Seducing Sam (7 page)

Well, to be fair, it wasn’t
actually on display.  She was the one ogling it.

Mentally giving herself a slap,
she took a step back and looked up at him, only to find him gazing over her
head to where Ed sat on the footpath opposite.

“That’s Ed?”

“Yeah.”  Fidgeting, she cleared
her throat again.  “Sam, I am so sorry.  It’s just that I can’t get him up on
my own and-”

“No worries.”  Reaching behind the
door with one hand, he withdrew the keys and let it swing shut, locking it
behind him.  “Glad to help.”

She rather doubted that, but was
relieved.  “Thank you.”

Stepping back several paces to
give him room to manoeuvre around her - his tall, muscular frame combined with
her own smaller, but much rounder body, didn’t allow for too much room - she
was surprised when Sam caught her upper arm.

“Careful,” he said.  “I don’t want
you tipping backwards over the edge of the veranda.”

Feeling a fool, but oh, so
conscious of the warmth and strength of his grip, Carly sought to focus her
thoughts.  “Sorry.  I’m fine.”

Looking down at her, Sam frowned a
little.  “Are you all right, honey?  You look a little shaky.”

She wondered why.  Was it his
warm, male scent, that faint undertone of soap he always seemed to have, or the
combined delicious realisation that he was not only built like a woman’s
fantasy, but that his concern for her seemed genuine?

Or maybe the last bit was her
imagination.  He probably just didn’t want her fat arse squashing his flowers if
she fell arse over tit off his veranda.

The last thought was enough to
have her straightening her back.  “I’m fine.  Just sorry that I had to disturb
you.”

“Like I said, no worries.” 
Walking past her, he placed his hand in the small of her back, turning her
efficiently to lead her down the steps.  “That’s what good neighbours do.”  He
pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

She felt his touch right through
to her bones.  And to other bits which she refused to acknowledge.

Give the man credit, he didn’t ask
anything as they crossed the street.  He only removed his hand from her back
when they drew up beside Ed.

Squatting down, Sam said, “Hi,
Ed.”

“Sam,” Ed slurred.  “What’re you
doing here?”

“Come to help you inside.”

Ed looked at Carly. “We can manage.”

“I’m sure you can,” Sam said
smoothly before she could reply.  “But Carly is only a little thing, and I’m a
bit stronger, so how about I help instead?”

Little thing?
  She
blinked.  Talk about feeding bullshit to a drunk man.

Ed studied Carly through bleery
eyes.  “She is short.”

She rolled her eyes.

“But I can do this alone.”  To
prove his point, Ed tried to push upright, managing this time to come at least
halfway up before his legs gave out.

“Good try.”  Sam’s smile was friendly,
but there was an air of authority now, an efficiency in his movements as he leaned
forward.  “And you’ll make it this time with my help.”  Before Ed could argue,
he continued, “Count of three and we’re going up.”

Slipping her hands under Ed’s arm
on the other side, Carly braced herself.

“Let go, Carly,” Sam said
quietly.  “I can do this.”

“But-”

“I don’t want you to hurt
yourself.”

About to object, she caught Sam’s
gaze on her, and his eyes, while pleasant, were deadly serious.

“What about you?” she objected.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“I can help-”

“Carly.”

One word in a deep, quiet, even
tone, was enough to make her snatch her hands away.  Not to mention the little
blush that rose in her cheeks, which, thank goodness, he wouldn’t be able to
see with the shadows cast by the street light.

Within seconds Ed was up on his
feet, one arm slung around Sam’s neck, and that was a stretch for Ed.  Sam hung
onto his wrist, his other arm around Ed’s back, bracing the smaller, much
slighter man against his body while starting for the garden gate.  “Open the
door, Carly.”

Hurrying ahead of him, she did as
bidden, watching as he walked Ed up the steps and past her into the hallway.

“Where’s his bedroom?”

“Third door on the left.”

Sam manoeuvred Ed into his bedroom
and surprised her by not dropping Ed onto the bed, instead, he carefully eased
him down until Ed sat.  As soon as Sam released him, Ed fell backwards on the
bed.

Grabbing his legs, Sam flipped
them up onto the bed as well, somehow getting Ed in a proper position so that
his head was on the pillow before pulling his boots off with quick movements.  
Grabbing the folded blanket at the end of the bed, he snapped it over him.

Standing in the doorway, Carly
could only watch in amazement.  Where was absent-minded Sam, the man she and Ed
thought was more of a laugh, a muscle-bound, nice but bit of a moron?  Fixing
her hand was one thing, but now she was seeing a different side of him.  A
quiet, authoritive side.

It had her tingling in places that
had no right to tingle.

“You’re a good man, Sam,” Ed
slurred.  “Kind of man Carly should have.”

She froze.  Holy cow, had her
befuddled young uncle actually said that?  “Ed!”

Ed turned his head on the pillow
to look at her.  “Good man, this Sam.  Better than that bastard who hurt you.”

“Ed, stop.”  Moving forward, she
attempted to keep him quiet, shifting the pillow under his head and settling
the blanket around his skinny shoulders.  “Rest now.  Close your eyes.” 
Please. 
Please
.

“Heard you cry,” he mumbled. 
“That night.  Bastard.”

Conscious of Sam standing behind
her, she resisted the impulse to hold the pillow over Ed’s face.  “Go to sleep,
Ed.”

“You’re a good girl.”  He tried to
pat her cheek, missed and flopped his hand back to the bed.  “Saw Mira there, Carly.”

“Mira?”

“At the pub.”  Ed closed his
eyes.  “Charlie left.”

Shit.  Now she knew why he’d
gotten sozzled, or part of the reason.  Personally, she thought getting drunk
because of his ex was poor, especially when he was trying to impress another
woman.  Tomorrow she’d have to drag the full story from him.

Ed mumbled a few more things
before growing silent.

With a sigh of relief, Carly straightened
and turned around to look up into Sam’s steady gaze, his eyes behind the
glasses assessing.

“Rough night,” he stated quietly.

“Yes.”   When he continued to
watch her, she sighed.  “Thanks for helping, Sam.”

“No worries.”  His gaze didn’t
shift.  “Will you be all right?”

“Of course.  Ed will sleep this
off and suffer in the morning.”

“I mean you.  You’re pale.”

“Oh.”  She shrugged.  “It’s
nothing.”

“Okay.”  He gave her one last look
before turning away.

When he didn’t move further, she
realised that he was waiting for her to precede him.  His courteous ways were
delightfully old fashioned, but as much as it delighted her, it also made her
self-conscious when she walked ahead of him.

Moving past him, she led him out
into the hallway.  “Thanks again, Sam, I really appreciate it.  I’m sorry I had
to involve you.”

“Stop apologising.”

“Can’t help it.  It’s not every
day you have to deal with a crying drunk.”

“You’d be surprised.”

By now they had reached the front
door and stepped out onto the veranda.  Unable to help the curiosity she felt
at his remark, she arched one brow at him.  “Are you a barman?”

His teeth flashed white in the
dimness of the veranda light.  “Nope.”

Folding her arms, she studied
him.  “What do you do, Sam?”

“I’m a nurse.”  With a cheerful
wave, he ambled down the steps.  “G’night, honey.”

Open-mouthed, Carly watched him
return home.  A
nurse
?

Crusher whined at her feet and she
looked down to see that he’d followed them out and was now sitting at her feet,
his gaze going from Sam to her.

“Trust me,” she told him, “I’m
just as gob-smacked.”

Chapter 3

Tonight he had a date with
Dorothy, but first he had something else to do, one he actually anticipated. He
was heading over to Carly’s house to remove the dressing on her palm.

Coming up the garden path, he
noted the daisies now lining each side, their brightly coloured heads bobbing
in the slight breeze.  The weeds that had been taking over the path were gone. 
Nodding in approval, he went up what were fast becoming familiar steps.

He couldn’t help but notice the
difference on the veranda.  Gone were the cobwebs, two big cane chairs with
high backs and colourful cushions sat each side of a small, frosted glass top
table at one end, and a couple of big, potted plants flanked the door.  A large
statue of a dog and a cat, curled up together in sleep, was at the other end of
the veranda.  A big hanging basket hung each side of the veranda posts lining
the steps, and what looked to be Black-eyed Susans were already starting to
trail their vines over the tops.  If trained correctly, once they were long
enough they’d wrap around the posts in a beautiful display.

The door mat made him pause. 
Plain brown, it boldly proclaimed in black letters
‘wipe your feet or I’ll
kick your arse’
.  Grinning, he lifted his hand to ring the big, old
fashioned bell, noted that the wooden door was open, and instead called through
the security screen, “Hello the house!”

A wild series of yapping sounded
and Crusher appeared at the door, barking madly. Looking down at him, Sam
raised one eyebrow.  If SJ got hold of the over-grown rat, he’d eat him, no
doubt about it.

“Crusher, settle down!”  Carly’s
voice neared.

Pushing up his glasses, Sam thrust
his hands into his shorts and rocked backward and forward in his sneakers.

The light from the passage was
behind Carly, outlining that soft, rounded body, picking out the inward dip of
her waist between the swell of her rounded hips and an impressive bosom.

For a brief instant he wondered
what her breasts looked like free of the confines of shirt and bra.  Big and
full?  Pendulous, as were many heavy breasts?  Pink nipples?  Brown?  He for
sure knew without seeing that they’d over fill his palms, and he could only
imagine how warm - or even a little cool - her skin would be against his.

Would she smell sweet there, if he
buried his face in that luscious cleavage?

No doubt she’d slap his face if
she knew his thoughts, but damn, he was just a red-blooded man who found her
generous figure rather enticing.

To be truthful, it had been awhile
time since he’d found any woman enticing.

Forcing all nefarious thoughts
from his mind, he smiled.  “Hey, Carly.”

“Sam.”  Surprised, she opened the
security door.

And that, right there, told him a
lot. He was a good judge of character and no way would she have opened the door
to someone she didn’t trust.  It made his smile even wider.

“What can I do for you?” she
queried.

Crusher dashed out and proceeded
to snuffle Sam’s feet.  Grabbing hold of one of the sneaker laces, he tried to
tug it free.

“Crusher, no.”  Carly bent down to
grab him.

Her head being level with his
crotch had Sam’s good intentions sliding, and he had to resist the temptation
to reach out and smooth his hand along the skin of her back where it peeked out
between her shirt and pants waistband.  He could only imagine how her skin
would be, all warm and silky.  He could lick down her spine and dabble the tip
of his tongue right in the dip of-

“Sorry.”  Straightening, Carly
looked down at the wriggling dog in her hands.  “He’s a shocker for taking
things.”  She flashed Sam a sudden smile, her small teeth white between her naturally
pink lips.

Pink like fairy-floss.  He could
lick them, too.  Suck them and kiss them and lick his way inside-

“Anyway.”  Nuzzling the top of the
dog’s head, she peered up at him.  “What can I do for you, Sam?”

Scream my name in a very throaty
way.
 Swallowing back the retort, he shook his head.  Where were these thoughts
coming from?  Hell, he had to get himself in hand, and not in the deviant way
Alan would have taken that thought.

When Carly’s friendly expression
started to turn a little wary at his continued silence - and no doubt ogling eyes
- Sam gave himself a mental head slap.  It cleared his thoughts.

Dirty bastard that he was
.

“Your hand.”

“Huh?”

He gestured to her hand.  “I came
to take the dressing down and check it.”  He lifted the first aid kit he held.

“Oh, it’s fine.”  Carly shrugged. 
“I meant to take it off yesterday and forgot.”

“Damn.”  Sam frowned.  “I should
have come across then.  I missed a day.”

Her eyes gleamed in amusement. 
“Really?”

“Yeah.”  Reaching out, he took her
hand, cupping the back of it in his palm.  Yep, small hand, soft with a few calluses. 
The Primapore wasn’t exactly pristine.  “Can I have a look?”

“I kind of thought that was what
you were doing?”

At the humorous tone he glanced
up, struck by how her soft brown eyes twinkled.  Would they go all hot like melting
chocolate in the depths of passion?

Jesus
.

Dragging his thoughts back once
more to the issue at hand, Sam smiled back at her.  “I guess so.”

“I can look at it myself, you
know.”

“I’d just like to make sure it’s
healing okay.”

“All right.”  She held the door
open.  “Come into the kitchen and I’ll wash my hands.”

Easily reaching above her, he
placed one hand on the screen door.  “After you.”

“So chivalrous,” she teased.

“Mum raised me right.” 

Man, that tease had his knees
going weak.  That was what happened when one went to sleep and dreamed dreams
so sensual that his morning boner was hard enough to hammer nails into wood. 
Sensual dreams that featured Carly Miller and her nightie.

Following her inside, Sam couldn’t
help but look at her bottom as it swayed with every step.  Man, did she have
any idea what that did to him?  Probably not, or she certainly wouldn’t have
let him into her home.

Sobering thought and enough to
make him finally push every lusty thought away.  For now, at least, he wasn’t
fool enough to think he could just forget his dreams involving him, her, and a
bed.

In the kitchen, she bent down to
place Crusher on the floor.  “I’ll just wash my hands.”  She left the room.

Sam looked down as he felt the
tugging on his sneaker.  Crusher had a firm grip on his shoelace, his nose all
scrunched up and eyes narrowed as he tugged, little back legs braced, paws
slipping on the tiles.

“Yeah,” said Sam, “I don’t think
it’s going to work.”  Placing the first aid kit on the bench, he squatted down
and after separating Crusher from his shoelace, gave him a scratch behind the
ears.

Crusher went all dreamy-eyed.

Sam was still laughing when Carly
returned.

“Now he’s your friend for life.” 
She stood next to the bench.

“Good to know.  I won’t have to
fear for my life whenever he comes near.”  Sam glanced around.  “Do you mind if
I wash my hands?”

“Sure.”  She gestured behind her. 
“The bathroom is down the hall.”

A quick hand wash with rose
scented liquid soap and he returned to the kitchen to find her still standing
at the kitchen bench.

“I didn’t know where you wanted
me,” she said.

If she only knew…

Wondering what the hell was wrong
with him - man, those dreams were playing havoc with his common sense - Sam
came to stand before her.  “Anywhere you feel comfortable.  Here or the kitchen
table.”

“Here.”  She held out her hand.

Carefully, Sam peeled off the old
Primapore and inspected the wound.  The steri-strips were intact, and while the
edges of the wound were pink, he was satisfied.  No ooze and no redness.

Opening the first aid kit, he took
out some saline and sterile gauze.  Using tweezers, he deftly cleaned the wound
before putting on a new Primapore.

“It’s too soon to leave it open,”
he told Carly when she touched it.

“Whatever you say, doc.”  She smiled.

“That’s nurse, actually.”

“Somehow, I can’t quite seem to
bring myself to call you ‘Sister’.”  Her smile grew wider.  “If they still call
nurses ‘sister’, that is.”

“Sam’ll do.”  He grinned back.

This close to her, he could smell
the scent she wore, something light and flowery that he wanted to get a bigger
sniff of, preferably with his nose right against her neck.

Man, talk about schoolboy
crushes.  He hadn’t had one in years.  Probably the remains of the dreams.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” she
queried as he threw the dirty dressings in the bin.

He leaped on the invitation like a
starving man on a haunch of roast beef.  “Love one, thanks.”

Pushing the first aid kit to the
end of the table, Sam sat down on the opposite side so that he could watch her as
she put the kettle on to boil and retrieved mugs from a cupboard.

While watching her was
pleasurable, he didn’t want to strain any budding friendship by staring at her
in silence.  Really, he had to get a grip on himself.  He wasn’t a schoolboy
anymore, and a dream was only a dream. Reality was far different.

Stretching out his legs, he
crossed his ankles and settled back against the chair.  “How’s Ed this
morning?”

“Hung over.”  She spooned sugar
into one mug and looked at him inquiringly.

“Two teaspoons.”

Spooning in the sugar, she
continued, “I got up during the night and made him drink some water, gave him
Panadol early this morning, and he insisted he was feeling a little better and
went to work.”  She flipped a teabag into each mug.  “Looked like crap, but you
have to admire the man.”  A small smile played around her lips.

“Bit of a workaholic, is he?”

“Actually, yes, but that’s not why
he went to work.”  Amusement shone in her eyes when she glanced across at him. 
“Ed didn’t want to be nagged.”

“Guilty conscience?”

“Very much so.”  Taking a biscuit
barrel from the end of the kitchen bench, she put several biscuits on a plate
and brought it to the table, setting it in the middle.

Enjoying the feeling of
companionship, Sam watched her contentedly until he noticed her sudden frown as
she poured the hot water into the mugs.  Her expression was distinctly troubled
when she held up the milk bottle.

“Not for me, thanks,” he replied
to her unspoken question.

By the time she sat down opposite
him, her expression hadn’t lightened, though she tried to hide it.

“Everything all right?” he asked
as she took a tentative sip from her mug.

“Of course.”  She smiled, but it
didn’t reach her eyes.

Wondering if he’d actually
mistaken her welcome, Sam glanced around the kitchen before looking back at her. 
“Were you busy when I came over?  I’m sorry if I-”

“Not at all.  I’m glad you came
over.”  Her shoulders relaxed slightly.  “Thanks for last night, Sam, I don’t
know how I would have managed if you hadn’t been there.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“Really.  It’s been awhile
since…”  She hesitated, dropping her gaze to the mug around the top of which
she ran one finger.  “Ed’s sort of going through a rough patch.”

“I kind of gathered that from what
he said last night.”

“Slurred, you mean.”

“Sure.”

Carly smiled slightly.  “Always so
polite.”

“I try.”

“Bet it isn’t hard for you.”

If she knew about his dreams, he
doubted she’d be sitting so calmly across from him.  Probably run away
screaming if she even had a hint.

“Is there anything I can do to
help?” Almost straight away he wondered why he offered.

Sheesh, he never got involved in
other people’s problems.  Yet somehow the words just fell out of his mouth, and
even as he was silently appalled at himself, he meant it.

Helping people at work was one
thing, being there for friends another, but he’d only known Carly for a few
days, and Ed, well, he’d just met him last night, yet there was something about
them both that he liked.

“That’s sweet, Sam, but we’ll be
fine.”

He should have felt relieved, so
he wondered why he didn’t.

Taking a biscuit, Carly slowly turned
it over and over between her fingers.  “Ed’s my uncle.”

Glad he hadn’t yet taken a bite
from his own biscuit because he’d have surely choked, Sam stared at her. 
“What?”

“Ed.  He’s my uncle.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Her eyes crinkled engagingly at
the corners.  “I’m dead serious.”

“Kind of young.”

“Yep.  Late life baby.”

“Ah.”  Now it made sense.

“Big surprise for my
grandparents.  In more ways than one.”

“So you two are close.”

“Yeah.  We grew up together like
cousins.”  Carly dunked her biscuit into the mug.  “He’s an all right bloke,
you know.”

“He seems like it.”

She looked seriously at him.  “Ed
isn’t the kind to get drunk normally.  I know you must be a little worried
about things.”

Sam raised his eyebrows in silent
query.

“I met your neighbour, Debbie.”

No guessing that Ed hadn’t made a
good impression on Debbie.  Sam knew how she valued appearances, and Ed wasn’t
exactly what she perceived as having good taste in that area.

“Debbie’s a little more…refined.” 
Picking up his mug, he took a sip to hide his grin.

“Yeah.  She wasn’t impressed with
Ed’s jokes.  Not that Ed let her think it was one.”  Carly sighed.  “Anyway, I
just want you to know that Ed loves his bikes, and he has like-minded friends,
but they’re not a rough group.”

He could see where this was
going.  “Carly-”