perfect.
Absolutely beautiful.
And if he wasn’t mistaken,
definitely over-served and sound asleep.
“Maddie,” he said.
Nothing.
“Come on, honey. Wake up.” He
flexed his shoulder. She sighed and snuggled closer.
Oh, shit. Sam flicked his eyes
around the dingy bowling alley. At least five small groups gathered around
tables, mostly talking, some watching the lanes. Nobody seemed to be paying
them much attention. He needed to get her out of the building before somebody
noticed that sweet Maddie Sinclair, the woman people trusted to take care of
their children, was drunk.
He shoved back the table another
three inches. Then, gently, he pressed on her shoulder, guiding her body until
it lay on the seat of the booth. She didn’t make a sound. He slipped out of the
booth and headed toward Carol. Hoping that Maddie wouldn’t wake up and roll off
the bench, he kept one eye on the lanes and one eye on Maddie’s table. He
waited until Carol threw her ball and when she turned, he crooked his finger at
her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Dr. G. How goes it?” Carol
asked, as she approached. “Did you see me pick up that spare?”
He nodded. “It was a thing of beauty.
Look, can you make sure Mrs. Sinclair gets back to Maddie’s house tonight?”
Carol frowned and looked around
the bowling alley. “Where’s Maddie?”
He discreetly motioned to the
table. “Look close and you can see her feet.”
“What happened?” Carol asked,
clearly alarmed.
“She’s fine,” Sam assured her. “A
bit over the legal limit, I think. I came with Tom Holt so I’m going to need to
take her car to drive her home. Just make sure her mother gets there. And, if
you don’t mind, tell Tom Holt that I left. Don’t give him any details.”
Carol squinted her eyes at him.
“I’ve known Tom since grade school. You think you needed to tell me that?”
Sam laughed. “Probably not. Thank
you.”
He got back to the booth, slid in
next to Maddie, and tapped her on the shoulder. “Sweetie, you and I are taking
a trip. Wake up.”
She opened one eye. “No,” she
said, and closed the eye again.
He reached for her purse, opened
it, and pulled out her car keys. He gently pushed her into an upright position.
She didn’t resist but she was frowning. “Sam? Why are you doing this to me?
Leave me alone. Look,” she pointed across the room to where two grungy boys
with guitars slung around their shoulders were making a big production out of
checking electrical cords and microphones. “The band is about to play. Maybe
I’ll dance.”
Her bending and twisting in that
skirt? The men in the place would quickly lose interest in their bowling games
and it wouldn’t matter if the Blackhawks were playing for the Stanley Cup. “You
can’t dance, you just had surgery,” he said. “Let’s go. Carol’s taking your
mother home.”
She slumped back against the
cracked vinyl of the booth. “What am I going to do with my mother?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
“But we don’t need to solve it tonight. Come on.” Gently, he pulled her out of
the booth and into a standing position.
When she wobbled, he had no
choice but to wrap an arm around her waist. He led her out of the loud bowling
alley into the absolute stillness of the spring night. The air was chilly and
he pulled her tighter against his body, realizing for the first time how petite
she really was. Her tousled blond hair barely came up to his chin and he felt
like a big strong wind could whip her slender frame right out of his
arms.
He opened the door and she sank
down on the leather seat. Her skirt inched up and she didn’t even seem to
notice. He wanted to yank it down, to take away the temptation, but he knew if
he touched her, he was officially toast.
Instead he reached across her,
grabbed the seat belt, and buckled her in. Then he shut the door and took a
good long time walking around the front of the car, hoping that the cool air
would clear his overheated
Absolutely beautiful.
And if he wasn’t mistaken,
definitely over-served and sound asleep.
“Maddie,” he said.
Nothing.
“Come on, honey. Wake up.” He
flexed his shoulder. She sighed and snuggled closer.
Oh, shit. Sam flicked his eyes
around the dingy bowling alley. At least five small groups gathered around
tables, mostly talking, some watching the lanes. Nobody seemed to be paying
them much attention. He needed to get her out of the building before somebody
noticed that sweet Maddie Sinclair, the woman people trusted to take care of
their children, was drunk.
He shoved back the table another
three inches. Then, gently, he pressed on her shoulder, guiding her body until
it lay on the seat of the booth. She didn’t make a sound. He slipped out of the
booth and headed toward Carol. Hoping that Maddie wouldn’t wake up and roll off
the bench, he kept one eye on the lanes and one eye on Maddie’s table. He
waited until Carol threw her ball and when she turned, he crooked his finger at
her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Dr. G. How goes it?” Carol
asked, as she approached. “Did you see me pick up that spare?”
He nodded. “It was a thing of beauty.
Look, can you make sure Mrs. Sinclair gets back to Maddie’s house tonight?”
Carol frowned and looked around
the bowling alley. “Where’s Maddie?”
He discreetly motioned to the
table. “Look close and you can see her feet.”
“What happened?” Carol asked,
clearly alarmed.
“She’s fine,” Sam assured her. “A
bit over the legal limit, I think. I came with Tom Holt so I’m going to need to
take her car to drive her home. Just make sure her mother gets there. And, if
you don’t mind, tell Tom Holt that I left. Don’t give him any details.”
Carol squinted her eyes at him.
“I’ve known Tom since grade school. You think you needed to tell me that?”
Sam laughed. “Probably not. Thank
you.”
He got back to the booth, slid in
next to Maddie, and tapped her on the shoulder. “Sweetie, you and I are taking
a trip. Wake up.”
She opened one eye. “No,” she
said, and closed the eye again.
He reached for her purse, opened
it, and pulled out her car keys. He gently pushed her into an upright position.
She didn’t resist but she was frowning. “Sam? Why are you doing this to me?
Leave me alone. Look,” she pointed across the room to where two grungy boys
with guitars slung around their shoulders were making a big production out of
checking electrical cords and microphones. “The band is about to play. Maybe
I’ll dance.”
Her bending and twisting in that
skirt? The men in the place would quickly lose interest in their bowling games
and it wouldn’t matter if the Blackhawks were playing for the Stanley Cup. “You
can’t dance, you just had surgery,” he said. “Let’s go. Carol’s taking your
mother home.”
She slumped back against the
cracked vinyl of the booth. “What am I going to do with my mother?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
“But we don’t need to solve it tonight. Come on.” Gently, he pulled her out of
the booth and into a standing position.
When she wobbled, he had no
choice but to wrap an arm around her waist. He led her out of the loud bowling
alley into the absolute stillness of the spring night. The air was chilly and
he pulled her tighter against his body, realizing for the first time how petite
she really was. Her tousled blond hair barely came up to his chin and he felt
like a big strong wind could whip her slender frame right out of his
arms.
He opened the door and she sank
down on the leather seat. Her skirt inched up and she didn’t even seem to
notice. He wanted to yank it down, to take away the temptation, but he knew if
he touched her, he was officially toast.
Instead he reached across her,
grabbed the seat belt, and buckled her in. Then he shut the door and took a
good long time walking around the front of the car, hoping that the cool air
would clear his overheated
Similar Books
