Page 82 of Last Mile

me a lazy smile. “Part of me wants to forgo breakfast and a shower

to just stay out here and fuck all day.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

She placed her palm on my chest and pushed me back. “Feed

me first and we’ll talk about fucking the rest of the day.”

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9780451474933_LastMile_i-xii_1-308_1P.indd 214 12/12/15 11:17 AMLAST MILE

“What if you ate some of the food off me?”

Samantha rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me anyway.”

Her expression turned serious. “Not yet, but I have a feeling

you’re going to make me fall in love with you.”

My heart beat thundered loudly in my chest at her response.

While I had jokingly mentioned love to Samantha, I had felt so

drawn to her over the last few weeks. She was the first thing I thought

of in the morning as well as when I went to sleep. Did that mean I

loved her? I’d never been in love before, and now I couldn’t imagine being with any other woman but her. With the smell of her on my fingers and on my tongue, along with her supremely gorgeous body tucked close against me, I turned on the ATV and revved the motor.

Thankfully, Samantha was behind me, because I knew there was a ridiculous smile on my face the entire way home. Playing the part of a gentleman, I drove Samantha all the way out of the woods, rather than stopping where we’d found the ATV.

When we pulled into my driveway, people were ambling around the compound as they slowly came back to life from last night’s partying. Probably some of them hadn’t gone to bed all night and had toasted the sunrise with stale beer. I know I had done that more than a few times myself.

I led Samantha up the front walk and onto the porch. When we got inside, Samantha headed to the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for something for breakfast.”

“Sorry, babe, but you’re not going to find anything edible in there.”

She cocked her head at me. “You have a perfectly functional kitchen with no food?”

“I could lie and say I haven’t been to the store, or I could tell the truth, which would be my mother spoils me by cooking all my meals.”

Samantha’s eyes widened. “You’re joking.”

“Sadly no. She used to cook three meals a day for us Malloy boys, but with Rev and Deacon married off, it’s just me.”

After giving a low whistle, Samantha said, “Doesn’t your mother

know she’s ruining you for any woman? Please tell me she doesn’t

do your laundry, too.”

I scowled at her. “No, smart- ass, I manage to do my own laundry. Mama Liz just loves to cook, so it gives her something to do since she’s retired.”