Chasing Darkness by Danielle Girard Page B

They’d played for over an hour, until Sam
finally put her foot down and got them into bed.
    Nick
had been on his way out. He had never felt awkward with Sam. They had similar
jobs, saw the same things. They’d worked together on cases before Nick had
started coaching Rob’s team. They had the job in common, and they both cared
about Rob and Derek. Maybe Nick cared too much. He had wanted kids of his own,
had thought his wife, Sheila, wanted them too. It hadn’t worked out that way.
Sheila found a man with more money, and she had his kids. Nick always felt
welcome with Derek and Rob, though, like he was helping, but Sam had never
acknowledged it before.
    As
he passed through the kitchen, she had stopped him. She had actually touched
his arm and then pulled her hand back as though he’d been on fire.
    “Thank
you for being so good with them,” she said.
    He’d
never seen anyone look so beautiful. And then she invited him to stay for a cup
of coffee. Just a thank-you, he knew, but he felt the promise of so much more.
    She
was making coffee when the phone rang. He never found out who had called. All
he knew was that her face went ashen when she answered it. She dropped the
coffeepot, and the glass shattered on the floor, the hot liquid burning her
legs. But she didn’t move.
    The
phone still pressed to one cheek, she stood there, shaking her head and
whispering in the smallest voice he’d ever heard from a grown woman, “No, no,
no.” When he finally rose from the table, the phone was dead.
    “What
happened? What’s wrong?”
    But
Sam didn’t speak.
    She’d
just shaken her head and shivered like a child.
    Nick
forgot about getting answers from her. Instead, he cleaned up the broken glass
and took her to her room to change her clothes.
    But
instead of changing, she simply sat on the edge of her bed and cried. The
creamy skin of her neck, the scattered freckles that he imagined covered her
breasts and stomach were all vivid in his mind. He tried to get her to talk
about it, to tell him what was wrong, but she refused.
    “Just
hold me,” she said.
    And
he did. He wrapped his arms around her and she accepted his embrace. He would
have stayed all night—would have stayed a week, if she’d let him. But after
less than ten minutes, she composed herself and showed him to the door. Ten
lousy minutes, and the next time he saw her, it was as though it had never
happened. The wall was back up, and he’d never been able to bring it down
again.
    Not
that there hadn’t been other women. He had dated off and on, but he hadn’t
found anyone that he wanted the way he wanted Sam Chase.
    And
now they saw even more of each other. They went to the movies, took the boys
out to dinner. Friends, she told him. He wondered if there was a more
depressing word in the English language.
    He
moved his head further out the window, wishing for any sort of breeze. Damn, it
was hot.
    Sam
grinned. “Elaine.”
    He
frowned. “What?”
    “Tennyson
heroine—Elaine.” She snatched the pen from his hand and wrote it in. Then,
moving toward him on the seat, she shared the page. “What else?”
    Nick
pointed to another one, watching her from the corner of his eye. Her eyes were
a warm sea green, like the Gulf off the coast of Texas. He watched her frown in
concentration as she focused on a problem, then the grin of excitement when she
got it right.
    Beneath
the hard, independent exterior, Sam hid the excitement of a child. He watched
her reactions with people. Her eyes wide when people were kind, narrow and
stubborn when the odds were stacked against her. What attracted him most was
her passion for the job. He had seen her go after a scumbag and not let up. And
yet another side of her was soft.
    Sometimes
when she looked at him, he would swear that her eyes were scared, maybe even of
him. But before he could understand her, the curtain would fall and he’d be
staring at the strong, hard Sam again.
    Surveillance
made him think about the