

him. She got a firm grip on his sleeping roll, and crawled out of her nice dry
cab, into the wet torrent.

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There might not be lighting, but the winds were whipping around,

almost knocking her off her feet. A gust of wind got hold of a nearby traffic
light and ripped it from its sling. The light crashed to the ground a few feet
away and sparks shot out. As electrical wires dangled and jumped, her heart
raced so fast it would surely burn out.

Limbs were yanked from tree trunks. And then large trees, roots and

the surrounding ground, were yanked out of the earth. Not one, but two
ancient trees almost fell on them.

Dylan pulled her back and they fell into a large puddle. He helped her

up and put a steadying arm around her, and together, they struggled against
the howling wind.

A billboard was ripped to shreds and a large chunk crashed against a

building down the street.

Windows imploded. Rocks and leaves flew through the air.

A mini tornado spun dizzily and cars moved like magic, no drivers at

their wheels. When one flipped and smashed its neighbor, Sam rushed into
Dylan’s arms and buried her face against his broad chest. “This is
Armageddon.”

“This is only the beginning.”

“We can’t survive out here. What if they won’t let us in? They said

they were near capacity.” She gnawed her lower lip, her thoughts almost as
dark as the clouds swirling overhead.

“We’ll worry about that if and when it happens. Let’s just get there.”

He prodded her forward, instilling her with his strength.

Her cell phone rang, the sound almost drowned out by the elements. It

was her sister. “Where are you? We’ve scoured the building for you, and
then the guards told us some far fetched story about a nutty woman who ran
out of the building against their orders. That wouldn’t be you, would it?”

She swallowed with difficulty. “Guilty.”

“What possessed you to do a fool thing like that? There’s a monsoon

out there.”

“Dylan broke down and called for help. I couldn’t leave him out here

in this.” She glanced up at the man in question.

Nina’s agitated voice was muffled in the background, but Shantel

shushed her. “Hurry back. Are you close?”

“Not too far.” No way would she tell them they were on foot and

worry them more.

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Explosions lit the nearby sky and a fireball mushroomed into the dark

sky and she jumped into Dylan’s arms. “I gotta go. I love you.”

Dylan tugged her behind him until they reached the sturdiest-looking

building in the area and pulled her into a doorway. He put his arms around
her and he held her tightly.

When their gazes locked, and her breath caught in her throat. She

couldn’t stop the coming kiss anymore than she could stop the advancing
hurricane. She tiptoed up to him as he lowered his lips in a kiss full of
hunger and longing. Their tongues dueled, finding nirvana, as his hands
kneaded her waist.

Reason fled, leaving only primitive, primal need. Their kiss was as

wild and abandoned as the wind, as wet as the rain, and as hot as the Earth’s
core. How long they drank of each other, she didn’t know, only that she
never wanted it to stop.

A building collapsed across the street with a horrendous clatter

bringing her back to reality. Hell had surely broken through Earth’s crust to
reign on firmament. Debris sailed through the air. Her cheeks burning, she
pulled away from the craziness.

“The hurricane wasn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow,” she yelled

to be heard over the whistling wind.

“These things are unpredictable. We’re almost there. Just a bit further.

I can see it now.” Dylan practically carried her across the raging river that
had once been known as Sample Road.

“Hallelujah!” Her heart pounding loudly in her ears, she thanked God

for delivering them to safety, for saving her precious Dylan, for giving them
a second chance. Just as soon as they reached the shelter’s safety, she was
going to kiss the dry ground, her sister, her friend, the guards... For now, she
mustered her waning energy reserves and redoubled her effort.

Everything had become a blur. One moment, she was crossing the

road, the next she was stumbling up to the guarded doors of the shelter.

“We were just about to lock up for good. You just made it back,” the

burliest guard dog said gruffly, glowering at her with beady black eyes that
were almost swallowed by his big-jowled face as he held open the heavy
glass doors.

“That was mighty dangerous running out into the storm like that,” his

skinnier counterpart added, nodding profusely, his pug nose red from his
constant sniffling.

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Not up to dueling with anybody, she just nodded. She craved dry

clothes and sleep more than an argument.

Shantel pulled her into a shaky hug. “You should be whooped for

running out into that storm and scaring me to death. You could’ve been
killed.”

We almost did.

Visions of flying cars and roofs plagued her and she

shuddered anew.

“I would’ve gone with you had you asked,” Nina said more gently,

joining in on the hug.

Sam smiled warmly at her friend. “I know, but I didn’t want to

endanger you, too.”

Dylan spoke against her ear, his warm breath sending tingles down

her spine. “I need to speak to you in private. First, we’d better change into
something dry before we catch our death of cold.”

Dylan awaited her outside the ladies room and took her elbow in his

hand, guiding her to an empty table in the back of the cafeteria. “We still
need to talk. This isn’t the place or time I would’ve picked, but I can’t wait.”

The gleam in his eyes sent delicious tingles down her spine, and she

tried to tamp down her wild imaginings. She hoped and prayed she hadn’t
pushed him away one time too many. She hoped she hadn’t finally
convinced them just how incompatible they were.

She smiled and nodded, hoping to give him the courage to speak his

heart, ready and longing to hear what was trapped inside. “Yes,” she said too
breathlessly, her gaze glued on him.

A grin split his face from ear to ear. “I passed my GED.”

Joy flooded her. But it also mingled with a tinge of disappointment.

That wasn’t the subject she’d been hoping to discuss. She threw her arms
around him and kissed him soundly. Against his lips, she murmured, “I’m so
proud of you. I never had a doubt you could do it.”

“I…”

An announcement came over the PA system, and echoed through the

room. “Attention everyone. We’ve just received word that the hurricane is
officially here. The outer borders are attacking from West Broward. It first
made landfall in Naples, but is veering to the northwest and has a radius of
one hundred miles…”

Dylan whistled long and low. “It’s a big sucker all right.”

Nina and Shantel scurried across the cafeteria to their table and clung

to them. “Oh, God. It’s here.”

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Sam put her arm about her friend’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Nina gulped and nodded, her arm falling limp at her side. “We’re in

for a hell of a night. I’m so relieved you made it back in time, but I’m never
going to forgive you for pulling such a stupid stunt.”

Sam gazed into Dylan’s darkened eyes. “I had to do it.” There’s

nothing else she could have done.

The PA continued to crackle, as everyone listened with baited breath.

“At this time, it is a category four storm as rated by the Saffir/Simpson
Hurricane Scale, with winds of 145 miles per hour.”

A collective gasp roared across the room and Sam’s knees felt weak

so she sank against Dylan. This wasn’t a palsy tropical depression by any
means. Her poor little house would be lucky to stand up to this fiendish
storm. The way the wind howled and screeched, she wondered if the
concrete bunker of a school would hold up through the night.

“Should the power go out during the storm, please don’t panic. The

back up generator should kick in quickly. However, to conserve on power,
we will use it sparingly. As of this time, no one is allowed to leave the
shelter. Repeat. As of this time, no one will be allowed to leave the shelter.”

That was okay with Sam who was hunkering down. “I have to see

what’s happening out there.”

Dylan nodded and led her to their camp.

She sat beside Dylan and flipped on the portable television, fascinated

against her wishes by the storm reports. Blame the science teacher in her,
she needed to know all the gory details.

The loudspeaker broke into her reverie yet again, and she looked up.

“If you are camped out in the hallway or near an outside window, we ask at
this time that you move to an interior section of the building away from all
windows. We realize the crowded conditions and apologize for any
inconvenience, but please proceed in an orderly fashion. If you are already
in an interior section of the building, please make room for additional
people.”

Her sister sank to the floor beside her. “They expect it to break the

windows and come inside?”

“Just a precaution, I’m sure,” Dylan scooted closer beside her, his

thigh burning against hers as his gaze riveted on the television.

The local weather man pointed at a very well defined eye of the storm

that reminded her of a garishly fluorescent amoeba. “These are enhanced

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infrared images taken by satellite at 9:03 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time this
evening.”

“We should get some sleep while we can.” Dylan yawned and

stretched out his length beside Sam. “We’ll need our strength for the clean
up when this is all over. That’s when the real work begins. It was hell after
Andrew.”

Ugh! Andrew again.

Nina yawned and clapped her hand over her mouth. She plumped her

pillow and then snuggled into her covers. “Good advice. Get some rest.”

Too wired to take the advice, Sam grunted, and remained sitting in

front of the TV, her gaze glued to it. “In a few minutes. I have to hear this.”

Finally, when Sam began to hear repeats, she turned the TV off and

curled up in her sleeping bag. But the floor was rock hard against her back,
and she couldn’t get comfortable. To help drown out the talking of their
roommates, she slipped her radio headphones over her ears and turned on
her favorite easy listening station to help lull her to sleep.

Sometime later, she stirred and found herself in Dylan’s warm arms,

snuggled up to him. At first she thought it was a dream, but then the room
came into focus and he gathered her more closely against his chest. It felt so
good, and so utterly, undeniably right.

Her movement made him stir, and he squinted an eye open at her.

“Morning, sunshine,” he murmured, his voice heavy with sleepy huskiness.

Her heart hammered against her ribs and then he frowned and shifted

into a sitting position and lifted her ear phones away from her head. “How
were you supposed to hear any announcements with this on?”

“I couldn’t sleep with all the other noise.” She often used music at

home to lull her into a slumberous state. It had worked, hadn’t it?

She listened for the wind. “Did the storm pass already?” Had she slept

through a category four hurricane?

“I don’t think so.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s only two p.m. The

worst isn’t here yet.”

She groaned and fell back onto her pillow, staring at the ceiling. “I

don’t think I can sleep.”

Someone else lifted their head off the mattress and glared at them.

“Shush! My kids are trying to sleep. Go in the gym.”

Dylan climbed to his feet and held out his hand to help her up. “Come

on. I’ll challenge you to a one on one,” he whispered seductively against her
ear.

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Her heart skipped several beats. He’d darn well better mean

basketball…

But people were camped out in the gymnasium, so they were forced to

the cafeteria. She dragged a deck of playing cards from her pocket and
shuffled them. “How about a rip roaring game of rummy?”

His eyes dancing with mirth, he stole the deck from her. “How about

strip poker?”

She wished! If only they could find a spot of privacy. She stole the

deck back, holding it out of his reach. “I was just trying to while away the
time.”

“So was I.” He laughed lustily, making embarrassing heat creep into

her cheeks.

The winds began to bay ferociously again and her gaze flew to the

front doors. She shivered and sucked in a ragged breath. “Oh oh. Looks like
it’s here.”

“We should retreat to the interior.” Sobering, Dylan grasped her

elbow, guiding them back to their room.

Curious about the storm, trying to get a glimpse of it, she dragged her

feet. Golf-sized hail pelted the windows and the cars parked outside. Leaves
and small tree branches whirled angrily in the rainy night.

“Do I have to put you over my shoulder?” Dylan warned, no trace of

mirth in his voice.

“Caveman!” She put her fists on her hips and shot a surly glance over

her shoulder. “Do I have to kick your butt? I’m not afraid to take you on.”

A wicked glint dashed across his eyes. “You want to take me on?

Here? Now?”

He sounded much too eager to do just that. Remembering their tickle

fight, her temperature climbed. Still, she wasn’t about to back down.

“Hey you two! Get away from the window!” the guard called, rising

from their post.

She wrinkled her nose, then took a last curious look outside unable to

see anything beyond the almost sheer wall of rain anyway. “All right. I’m
coming. I’m coming.” To Dylan’s back, she mouthed, “Don’t have a cow.”

Almost everyone in the room was awake and wide eyed now, crowded

before the school’s television set which someone had confiscated from
another room. The local newscaster looked grey and weary, but plodded on
at his post.

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A boom sounded outside as if a transformer was blowing up and the

TV sizzled in a brilliant flash of light, and the electricity went out. Several
people screamed.

Sam sucked in her breath, groping for Dylan. “Where are you?”

A strong pair of arms curled around her waist, and a hard body

pressed into her back. “Right here.”

She took comfort in his strength, although the thunder continued to

boom in rapid succession, almost as if it was Judgment Day. She tried to
laugh off her discomfiture. “I usually enjoy elemental storms.”

“This isn’t your normal bread and butter storm. It’s packing quite a

wallop.”

About 922 mb pressure, a real stinker, all right.

Shantel turned their battery-operated TV on, and motioned them over.

Her dark gaze raked over Dylan’s arms around her, her brow tenting in
question.

She snuggled deeper into Dylan’s arms and returned her sister’s glare

unashamedly. She finally knew and admitted her own mind and heart and
she wasn’t going to let anyone deter her, not even her beloved, if bratty,
sister.

After what seemed an eternity, after many miserable hours of no air

conditioning, dim generator lighting, and awful canned food that Sam never
wanted to see again, they were released from the shelter. She swore silently
when she saw that the paint job on her car was demolished, and coconut
bombs in her seat. The entire interior was soaking wet and ruined. “Oh man.
It’ll be a party trying to drive home with this.”

“I’ll drive,” Dylan said, taking the keys from her. “Pile in everyone.”

Although the high school stood with all its shrubbery and the majority

of its signage in tact, it looked naked. The nearby strip mall where she and
Dylan had sheltered in the doorway had collapsed in on itself, a grand daddy
of a pine tree lying in the middle of it.

Water swirled in the streets, making it dangerous to walk lest there

were downed electrical lines. Many electrical lines hung precariously
overhead while their poles leaned gnarled and splintered toward the ground.
Street signs, garbage can lids, and all manner of vegetation floated in the
water, banging into Sam’s car as they crept toward home. She prayed she
still had a home, that it hadn’t met a similar fate of the destroyed strip mall.

The atmosphere was thick and tense in the car as if every one held

their breath. All the houses still stood, but many were minus all or part of

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their roofs. Shingles littered the ground like Bingo pieces. When they pulled
into Sam’s neighborhood, the street looked naked, with the vegetation
twisted and broken, more strewn about the ground than alive on the trees.
Bushes lay uprooted in the middle of the road. Trees stood splintered,
resembling burned up matchsticks.

She caught a glimpse of her ravaged, dented house, so barren and

desolate, and her heart flipped over in her chest. “Holy…”

Half the roof had been torn off, leaving a gaping hole over the garage.

The plywood had been ripped off the front window which had imploded,
allowing the wind to rip through the interior. When she started to go inside,
Dylan held her back. “Let me check it out first, make sure there’s not an
electrical hazard. Wait out here.”

Eager and simultaneously dreading a look inside, Sam chafed on the

doorstep. Muggy rain misted them as they waited for Dylan to finish his
inspection, and she shuffled her feet in nervous anticipation.

Shantel huddled under the thin overhang, hugging herself and

shivering. “I’m definitely going back to Ohio. You should seriously think
about coming with me. Mama would love to have both of her girls home.”

If it were only the house keeping her here, she’d be gone in a flash.

But she hoped she had more reason to stay… “What happens until I get a
new roof?” God only knew what other repairs would be needed. For all she
knew the back of the house could have blown away with the wind.

Nina picked up her mailbox that had been ripped out of the ground

and thrown against her garage door, leaving ugly scars. She carried it back to
Sam with a sad smile. “It’s not too bad. Maybe you can put it back up.”

Dylan returned just in time to here Ohio and scowled deeply. “You

got lucky. It’s not that bad inside. Mainly clean up since things got blown
around. The porch got ripped off though.”

Sam gasped. “All your hard work....”

Dylan shrugged. “Shit happens. I’ll help you fix it up.”

“Don’t you have to check up on your house?” She hoped it had fared

better, or at least as fared well as hers.

Fidgeting, Dylan looked antsy to go. He whipped his baseball cap off

his head, a red band of perspiration rimming his forehead, testifying to the
horribly muggy day. “Mind if I borrow your car? I need to see if I have
anything left.”

She tossed the keys back to him along with a silent prayer for

safekeeping. “Go for it. Call us when you get there.”

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He nodded and dropped a chaste and disappointing kiss onto her

cheek. “Will do.”

Much later that night, Dylan called with the bad news that his house

had been hit worse than hers, and half his roof was decorating the neighbor’s
yard. He’d had to remain in it as he worked on repairs to discourage looters.
He’d taken to sleeping with his gun under his pillow as had an alarming
number of other South Floridians.

Needless to say, June slipped into July and Sam hadn’t seen him since

he’d brought her car back. He never found time to have their important
conversation and she began to despair he had changed his mind.

She didn’t see the return of electricity till the end of June when her

sister drove up to Ohio and brought back a generator. Nina stayed with her
as her condo had been condemned and there was a shortage of housing in the
area.

Sam changed her mind again. The best invention of the twentieth

century was electric generators. Shantel and Sam strolled around her back
yard in the twilight, taking inventory of her porch. “You’d do best just to sell
the place as is or pay some realtor to handle the sale, and come back to Ohio
with me.”

The truth of Shantel’s words stung Sam. There was nothing left for

her here. If she stayed long enough to effect repairs to the house, she could
be here forever. It seemed Dylan had no intention of picking up where he’d
left off, no matter how long she stayed, so why bother?

She rested her head on her baby sister’s strong shoulder, and smiled

wistfully. “Have you always made this much sense?”

She shook with laughter. “You didn’t think so a couple months ago.”

Ouch!

That sliced.

She turned to Shantel, her heart fully exposed and vulnerable. “I hate

to admit that you might be right, but you might be right.”

Her sister looked into the distance for so long, Sam thought she’d

made a horrible mistake opening old wounds. Was it still so raw? Would she
start tearing up again? Break down? Sam held her breath, wanting to kick
herself.

“Richie and I are getting back together. When he thought Wanda was

going to take me away from him forever, he woke up and realized how much
he loves me.” Shantel held out her hand and modeled her gorgeous wedding
ring that was back in its rightful place. “We’re going to get married again.”

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Overjoyed, Sam swiped at the tears filling her eyes and hugged her

sister. “I love you so much and I’m so happy for you.” She squeezed him
hard, not wanting to let go lest it was a dream. If only her own happily-ever-
after would come so easily. But the storm had served the opposite effect on
her love life.

Turning blue from lack of oxygen, her sister forcibly removed her

fingers. “I love you, too. Now, are you going to come home with me? My
little one will need her auntie close by.”

Sam’s gaze shot to her sister’s flat belly. Her jaw dropped open wide.

“You’re not...?”

Shantel nodded, and a radiant beam broke out across her face. “The

baby’s due Christmas.”

Sam couldn’t wait. It was time to move on with the next phase of her

life. She made a mental list.

Take up her auntie duties.

Sell the house.

Bid farewell to the hurricane state.

Say goodbye to Dylan. For all he seemed to care…

She ambled upstairs to her bedroom, stretched out on her bed and

reread each and every one of Dylan’s letters. After the sun sank behind the
Everglades, she locked them away vowing this was the very last time she
was going to read them.

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Chapter Eleven

On the day Sam was going to sell the house, Dylan slammed out of

his new truck, and strode up to her purposefully, snatching the house keys
from her hand that was about to drop it into the realtor’s. “The lady isn’t
leaving. At least not yet. We’ll call you if she decides to go through with the
sale.”

The audacity of the man!

Sam’s nostrils flared and she jutted up her

chin. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Something I should’ve done months ago.” When a ball nearly hit

them and the neighbor children ran through the newly planted hedge to
retrieve it, he grimaced. “Let’s take this inside where it’s private.”

“I’d prefer you explain yourself out here.” She stared him down,

refusing to drop her gaze first. He had a lot of nerve demanding she didn’t
sell her house. He hadn’t been around for almost two months.

“I prefer not to.” He picked up the ball and threw it to the kids. “The

bushes have ears.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, not feeling exceptionally graceful.

When they reached the living room, he captured her hands in his,

staring deeply into her eyes. “I’ve let this go on unresolved, too long.”

She blinked, unable to exhale.

“I’m in love with you and I don’t care if you’re pink, green, or purple.

And no one, not of any color or race, is going to love you more or better than
me.”

Giddy and scared to death all at once, she sucked in her breath. Was

she dreaming? Was he finally coming back?

About ready to hyperventilate, she tried to pull her fingers from his

grasp, but he tightened his hold on her.

He moved from the couch opposite her and sat beside her, his thigh

brushing hers, setting off a three-alarm blaze. Steamed, she tried to scoot
away. “I owe you an apology.” Her voice came out as barely a whisper.

He scooted along beside her, trapping her against the arm of the

couch. Nuzzling her neck, he did insane things to her libido. In the huskiest

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voice she’d ever heard, he murmured against her ear, “There’s nothing to
apologize for.”

“Yes, there is.” Her gaze slid to the picture of herself and her little

sister when they were children. “It seems my sister, the one who was trying
to poison my mind and turn me against you, has reconciled with her
husband. And they’re pregnant and completely happy. Our mother’s even
given them her blessing.”

He sat still for a long time, but finally asked, “So are they still making

up your mind for you?”

Not trusting herself to think straight with his gaze boring into her so

unmercifully, she pulled back. “I had already made up my own mind. And
then you pulled a disappearing act before we ever finished our conversation.
I thought you’d changed your mind.”

He pulled her to him and nuzzled her neck. His lips teased and

caressed her neck as he moved relentlessly toward her lips.

Flames sizzled through her veins and threatened to break out into

wildfires.

“Never.” He paused for several long seconds, while he stroked her

hair. He cupped her face in his palm and gazed deeply into her eyes. The pad
of his thumb rubbed the plane of her cheek, making her quiver inside. “I
love you with all my heart and soul. I have for a very long time. Is there a
chance that you could ever love me? I know you were eager to find your
special someone. I know you told me I didn’t stand a chance, that we were
too different, but is there a chance I could fit the bill?”

She held the hand against her face and a slow smile curved her lips.

“Oh, you are blind. Why do you think I had to get away? I thought you
forgot me. I missed our long, chatty, heart-felt letters so much. I thought the
real you was gone forever.”

Wander dawned in his eyes. “You love me? Truly?”

“Desperately.” She leaned forward and touched his lips with hers in a

brief, magical kiss. When he would have deepened it, she pulled back,
having to know.

“Would you prefer I leave now and write more letters, my love?”

My love.

Nothing had ever sounded sweeter or made her heart melt

faster.

“Say it again.”

“I’ll never lie to you.”

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Although his assertion was crucial and wonderful, that’s not what she

meant. “The other part.”

“My love.” Pure ambrosia, his assertion caressed her ears. She could

listen to him call her ‘my love’ till the end of eternity and it would never
lose its allure. “Does this mean you won’t move to Ohio after all? That
you’ll accept a spot in a PhD program in South Florida?”

“I think we can safely assume that.” It was her turn to laugh. She

batted her lashes at him. “And you’d better not leave and just write letters
again.”

He quirked his brows. Humor danced in his eyes. “Just write letters?”

She twisted her lips and sighed. “You know what I mean. Those

letters are so precious, so special. Each and every one is engraved on my
heart. I meant that I want us to be that close again, always and forever.”

She wanted to scream her love and happiness from the rooftops but

she had to know one more thing before she placed her heart at his feet.
“Does it bother you that I want to earn my doctorate? Truth now.” She held
her breath.

“As long as it makes you happy, it’ll make me happy.” He traced her

lips lightly with his finger. “Does it bother you that your husband won’t
have some big, fancy degree or a lot of heavy-duty education? Truth now,”
he mimicked.

“My husband?” He wanted to marry her? Squealing in glee, she

hurled herself into his arms. She didn’t even have to pause to answer. She
loved him and everything about him. He was everything she could ever
desire in a lover, life mate, or best friend, and they were all rolled into one.
“I’m the luckiest woman alive. I’ll have two for the price of one – my lover
and my best friend.”

A very primitive, very sexy growl rose from the depths of his soul as

he swooped down upon her lips. They drank deeply of each other as their
hands explored each other wantonly, slipping under shirts, dipping under
waistlines.

“Get a hotel room!” her sister said, grumbling behind them gruffly.

Lordy!!

She hadn’t known Shantel been listening shamelessly. Come

to think of it, she wasn’t exactly shocked. Hadn’t her sister always spied on
her and listened into her most intimate conversations? Read her journal?
Wanted to be part of her life?

Sam tried to pull away from Dylan but he wouldn’t have any of it,

keeping a firm grip on her.

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Whispering in her ear, his breath hot against her trembling sensitive

flesh, he said, “You’re not getting away from me so easily.” Tightening his
grip, he added huskily, “You’re never getting away from me again.”

Shantel laughed and clapped wildly. “Way to go.”

Without warning, Dylan scooped her into his arms and carried her to

her bedroom and kicked open the door like the romantic swashbuckler she’d
always dreamed he’d be. Against her lips, he murmured. “A hotel room
sounds awesome.”

“Too far away.” Sam was desperate for him now. They’d waited far

too long already. “My bedroom’s more than fine.”

With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he laid her on the bed with a

reverence that belied how much he cherished her. Stretching out beside her,
he feathered kisses down her cheek, her neck, the vee of her chest and
dipped his tongue inside the sweltering material.

Sitting up, she held her hands high above her head. Sliding a sensuous

glance at him from beneath her veiled lashes, she asked, “Help me take this
off? If it’s not too much trouble.”

With a growl, he tore it off and flung it across the room. Then he

pushed her pants down to her feet until she was completely naked and
quivering under his appreciative stare. “You’re so very lovely.”

Glowing under his loving caresses, she crooked her finger at him.

“Will you do something special for me?”

He quirked a brow and his heated gaze pierced her. “Anything. Is it

kinky?”

Depends on what he considered kinky. “Not too kinky… Do a

striptease for me? I just love it the way you swing your big tool belt around.”

He gulped, and heat crept up his neck into his cheeks as his eyes

blazed darkly. Passion sparkled in them. “So you like the way I use my big
tool

s?”

Licking her lips in anticipation, she nodded, eager to try this science

experiment more than any other in history. “But I’m sure there’s one I’ll like
far better than any other. How about a little private tutoring?”

He groaned as he rose and started to swivel his hips, stiff at first, then

with more rhythm. “You keep talking that way, and you won’t get your
striptease.”

“If your big tool is hot enough, we’ll skip the striptease for later.” She

lay back on the bed and held out her arms to him, aching for his kisses.

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“This makes you hot, doesn’t it?” Dylan crossed his arms over his

chest and started tugging his t-shirt from his jeans inch by excruciating inch
revealing extremely muscular abs.

“Extremely.” On fire, she stroked herself, counting that her gestures

would stoke his fire as well.

“The hotter the better.” He swung and ground his hips till she was

dizzy with desire as he lowered his skin-tight jeans. When he released his
throbbing, pulsing cock, she almost swooned and longed to taste it, to milk
it.

Greedy, starved, she crawled to the end of the bed and reached for

him, longing to touch its velvety length.

“Not yet. Your striptease isn’t done until every last stitch of clothing’s

off.” He was down to socks only so didn’t that count? Obviously not.

She pouted prettily and climbed off the bed, backing him into the

corner. “Tease.”

Flicking her tongue over his feverish chest, she moaned when his salty

taste increased her appetite. Taking long, sweeping laps of her tongue down
his neck, she nibbled her way to his nipples, across his flat abs, and down to
the belly button, careful not to touch the ultimate object of her desire that
throbbed within kissing distance.

“Whose the tease?”

“Maybe we’re even.”

“You wanted me to strip for you.”

“Uhm hm. Tell me you don’t like this and I’ll stop.”

“I like very much. Don’t stop.”

“I thought so.”

Unable to keep teasing herself or him, she stroked his velvety cock,

running a light fingertip over the top, then down the underside of his shaft.
Its fragrance beckoned her and she couldn’t keep resisting it having dreamed
of this moment for so very long. Lowering her lips to the tip, she feathered
kisses over it, tasting his salty seed.

When he moaned and thrust his hips at her, she took licked its length

then circled its thick base. “So sexy.” Awesome.

He tangled his fingers through her hair and held her head securely.

His message was clear when he touched the head of his cock to her lips.

Who was she to disappoint her man? Opening her lips wide, she took

him into her mouth and closed her eyes against the ecstasy. Cupping him in
one hand she kneaded them while she caressed his manhood with the other.

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“Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he murmured huskily, gyrating his hips

against her, thrusting deeper and deeper into her mouth.

She would if she could but she was otherwise occupied, exuberantly

so.

Alternately sucking, licking, and kissing, she gave it her undivided

attention as she’d longed to do. As wonderful as her dreams had been, this
was so much more thrilling and fulfilling. Only one thing could be better…

Increasing her fervor, she sucked and stroked him, milking his seed,

eager for her first taste of him. She didn’t have long to wait until he
exploded in her mouth, his hips pressed against her.

“I adore you.” His knuckles grazed her cheek as the last shudders of

ecstasy racked his body.

“I love you, too.” Pulling back slowly, she licked his seed from her

lips. Her only regret was that he needed time to regain his strength. But there
would be plenty of time to make sweet, seductive love.

Taking his hands in hers, she pulled him to the bed and snuggled up to

him, fitting perfectly into his arms as she knew she would. “And I thought
chocolate was my favorite flavor…”

With a seductive twinkle in his murky eyes, he slashed a kiss across

her lips. “Minx. I would’ve bet it was pickle juice.”

The imp in her reemerging, she asked, “Get real. So what’s your

favorite flavor?”

“Is that an invitation?”

Coyly, she fluttered her lashes at him as quivers racked her core. “If

you want it to be…” She hoped he did, of course.

His cock flexing, coming back to fascinating life, he licked and

nipped his way down to her breasts, bathing them with his erotic tongue.
“You taste wonderful. You’re my favorite flavor.”

As it should be.

“Open your legs wide for a second opinion.”

She nodded and smiled, opening herself to him again. All good

science experiments should be conducted more than once for quality control.
Extensive testing was called for to be accurate. Very extensive testing…

He ran the pad of his thumb over her clit, massaging it, sending waves

of fantastic sensations through her. Then he flicked he buried his face
between her legs, and slid his tongue deep into her channel, truly tasting her.

Barely able to construct a coherent word, she asked as she clawed at

his broad shoulders, “Verdict?”

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“The best taste in the world.”

“Only the world?” She arched her hips up so he could gain deeper

penetration.

“In all the universe.”

Much better. Much, much better.

But still greedy, she wanted one thing more. One big thing. Tapping

his shoulder, she pulled him up to her. “Stop teasing me and show me just
how well you use that big tool.”

“Anything you say, darlin’,” he drawled with a wicked glint in his

passionate eyes.

She spread her legs wider and welcomed him home.

The End