Willow Brook Road(110)

To his surprise, she didn’t seem to be bothered by the slow, steady pace toward an uncertain ending. He smiled at her deliberate nonchalance.

“Any thoughts on how we’ll know when we get to the last step?” he asked, taking her hand and weaving their fingers together as they sat side by side with darkness falling.

“Since I’ve never gotten there with anyone before, I’m not sure, but based on evidence I’ve seen around me, I think we’ll recognize it when it happens.”

“Are you okay with waiting?”

She turned to him then, her expression earnest. “Do we have a choice? Sam, I like you. No, more than that, I think I may be falling in love with you, but it’s not a one-sided decision. I can wait till you get there, and then we can decide what happens next.”

“Some people think sex comes into play at some point,” he said, fighting a smile and a rush of hormones stirred just by the suggestion.

“Don’t think for one second that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind,” she said. “You?”

“It’s front and center right now, as a matter of fact.”

He saw her lips curve at that. Then she sighed.

“Good to know.”

“But it’s not going to happen, is it?” he said with regret.

“Not tonight with the possibility that Bobby could wake up and wander in on us,” she said.

“Run away with me,” he pleaded with some urgency.

Carrie laughed. “Much as I might want to, I can wait. Anticipation is half the fun.”

“It’s not the half I’d like to get to right now,” Sam grumbled. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, then took each finger into his mouth. He heard her breath hitch, even as his blood hummed. “You wouldn’t want to come over and share this lounge chair with me, would you?”

“Sounds dangerous,” she said.

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

A second later, she was stretched out beside him, her head on his shoulder, her body fit snugly against his. It was a form of sweet torture to be sure, but it definitely clarified the direction in which they were heading.





21

Carrie was going through the stack of résumés on her desk once again, hoping to spot the perfect candidate for assistant manager. Unfortunately, she kept getting distracted by memories of her evening with Sam.

The more time they spent together, the closer they were getting. And, she thought wryly, the more frustrated they were becoming. Despite their reaffirmation just last night that they wouldn’t sleep together with Bobby in the house, that rule was getting more and more difficult to abide by.

Nor were they in any position to suddenly take off for a day or two on their own, even though Kevin and Shanna had offered more than once to let Bobby have a sleepover at their house. They both had too much work right now to take advantage of the offer.

Plus, if she were being totally honest, Carrie wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with all the questions that were bound to follow if the family discovered they’d gone on a trip together. With O’Briens that was tantamount to an admission that a wedding was right around the corner. Inquiries along that line would add way too much pressure.

And then there was Marc. As diligent as she’d been about ignoring his texts and calls, his insistent attempts to contact her kept that part of her life very much alive. She didn’t want any part of that old life, but she couldn’t quite forget it—or him—completely. What did that say about her feelings for Sam?

Since wrestling with all of this was getting her nowhere, she sighed and forced her attention back to the résumés. She reached the bottom of the pile and concluded that there was nothing she’d missed the first time around. There simply were no good candidates.

Just then, a tap on the front door of the center startled her. Most people just walked in, even with the closed sign on the door. She hurried across the room, wondering if there was some inspection she hadn’t known about or possibly a parent desperate to find child care and hoping not to be turned away if they came in person.

Instead, she discovered Lucy on the porch.

“Hi,” Lucy said, shifting nervously from foot to foot, a tentative smile on her face. “I know you must be swamped with details, but do you have some time to talk to me?”

“For you, absolutely,” Carrie said with delight. “What brings you here? Come on in. I have some bottled water if you’re thirsty, but not much else.”

“That’s okay. I’m good. Well, mostly good. Actually I’m a little rattled, because I don’t know how you’re going to react to this, but Mom told me I had to try.”