02_Groom of Her Own (24 page)

A sudden pressure against his chest made Brad sigh, and he shifted slightly, coming partially awake. Subconsciously he was aware of a feeling of warmth, contentment and…for some reason the word
completeness
came to mind. He was just beginning to drift back to deep sleep when a soft, feminine sigh pulled him sharply back to reality.

Brad opened his eyes. The room was dim, illuminated only by a low-wattage lamp on a table near the door, giving the contents a fuzzy, slightly out-of-focus appearance. But one thing was very clear. Sam was wrapped in his arms, her head nestled against his chest, her glorious hair spilling over his arm.

As that realization penetrated his consciousness, Brad suddenly, abruptly, came fully awake. It had been more than six years since he’d awakened in a woman’s arms, and he’d almost forgotten the intense, sweet joy of that experience.

Sam smelled good, he thought, inhaling the spicy fragrance that emanated from her skin, noting at the same time that she looked different in sleep. Younger. More vulnerable. And definitely appealing. Very appealing. His arm rested at her waist, and gently he traced her slender curves with his fingers, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe as a powerful, consuming surge of desire raced through his body. Deliberately he stilled his hand. He had to get himself

under control, he thought, his jaw tightening. Think rationally. He took a deep breath. Then another. That was better. First of all, he reasoned, it was late. Second, Sam needed to leave. Third, despite points one and two, he couldn’t wake her up just yet. Not until he’d calmed down a little. Except that being snuggled up next to her soft curves wasn’t helping in the least Focus on something else, he told himself deliberately. Think about your sermon for tomorrow. Or maybe it was today already. Pretend Sam isn’t even here.

Clearly,
that
was an unrealistic goal. But eventually he would feel under control enough to face her. It just might be a long wait.

Sam was having a wonderful dream. She was wrapped in Brad’s strong arms, her head nestled against his shoulder, the musky scent of his aftershave drifting in the air. She didn’t want to wake up. But someone was calling her name. Persistently. So slowly, reluctantly, she opened her eyes—to find Brad’s only inches from her own.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” he said huskily, his lips curving up into a smile.

Sam frowned. Was she still asleep? Or was this real?

The gentle pressure of Brad’s hand at her waist was real enough, all right, and suddenly the events of the evening came back to her in a rush. “What time is it?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

“I don’t know. You’re leaning on my arm, and it’s asleep,” he replied, his voice tinged with amusement

For the first time, Sam became conscious of her position. Sometime after she’d fallen asleep she’d apparently turned toward Brad and cuddled shamelessly against him. Her face flaming in embarrassment, she quickly extricated herself.

Pushing her hair back from her face, she leaned over to search for her shoes, which she’d kicked off earlier in the evening.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice muffled.

“Why?”

“I should have left when you fell asleep instead of…” She paused, fishing for the right phrase.

“Cuddling?” he supplied matter-of-factly. He didn’t seem at all embarrassed, Sam realized in surprise.

“Yeah,” she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear in a very uncharacteristic but endearing little-girl-like gesture.

“I’m glad you stayed, Sam,” he said with quiet sincerity. “And there’s nothing wrong with cuddling when two people care for each other.” Then he glanced at his watch and gave her a wry grin. “Unfortunately, as a minister, I have to be concerned about propriety. Even if things
were
perfectly innocent, I doubt whether my congregation would appreciate discovering that a woman spent the night here.”

She flushed. “I’m sure they wouldn’t. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, Brad. I was only going to stay a few minutes,” she said apologetically.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “Having you here helped a lot. To be honest, I wish you could stay the rest of the night.”

Sam tore her gaze from his with difficulty and rose, smoothing down her skirt So did she wish that, she thought as he stood beside her. But she left the words unsaid.

“Let me drive you home,” he offered.

“But my car’s here,” she reminded him.

“Oh, yeah.” He frowned. “I could drive you home in your car and then take a taxi back,” he suggested.

She glanced at her watch. It was one in the morning, and he had an early service. “I appreciate the offer, Brad. But I can get home safely by myself. I have a phone in the car. Besides, you need to be awake in the pulpit tomorrow.”

“You have a point,” he admitted. “Still, maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I don’t like the idea of—”

“Brad…I’ll be fine,” she interrupted gently. “I’ll call you when I get home,” she promised.

He capitulated with a sigh. “You win. But be careful.”

“I will.” She reached for her purse, then hesitated, frowning. “Brad…are you sure you’ll be all right here by yourself?” she asked, gazing up at him worriedly.

He smiled sadly. “Yes, the darkest hours have passed. I’ll be okay now.”

They walked to her car in silence, and when she turned at the door to look up at him his eyes tenderly traced the contours of her face. The rain had stopped, but a fine, soft mist hung in the air, giving the world an ethereal quality. As he reached over to run a gentle hand down her cheek, Sam felt almost as if she had stepped into a scene from one of her favorite old romantic movies. And she
definitely
felt that way when Brad reached over and cupped her neck with his hand, then drew her close and lowered his lips to hers.

Sam didn’t protest. She was past protesting. Her body was his ally. So was her heart It was only her mind that fought this attraction. And her mind was not functioning too well at the moment.

Brad’s lips moved over hers, gently, yet sensuously, drawing an ardent, breathless response from her. He pulled her closer, until her body melted against his. Sam’s breath caught in her throat as his touch worked its magic.

By the time they drew apart, both of them were breathless.

Brad stared down at her, his eyes smoldering. He wanted Sam. To pretend otherwise would be foolish. For the first time in his life he truly understood the powerful temptations of the flesh. Brad had never experienced anything like the attraction he felt for Sam. Rachel and he had shared a quiet, deep passion.
Wild
was not a word that described the physical expression of their love. But it very definitely—and accurately—described his reaction when Sam was in his arms. The simmering, consuming need he felt for her was very hard to resist Yet giving in to his desires went against everything he believed. It just wasn’t his style.

Brad drew a long, deep breath and reached over to cup her face in his hands, gently stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones. Sam could feel him trembling. And this time it wasn’t from shock and grief. He wanted her, just as much as she wanted him. But giving in to desires wasn’t his way. She knew that, and she was grateful for his restraint, because in her present state she wasn’t sure she would have had the strength to resist him if he’d pushed for further intimacy.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said softly, his voice unsteady.

She nodded, not trusting her voice, and after one last, lingering kiss, she slipped behind the wheel.

As she pulled away from the parsonage, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Brad was illuminated in the mist by a streetlight, and the glow it cast around him added to the unreal, dreamlike quality of the scene. But it was real enough, Sam knew. Her lips were still tingling from the pressure of his mouth on hers, and her body was quivering with desire.

As she drove home through the mist, Sam thought about the similarity between their parting of moments before and so many of the old, romantic movies she collected. Of course, the movies had happy endings. Real life didn’t, necessarily.

But for the first time, Sam felt a glimmer of hope. There were problems to deal with in their relationship, of course, obstacles to overcome. For a happy ending to become a reality, both she and Brad would have to make peace with her past, as well as her potential inability to have children. Both her age and her medical history were working against her on the latter, and she knew that he loved children and deeply desired a family. Accepting all of these things would require him to be very forgiving and to love her very, very deeply.

Sam knew it was a long shot even for a man like Brad. And she might be jumping to the wrong conclusions, she reminded herself. She knew Brad liked her. What she didn’t know was just how serious he was about their relationship long-term. She suspected that he was the kind of man who would think this relationship out very deliberately and allow plenty of time for things to develop before jumping to any conclusions.
Impulsive
was not a word she associated with Brad. Love might not even have entered his mind yet. She couldn’t be sure of his feelings, only hers. And the simple fact was that she had fallen in love with him.

Sam didn’t know exactly when it had happened. All she knew was that it had. And she also knew that the love she felt for him was deep and irrevocable. But she was in no hurry to deal with those feelings. Time was good. It would give her breathing space to seek a way to resolve the guilt that had been part of her life for seventeen years. And it would give their relationship a chance to grow and deepen, provide her the opportunity to choose the perfect moment and the right words to tell him about her past Not to mention the time to build up her courage.

Sam knew she was taking a chance. In the end, even if Brad came to love her, he might not be able to accept what she told him. It was risky. But for the first time in many years, she was beginning to believe that maybe she
could
have her own happy ending. And for the possibility of a happy ending, she was willing to take the risk.

Chapter Ten

“S
urprise!”

Sam looked at Henry’s stunned face, then at Brad, and smiled. They’d pulled it off, after all. Instead of the sedate seventieth birthday dinner with Brad, Rebecca and Sam that he expected, Henry was the guest of honor at a gala party in the Jersey American Legion Hall. The three-piece combo broke into “Happy Birthday,” and fifty voices gave a rousing rendition of the song.

As the crowd moved forward to surround Henry, the three conspirators stepped back.

“I’d say he was surprised,” Brad commented with a grin.

Rebecca laughed. “That’s putting it mildly. This was a great idea, Sam. Left to our own devices, I’m afraid Brad and I would have come up with something much less imaginative. And definitely more boring.”

“I doubt that,” Sam demurred. “But surprises are a lot of fun. So I figured your dad might get a kick out of it.”

Brad glanced at his father, flushed and laughing in the midst of the high-spirited crowd, and smiled. “I’d say your instincts were right on target.”

The band struck up a fox-trot, and Sam turned to Rebecca. “Maybe you and your dad should have the first dance,” she suggested.

Rebecca shook her head doubtfully. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to coax him onto the dance floor. He never was much of a dancer, even when Mom was alive. She always had to drag him out there. But maybe…” She directed a speculative look at Sam. “Why don’t you try? He might dance if you asked him.”

Sam hesitated. “Do you really think so?”

“Rebecca’s right,” Brad concurred. “You’re the most likely person to get him out there.”

Sam shrugged and smiled. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot”

Three hours later, Rebecca gazed at Brad across the table and shook her head incredulously. “Do you believe this? Dad—line dancing! And did you see him in that conga line a little while ago?”

Brad chuckled. “Yep. Leave it to Sam. I told you, she’s one amazing woman.”

Rebecca smiled. “Speaking of which…anything new to report? It’s been almost three months since we talked on Memorial Day.”

The band shifted gears, and the melodic strains of “The Very Thought of You” drifted over the room. Brad looked toward the dance floor and rose. “I think it’s about time I reclaimed my date,” he said, glancing back at Rebecca, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You’re not going to get off that easily, you know,” she informed him pertly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Brad grinned. “We’ll see.”

“Count on it,” she called after him.

As Brad approached Sam and his father, his grin softened into a tender smile. She looked fabulous tonight, in an elegant black dress that enhanced her slender curves, the skirt slit to reveal an enticing glimpse of leg. He’d been wanting to dance with her all night, longing to feel her melt into his arms as she had at Laura’s wedding, while they moved in time to a romantic melody. But Henry monopolized her after the first dance, and Brad was reluctant to interrupt. After all, it
was
his father’s party. But enough was enough. He deserved at least one dance with his date.

Brad tapped on his father’s shoulder and smiled. “Sorry to interrupt, Dad, but I think this dance is mine.”

Henry stepped back. “‘Bout time you danced with the prettiest lady here,” he declared, giving Sam a wink.

The smoky look Brad sent her way made Sam’s nerve endings sizzle. “I agree,” he said, the husky timbre of his voice playing havoc with her pulse.

She moved into his arms, and he pulled her close as they swayed in time to the melodic refrain. With a contented sigh, she closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle but firm pressure of Brad’s hand in the small of her back, his cheek against her hair, his fingers entwined with hers. It felt so right to be in his arms. So good. And so natural.

Sam thought back over the past two months, since the day she’d found Brad in the church, despondent over the young boy’s suicide. That time of tragedy had been a turning point in their relationship, she realized in retrospect. Until then, Sam had fought her attraction to him, refusing to believe it could ever work between them. But that night, as she consoled Brad, a tender hope had been born. It was a fragile thing, requiring careful nurturing, but little by little it grew stronger as their relationship deepened and developed.