Page 71 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

Sam wiped his mouth on a paper napkin and placed it in the center of his plate. Then he opened the wet-wipe packet and washed the remainder of Buddy’s fried chicken grease from his fingers. Buddy’s Famous Fried Chicken might be greasy, but that’s what made it so good. He’d hate to take a cholesterol reading now. Sitting back, he heaved a big sigh and looked across the table to Lucki while she finished the last of her strawberry cheesecake.

How the girl could eat so many sweets and stay so thin was beyond him. He guessed she burned it all off as she worked. Being the athletics director for Harbor Falls’ parks department kept her hopping, he knew, but it was the perfect career choice for Lucki. She’d been the biggest tomboy around town when they were growing up. And, she was the only girl to ever climb to the top of Harbor Falls water tower.

Sam smiled as he watched Lucki lick the last of the strawberry glaze from her fork, and then glanced out the large pane window toward that same water tower. It was something he did quickly, not wanting to think about the shape of Lucki’s tongue and how it had flicked out over the fork. He squirmed in his seat.

Damn. This has to stop.

He studied the water tower. If he looked close enough, he could still see a faint outline of where Lucki had spray-painted in neon pink the fact that Sandra Parker was a slut. He chuckled thinking about it. He was fourteen then, Lucki thirteen, and he was in love with fifteen-year-old Sandra Parker. Lucki hated her.

“What are you chuckling about?”

Sam looked back at Lucki and smiled. “Nothing.”

He didn’t care to drag up the Sandra-slut incident. Lucki could still get fired up about her. If she knew what Sandra had taught him, she’d probably spontaneously combust. She’d always been too protective of their friendship—and of him.

He watched Lucki slide her plate toward the center of the table and glance to her left where the boys were eating, two tables away.

“Spud and J.J. are on their second helpings from the ice cream bar.”

Sam looked their way.

“They’ll burn it off this afternoon.”

He watched J.J. spoon a glob of hot fudge into his mouth.

“The kid has an iron stomach.”

“Just like you.”

“Used to, anyway.”

Sam grinned and turned back to look at her.

“But no different from you.”

“Hey!”

Lucki countered.

“I never ate jalapeno and butterscotch ice cream sundaes!”

Sam’s stomach turned just thinking about it.

“Oh, hell, Lucki. Why did you have to bring that up? I’ll never forget how that tasted coming back up.”

“Didn’t your dog eat some of it, too?”

He nodded.

“Sorry to say.”

“I felt sorrier for the dog than I did for you.”

Grimacing, he added.

“Yeah, poor old Sooner had the runs for a week. If I recall, that was the last time we played Truth or Dare.”

Lucki nodded and glanced off again. He watched her eyes as they played over the crowded restaurant. There was something different about them, something about the color. Or was it?

“You know, J.J. is getting a little out of hand, Sam.”

Immediately, Sam bristled. Lucki had hummed that tune before. He didn’t know why she thought J.J. was out of control.

“He’s fine, Lucki. He’s a normal, twelve-year-old kid.”

“Thirteen.”

“What?”

“He’s thirteen.”

“Oh sure. That’s right. His birthday was last month.”

“And you nearly missed it with that convention you had to go to.”

Sam glanced off, watching the boys.

“Yes. It was work. What could I do?”

Lucki fell silent for a minute.

“Sam, I’ve worked with a lot of kids. J.J. is screaming out for attention. You’ve got to put aside some time for him.”

“I care for him, Lucki. He’s got everything he wants, a roof over his head, food to eat. What more does a boy require?”

“He needs his big brother. He doesn’t have his parents.”

This was ridiculous.

“He has me Lucki. But I also have a medical practice to run. I have to earn a living. I’m doing what I can.”

Lucki crossed her arms in front of her and leaned into the table. After studying him a minute, she continued.

“Okay, why don’t you and I and J.J., Spud too, if his mother says it’s okay, ride out to the lake, rent a boat for the afternoon, and go fishing.”

Sam sat straight up in his chair. He knew what she was doing, and he wouldn’t be manipulated. Raising J.J. was his responsibility and he would do it as he saw fit.

“I have medical records to go over this afternoon and some research I want to do for a patient. I can’t, not this afternoon. Besides, I’m not too sure J.J. needs to go anywhere special today.”

Throwing back her shoulders, Lucki sat up and picked up her iced tea glass. Halfway to her mouth she stopped, the glass frozen in mid-air.

“Good. You and J.J. need to talk about what happened at church.”

“We already did on the way here. I told him how inappropriate his comments were in front of the Reverend.”

“They were inappropriate anywhere.”

“Okay, fine.”

“So, what is his punishment?”

“I didn’t punish him.”

“What?”

“No.”

“What about the BB thing? Are you going to do anything about that?”

Sam felt his cheeks heat up. He wasn’t about to open that can of worms. It was hard enough watching her parade around her back yard yesterday in the damned strap of fabric she called a bathing suit, and then having to act in a professional manner when she’d come to him to remove the BB—not to mention when J.J. blurted the whole thing not less than an hour earlier to half the congregation. But to sit there, across from her, when he knew at some point she would ask him about that comment J.J. made—about him taking a cold shower—it was almost more than he could stand.

What was happening to him, anyway?

He swallowed. Hard.

“I’m handling the BB thing.”

“How?”

“I’m going to talk to him.”

“Talk to him? Is that all? Don’t you think you should maybe take the gun away from him or something?”

Her voice had pitched higher and she was leaning forward again.

Sam stood and motioned to J.J. Spud was already heading toward his mother. Then he turned back to Lucki.

“I’m handling it, Lucki. Me. My problem. I’ll handle it.”

She rose and her tall frame nearly matched his. Looking him square in the eyes, she waited a second or two longer before speaking. “Sam,”

she began softly.

“you better handle it because the problem will only get worse.”

Blue. Her eyes were definitely bluer. Colored contacts?

“You understand me, Sam? Are you listening to what I’m saying?”

Sam shook himself and, after a minute, nodded.

“Okay, Lucki. I’m listening. I’ll handle it.”

She threw a half-cocked smile his way then shook her head. Turning, she walked toward the restaurant’s exit and he caught himself watching the sway of her hips as she left. Then it dawned on him—when had Lucki Stevenson, the tomboy next door, grown hips?

The second question that entered his mind startled him more than the first. He was twenty-nine years old; Lucki was twenty-eight. She’d obviously grown hips long ago. Why was he just now noticing? And why was their tantalizing sway rocking him to the core?

****

“Hey, Lucki, have you checked on that pitching machine yet? Guy Powers said it was throwing a little cockeyed the other night.”

Lucki tossed a bag of baseball equipment on the floor next to her desk then turned to Rick Littleton, Harbor Falls’ parks director.

“I haven’t had a chance yet this morning,”

she shouted out over the hum of the air conditioner.

“I called the company we bought it from Friday afternoon, though. The rep there said he didn’t think we needed a new wheel, just that it needed some minor adjustments. He told me what to do. I plan to go out to the ball field before noon and take a look at it.”

Rick scratched his balding head then replaced his Atlanta Braves ball cap.

“Whatever you say. If you need any help, just holler.”

Lucki nodded at Rick’s back as he retreated from the cubicle she called an office. It was nothing more than an old supply closet with a desk. On the walls hung various sports equipment and tacked-up reminders and notices of upcoming athletic events. Sign-up posters for fall soccer were already pinned to her bulletin board on the inside of her door.

“Pinky?”

Lucki called out the office secretary’s name, whose desk sat around the corner from her cubicle. They all shared Pinky—she, Rick, and Matt Farmer. Matt was in charge of the city swimming pools, picnic grounds, and the playground equipment at the three city parks. Lucki was in charge of all athletics in season—soccer, baseball and fast-pitch softball, basketball, football, wrestling, and even cheerleading, which she detested. If she ever had a daughter who picked up a pompon, she’d disown her.

Rick, of course, oversaw everything. Pinky kept the office running. She was an absolute necessity to their sanity.

Besides the various umpires, referees, lifeguards, grounds maintenance, and sundry others employed by the parks department, the only other semi-full-time employee was Hazel Green. She ran the afterschool/summer care program. During the summer months, Lucki took the older kids off her hands and involved them in athletic activities.

“Pinky?”

“What?”

“Got a second?”

Lucki waited. She sat behind her desk and rummaged through some paperwork. Where was that damned accident report from the other night? She had to call the insurance company.

“Pinky?”

“I said what!”

This time the voice was in her doorway.

Lucki glanced up at the neon rose-colored tank top that adorned Pinky’s ample chest. Her gaze slid down to the apple green pants stretched over Pinky’s skinny legs. She looked like a lollipop.

“Nice outfit.”

“Like it? I decided over the weekend to spice up my image.”

Lucki rose, trying not to wrinkle her nose.

“That ought to do it. Have you done something different with your hair? Oh, and the ladybug earrings really add to the effect.”

Pinky’s hand went to her poofed, highlighted ponytail. “Really?”

“Well, sort of. Pinky, why are you doing this?”

Pinky’s face fell. Lucki rounded her desk.

“You don’t like it.”

“I like it just fine, Pinky, it’s just that I thought your other image was okay.”

She frowned.

“My other image was boring. Plain. Not exciting.”

Lucki eyed her friend. Pinky was an attractive woman, not yet twenty-five, good figure, great hooters as she’d heard the maintenance men attest on more than one occasion. It just didn’t seem that she could keep a man interested long.

“Who says you’re not exciting?”

“Me. I do.”

She sidled one hip onto the corner of Lucki’s desk.

“If I was exciting, I’d have a date for the annual picnic by now.”

Ah-ha! The plot thickens.

“Oh, pooh, Pinky. You and I can go together. You don’t need a date.”

Pinky grimaced.

“No offense, Lucki, but I really don’t want to run the two-man, cheek-to-cheek egg race with you.”

Lucki blew out a breath and leaned back on the desk. The picnic. She’d all but forgotten about it. Oh, hell.

“Well, can’t say as I blame you. I’m really not sure I can make it anyway.”

Rising, she turned back to her desk, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.

“You don’t happen to know where that insurance paper on the Hardin kid is, do you? I thought I filled it out last Friday and put it on my desk. I have to call the insurance company this morning.”

“Oh, they already called. I found the paper and faxed it to them. Everything seems all right. By the way, it was just a broken arm.”

Good. Lucki breathed a sigh of relief. That night at the field, they were afraid he’d broken a shoulder.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“About the picnic, Lucki—”

“What about the picnic?”

Lucki turned at the familiar male voice as Matt Farmer entered her cubicle. It suddenly seemed all the air was sucked out of the room.

“Lucki’s not going to the picnic,”

Pinky offered.

“She has to.”

Matt turned a smile her way.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going, Pinky.”

Did I.

“I just said you could go with me.”

“No, you didn’t. You said you weren’t going.”

“She’s going, Pinky. She’s an employee. An administrator. She has to be there.”

Matt stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Right, Lucki?”

Sometimes Matt Farmer made her want to throw up. He could be a nice person but most of the time he stood too close. He was a smiler. All teeth and hair. He was a winker and she disliked winkers. A touchy-feeling kind of guy. Touchy-feely guys made her uncomfortable. He smelled too much of Stetson aftershave. Way too much. And she enormously disliked the fact that he was, well, that he was always coming on to her, in a nice sort of way.

Too nice. So nice, in fact, that it was damned difficult to tell him to go to hell. To tell him to give her some space. To tell him that he was definitely barking up the wrong tree.

He wasn’t her type. Period.

She just didn’t have the heart to tell him straight off that he was a great guy to work with, but on a personal level, he made her queasy and half-sick to her stomach.

“I’ll be there, Matt.”

“Good!”

He put his arm around her shoulder. Lucki stifled a shiver.

“You know,”

he bent to whisper in her ear.

“I’d bet we’d make a good team in that cheek-to-cheek egg race. Or possibly the chest-to-chest balloon pass. Or even the three-legged relay. What do you think?”

Lucki cleared her throat and stepped back. Matt’s arm fell to her waist. Lucki nervously glanced at Pinky who was grimacing for her. She knew how Lucki felt about Matt. Pinky felt the same way.

“Well, actually, Matt...”

she managed to look him square in the eyes.

“actually, I...I already have a partner. A date. My... My boyfriend.”

Matt stepped back and pulled his arm away.

“Oh! Well, I understand, Lucki. I just assumed that you were still unattached.”

Lucki glanced from Matt to Pinky then swallowed the dry lump in her throat. Unattached. That’s exactly what she was. And would stay. Except for the weekend of the Fourth of July Harbor Falls Parks Department Annual Employee Picnic.

Ugh.

“Uh, no, Matt. Actually, I’m not.”

Lucki didn’t know why she felt like a heel. Obviously lying had accomplished the one thing she’d been putting off for quite some time now—putting Matt at a distance. There was just one problem. Now she really had to go to the picnic. And she really had to show up there with a date.

****

Later that afternoon Lucki swerved her truck into a parking space in front of Sam’s office. She glanced left to his shiny new, red Corvette. The doctor’s life must not be too shabby, she thought as she slammed the door to her four-year-old, mid-sized, Chevy pick-up. Sam’s practice obviously was taking off.

Actually, Sam’s return to Harbor Falls to open up a general medical practice was a godsend. There wasn’t another doctor within a thirty-mile radius, unless you went into Harbor Falls. Most folks in the surrounding area were glad to throw their business Sam’s way. And she knew it was all Sam could do to keep his head above water. He was even thinking of recruiting another doctor to join him, and it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea. It would definitely give him more time with J.J.

First chance she got, she was going to mention it to him. Again.

Pushing open the clinic door, Lucki entered and glanced about the waiting room. Muffled coughs, an occasional moan, and an antiseptic smell greeted her. As usual, there was a full house and she’d forgotten to make an appointment. She approached the window where one of her former classmates sat—the woman who was Sam’s receptionist, and who knew everyone and everything that happened in Harbor Falls. To say Kathleen Conner was the town gossip, was an understatement. But she was efficient as hell, Sam had told Lucki. And at least, she was discriminate when it came to his patients. Her lips were sealed there.

So, Lucki felt certain the news of her recent, um, injury, wouldn’t be broadcast all over Harbor Falls. Unless, of course, J.J. and Spud hadn’t already seen to that.

“Kathleen,”

Lucki began as she leaned through the window.

“does Sam have any time to see me in the next hour or so?”

Kathleen glanced up.

“Hi, Lucki. Well, let’s see...”

She looked down at the appointment calendar.

“It looks like he might be able to work you in after six, if you want to hang around, or come back.”

Six. Lucki glanced at her watch. Four-thirty. She blew out a breath.

“I don’t know, Kathleen. Maybe I’ll just wait until—”

The door behind Kathleen burst open.

“Kathleen, I’ll see Mrs. Madison now.”

A harried Sam lifted his gaze from his handful of manila folders.

“Lucki, hi!”

He stepped on into the receptionist’s area.

“Did you need to see me?”

Lucki thought his demeanor suddenly brightened.

“Well, you know, yes. About that, thing that happened to me the other day?”

“Oh yes.”

Sam glanced to Kathleen.

“Do we have any openings?”

“I just told her, not until after six.”

Sam lifted his gaze back to Lucki.

“That okay with you?”

Lucki shrugged.

“I guess. Either that or maybe I could run over later to your—”

“No! Uh... I mean, why don’t you come back here at six,”

he brusquely interrupted.

“I’ll wait.”

Lucki studied Sam, puzzled at the about-face. He looked almost startled. Nervously, he shuffled the papers in his hand as he backed up, bumping into the waiting room door. You’d have thought she was suggesting they have sex right there on Kathleen’s desk! With her watching!

“Mrs. Madison, you may come on back now.”

Glancing once more to Lucki, his gaze darting hither and yon, Sam headed without another word toward the hall which held the two examination rooms.

What in the world was wrong with him?

****

Ninety minutes later Sam blew out a lengthy breath as he handed over the last medical folder for the day to Kathleen. It had been a long, exhausting day. He was going to have to get someone else in here to help him. But that meant expanding the clinic. Another office, more examination rooms, a nurse. It was a lot to think about, but it was going to have to be done eventually. He couldn’t handle this busy practice by himself for much longer.

Not if he wanted to have any kind of life outside of the clinic. And Lucki was right, J.J. needed him.

“Lucki.”

He said her name aloud. Damn, but she’d been haunting him day and night for days now.

“She’s supposed to be here any minute.”

Sam turned and looked at Kathleen’s back while she finished up at her desk. “What?”

“Lucki will be here soon. It’s almost six.”

His eyes closed and all he could see was Lucki bent over his kitchen table with that damned bathing suit on. What little there was of it, anyway.

“I’d almost forgotten.”

“There’s her truck now.”

Sam braced himself. The only reason he didn’t want Lucki coming over to his house later tonight was because, in a non-professional setting, he didn’t know if he could trust his male libido. He needed a clinical setting. Professional. Antiseptic. Cold.

He wished he’d jacked up the air-conditioning a few minutes ago.

He’s just have to check her out as quickly as possible and then get her the hell out of his examination room. He’d thought too often over the past two days what the smooth skin of her shapely little behind had felt like under his fingertips.

The clinic door burst open.

“Wow, this sure looks a lot calmer that an hour and a half ago.”

Lucki’s smile lit up the room, and Sam couldn’t help but get caught up in it. She always made him laugh, made him feel good. Always had.

“Yes, and it’s been one helluva day. Come on back, Lucki.”

He motioned to her and she followed him through the open door back to the examination room.

He left the door partially ajar. For his own sake, not hers.

“Why don’t you just drop your jeans a bit and let me take a look.”

Lucki’s hands immediately went to her zipper and Sam had to turn away, pretending to write something, anything, on her chart so he wouldn’t have the image of Lucki hitching those tight jeans down over her hips haunting him later tonight as well.

“Okay.”

Pulling on his doctor’s facade, he turned around as Lucki was just bending over the examination table. Standing there a moment, he gulped back a lump in his throat as he caught sight of her rounded buns just above the denim waistband. Shaking himself, he stepped forward and pulled back the bandage to give her a quick look.

“Is this sore?”

He glanced to her face, trying to avoid her derriere.

“A little.”

“It’s healing nicely. I’m going to clean it up, put an antibiotic cream on it and change the bandage. Just a minute.”

He turned back to the table that held some of his supplies and quietly exhaled. He had to get over this. This was Lucki. His childhood friend. Get a grip! This was not some woman he was interested in pawing and getting to know better. It is Lucki! Gathering his wits about him, he turned back to her, willing himself to get through this.

And you are a professional medical doctor, Sam Kirk. Act like it.

In short order, he had fixed her up again.

“The stitches might pull and itch for a few days, but it looks pretty good. You’ll be good as new in no time.”

He shifted his gaze first right, then left, and tried to keep his breathing even.

Lucki stood and pulled up her jeans, briskly.

“Good. I have things to do. Do you realize how difficult it is to play with my kids with stitches in my butt? I’m afraid I’m going to rip them out or something.”

Sam studied her face, relieved that her jeans were all the way on again.

“I think you should be careful but it’s probably unlikely that that will happen.”

“I am being careful. It’s just damned hard explaining to very active adolescents that you can’t play volleyball because you got shot in the buns with a BB gun.”

Sam started to grin, and then thought better of it. Be professional. He really didn’t want to get into any sort of conversation with Lucki about J.J. and the BB gun. Or what led to that particular incident.

“Are you heading home?”

Lucki watched his face.

“I have a little more work to do here, then I will.”

He opened the door and waited for her to go through it.

“Do you want me to check on J.J. for you? It’s getting late. He’s been alone for hours. Sam, you’re really going to have to get a handle on this. Teenage boys can get into an awful lot of trouble left to their own devices for that long a time period.”

Sam didn’t want to get into that conversation, either. It wasn’t that he disagreed with her, he just didn’t need the constant reminder. Sighing, he said.

“I’m trying to handle it, Lucki. I’m going to find someone—”

A commotion erupted in the waiting room. Kathleen’s high-pitched voice mingled with an angry male voice. Both Lucki and Sam hurried toward the front of the clinic.

A red-faced Lamar Thompson stood there sparring with an angry Kathleen.

“I’ve told you, he’s with a patient,”

she reiterated. Her nearly two-hundred-pound body blocked the doorway.

“He’ll be out in a minute!”

“I’m here, Kathleen.”

Sam brushed past her and she stepped aside.

“Lamar, what’s wrong. Is there an emergency?”

“You’re damned tootin’ there’s an emergency! I’m gonna break a BB gun over somebody’s damn head!”