Midnight Rhythms

“I came home walking.” Between bites and sips she told him what had happened to the car, not caring he might think it was pretty stupid to run out of gas.

“You look exhausted,” he observed. “Like someone who hasn’t had a lot of fun lately.”

“I haven’t.” Well, it was the truth. “I work for my grandfather, and he’s getting old and temperamental and I worry about him.” Why was she saying this? It wasn’t her habit to say things like this to strangers.

“What do you do?”

She gave a low laugh. “That depends on who you ask. He’ll tell you I’m his little granddaughter helping him out at the office. He owns a furniture retail store.”

David gave her a considering look. “But you’re running the whole show?”

She nodded. “He pretends he doesn’t know it, but I’m sure he does. Business has been slowing down a lot over the last few years and I don’t know how long we can hold out, but…” She sighed. “It’s like he doesn’t want to see it.”

She hadn’t had a raise in years; the money simply wasn’t there. With more and more big furniture super-stores opening in the area, there was no chance of survival. That was why she was getting her degree: paper qualifications to back up her working experience. She intended to find a job that would offer her good career possibilities and decent money. She had her son to plan for. Kevin was only ten now, but in another eight years he’d be off to college.

She sighed and took another bite of the sandwich. Kevin was spending the summer in Florida with her sister and brother-in-law who ran recreational and educational camps for kids all year around. He was having a wonderful time, and it gave Sam the opportunity to take extra classes at night and not worry about whether she was leaving him alone too much. Still, she missed him and looked forward to the end of summer when he’d be back. She’d have to find an apartment by then, too. Closing her eyes, she rubbed her forehead. She didn’t want to have to think about that now.

“Are you all right?” Concern in the man’s voice.

She glanced up at him, standing near her chair. “I’m fine…just tired.” Her plate was empty, the sandwich finished. She’d practically wolfed it down. “I’ve got to get some sleep, though.”

In order to do that she’d first have to get up from her chair. She wasn’t sure she could summon the strength; she felt as if she weighed a thousand pounds—inert, immovable. She had no choice but to try. Pushing her chair back, she came awkwardly to her feet, felt her body reeling, struggling for balance.

“Easy…” He moved forward, reached out a hand to steady her.

Devoid of energy, her body would not obey. It landed softly and neatly against his, like a rag doll.

She was dizzily conscious of his arm around her back, holding her. Felt her cheek against the warmth of his naked chest.

It felt very nice, very safe.

Safe. She let out a sigh. It had been a long time since she’d felt safe.

Drawing in a slow, deep breath, she smelled the warm, male scent of his skin, felt the chest hair tickling her cheek. This was a dream. Her mind was playing tricks with her again, but she didn’t care. Dreaming was safe.

He had a strong chest, a strong, hard body that was holding her so comfortably, as if she belonged there and she had no worries and all was well with her world. Ah, bliss.

Then she felt something else, something more than comfort. The pounding of her heart, or was it his? The warmth rushing through her body. And the heat of his, against her.

She froze as the realization of what was happening dawned on her, clearing her mind instantly. Fearful embarrassment rushed through her on a wave of adrenalin and she drew back, her legs trembling precariously.

“I’m sorry… I…”

He gave a crooked smile. His hands were on her upper arms, steadying her. “Don’t be. I like goodnight hugs.”

She’d noticed. She stared at him. “I…” She couldn’t even think of what she was trying to say.

“Come on, let me walk you to your room.”

She drew back some more. “No, no. I’m fine, really.” She turned quickly. “Goodnight,” she managed.

“Goodnight, Samantha.” Did she hear amusement in his voice? She wasn’t sure.

Am I nuts? she asked herself as she lay in bed. Should I just be going to sleep with that stranger roaming free in the house? A stranger she had unintentionally managed to get sexually excited. Sam groaned into her pillow. Did she believe what he’d said, that he was Andrew’s cousin?

Well, he did look like Andrew, actually. They both were dark and tall, both had that air of confidence and command. They could have been brothers instead of cousins. Which proved nothing about David’s purity of character and intentions. What was he doing here, anyway? She hadn’t even asked. What was the matter with her? Where was her brain?

She pulled the sheet up over her head. She didn’t care where it was. All she cared about now was some sleep. Deep, restorative sleep.

Birdsong awoke her the next morning. The room was full of sunshine. For a moment she lay basking in it like a lazy cat, then she leaped out of bed. The car! She needed to get gas. She was late!

The man! There was a strange man in the house. Her heart turned over as disturbing memories flashed through her mind. The scent of his skin, the feel of his hard body against her. She took a deep breath. She had no time to think about that now. She didn’t even want to think about it whether she had time or not.

She had a quick shower, dressed in a navy skirt and a white blouse, twisted her hair on top of her head, put some lipstick on, got her things together and rushed to the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee greeted her, and she noticed David in shorts and T-shirt sitting on the deck reading the paper, looking as if he owned the place, looking as if he had all the time in the world. Well, maybe he had. He came to his feet when he caught sight of her, wishing her a good morning. He followed her into the kitchen.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yes, and I apologize for the…er…Victorian virgin routine last night,” she added before she could think about it. She glanced away. “I really didn’t mean to…uh—”

“Neither did I,” he said smoothly. “Breakfast? I’ll do the honors.”

Cool as a cucumber, he was; she had to admire that. She shook her head. “I’ve got to run. I’m late.”

“You’re out of gas,” he reminded her.

She closed her eyes and sighed. “I know.” She poured herself some coffee. “I’m going to take Susan’s car to get some gas, put it in mine, bring back hers, walk back to mine and leave.”

“Much too complicated,” he stated in a no-nonsense tone. “I’ll come with you. That’ll save you the hike back to your car.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Of course I don’t have to.” He put a piece of wholegrain bread in the toaster. “But I will.”

It would be a big help, of course, yet his take-charge attitude irritated her.

“Why?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you always so suspicious?”

She shrugged and sipped the coffee. It was wonderful, very strong and flavorful. “When it comes to men, yes.” Her words surprised her—she wasn’t normally so confrontational with strangers, yet this man had an odd effect on her equilibrium. And she felt defensive about her idiotic move of practically fainting in his arms last night and the embarrassing result.

“Sorry to hear that.” He reached for his cup. “Did you have a bad experience for which all men will pay for ever and ever?”

She stared at him, feeling an odd quiver of fear. Had he guessed? Could he tell?

She thought of Jason, who’d left her stranded with a newborn baby. They’d married right out of high school and Jason had wanted nothing more than for them to have a baby right away. Yet four months after Kevin was born he’d had enough of fatherhood, packed up and left. Three days later he’d died in a construction accident, leaving her a widow at nineteen with a tiny baby to care for. She couldn’t believe what had happened to her, to him. How could he have left her and the baby he’d said he wanted so much? He’d planned and saved, saying he made enough money as a construction worker for them to afford a baby; really, there was no need to wait until she’d finished college and had a job, too. It had taken a long time before she’d ever understood Jason’s true motivation for wanting a baby, and it hadn’t really had anything to do with fatherhood. It’d had everything to do with sabotaging her education because he’d felt threatened by her ambition. Not that he would have ever owned up to such a feeling of inadequacy.

Things had not been what they seemed. Jason had had a side to him she hadn’t known. It terrified her to realize how foolish and naïve she had been to allow herself to be manipulated by him, how little she had understood him, herself.