She’d decided to make one of
Beau’s favorite pasta dishes, something she’d invented by accident a few weeks
ago, with chicken and vegetables in a creamy sauce. Picking up the fresh
veggies was her final errand. But her phone rang just as she was starting the
truck.
“Darlin’, I’m sorry I have to
take a rain check on dinner tonight.” His voice sounded a little edgy.
“Oh—what’s up?”
“Just work stuff. But I can’t
break away anytime soon.”
A surge of disappointment.
“Sam? I love you.” This time his
voice definitely had a strained quality. But when she started to reply, he’d
already hung up.
Damn. The nice dinner would have
been her perfect opportunity to warn him that Felicia Black was back in town.
She’d envisioned Beau across the dinner table, the pasta dish, a nice wine,
having a few laughs over the silliness of this piece of fluff thinking she
would just move right in and win him back. She drummed her fingers on the
steering wheel then put the truck in gear. Not much she could do about it now.
Traffic around the plaza was
sparse and Sam waited at the light.
What if Beau already knew Felicia
was in town? What if she’d found him and . . . No. The idea that he’d canceled
their dinner because of his ex-girlfriend . . .
She caught herself thinking about
swinging around the corner to be sure his cruiser was at the office. When the
light changed she turned left.
Sam . . . what are you doing ?
This is so high school. You love the man. You trust him completely. He has
never lied about anything—the guy is the epitome of honesty and integrity.
She turned in at the first alley
and used it to circle the block and head for home. Even though she knew she
could trust Beau, she was absolutely certain that she could not trust
Felicia.
Chapter
12
Thoughts raced in turmoil as Sam
drove home and walked into the dark house. Kelly was either reading stories at
the nursing home or was out with Ryan again. Remembering the romantic effects
of those chocolates wasn’t helping Sam’s peace of mind any. Felicia had bought
the largest heart-shaped box in the store today and plainly stated her
intentions to get Beau back. If he ate them, the tiger-lady’s plan just might
work.
Tossing her backpack on the table
and hanging up her coat, Sam debated. Taking any action at all would make Beau
think she didn’t trust him. But not taking action could be disastrous. She felt
as if a low voltage current was racing through her veins as she changed out of
her work clothes. The wooden box stared at her from the dresser top, but this
was one time when Sam couldn’t think of a single way in which the box could
help her.
She stared around her bedroom, at
the unfilled packing cartons and at the closet where she’d begun going through
her clothes and getting rid of things she no longer needed, donating them to
the thrift shop and generally clearing the clutter of the old life in order to
start the new. They’d planned on spending the weekend moving her things to his
house. Not everything, as Sam would leave the furniture and a lot of the
kitchen gear for Kelly. Beau had said nothing of changing that plan, and Sam
would not let negatives sneak into her thinking. She gave the carved jewelry
box a stroke for luck and turned toward the kitchen.
Her cell phone lay on the table,
in the little pile of things she’d pulled from her pockets. She picked it up
and composed a text message before she could talk herself out of it: Don’t eat
any chocolate. Will explain later. She hit the Send button and dropped
the phone to the table. For better or worse, she’d interfered with fate.
*
A rough night caused by
man-worries had not happened in Sam’s life in many years and she wanted to
refuse to believe that was the reason she woke approximately every hour on the
hour and why, now at three-thirty, she felt resigned to being awake.
Moving day. She should be
sleeping at Beau’s tonight and every night till death
Beau’s favorite pasta dishes, something she’d invented by accident a few weeks
ago, with chicken and vegetables in a creamy sauce. Picking up the fresh
veggies was her final errand. But her phone rang just as she was starting the
truck.
“Darlin’, I’m sorry I have to
take a rain check on dinner tonight.” His voice sounded a little edgy.
“Oh—what’s up?”
“Just work stuff. But I can’t
break away anytime soon.”
A surge of disappointment.
“Sam? I love you.” This time his
voice definitely had a strained quality. But when she started to reply, he’d
already hung up.
Damn. The nice dinner would have
been her perfect opportunity to warn him that Felicia Black was back in town.
She’d envisioned Beau across the dinner table, the pasta dish, a nice wine,
having a few laughs over the silliness of this piece of fluff thinking she
would just move right in and win him back. She drummed her fingers on the
steering wheel then put the truck in gear. Not much she could do about it now.
Traffic around the plaza was
sparse and Sam waited at the light.
What if Beau already knew Felicia
was in town? What if she’d found him and . . . No. The idea that he’d canceled
their dinner because of his ex-girlfriend . . .
She caught herself thinking about
swinging around the corner to be sure his cruiser was at the office. When the
light changed she turned left.
Sam . . . what are you doing ?
This is so high school. You love the man. You trust him completely. He has
never lied about anything—the guy is the epitome of honesty and integrity.
She turned in at the first alley
and used it to circle the block and head for home. Even though she knew she
could trust Beau, she was absolutely certain that she could not trust
Felicia.
Chapter
12
Thoughts raced in turmoil as Sam
drove home and walked into the dark house. Kelly was either reading stories at
the nursing home or was out with Ryan again. Remembering the romantic effects
of those chocolates wasn’t helping Sam’s peace of mind any. Felicia had bought
the largest heart-shaped box in the store today and plainly stated her
intentions to get Beau back. If he ate them, the tiger-lady’s plan just might
work.
Tossing her backpack on the table
and hanging up her coat, Sam debated. Taking any action at all would make Beau
think she didn’t trust him. But not taking action could be disastrous. She felt
as if a low voltage current was racing through her veins as she changed out of
her work clothes. The wooden box stared at her from the dresser top, but this
was one time when Sam couldn’t think of a single way in which the box could
help her.
She stared around her bedroom, at
the unfilled packing cartons and at the closet where she’d begun going through
her clothes and getting rid of things she no longer needed, donating them to
the thrift shop and generally clearing the clutter of the old life in order to
start the new. They’d planned on spending the weekend moving her things to his
house. Not everything, as Sam would leave the furniture and a lot of the
kitchen gear for Kelly. Beau had said nothing of changing that plan, and Sam
would not let negatives sneak into her thinking. She gave the carved jewelry
box a stroke for luck and turned toward the kitchen.
Her cell phone lay on the table,
in the little pile of things she’d pulled from her pockets. She picked it up
and composed a text message before she could talk herself out of it: Don’t eat
any chocolate. Will explain later. She hit the Send button and dropped
the phone to the table. For better or worse, she’d interfered with fate.
*
A rough night caused by
man-worries had not happened in Sam’s life in many years and she wanted to
refuse to believe that was the reason she woke approximately every hour on the
hour and why, now at three-thirty, she felt resigned to being awake.
Moving day. She should be
sleeping at Beau’s tonight and every night till death
Similar Books
