the hell are you talking about? You’re just jealous you didn’t marry me when you had the chance.”
“We’d have been miserable and you know it. We both had a lot of growing up to do. But you know what? You’ve turned into someone I like quite a bit. Not as much as my husband, but still.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I heard you were down here last night after one in the morning, when you should have been getting some beauty rest.”
“How do you know this?”
“I work in the kitchen. We know everything.”
He handed her the next damn pumpkin. “Yeah, well. I’m not sure it did any good.”
“Stop. You’re gorgeous and wonderful and she’d be an idiot not to like you. Just a thought, though. Tomorrow I’d go back to flannel and hiking boots. Let those bigcity boys get a taste of the real Crider experience, and let this woman see that you’re a rugged outdoorsman.”
“Talk about false advertising.”
“What do you care? It’s only for another couple of days. And you look damn good in those old jeans of yours.”
“Does your husband know you talk like this?”
She grinned at him happily. “He thinks I’m adorable.”
“I’ll have to talk to him about that.”
“Speak of the devil,” Jody said, nodding toward the entrance.
He expected to see Jody’s husband, but it was Carrie standing by the door. Although he wanted to, he didn’t turn. “So, everybody’s talking about me and Carrie, huh?”
“You know the kitchen staff, Sam. Biggest bunch of gossips in the world. Except for maybe housekeeping. Or would that be reservations and front desk?”
“Fine. How about using those extraordinary eavesdropping skills on something useful? Like finding out who’s going to buy this joint and for how much.”
Jody put another pumpkin in place. “Go talk to her. She keeps looking at you.”
“You’re just making shit up now.”
“Am I?”
Sam studied Jody’s face. She was still a beauty. Marriage and having a kid agreed with her. He knew some of that glow was due to working again after such a long hiatus, and that pleased him. He hoped she and Heartly could make a deal. As for her being all-knowing and wise, that was a bunch of bullshit. Nevertheless, he had no qualms about leaving Jody without a second glance.
AND THERE, LIKE A GIFT, was the very man Carrie had been searching for.
He looked good. Skinny black pants, hunter-green button-down shirt all very hotel-ownerish. But his hair, that was all renegade filmmaker. It wasn’t quite as messy as just-rolled-out-of-bed. No, it was more just-finished-making-out-in-the-backseat hair.
As he approached his smile swept away all doubts that she’d screwed up her chance with him. She adjusted her sweater, smoothed her hair, although she’d just checked out the ponytail five minutes ago. She was just doing the mating dance of the Prowling Twentysomething Female, dressed in her finest plumage. Well, the finest she’d brought, which consisted of jeans, a thrift-store cardigan, navy ballerina flats and an estate-sale broach she’d found in East L.A. Sam looked her up and down, and from what Carrie could see, he approved.
“You’re early,” he said as he stepped in close. “That means you can have your pick of pumpkins.”
“How nicely alliterative. Perhaps I’ll pick the prettiest pumpkin.”
He opened his mouth, then let it close with a sigh. “I’m just going to give that one to you. I’m not up to the challenge.”
“Why not?” she asked as she walked with him to the pumpkin patch.
“I’d have to think. That’s probably not gonna happen tonight.”
“Ah. How about answering questions? Up to that?”
“Depends. What’s the question?”
“Who, exactly, will be giving the prize-winning in-room massage?”
Sam put his hand on the small of her back. They were almost at the pumpkins so this was going to be a fleeting moment. As fleeting moments went, this one was a little bit spectacular. Her body broke out in little bumps, her breath hitched and her step slowed to stretch things out to the last second.
Yeah, she definitely wanted to see how Sam looked when he rolled out of bed.
“We have a terrific masseur who comes up to the hotel. His name is Michael, and he’s studied touch therapy for years. He runs a well-known studio and school in Crider. Even if you don’t win, you should try and make time for one of his massages.”
“Oh,” she said, as she looked at the great pile of pumpkins.
“What’s wrong? You sound disappointed.”
With her heart beating fast, her courage at maximum, she turned to look him straight in the eyes. “I was hoping, if I won, that you’d give me my massage.”
His pupils dilated. She’d wager he was blushing as hard as she was, but she didn’t move her gaze an inch.
“I think that could be arranged.”
“What if I don’t win?” she asked.
He smiled. She could tell by the lines at his eyes. By his eyebrows. “It could still be arranged.”
She let out her held breath, then turned back to pumpkin picking. It wasn’t that she was playing it cool. On the contrary. If she’d kept staring at him like that, and if he’d kept looking back at her with the blatant hunger in his hazel eyes, she’d have kissed him. The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass him or herself, not so early in the evening, at least. Besides, now there was this between them. Much stronger than before, when it wasn’t a sure thing. Now, it was all tension and subtext and potential. So delicious she shivered with it.
“People,” he said, just above a whisper.
“What about them?”
“They’re coming. I should … do … things.”
She nodded, still not looking at him, smiling at his failure to be the least bit suave. It was tempting to tease him, to discombobulate him as the conference attendees came rushing into the ballroom, eager to snatch the best seat, the best pumpkin. It was quite possible that Erin was among them, and Carrie should have cared about that as she was supposed to have picked out their seats. Not that they’d discussed the contest arrangements, but between them, it was the way things were done. The first one there secured seating or tickets or places in line. But Carrie didn’t care where they sat. Or if they sat. She wanted to think about the sex, think about Sam. Think about sex with Sam.
“Have you decided?” he asked, startling her with his volume.
