02_Groom of Her Own (15 page)

Chapter Six

“H
ey, you two, are you okay?”

Sam was so mesmerized by the compelling intensity of Brad’s eyes that it took a moment for Laura’s concerned voice to register. But when it did, she also became aware once again of her suggestive sprawl on top of the hard planes of Brad’s body. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment, and she rolled sideways, frantically trying to untangle her leg from the burlap sack. When it was finally free, she scrambled to her feet, studiously avoiding Brad’s eyes as he stood up beside her and brushed himself off.

“I’m fine,” she said breathlessly. “Just a little shaken up.”

“Brad?” Laura turned to him, and Sam ventured a glance in his direction. He flexed his shoulder gingerly, and she saw a flicker of pain cross his face, but his words didn’t reflect that momentary flash of discomfort.

“A few minor bruises, I think. Nothing serious,” he replied with an easy smile. He didn’t seem at all embarrassed by their position of moments before, Sam noted in surprise.

Relief washed across Laura’s features. “Thank goodness! Listen, you guys have been good sports, but why don’t you find a cool spot and just be spectators for a while? I think you’ve had enough games for today.”

Brad’s clear, direct eyes locked on Sam’s and refused to let go. “Yeah. I’d say our games are over,” he replied quietly.

Sam swallowed convulsively. The man obviously wasn’t talking about three-legged races.

Laura looked from one to the other, a smug expression on her face, and decided that three was a crowd. “Well, I’ll talk to you two later,” she said, tossing the words over her shoulder as she turned to make a hasty exit.

When she faced forward again she ran squarely into Nick, who steadied her with two firm hands on her shoulders.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re up to some matchmaking tricks?” he admonished her with mock sternness. Then his mouth quirked up into a smile and he leaned down, his lips close to her ear. “Your ploy was a little obvious,” he said in an undertone.

She grinned impishly and shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”

He laughed and draped an arm around her shoulders. “It sure looks that way,” he agreed, glancing back at Sam and Brad, who were still staring at each other, transfixed. Then he shook his head. “I would never have believed it. Maybe I should go over and rescue Brad before it’s too late,” he said, making a halfhearted attempt to turn back.

Laura grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare!” she said, tugging him in the opposite direction. “Besides, it’s too late, anyway,” she added with a smug smile.

Sam was thinking the same thing as she stared at Brad, the flame in his eyes speaking more eloquently than words of his desires. She tried to disguise her own feelings, but she knew she was failing miserably. The attraction was almost palpable, and neither could deny it.

“Sam?” Brad’s voice was gentle, his gaze sharp and probing.

She licked her lips, which had suddenly gone dry, and his eyes released hers as they dropped to her mouth. Which did nothing at all to slow her metabolism. She wasn’t ready to deal with this yet, she thought in desperation. At least not this level of intensity. She had to calm down, think rationally. And she sure wasn’t going to be able to do that with Brad standing just inches away.

“I…I think I’ll find the ladies’ room,” she stammered breathlessly. “Will you excuse me for a couple of minutes?”

Before he could respond, she fled toward the house, grabbing her purse en route.

Brad watched her flight, realizing that was exactly what it was. For all her sophistication and experience with men, she was thrown by his overtures. Thrown, but not unreceptive, he reminded himself, recalling how his own desire had been mirrored in her eyes. But for some reason she was running scared.

He frowned as she disappeared into the house. Had he come on too strong, he wondered, revealing his feelings too soon and too intensely? But he was an honest man, and game playing wasn’t his sport. He figured it was better to lay his cards on the table, be up-front. But Sam might be used to men who did play games. If so, his direct, open approach could have thrown her.

She was probably surprised, too. After all, he himself had only recently come to grips with the fact that despite their differences, a relationship was worth exploring. Maybe she hadn’t come to that realization yet. The attraction was there, certainly; the air between them had practically sizzled in the moments following their fall. But rationally she might still be hung up on their differences.

His congregation certainly seemed to be, he mused, glancing around at the group. He’d sensed their reserve, and he was sure Sam had as well. She wasn’t a stereotypical minister’s date, that was clear. And maybe, given their obvious differences, he was wrong to think they could build a relationship. Maybe his life-style as a minister wouldn’t suit Sam in the long run. Then again, maybe it would. And despite the vibes he was picking up from his congregation, his heart told him that he should pursue this attraction, see where it led. Sam didn’t seem as certain as he was about that, but he felt confident that once they talked things through, he could convince her to give it a try.

Yes, a nice long talk was exactly what they needed, he thought, speculatively eyeing the door where Sam had disappeared. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against a convenient tree, determined to wait her out. He wasn’t sure he agreed with Rebecca about being in love. But now that she’d voiced that observation, he was giving it a lot of thought. Maybe he wasn’t in love yet. But he knew with certainty that there was a good possibility he could be.

Once Sam reached the privacy of the bathroom, she closed the door and sagged against it. Things were moving
way
too fast. She’d suspected that Brad might consider this a real date. What she hadn’t suspected was the depth of his attraction. Okay, so maybe she’d had
a few
clues, she admitted. Like the night he took her home after dinner with his father, when she’d thought he wanted to kiss her. She’d attributed the look in his eyes then to gratitude. Talk about a wrong call! Considering all the men she’d dated she should be an expert at picking up signals. So why had she been so far off the mark with Brad?

The answer was obvious, of course—she cared too much, and she didn’t
want
to pick up his signals. Because she’d known all along that if his feelings ever deepened beyond friendship, she’d have to end their relationship. To do otherwise would be misleading and grossly unfair to him.

Well, she couldn’t ignore the signals anymore, she admitted resignedly. Brad had made it clear that he wanted more than friendship. And unfortunately that was all she could offer, even if her heart was willing to give more. Much more.

Sam drew a deep, shaky breath and leaned over to inspect her face in the mirror. She
looked
pretty much the same. A little pale, maybe, although her makeup disguised most of that But she sure didn’t
feel
the same. Earlier she had been filled with a tingling sense of anticipation and happiness as she looked forward to a day in Brad’s company. Now she was overwhelmed by sadness and a feeling of hopelessness as she realized that it was the last such day they would have together.

Her eyes filled with tears, but she brushed them away angrily. She had no one but herself to blame for this mess. If she’d had the courage to deal with her own deepening feelings sooner, she wouldn’t be in this position now. She’d already waited too long, and it would only get worse if she let more time pass.

Sam smoothed back her hair and straightened her shoulders. She’d survived without Brad before, she told herself resolutely. She could again. The difference, of course, was that before she could only
imagine
what she was missing. Now she
knew.
Because she’d had a tantalizing taste of what it was like to be cared for by a decent, sensitive, sincere—and passionate—man.

The passionate part was what really threw her. Up until a few minutes ago, Sam had thought of Brad as a very disciplined, in-control person. But the glimpse of fire she’d just seen in his eyes told her there was a whole other, exciting facet to this man. And it was a facet she yearned to explore. In fact, the very thought of doing so sent shafts of desire ricocheting through her. But that was not in the cards. Brad was a fine man who deserved a woman equally fine and, unfortunately, she didn’t qualify.

As if to reinforce her self-assessment, the voices of two passing women suddenly penetrated the door.

“…so surprised when they walked in.”

“She’s nothing like Rachel, is she?”

The other woman gave a humorless laugh. “That’s putting it mildly! Whatever do you think he saw…”

The voices faded away.

Sam gritted her teeth and took a deep breath, ruthlessly blinking back her tears. She had to pull herself together, make it through this day. And later, when they got back to her condo, she’d find a way to tell Brad that she couldn’t see him anymore. She didn’t have a clue yet just how she was going to do that, or what she was going to say, but maybe something would come to her. In the meantime, the easiest way to survive the day was to make sure that she and Brad were never alone.

Much to Brad’s consternation, Sam executed her plan quite successfully. He finally admitted defeat, watching her from a distance as she laughed and chatted with members of his congregation, seemingly lighthearted and happy. But he knew her well enough to realize that the real Sam was hiding behind a facade. Her eyes were a little too bright, her smile a little too forced. And she was avoiding him like the plague.

Clearly, he wasn’t going to have an opportunity to talk with her at the picnic, he realized, watching her disappear into the barn several hundred feet away with Laura and a few other women to retrieve the food. But he consoled himself with the knowledge that he’d have her all to himself on the drive home. And they
were
going to talk then.

Brad’s musings were interrupted by several members of his congregation, who wanted to discuss plans for an upcoming meeting, and he didn’t turn back to the barn until a startled voice drew everyone’s attention.

“Watch out everybody! A bee’s nest just fell by the door!”

A murmur of alarm ran through the crowd, which moved as one away from the barn, and Brad’s eyes swept the throng, searching for Sam. Near the food table he spotted Laura and the other women who’d been with her, but there was no sign of Sam. And she was easy to find in a crowd, with her striking red hair. Was she still inside? And if so, had she heard the warning? he wondered in alarm. A sudden surge of adrenaline propelled him toward the door, just as she stepped out balancing a tray holding two cakes.

“Sam! Get back inside!” he yelled desperately, increasing his speed to a flat-out run.

She gave him a puzzled look and stopped. “What?” she called.

“Get back—” It was too late. She was directly on top of the swarm, and her puzzled tone suddenly changed to a startled cry of pain as the first few bees simultaneously pierced her tender flesh. She dropped the tray and glanced down, trying to wave the bees away. The sweet frosting on the ground diverted the attention of most of the swarm. But a few bees preferred Sam to the cake. She panicked and began to run, attempting to elude them.

Brad reached her in seconds, just as she began to stumble. He steadied her with one hand, waving away the remaining bees with the other. He felt a sharp sting or two on his hand, but was almost oblivious to the discomfort, aware only of Sam’s gasps of fear and pain as she writhed in his grasp.

By the time the last bee was banished, Sam’s complexion was as white as the coconut frosting on the cakes she had carried, and she was shaking badly. There was a sting just above her lip, another over her left eye, and both were already swelling ominously.

Linda Perkins, the owner of the farm, came up behind Brad, her face a mask of concern. “Let’s get her inside,” she said, worriedly. “Sandy’s here and she can help.”

Brad turned toward the physician, sending a “thank you” heavenward that her hectic schedule had allowed her to attend today’s picnic.

“I sent John for my bag in the car,” she said crisply as she stepped forward, her eyes on Sam’s face. “Sam, are you allergic to bee stings?” she asked.

Sam shook her head jerkily.

Sandy gave the other woman a quick but thorough look. “Brad, do you think you could carry her inside? She’s got a lot of stings on her ankle, and she seems too shaky to walk.”

Brad’s jaw tightened, his own face almost as colorless as Sam’s. “Yeah.” He put one arm around her shoulders, the other under her knees, and lifted her in one smooth motion, cradling her in his arms. His gut wrenched as she clung to him and whimpered softly, her arms around his neck, her face buried in his chest. He could feel the tremors that ran through her body, and he lengthened his stride, desperate to relieve her misery as soon as possible.

Linda led them to the guest room, and Brad gently deposited Sam on the bed. Her pain-filled eyes stared up at him helplessly, and his gut clenched as he tenderly brushed some stray strands of hair off her face.

“Brad, she may need to undress so I can assess the damage,” Sandy said. “You’d better wait outside.”

He didn’t want to leave her. Not when she looked so hurt and vulnerable. But she was in good hands. He couldn’t add anything except moral support, and Laura, who had slipped in behind him, could provide that. He nodded curtly. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Brad reluctantly left the room, gently closing the door behind him, then began to pace. He didn’t even notice when Nick joined him until the other man laid a hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch,

Nick frowned. “Are you okay?”

Brad glanced at Nick and shook his head dismissively. “I guess I bruised my shoulder when I fell. It’s nothing. I’m more worried about Sam.”

Just then the door opened, and as Laura slipped out both men turned to her questioningly.