On the heels of those questions, came images that sent her heart rate through the roof. Coop naked in the shower, then lying on his big bed…waiting for her to wake him. And do what?
“Holy mother of pearl. I am in so much trouble here.”
Coop relaxed on the couch sipping a glass of wine of all things, not beer, watching some chick flick set in England back in the old days on TV.
Jack wandered in, glanced at the screen, and went back to the kitchen.
Coop hid a smile by taking another drink. Smart dog.
When Sam came to his door half an hour ago, he was already awake, anticipating the remainder of the evening. Her choice in movies notwithstanding, he was enjoying himself.
“What about the last victim? Any progress?” Sam lounged beside him, long legs curled up beneath her, slender fingers wrapped around the delicate stem of her wineglass.
The flowery fragrance she wore reminded him of sunshine and roses. He really liked sunshine and roses. “No ID yet. I’m hoping the dental records will help. Basically, I got squat for evidence on either of them.”
“Is it…could it be the same killer?”
“…I think it is.” He rolled his head to look at her. “I believe he’s either local or comes through on a regular basis. That’s why I said no jogging alone till I catch him. I don’t want you taking any chances. I’m glad Eva had someone to drive her to the social tonight, or I would have taken her and brought her home.”
“I just can’t imagine someone doing something so vile.”
The statement didn’t really need an answer so he turned his attention to the program as a meddlesome, shrill-voiced woman plotted to get one of her daughters married off to some rich dude.
He tried to ignore the warmth of Sam’s knee where it pressed against his thigh. More than anything, he wanted to run his hand up her leg—he gave himself a mental shake and focused on the unpleasant woman again, a mood-killer if ever one existed.
“What about the other girl?”
“Joyce Ayers. From Dallas. All indications are she was just passing through.” He didn’t offer more since the evening news would provide that much, and she didn’t ask for particulars. It suddenly dawned on him how much he missed having someone to talk to; someone to share a glass of wine with or watch a bad movie. Life before Sam wasn’t much fun.
She drained her glass as the program broke for commercials. “You hate this movie, don’t you?”
He didn’t have to be a cop to recognize a trick question when he heard it, so opted for a neutral answer. “I don’t hate it. But, that mother is a piece of work.”
“Back then, few marriages were love matches. Most were arranged by the families for one reason or another, and the woman rarely had a say in it.”
He grinned. “Can’t see you letting anyone order you around.”
“Yeah, well, I take suggestions under advisement. Orders…I tend to ignore.”
“So, you wouldn’t consider one of those marriages of convenience?”
“No,” she said firmly. “It’s love or not at all.”
Their gazes locked and his heart hammered. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. From the very beginning, she affected him in ways no woman ever had, which alternately scared and fascinated him.
He felt like he was drowning, flailing about as he treaded water, and she was a lifeline.
He leaned over to place his empty glass on the table beside hers. He could have more easily reached to his right and set it there, but he wouldn’t be in a position to entice a kiss. And he wanted a kiss. Desperately.
Her chest moved in rapid, uneven motions as he took his time putting the glass down, then pulled back until they were face-to-face.
“You make me crazy, Doc,” he whispered, as he cupped her neck and brought his lips down to hers. The kiss was slow and methodical as he explored the luscious recesses of her mouth, tasting the tartness of the Bordeaux along with the sweetness uniquely Sam. Her soft moan of pleasure as her arms encircled his waist nearly undid him.
She returned his kiss with enthusiasm, fingers digging into his back as she melted against him. With little effort, he could have her beneath him on the over-sized couch. He considered following the primordial instinct blazing inside him.
He wanted her. She wanted him.
There was nothing to stop them from taking what they wanted.
But suddenly, it was more than physical need driving him. Some indefinable emotion intruded, and he pulled back, bringing her with him so she lay against his side. He slid his hand up and down her arm. “I want you, Sam. You know that,” he whispered against her hair. “But I want to know you, too. I want to sit here and watch this movie if that’s what interests you. I want to know about your life, things you like and don’t like, whatever you want to tell me.”
She craned her neck to look at him, and those azure depths sucked him in, body and soul.
“I want that, too, Coop.” Her face glowed brighter than the noonday sun. “But I won’t make you watch any more of this movie. It’s just where the channel was when I turned it on.”
“You’ll still make me a chocolate cake tomorrow, right? Even if I don’t watch your movie?”
She nestled against him. “Yes, I’ll make you a cake. The remote is on the coffee table. Put it wherever you want.”
The screeching woman was gone and two pretty girls were discussing some wealthy bachelor their father went to see…or planned to see…or something. Nothing he couldn’t handle.
“If this gets me brownie points, I’m in for the duration.” He put his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table, and relaxed against the back of the couch, with Sam nestled beside him.
