Page 31 of Sugar Plum Serenade

The tension in his shoulders eased; his eyes softened as he relaxed. “I know very well what this is.”

“Me, too,” she whispered.

“And… thank you for telling me. Maybe I don’t want to hear about it, but you were honest. There aren’t enough honest people in the world.”

Olive dropped her small handbag onto a chair at the nicely laid table. The evening purse was sparkly and looked great with her dress, but was barely big enough to hold her cell phone and the key to the front door. She should’ve left the cell at home; there was nothing that couldn’t wait. With both hands free she walked to Tuck, stood before him, and took his face in her hands. It was a good face. More than handsome — though his face was quite handsome — it was pleasant, expressive, and becoming so familiar the mere sight touched her.

She kissed him. She’d been craving a kiss all day, had thought about it while she worked, while she showered, while she dressed up. For him. The kiss was like taking a sip of cool water when she was parched. Like sitting down after a long day on her feet. More than a relief, it was pure pleasure.

He kissed her as if he felt the same way. Forget ghosts, retail, any person that wasn’t in this room right now. That’s what she did as she fell into him. Forget everything but this.

“I’m not all that hungry,” she said as she pulled away. “Do you have a microwave?”

“Oh, I do,” Tuck said. He pulled her in and kissed her again, deeper, more passionately. He pulled away reluctantly, then set to blowing out all the candles. The fireman in him couldn’t leave them burning, she supposed. In order to speed things along, she helped. In a couple of minutes the screened-in porch was dark, lit only by light streaming in through the kitchen door and one window.

Tuck took her hand. “Tonight I’m prepared,” he said as he led her through the kitchen, down another hallway, and up the stairs to the master bedroom. For a second she wondered if his room was always this neat. Bed made. No dust to be seen. No socks on the floor. Like any of that would’ve made a difference.

“Good.” She was prepared herself, mentally and physically. How could she not be when she’d been thinking about this all day?

He kissed her again, as they stood beside the bed. His hands skimmed her body, learning her curves, arousing her with that touch until everything but this, everything but him, faded away.

She ended the kiss, spun around, and lifted her hair. “Unzip me.” She’d managed getting the zipper up on her own, but it hadn’t been easy.

The zipper was lowered slowly. His fingers brushed her back, down and down and down. When she shrugged off the dress she’d stand before Tuck in nothing but the super sexy black underwear she’d bought just for this occasion.

It was an occasion, but she hesitated before shrugging off the dress.

“Damn, Olive Carson. I never saw you coming.”

“I didn’t expect you, either.”

He unbuttoned his shirt, slipped it off, and tossed it onto the floor. She rotated one shoulder, in preparation. In a second, maybe two, the red dress would be on the floor.

In the distance, she heard her cell ring, the sound faint, muted. Tuck heard it, too. His head swiveled toward the door.

“They can leave a message,” Olive said. Worst case Dawn might’ve gone into labor a little bit early. If that had happened Mike would take her to the hospital, his parents would watch the girls, and she’d join them later. They didn’t need her, not for this.

Olive kicked off her heels and Tuck toed off his boots. In a couple of minutes, maybe less, they’d both be naked. She wanted that, she did, but she also wanted to savor every second. The night could be over too quickly if she wasn’t careful.

It was in her nature to be careful, but maybe she didn’t have to be tonight. She couldn’t put Tuck and caution in the same sentence. He was wild where she was not. But again, not tonight. She reached out and slipped her hands into the waistband of his unzipped jeans.

His phone, which was still in his back pocket, started to ring.

First her phone and now his. This couldn’t be good.

He snagged the phone and answered with a sharp, frustrated, “What!”

The muted, frantic voice she heard on the other end of the call sounded like Mike. Olive couldn’t make out many actual words, but she watched as Tuck’s expression changed. She made out one word very clearly.

“Help.”