Heaven and Hell (Page 69)

“Ford,” I heard Mom say and looked to see her talking on the phone. “Yeah, they’re here. They made it, safe and sound. They needed a little…” she paused, took in my robe, her gaze gliding over Sam’s half-buttoned shirt but studiously avoiding Sam’s eyes and she kind of but not totally lied, “rest. Kia needs to spend half an hour on her hair and twenty minutes on her makeup and they’ll be over.”

“Yep, that’s your mother,” Sam muttered.

I shot him a look.

He ignored the look, let me go and took Memphis from me, lifting her up so they were eye-to-eye.

“You Memphis?” he asked my dog and Memphis yapped her affirmative while I stared at them thinking that no one, but no one, but no one but Sam could make talking to a King Charles spaniel eye-to-eye cool.

Sam curled Memphis into one of his arms and rubbed her head with his other hand, Memphis panted happily and Sam’s eyes came to me. “She’s cute.”

“Told you that too,” I said softly.

He grinned at me.

“Right!” Mom stated loudly, snapping her phone shut and instantly shoving it in her bag. “Your father says the match has been struck, the grill has been lit. This means I need to get home and man the deep fat fryer. You’ve got half an hour. Bring your camera.” Her eyes went to Sam. “Very nice to meet you, Sam and see you in half an hour.” Her eyes swept through the girls. “Out to the car, Kia has to get ready and iron Sam’s shirt so we need to leave her to it.”

“I’ll iron your shirt,” Teri offered, her eyes on his chest and I could be wrong but it looked like they were glazing over.

“I think I got it, Teri,” I told her.

I watched her body jerk.

“Spoilsport,” she muttered to me on a grin.

“All right! See you guys in half an hour,” Paula stated, hooking Teri with an arm and moving to follow Mom who was already out the door, this because she knew from experience when Dad was at the grill, the whole world began revolving around his grill efforts and she was part of that world so she had to get her ass in gear. “Rudy’s at your Mom and Dad’s. He’s psyched. This is gonna be so fun.”

“Later!” Teri called on a wave.

“Later!” Paula pulled her out of sight.

“Later, guys,” I called as Sam’s arm curved around me again and curled me into him and Memphis.

I tipped my head back to look up at him.

We heard the front door close.

“You don’t have to iron my shirt,” he informed me and I felt my eyes widen in shock at his intimation, not capable of wrapping my head around the thought of Sam standing at an ironing board much less ironing.

“Are you going to do it?”

“Fuck no.”

Well, there you go. I couldn’t wrap my head around it because it wasn’t going to happen.

“Sam, just a reminder, you’re in Indiana,” I told him. “Mom’s hint was not a hint so much as a command. We’re considered a couple. I might be flogged if I allow my man to go out with a wrinkled shirt. I’m jetlagged, feel weird, am about to face a party where everyone is going to not act cool with you so I’m not in the mood to fit being flogged in that schedule.”

He chuckled and through it offered, “How’s this? You get ready but tell me where the ironing board is. I’ll set it up.”

“That’s a plan. The ironing board is in the mudroom off the kitchen.”

“Right,” he muttered, dropped his head, kissed my nose, Memphis yapped and then he let me go and strode from the room, again rubbing Memphis’s head as she panted happily.

My eyes followed.

Then my brain processed through the last ten minutes, the brilliant hour before that and the fuzziness of being in a different time zone and it hit me that he took Memphis with him while giving her head rubs.

Sam liked Memphis.

Awesome.

I smiled then rushed into the bathroom in order to accomplish the formidable task of folding fifty minutes (my mother was not wrong) of getting ready into twenty.

I failed and we were ten minutes late.

They were eating Dad’s brats and Mom’s onion rings, we arrived with Sam carrying bags filled with the gifts, not to mention the fact he was Sam, so no one noticed.

Chapter Fourteen

I Let You Down

Well, if I didn’t already know that the internet was prevalent in our society, not to mention people in a small town talked, the evidence of this would be overwhelming at Mom and Dad’s barbeque considering how many folks “popped by” to welcome me home from vacation like I’d come home from a two year Peace Corps assignment at a location where no communication could be had instead of being in Europe for five weeks.

At first, this upset me. Sam was not a museum display and although a few of the folks who “popped by” were cool, most of them were clearly there for the sole purpose of seeing him, they were star struck and thus acting like big dorks.

Sure, it could be said that just two weeks ago I, too, acted like a big dork when faced with sharing breathing space with Sampson Cooper but just then, I was jetlagged, tired and my mother, father and closest friends were meeting my new boyfriend for the first time and he just happened to be an internationally known and beloved hot guy. Even at the best of times and with a new boyfriend who wasn’t an internationally known and beloved hot guy, this would put me on edge. These weren’t the best of times so I didn’t have the patience for it.

But as time slid by, it penetrated that Sam was a practiced hand at this. He was friendly, accepting and had an ability to make people quickly feel at-ease.

What I didn’t know was if this was taxing for him.

This was because, almost the minute we hit my parents’ deck, after Sam met Dad, Missy, Rudy and our elderly widowed neighbor, Mrs. O’Keefe, Sam deposited me in a chair that was resting against the siding at the back of my parents’ house, bent to me and whispered in my ear, “We gotta be outside, you’re gonna stay right there.”

He lifted his head, looked in my eyes, his were serious so I nodded.

Clearly, if someone was insane enough to shoot at me in my parents’ yard during a barbeque, my position as decreed by Sam gave them a not-so-good shot.

Also clearly, Sam was not taking any chances with someone being insane enough to shoot me at my parents’ barbeque. That said, to actually be a hit man, you had to have some screw loose so obviously caution was a good way to go.

So, holding court in my chair at the back and with Sam called to meet half the town, I hadn’t had a second even to speak with him much less take his pulse.