Rainshadow Road (Friday Harbor #2)(74)
“It’s late, Lucy. You need to sleep.”
“You want me,” she had crooned. “You do. I can tell.” She had loosened the knot of his silk tie, and had used it to pull his head down to hers. After a smoldering kiss, she had succeeded in drawing the tie free of his collar, and she had given it to him triumphantly. “Do something wicked,” she said. “Tie me up with this. I dare you.” She lifted her good leg and wrapped it around him. “Unless you’re too tired.”
“I would be dead before I was too tired for that,” Sam had informed her, and he’d kept her busy well into the night.
Apparently after those pleasurable exertions, the temptation of sleep had overridden Sam’s rule about never staying all night with a woman.
Lucy let her gaze travel over the long, powerful limbs, the sleek expanse of his back and shoulders, the tempting disarray of his hair. His face looked younger in sleep, his mouth relaxed, the thick crescents of his lashes flickering infinitesimally as dream images chased through his mind. Seeing the faint notch gather between his brows, Lucy couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to smooth it with a gentle fingertip.
Sam awakened with a quiet sound, disoriented and drowsy. “Lucy,” he said in a sleep-roughened voice, reflexively reaching out to gather her close. She snuggled against him, nuzzling into the light mat of hair on his chest.
But in the next moment, she felt the jolt of alarm that went through him.
“What … where…” Sam’s head shot up, and his breath stopped as he recognized his surroundings. “Jesus,” she heard him mutter. He sprang out of bed as if it had just burst into flames.
“What’s the matter?” Lucy asked, startled by his reaction.
Sam stared at her with an expression of near-horror that she found distinctly unflattering. “I never went home last night. I slept here.”
“It’s okay. Renfield’s at the kennel. Holly is with Mark and Maggie. Nothing to worry about.”
But Sam had started to snatch up his discarded clothes. “Why did you let me fall asleep?”
“I fell asleep too,” Lucy said defensively. “And I wouldn’t have woken you up anyway—you were exhausted, and I didn’t mind sharing the bed, so—”
“I mind,” Sam said forcefully. “I don’t do this. I don’t stay until morning.”
“What are you, a vampire? It’s no big deal, Sam. It means nothing.”
But he wasn’t listening to her. He took his clothes into the bathroom, and in a minute she heard the shower running.
* * *
“… and then he just took off,” Lucy said to Justine and Zoë later that morning, “like a scalded dog. He barely said a word to me on the way out. I couldn’t tell whether he was pissed off or scared shitless, or both. Probably both.”
After Sam had left, Lucy had gone to the inn to see her friends. The three of them sat in the kitchen with mugs of coffee. Lucy wasn’t the only one with problems. Zoë’s usual sunny disposition was dampened with worry about her grandmother, who was having health problems. Justine had just broken up with Duane, and although she was trying to be nonchalant, it was clear that the situation was difficult for her.
When Lucy had asked what had caused the rift between them, Justine had said evasively, “I, er … accidentally scared him.”
“How? Did you have to take a pregnancy test or something?”
“God, no.” Justine waved her hand in an impatient gesture. “I don’t want to talk about my problems. Your problems are way more interesting.”
After telling them about Sam’s behavior, Lucy leaned her chin in her hand and asked with a scowl, “Why would someone freak out over spending one night in a bed? Why is it that Sam has no problem ha**ng s*x with me, but the idea of literally sleeping with me sends him into a tailspin?”
“Think about what a bed is,” Justine said. “The place where you sleep is where you are most vulnerable. You’re helpless. You’re unconscious. So when two people sleep in one bed in that ultimate state of vulnerability, it’s an enormous act of trust. It’s a different kind of closeness than sex—but just as powerful.”
“And Sam won’t let himself be close to anyone,” Lucy said, swallowing against the needling pain in her throat. “It’s too dangerous for him. Because he and his brothers and sister were hurt repeatedly by the people who were supposed to love them the most.”
Justine nodded. “Our parents teach us how to have relationships. They show us how it’s done. Kind of hard to rewire yourself after that.”
“Maybe you could talk to Sam,” Zoë suggested, laying her hand on Lucy’s tense arm. “Sometimes if you bring something out into the open—”
“No. I promised myself I wouldn’t try to change him or fix him. Sam’s responsible for his own problems. And I’m responsible for mine.” Lucy wasn’t aware of the tears that had slid down her cheeks until Justine handed her a napkin. Sniffling, sighing, she blew her nose and told them about having been awarded the art center grant.
“You’re going to take it, right?” Justine asked.
“Yes. I’m leaving a few days after Alice’s wedding.”
“When are you going to tell Sam?”
Lisa Kleypas's Books
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