I pressed closer to Sam.
The man held Sam’s eyes but, cold-blooded killer for hire in a golf shirt or not, his face had paled.
Then he nodded.
“Get out,” Sam ordered.
He nodded again.
Then he asked, “Can I have my gun?”
Sam didn’t speak and I wasn’t in a position to see his face but whatever look he gave the man, it worked. Instantly, the man got to his feet, turned and moved quickly out the door.
Sam turned and looked down at me.
“Grab the phone. Foot of the bed, on your ass on the floor. Dial nine, one, one but do not hit go. You hear anything, feel anything you don’t like, you hit go. Yeah?”
I nodded, moved to the phone and grabbed it. Then I moved to the foot of the bed and dropped to my ass on the floor. Then I hit the buttons and cuddled Memphis to me.
Sam took me in then took off.
I sat there listening hard and breathing harder.
Memphis stayed still, close and silent.
It took seven years then Sam came back.
He came direct to me, dropped both guns to the bed, bent down and pulled me up by my wrist. Then he stalked to his nightstand, tagged his cell, flipped it open, hit some buttons and put it to his ear. I turned his landline off.
Seconds later, he growled into the phone, “Yeah, I fuckin’ know what time it is but what you don’t know is I got a fuckin’ bullet hole in the floor of my bedroom because Kia and I just got paid a visit by her hit man and he didn’t take me seriously, tried to turn the safety off on his gun and I had to make a point. Now, Cal, what I wanna know is, how the fuck did he breach your security?”
Okay, I’d seen Sam annoyed, pissed and downright angry. Even really downright angry.
But it was safe to say he was right now enraged.
I cuddled Memphis closer.
“Yeah, that’d be good, you come in person to check it out,” Sam kept growling then continued growling when he stated, “Yeah, he said he’d stand down. And I feel good about it because he knows I missed on purpose but still tore a hole through his fuckin’ khaki fuckin’ pants in the dark with my warning shot. I still wanna know how he breached your goddamned system. I have two men on dayshift, no nightshift ‘cause it’s supposed to be impenetrable. I thought we were unsafe, Aziz or Deaver would have neutralized him and my woman would not be shakin’ like a fuckin’ leaf right about now.”
He’d torn a hole through that man’s khaki’s with his warning shot?
Uh.
Wow.
Obviously they didn’t mess around in Ranger school.
“Yeah,” Sam’s voice was now quieter and a whole lot less ticked off, “I know you got three girls under your roof and you get me. I also want my question answered, Cal.” He listened, sucked in breath through his nose then, “Right.” Then clearly the unknown Cal broke through because his lips twitched and he muttered, “Yeah, khakis.” Then a pause before he went on muttering with a, “Fuck me.”
Then he chuckled.
I wasn’t finding one, single thing amusing.
He must have caught my vibe because his eyes cut to me then he said into his phone, “Kia’s about to have a shit fit or a breakdown. I gotta be available for either one. Let me know your plans.” A pause then, “Right, later.”
Then he flipped his phone shut.
The instant he did, I remarked, “I find it immensely disturbing that a hit man wears a golf shirt.”
Sam’s lips twitched then he ordered gently, “Baby, come here.”
“But I think it’s good to know that Memphis won’t be friendly to unwelcome intruders.”
“Kia, honey, come here.”
“And we must make a mental note to patch that bullet hole in your floor before your Mom gets here,” I informed him.
Sam gave up on his order and told me quietly, “He wasn’t here to hurt you. I hired the best. He was running scared. He wanted assurances.”
“I got that.”
“Now he’s got his assurances and you’re good.”
“What does he mean by Lee and his whack jobs?” I asked.
Sam hesitated, studying me. Then, carefully, he answered, “Lee owns a private investigations agency but he dips his toe in a lotta shit. His crew has a variety of skills. They are known to be very good at what they do and not to fuck around. You’re smart; you don’t get on their bad side. He wasn’t smart. He took a job to kill an innocent woman. That was strike one. And that job he took was to kill a woman who’d been abused. That was strike two. For Lee and his crew, you don’t get a strike two.”
Great.
In normal circumstances, I would find that admirable.
Now, not so much.
“Will they step in, piss him off and make him forget about his promise to stand down?”
Understanding hit Sam’s face and he kept talking quietly when he replied, “They step in, he won’t get the chance to forget his promise.”
“You’re sure of that?” I pushed.
“Sure as I’m standin’ here.”
“You were sure that Cal guy’s security system was impenetrable too.”
It was a mean thing to say but, in my defense, I was freaking out. A hit man in a golf shirt made it to Sam’s bedroom.
Sam was clearly done with distance and I knew this because he moved to me and when he got close enough to lunge, he did so, grabbing my hand, pulling me around the bed and into his arms.
Then he tipped his chin down and told me, “That bitch didn’t hock a bunch of shit. She hocked a bunch of heirlooms. She also didn’t take out a small second mortgage, she took out one on all the equity they had in their place, which was a lot.” His arms gave me a squeeze. “What I’m sayin’ is, I paid for the best to cover you. She found the best she could find to do his job. I was aware this man was a man to take seriously. That guy was a ghost so we had no idea of his skills. We only knew he had them considering his price tag. Now we know one of his skills. He came up here, safety on, knowin’ who I was and that I also have skills. He was wavin’ the white flag. I felt like bein’ safe and in any uncertain situation, you gain the upper hand. That’s why I took him to his knees. He gets me. He understands what I can do. He didn’t come here to harm you. He came here to make sure his headaches were done. He’s cautious and he’s thorough. Neither are a surprise but both are a pain in the ass. But it no longer matters. He’s history. That said, I got some calls to make for peace of mind and I need to make them now. You okay for ten minutes while I do that? Then we’ll keep talkin’.”
I looked up at him.
He had things to do for peace of mind which meant my safety. He also knew I was freaking out and needed him. So he was going to give me that if I needed it and his peace of mind be damned.
Yep. Definitely. I was falling in love with him.
I didn’t share that. I said, “I’m okay for ten minutes while you do that.”
He gave me a squeeze, let me go with one arm, reached out to the bed, snagged both guns then he moved us up the bed. He put the guns on his nightstand, took the phone from me and put it in its cradle. Then he maneuvered me and Memphis into the bed and got in it with us. He sat back to the headboard, knees bent and held Memphis and me tucked close to his side.
Then he called Deaver, briefed him quickly and told him he wanted twenty-four hour coverage on the house starting now. Then he called Lee, briefed him and explained the situation. I didn’t get much about Lee’s replies due to Sam’s side of the conversation being guarded. I decided to bury that in a part of my brain I never intended to access again so I did that. Then Sam called what apparently was Tanner’s voicemail at work and left a message.
Then he flipped his phone shut, tossed it on the nightstand, turned to me, both his arms came around me and Memphis and he slid us up his chest.
“Right,” he whispered, “how you doin’?”
“I’m good,” I whispered back.
“Deaver and Aziz are sta
yin’ in a hotel in town. He’s gonna make contact when he gets here. I gotta go down. You wanna come with me or try to get back to sleep?”
There was no way in hell I was going to go back to sleep.
Still, I also didn’t want to see a woken up and called to duty in the middle of the night Deaver. He wasn’t overly friendly by the light of day; I didn’t want to experience a Deaver who’d had his beauty rest interrupted.
So I said, “I think Memphis proved she’s got my back.”
Sam grinned. Then he shifted an arm from around me, pulled Memphis out of my clutch and held her up, her face close to his.
“Good girl,” he muttered.
Memphis aimed and missed a lick at Sam’s nose.
Sam handed her back to me.
“I’ll be back soon,” he whispered.
“Okay,” I whispered back.
“You sure you’re okay?”
No.
But I was sure I’d eventually get that way.
So I answered for the future, “Yeah, I’m sure I’m okay.”
He leaned in and kissed my nose. Then he gave Memphis a head scratch, disentangled from us, nabbed his gun and moved to the door.
He stopped in it and looked back at me.
“I’ll be back soon,” he repeated.
God, Sam Cooper was a good man.
“I know,” I whispered.
He studied me a second, his face got soft then he disappeared into the dark hall.
I moved Memphis and I under the downy cover and into Sam’s soft sheets. Then I looked at Sam’s alarm clock and saw it was twelve minutes after three o’clock in the morning.
At twenty past, Sam came back and Memphis and I watched as he put his gun on the nightstand then he slid in bed in his shorts and gathered me and my dog in his arms before he twisted and turned the lamp off.
“Deaver on duty?” I asked.
“He did a perimeter check and yeah, he’s on duty.”
I nodded, my cheek sliding against his chest.
Sam’s arms got tight.
Then I whispered, “It’s over.”
Sam’s arms got tighter.
I felt tears sting my nose and my voice was husky when I whispered, “Thank you, Sam Cooper.”
Sam rolled to facing me, Memphis jumped out from between us and went to sprawl on her side and Sam pulled me close. I shoved my face in his throat and wept, luckily silently but with extreme relief.
As I did this, lips against the hair at the top of my head, Sam whispered back, “My pleasure, baby.”
My breath hitched and I pressed closer.
Sam’s arms got even tighter.
And it was then I knew I was wrong.
I wasn’t falling in love with Sam.
I was already there.
Chapter Twenty-One
I Did Not Raise a Stupid Man
Two days later…
“I should have brought flowers,” I mumbled, staring down the wide terminal hall Sam and I were standing at the end of and doing it like a stampede of bulls was heading my way.
“Baby, relax,” Sam whispered, his arm wound around my waist giving me an affectionate squeeze.
Right. Relax. Easy for him to say. He’d known his mother since inception and it was her duty to like him.
“Flowers say welcome,” I informed him. “And they make a good impression.”
Sam curled his body into mine and wrapped his other arm around me, saying softly, “Kia, honey, you got flowers on the kitchen bar. You got flowers on the kitchen island. You got flowers on the dining room table. And you got flowers and chocolates in her bedroom. I think you’ve got the welcome and good impression down, baby.”
This was true. However, I had two plus hours of airport, baggage claim and ride home to navigate before she even saw the flowers and chocolates. And I had to navigate this without doing something that made me seem like a freak, a dork, a slut or a loser. I wasn’t certain I could do that. I was too young when things started up with Cooter even to know I should care that his mother liked me. By the time I learned, I didn’t even care if Cooter liked me. I had no experience with this kind of thing.
Then what Sam said hit me and my panic escalated. So much, I had to share it.
Therefore my hands fisted in his shirt, I got up on my toes and whispered anxiously, “Oh my God, Sam, is that too much?”
“Kia –” he tried (and failed) to break in.
“Four bouquets of flowers and a box of chocolates?”
Sam tried (and failed) again. “Kia, baby –”
“I know!” I cried. “You detain her in the garage; I’ll run upstairs, grab a couple of the bouquets and the chocolate and throw them over your deck.”
His arms squeezed tight, his face dipped close, his smile got so big it had to hurt and he clipped out a trembling with amusement, “Kia, baby, fuckin’ relax. She’s gonna love you.”
I stared at him then totally ignored him and noted, “I shouldn’t have worn high heels.”
He tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling. However, he did this with his body shaking with silent laughter.
I didn’t have the time or energy to deal with Sam (again) thinking an unamusing situation was amusing.
I had to psych myself up.
Unfortunately, this took me through a mental perusal of my outfit. I was thinking I should have gone shorts and tank or maybe a cute little shirt with flip-flops. But no. I decided to wear a dress I bought with Celeste. Navy blue, the bodice going straight across the tops of my breasts with a spaghetti strap that started at my armpits and went around the back of my neck. It fit close down to my waist then flared out in a cute little short skirt. I was wearing my strappy, silver, high-heeled sandals with it. I certainly looked like I belonged on Sampson Cooper’s arm and I knew this by the (many) approving looks we were getting. But Sam wasn’t Sampson Cooper to his mother and I was afraid I’d gone overboard.
Taking my mind off that, it decided to move through yesterday which was good. This was because yesterday was good. In my mission to break through with Sam, yesterday I felt I didn’t do too badly.
The day started with the good news that Sam felt pretty confident that the hit man was on his way to Bora Bora never to return to darken our door again. Tanner Layne’s morning call sharing he received a confirmation e-mail from the hit man that he was standing down helped. I thought this was overkill and might be his way of putting us off the scent. Sam (and Tanner and, after Sam phoned him, Lee) disagreed. They all felt that Sam’s point had been made very clearly as getting a pair of khakis ruined by a bullet was wont to do. They felt the hit man just wanted to make sure that all the players were aware of his intention not to kill me. I saw the wisdom of believing them seeing as I had enough on my plate trying to make Sam open up to me at the same time fall in love with me and making a good impression with his mother. Not to mention, they were experts in this crazy shit and I was not.
After Sam took his run, I talked him into hitting town to buy flowers, chocolates and vases (Sam’s kitchen was kitted out but he was not a man who owned vases, this I discovered during my search while he was running). We picked up what we needed then Sam drove us out of town straight to a Jeep dealership. He did not share that a visit to a Jeep dealership was on our day’s agenda so I was a little surprised.
I became very surprised when we were met by a salesman who was clearly beside himself with glee that he scored Sampson Cooper but was still trying to act cool.
After his effusive (but trying to be cool) greeting, Sam told him, “Need to lease my woman a Jeep Cherokee. Thinkin’…” he trailed off, glanced through the lot then looked at the man and finished, “green.”
I stopped breathing.
The man chirped excitedly, “Absolutely! Let’s get you a test drive. I’ll go get some keys. Be right back!” Then he sprinted (yes, sprinted) into the building.
“Uh… what’s going on?” I asked and Sam looked down at me.
“Gettin’ y
ou a ride,” Sam answered.
“Um, shouldn’t we go to a car rental place or…” I looked around then back at him, “do they do day and week rentals here?”
Sam’s head cocked slightly to the side and he repeated, “Day and week rentals?”
“The threat is over, honey. I mean, I want to meet your Mom so I’ll stay for that but then I have to go home and sort out my life.”
“Right,” Sam agreed. “But what are you gonna drive while you’re here?”
“A rental car and I don’t need anything fancy. Just a compact from Avis or something.”
That was when Sam’s brows drew together and he asked, “No, baby, I mean when you’re here.”
The emphasis on the final word didn’t mean as much to me as it obviously meant to Sam so I wisely decided to tread cautiously.
“Let’s back up,” I said quietly. “What’s going on and this time maybe you should add some details to your answer.”
Sam studied me a moment then did as I requested. “You live in Indiana.”
I nodded.
“I live here.”
I nodded again.
“You need to go back there, family, friends, whatever. When you’re there, you’ve already got a ride.”
I nodded yet again.
“When you’re here, you need a ride. So I’m seein’ to you havin’ a ride.”
Okay, although there were more words to this explanation, I was still not following.
“Yes, and I can rent one from Avis or something, like you did when you were in Indiana.”
Sam’s head cocked to the side again and his brows drew together again at the same time which I thought might be a scary combination.
“Baby, I live here.”
I was getting kind of impatient. “I know, Sam.”
“And you’re my woman.”
Uh-oh. Not this again.
I had a feeling there was an additional nuance to me being his woman that he thought I should get that I did not.
“Sam –” I began to tell him this but he turned fully to me, lifting his hands and curling his fingers around either side of my neck, his face dipping to my face, his was serious so I shut up.