Could anything else come up to delay him? Holt wondered as he finally pulled his truck into the parking lot of the town's only medical facilities. In reality, the facility was nothing more than an old two story antebellum house that had been renovated years ago to accommodate several exam rooms and one office on the lower level. From his understanding, the second level was mainly used for storage.
The setting sun was still in the sky warring with an overactive full moon. Was it just the full moon causing his hormones to go berserk? Holt couldn't help but wonder. He hadn't felt the need to see someone so bad in a ... well ever. It was almost as if he needed to see her or he might not ever calm down again. He had been overly fidgety all day.
After their encounter this morning, he'd gone directly to Bull's Market to settle a domestic disturbance call. First off, it really didn't count as domestic disturbance when both the man and woman were over seventy, did it? But, of course, all it took was a little placating Old Mrs. Bull and she forgave Old man Bull for comparing her wrinkled old legs to that of the chicken that pecked around on the wood front steps into the store.
After that, Wiley Parker—the nephew of the town's most prominent businessman, Billy Joe Parker—called in from the gas station to report some stolen gas. It was well known through town that B.J. Parker was anal when it came to money. That was why Wiley was so distraught over two dollars worth of missing gasoline.
When Holt arrived, it didn't take long for him to figure out that the missing gas was sitting in a tin can with a note from Aunt Josie—Joe Parker's wife—telling Wiley he needed to be sure to deliver that to his mama. It appeared that Sally Mae had called her sister-in-law and asked her to have Wiley bring it home. When Josie had arrived at the station and found no one around, she had taken it upon herself—being the opposite of her husband—to lend a helping hand and fill the can for Wiley to take home to Sally Mae, therefore keeping it simple rather than writing a long explanation.
At nearly 4:00 with Holt almost ready to turn in his badge and begin a day care, he returned to the station preparing to end his shift. That was when the last call came in. It still amazed Holt that there could be a traffic accident in 'downtown' with only two red lights. But when he arrived on the scene, it turned out to be quite an event. Cow Farmer Matthews—as folks called him to keep confusion away from Plant Farmer Matthews his brother—had left his ton truck and trailer sitting on the slight incline outside the feed store. That was when the brakes apparently failed and rolling backward, the truck all but disintegrated the 1970 Bug that was parked in front of the courthouse. The Bug belonging to the Matthews brother's sworn enemy, Hank Johnson, caused quite a commotion.
And finally, Holt had made his way across town with determination in his mind that if she wasn't still at the office, he would be paying her a house call. He had been pleased to find that she was obviously still here after hours. At least he thought she was still here, since there was a light shining from somewhere inside and her car was parked in the lot beside his.
And that meant he would be able to do what he had been wanting—no, needing to do all day. See Samantha Jenkins, M.D.
With that and only that thought in mind, Holt made his way to the front of the clinic.
~~~~~~
After the hectic day Samantha had gone through, her routine four-mile run was just what she needed. The fresh air helped clear the lingering effects of her encounter with Deputy Holt Brennon this morning. It definitely had been a long time since just the mere sight of a man had her breathing changing, her body reacting, and her brain muddling.
Samantha realized now that once Holt Brennon had aimed his gun at her, she hadn't made much of an effort to declare her innocence. Was it because of the close proximity to the Deputy? Was she anticipating his touch?
At those thoughts, Sam's temper began to rise. It wasn't as if she blamed him for his caution, but wasn't that going a little far? And what about her body betraying her like that? Didn't the gun hint of danger? Or was that what did it? The danger of the situation. Yes, that must have been it. Not the gorgeous hunk standing in his tight tan uniform which outlined every bulge of muscle.
Groaning at the path her thoughts were traveling, Sam headed through the back of the clinic to her office where she would change for her last appointment of the day. At the thought of her patient, Sam's mood took a definite turn. How was she going to tell him?
Quickly pulling off her tank top as she entered her office, leaving her in only her sports bra, Sam quickly turned into the connecting bathroom and splashed water on her face trying to clean up. She had just managed to wipe the dripping water when she heard the footsteps. There hadn't been a knock or any other noise so the person must have already been in the clinic. With that realization, Samantha quickly hurried back into her office. Rummaging quietly in a box behind her desk that she hadn't unpacked yet, Sam found what she was looking for. Hearing the steps closing in, she quickly got in place on the other side of the door. When it opened, she would be ready.
Adrenaline pumped through Sam's blood. The footsteps neared her position behind the door, and through the crack between the hinges, she saw the shadow of a large man spill through the doorway. She held her breath. Any slight noise could alert the intruder to her presence.
A droplet of water she must have missed with the towel trickled down her jaw line and under her chin to slowly make its way down the valley between her breasts. She refused to release her death grip on the ball bat long enough to swipe the moisture away.
The footsteps of the intruder slowed.
Sam's heart beat faster.
"Samantha," a rusty baritone spoke her name questioningly. "Are you in here?"
Sam let out a sigh of relief. Whew. It was only her uncle. She lowered the bat and stepped out from behind the door. "God, you're early. You scared me to death."
Her uncle Oscar's bushy white brows drew together over his brown eyes. "Sorry," he said gruffly. "I forgot how nervous you are still about people sneaking up on you. It's just that your aunt called and wants me home early from work tonight."
Sam sighed and walked over to the cabinets that ran along one wall of the combination office and examining room. "You still haven't told her, have you?"
"I haven't told anybody and I'm not going to, either," he said, frowning. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"
"No, I won't. I made a promise to you, and I won't break it. But you're going to have to consider retiring soon. You know that."
"Soon, but not yet," he said. His voice brooked no argument from Sam, who wouldn't have argued anyway. She couldn't stand the thought of how empty her uncle's life would be without the work he'd done for the past thirty years. She knew that if it were her, she would hold on to her career as long as she could.
Sam lifted the needle she'd just finished filling and squirted the tiniest amount of liquid out the tip. She wiggled her brows and smiled her most wicked smile. "You know how much I enjoy sticking you with these things. Now come here and lets get this over with."
A sound in the hallway had them both looking toward the door. "Someone's coming," Oscar said quietly. "I don't want anyone to know I'm here. They might suspect something."
Sam looked around quickly. "Behind the door," she said, pointing at the spot where she'd hid earlier. "I'll get rid of whoever it is." She frowned. "No one should be here this late anyway."
"Just get rid of them," her uncle said as he stepped behind the door and hid.
Sam had just placed the filled needle on the counter and turned back to the open doorway when Officer Holt Brennon stepped into the small room. Her eyes widened. He was taller than she remembered. And much more handsome. His roughly chiseled features gave him the look of someone just a little wild. A bad boy in uniform. Wow.
Of course, she said the first thing that popped into her head. "What are you doing here?" Immediately, she wanted to throw her hands over her face and hide. How could she be so rude to a man she was so interested in? No wonder she could count on one hand--well, to be honest, three fingers--the number of relationships she'd been in that had managed to last more than a week.
"I didn't mean to bother you," he said in his deep baritone. Sam's body reacted instantly to the slight gruffness of his voice. Good God in heaven, she thought. Even the man's voice was tearing her up. Sam decided then and there that she had been without a man for far too long. To be exact, nearly thirty years too long. A woman just wasn't meant to be a virgin for that many years.
He continued, "You forgot to wait for me to return your driver's license."
"I did?" Sam felt adrift on a wave of confusion. One part of her heard the question, and even understood what he was saying, but another part of her couldn't get her mind off of images of this strong, powerfully built man and herself rolling around on a bed while she learned the alternative definition of the word sex firsthand.
Officer Brennon stepped closer, until his body was within a foot of Sam's. "You did," he said, and his breath whispered across her cheek.
Vaguely, she recalled that she was supposed to get rid of Holt. Her uncle was probably wondering what in the world she was doing, wasting time like this. But she didn't want to ask Holt to leave. She'd spent a good portion of the day wondering how long it would be before she'd have another chance to meet the man that had started her blood singing this morning with little more than a touch.
But still, her uncle....
Holt's eyes caught hers in his gaze. She flicked out her tongue to moisten suddenly dry lips. She watched his eyes flicker to her mouth, and she prayed as hard as she could that he would kiss her. He seemed to understand what she wanted. His hands came up to rest on her shoulders, and he slowly pulled her body against his. His mouth began to descend toward hers.
If it weren't for the sound of a scuffing foot, Sam would have let Holt kiss her. Heck, she might have let him anyway if he hadn't also noticed the noise and abruptly released her.
It was a good thing that a person didn't really go weak-kneed when overcome with desire, she thought, and then promptly had to grab on to the nearby examination table when her legs nearly collapsed under her.
"Did you hear that?" he asked, studying the room.
"I didn't hear a thing," she said. "Are you absolutely sure you heard something?"
"I could have sworn...." His brows were furrowed and he was frowning. Sam needed to distract him. Yes, that was exactly what she needed to do.
She quickly straightened. Stepping closer, she brushed her body against his. Immediately, his attention refocused on her. She flattened her hand against his chest and felt hard muscle beneath her palm. "Wow," she said breathlessly.
Holt's slate colored eyes darkened as they locked onto hers. "Lady, you're playing with fire."
She looked up at him through her lashes. Now was not the time to be shy. "I've always liked it hot," she said.