Page 78 of Perfectly Matched: Harbor Falls Romance Collection

Monday came and went all too quickly. Lucki avoided Sam like the plague. She purposely waited until the last minute before picking up J.J. that morning, impatiently beeping her horn to summon him from the house, then took off before Sam could stop her. Glancing backward in her rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of his frown as he’d stepped out the back door and watched her exit the drive.

Oh, Lord, what was she going to do?

The entire day, thankfully, was spent preparing for the picnic, so she had little time to think. Little time to dwell on the subject.

Until Pinky interjected.

“So, Lucki,”

she began.

“you all ready for tomorrow?”

Lucki grimaced internally.

“I mean,”

Pinky went on.

“you did find a date, didn’t you? Whatever happened to that boyfriend you were supposed to have, anyway?”

Lucki groaned. God, she hated lying. Even little white ones.

“He got a new job and moved out of town.”

“Oh, gee, Lucki. That’s too bad.”

She waved it off.

“Not a problem. It wasn’t that serious a relationship anyway.”

The door behind her squeaked open and Lucki heard the din of kids playing in the rec room across the hall. A hand snaked around her waist and she cringed. God.

“So, does that mean there’s hope for me still?”

Matt Farmer’s breath lanced across her cheek.

Lucki sidestepped until his arm fell from her waist. She turned, smiled sweetly, and returned in her best Southern belle voice.

“Matt, dear, I’m afraid there’s no hope for you.”

He feigned hurt and pouted. Lucki stifled a gag.

He stepped forward.

“But, Lucki, if you’re hanging loose as a goose now, well then, couldn’t you just consider a movie or dinner sometime? Or, hey, I know,”

he snapped his fingers.

“I’ll take you to the picnic!”

Quickly, Lucki shook her head and braced her arms in an attempt to keep him from coming closer. “Matt,”

she began.

“you must have heard me say that my boyfriend had moved, but what you don’t know is that I do have a date for tomorrow. So, you see, I’ll have to decline.”

Again, Matt pouted. It wasn’t cute.

After a moment, he sighed heavily and perched his hands on either hip.

“I’m never gonna have a chance with you, am I Lucki?”

It was all she could do not to shout an emphatic, “No!”

but she didn’t. She kept her cool.

“Matt, I think there is another woman out there who would love to be with you. But that woman isn’t me, I’m sorry to say.”

“Oh, yeah, and who may I ask?”

Lucki chewed on her lip and glanced to her left. Pinky sat sawing an emery board across her nail tips. Oh, no. She couldn’t do that to Pinky, could she?

Pinky glanced up, cracked her gum, and smiled.

Swallowing, Lucki turned back to Matt.

“Matt, I’m sure Pinky would love to go with you tomorrow.”

She continued quickly.

“And I know for a fact she doesn’t have a date, and she’s unencumbered as they say at the moment, and she looks great in that neon orange tank top, doesn’t she? And what do you think about the new hairstyle? Gee, I think it is quite becoming don’t you? So....”

“Whoa!”

Pinky shot up off the chair.

“Pinky?”

Matt turned to her with a renewed gleam in his eye.

Lucki raced for the door and waved.

“Bye you two! I’m off. Got a zillion things to do today. Hey Pink, if I don’t catch you later this afternoon, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Then she exited faster than a hockey puck on hard ice.

****

For the third time that day, Sam dropped a patient’s folder and sent the contents flying.

“Damnation, Sam!”

Kathleen whispered as she pulled him into his office.

“What the heck has gotten into you?”

Shaking his head, Sam replied.

“Hell if I know, Kathleen.”

But he knew. He knew better than anything.

He was in love.

With Lucki.

And tomorrow, he was going to spend the entire day with her.

“I hear the door.”

Kathleen was gone in a flash. Next patient, obviously. Puzzled, Sam stepped out into the hall and scooped up the file contents. He’d thought they were finished for the day.

“But I tell you, Kathleen,”

the saccharin sweet voice began.

“I do have an appointment. I called last Thursday, and you told me to come Monday, at four-fifteen. That’s today, right? And see, I have it written right down here in my little appointment calendar.”

Sam knew that voice anywhere. And he knew sure as tootin’ the person behind that voice was lying through her teeth. He started into the reception area, and then thought better of it. Kathleen could handle the likes of Missy Hawkins.

And she did. She quite eloquently explained the procedure of scheduling appointments in an orderly physician’s office and why it was impossible that she, Kathleen Roberts, top of her class in medical secretarial school, had made a mistake.

Missy Hawkins didn’t have an appointment.

Missy Hawkins wanted something.

Groaning, Sam frowned and slipped out the back door.

****

Lucki hadn’t slept a wink. She’d tossed and turned most of the night. Laid awake staring at the ceiling for the remainder. Tomorrow was S-Day. Sam day. She and Sam. Together. For the entire day. Together. Doing crazy stuff like balloon chest passing and such. Together.

Oh, geez....

And S-Day was here.

Now.

And it was nearly time for them to go.

Why in the hell was her stomach all jittery and nervous? This was Sam, for Pete’s sake! Sam! The boy next door! Her Sam. Her best cotton-pickin’ friend since childhood.

This was ridiculous.

Lucki shook off a feeling of foreboding. Things were going to go fine. She and Sam would have a wonderful time. Just like old times. He promised there would be none of that stupid couple stuff. None of that, let’s be an item stuff that he’d been spouting for the past few days. No. It was just Sam.

Sam. Her friend.

Not Sam, The Heartbreaker.

Lucki took a deep breath and glanced out her kitchen window toward his house. Where in the heck was he?

She exhaled. Deep.

Everything was going to be all right.

What was she so worried about? Nothing was going to happen. She and Sam would go, have a wonderful time, maybe even win some of the races, and then they would go home. End of day. End of story. There was absolutely nothing for her to worry about.

Except—Sam was little late.

Lucki glanced again to the kitchen clock. He was more than a little late. He was a lot late!

Abruptly, the doorbell chimed, and Lucki jumped. Clutching at her chest to stop her quaking heart, she started for the door.

“Geez, Lucki. You’d think you were seventeen again and waiting for your prom date.”

A momentary panic swept over her.

Naw....

As she laid her hand on the doorknob, she visualized Sam’s smiling face looking back at her.

She put on her best smile.

She told herself that history would not repeat itself here.

She opened the door.

Reverend Peters’ grinning face stared back at her. Reverend Peters, dressed in a t-shirt and running shorts and Nikes. Smiling. And reaching out his hand to her.

“Lucinda? How are you this morning?”

Lucki swallowed. No. This wasn’t happening.

“I’m fine, Reverend. What can I do for you?”

she squeaked out.

A puzzled look crossed his face.

“Do for me? Oh, nothing. Did Sam not call you?”

Sam. Oh, God. Lucki shook her head.

“No, Reverend, Sam did not call me.”

He stepped closer.

“I’m sure in all the confusion he forgot. But no matter, I’ll explain on the way to the picnic. Are you ready?”

“Ready?”

“Yes, Lucinda. For the picnic.”

Lucki mentally got a grip. No. No. No. This wasn’t happening.

“The picnic?”

The good Reverend paused before speaking again.

“Lucki, Sam couldn’t make it. Was called away on an emergency. I happened to see him, was available this afternoon, and he asked me to take his place. He assured me that you would understand. I know, I’m not the most athletic person in the world, but I’m game and don’t mind making a fool out of myself. Sam said you just needed a partner, really, just a technicality. So, Lucki, I’m your man.”

My man.

But it was the wrong man.

Speechless, she just stood there.

What could she say?

She had no option. She had to go. And at least Reverend Peters was a warm body who could be her partner.

But inside, she was fuming. Just fuming.

Who in the hell did Sam Kirk think he was anyway?

“Emergency, huh?”

were the first words that popped out of her mouth.

She stepped out on the porch and walked briskly toward the steps.

“Why, yes, Lucinda. One of his patients. The Hawkins girl. Some type of an emergency.”

Lucki stopped cold at the edge of the porch.

The next time she saw Sam Kirk, she was going to kill him.

Kill. Him. Dead.

****

“Missy, I’m telling you, you don’t have Malaria.”

“But Sam...”

Missy lifted a weak hand to her mouth and coughed delicately.

“I read the symptoms in the medical book, and I know I have Malaria.”

“You read too much. I promise you. You don’t have Malaria.”

Missy thrust herself into a coughing jag.

“Well, then it must be Tuberculosis.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. What in the hell was wrong with him? When Reverend Peters had shown up on his doorstep, urging him to go see Missy, he should have known, right then and there, that this was one of Missy’s ploys to get his attention.

But Reverend Peters had looked concerned. Said Missy was in bad shape. And you think you can believe a preacher, right? Of course, Missy could snow a preacher into taking a peek into Hell, if she wanted. She was that persuasive.

“Don’t joke about something like that, Missy. You don’t have Tuberculosis.”

“But how do you know for sure?”

She batted both eyelids expertly. God, what had he ever seen in those fake lashes?

“We do tests to know for sure. But, Missy, the odds of you having Tuberculosis are, well, let’s just say they are mighty slim. You’ve got the flu, I suspect. Your common, ordinary, garden variety flu. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Swine flu? Oh. My. God!”

Oh hell.

“No, Missy. You do not have Swine flu. I assure you of that fact.”

He doubted she even had the flu at all, had probably heated her thermometer up on a light bulb or something.

Missy slunk down deeper into her covers, throwing her arms over her head.

“Oh, Sam...”

He stood. He knew that bedroom look.

“Stop it, Missy.”

“Sam... Could it be Diphtheria?”

Closing his eyes at the absurdity of her question, Sam vigorously shook his head. He leaned closer and looked deliberately into her eyes.

“Missy, you don’t have Diphtheria, Malaria, or Tuberculosis. You have the flu.”

If that, he thought. He suspected she had more than the garden variety case of sexual deprivation. She wanted it. Bad. And she was willing to stoop pretty low for it.

She moaned.

“Sam, darling, I really don’t feel so good. Why don’t you crawl in here beside me and keep me warm. I’m shivering all over.”

Bingo! Could he call a kettle black?

Two months ago, he wouldn’t have given the invitation a second thought. Two months ago, since leaving Memphis, he was desperate for female companionship. Two months ago, Missy Hawkins looked pretty damned good to him.

But at the present, the sight of her sickened him to the core.

Missy Hawkins’ bed was not where he wanted to be.

If he wanted in anyone’s bed, it was Lucki’s.

Or, better yet, he wanted Lucki in his bed.

Forever.

He took several steps in reverse.

“Missy, drink plenty of fluids, get lots of rest, eat when you feel like it, take something for the fever, and call the office tomorrow for an appointment if you don’t feel better.”

Then he turned tail and exited her bedroom door, a huge sigh of relief escaping his lips.

****

By the time they’d reached the picnic area, Lucki was fuming. Shades of the past infected her thoughts. Damn. How could she have been so stupid? So blind? So naive to think that Sam would be there for her?

All she’d wanted was one afternoon. A date. He’d insisted he be the one. Okay, then she’d agreed. That’s all she’d wanted from him. One afternoon. And now?

And now this? Dumped again? And it wasn’t even a real date?

Obviously, Sam Kirk had a lot to learn about women. No wonder he hadn’t found a wife yet!

But—what should she expect? Sam was Sam. Carefree. Live for the moment. One girl this week, one girl next week.

The Heartbreaker.

Dammit!

Thank God, she’d not allowed herself to get too caught up in him this time. Thank God, she had not lost her head and fallen for him again.

That, clearly, would never happen.

Sheesh...

This, was a total blessing in disguise.

Certainly, there were other fish in the sea. Right?

As she pulled into the parking lot behind the ball fields, Lucki gave the good Reverend a quick glance. He was a nice enough guy. Polite. Clean-shaven. Intelligent. Probably a great catch for some woman someday.

But not for her.

The wrong fish.

Then for who, Lucki? Who?

Why after all these years, had there not been a man to attract her attention? One to spark something inside of her and hold on for a long-term relationship? Why, would she not let herself get entangled in a man’s life and make him her own?

An image of a smiling Sam burned itself into her brain.

“Ohmigosh.”

“What Lucinda?”

Lucki quickly jerked her gaze away from the Reverend.

“Oh, nothing. Was just thinking out loud. I’ve got a lot of stuff to do before we get started.”

“Oh, I see.”

He nodded then exited the truck.

Lucki let her head fall to the steering wheel. Sam’s image was still burned into her mind.

She loved him.

All these years, she’d been comparing every man she’d ever met to Sam.

She loved him.

And he loved her.

Or so he said.

What the heck was she going to do about all of this?