arched blond eyebrows lifted high on her forehead. “Hello, Pot?” she said. “This is Kettle. You’re black.”
“Very funny,” he said, acknowledging that he, too, should have long since left town. “But my situation’s a little different.”
“Really?” she asked, and ate a piece of chocolate. “How’s that?”
“Well for one thing,” he told her, with a glance out the windshield at her DOA car, “my car works.”
She frowned at him.
“I told you three months ago,” he said, “that car was on its last legs. It’s a rolling disaster.” He shook his head in disgust. “I told you not to count on that thing.”
She shifted in her seat, unwrapped another chocolate and popped it into her mouth before answering. Like it was some sort of magic confidence pill. But then, hadn’t she always reached for chocolate when she was nervous? Or upset. Or happy. As he recalled, chocolate was a major part of Karen Beckett’s personality.
“Yes, you did,” she said, “but it lasted three months longer than you thought it would, didn’t it?”
“Sure,” he said, nodding, “it lasted until you really needed it. Then it died.”
“Look, Sam…”
Most stubborn, hardheaded female he’d ever met. “For Pete’s sake, Karen,” he blurted, frustration boiling within him. “If I hadn’t come along, what would you have done? You’d have been stuck here. In the middle of nowhere, riding out a hurricane in that worthless piece of automotive engineering.”
She stiffened and got that “queen to peasant” look on her face. “I would have been fine.”
“Yeah, right.” He nodded again, feeling that old familiar flash of irritation sweep through him. Nobody, but nobody could get to him like Karen Beckett. “First thing I noticed when I pulled up to save your butt was how well you were doing.”
Giving him a glare that would have toasted a lesser man, Karen gathered up her purse and chocolates, then reached for the door handle. “Y’know what? If listening to another one of your lectures is the price of a ride…I’d rather walk.”
She threw the passenger door open and a sheet of rain sliced into the car. Instantly, Sam lunged across her lap, grabbed the armrest and yanked, slamming the car door shut again. “Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You did, too,” she countered, and pushed at him until he was back on his own side of the car. “Just now you said—”
“Okay, look,” Sam said loudly, and held up both hands in mock surrender. “This is nuts.”
She sighed heavily, folded her arms across her front and stared straight ahead.
He studied her profile for a long, silent minute, then said, “There’s no reason for us to fight, Karen. We’re not together anymore.” And just hearing those words spoken aloud was enough to tighten a twinge of regret around his heart.
“True,” she said quietly.
A rush of wind pushed at his car and rattled the windows. Rain clattered onto the hood and roof, sounding like a chorus line of Irish folk dancers. Outside, the world was wild and raw with Mother Nature shaking her fists at the people who sometimes forgot just who was in charge around here.
He shifted his gaze to the watery scene beyond the car and tried to remember what was important here. Not the fact that they’d broken up. Not the fact that his heart still ached for wanting her. But the very real threat charging down on them.
He wasn’t worried so much for himself, but now that he had Karen to look out for, he damn sure was going to see to it that she stayed safe.
Pulling in a deep breath, he swiveled his head to look at her. And in the dim, reflected light from the dashboard, she looked worried. Her teeth gnawed at her bottom lip and her gaze was locked on the raging storm. He knew she was wishing she were anywhere but there. And a part of him didn’t blame her in the slightest. But a bigger part of him was glad she was with him. At least this way, he’d know that she was safe.
“So,” he said, just loud enough to be heard above the storm, “we call a temporary truce?”
She turned her head to look at him and seemed to be considering his offer. Finally though, she nodded. “A truce.” Then she held out her right hand to seal their bargain with a shake.
He took her hand in his and the instant their skin brushed together, he felt a blast of electricity shoot up the length of his arm and dazzle his brain. Sam released her quickly, but it wasn’t in time to keep that shock of desire from rocketing around inside his chest and squeezing his heart.
She must have felt it, too, he told himself as he watched her reach for another chocolate. Her fingers trembled as she peeled off the foil, and he knew that what had been between them was far from dead.
But that hardly mattered, did it? She’d made her feelings clear two months ago when she’d walked away from him without so much as a backward glance.
Clearing his throat, he buried old hurts and said instead, “You keep eating chocolate like you do and you’re gonna lose all your teeth before you’re forty.”
“It’ll be worth it,” she muttered.
“And when they’re all gone, how will you eat chocolate then?”
She glanced at him. “Chocolate malts. Through a straw.”
“Hardhead.”
“Bully.”
Sam grinned and watched a little smile tug at one corner of her mouth. Damned if he hadn’t missed their little…discussions. Almost as much as he’d missed…other things.
“Well,” he said, and fired up the engine, “what do you say we find a place to ride this storm out?”
“Ya-hoo, Tonto.”
“Hey,” he protested. “It’s my car, I get to be the Lone Ranger. You’re Kemosabe.”
When her cell phone rang twenty minutes later, Karen was so happy it was working again, she didn’t bother to wonder who might be calling her at 3:00 a.m.
She might have known.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, and threw a glance at Sam. His chuckle was enough to make her grit her teeth.
“Karen, honey—” Her mother’s voice came through despite the static. “Where are you? Someplace safe, I hope.”
“Of course I’m safe,” she replied. Physically, anyway. Emotionally, she wasn’t so sure. Being this close to Sam Paretti again wasn’t a good idea. The memories of their time together were too fresh. Too strong. Too tantalizing.
“How far inland are you?” her mother asked, splintering Karen’s thoughts and dragging her back to the present.
“Actually, I’m on my way.”
“On your way?” her mother asked. “You should have left town hours ago.”
“Traffic was too bad to leave earlier,” she said, telling both her mother and Sam.
“Martha…” Karen’s father, apparently on the extension, spoke up. “Now that we know she’s all right, why don’t we hang up and let her get where she’s going?”
“Thanks, Dad.” She could always count on her father to keep a sane head.
“None of this would have been happening if you hadn’t moved,” her mother pointed out. “You could be safe and sound here in California….”
“Waiting for the Big One with the rest of us,” her father