Sharon Sala - Remember Me

Remember Me

Book Jacket

One

F rancescacome here to me, baby.

Frankie LeGrand was beginning to worry about the darkening clouds, but as her husbands voice wrapped around her, her thoughts shifted. She pivoted, turning her back on the window at which shed been standing, as well as the view of the storm about to hit their Denver home.

I think its going to rain, she said.

I think I dont give a damn.

Frankie smiled. Clay LeGrand had been her husband for exactly a year and one dayall six feet four inches of him. On most days, he was a law unto himself. It would seem this day was one of those timesand it was part of why she loved him. Clay liked what he liked, and laughed when something struck him as funny, and didnt give a good goddamn what anyone else thought.

She gave him the once-over as he leaned against the doorway, her wifely instincts kicking in to make sure that when he left, he would be prepared for a wet day ahead.

He was ready for work. Blue jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and, of course, a flannel-lined denim jacket and work boots. His hard hat would be in the truck. As foreman of his fathers construction company, it was something he never left home without.

Thunder rumbled overhead, rattling the window behind her. Although the weather was not unusual for an October morning, she shivered suddenly, hugging herself in reflex. Before long it would be winter, and she hated the cold.

Hey, Clay said. If you need a hug, let me do that. Then hug, she said, and opened her arms.

When his arms wrapped around her, she closed her eyes, savoring the safety of his love. The fabric of his shirt was soft against her cheek as she inhaled slowly, cupping his backside as she pulled him closer.

You smell good, she whispered.

His voice lowered to a growl. Francesca Clay, am I in trouble?

He grinned. Why?

Because the only time you growl at me is when youre angry. He frowned. I am never angry with you and you know it.

She arched an eyebrow. Wellmaybe disturbed is a better word. And dont deny it, because I know you were disturbed when you caught the bag boy at the grocery store winking at me last week.

Damn right, he growled, then scooped her into his arms, kissing her hard all the way to the bed.

Youre going to be late.

Ignoring her warning, he yanked her shirt over her head. Clay, what will your dad say?

Probably something like, Where the hell are my doughnuts?

Her laughter shattered about him, causing him to flinch. He loved her so much it scared him. She made him weak, and Clay LeGrand had never been a weak man.

As he wrapped her in his arms, she knew that she was blessed. Clay was diligent to a fault, but a few minutes late would put him in no danger of losing his job, especially if he showed up with a dozen of his dads favorite chocolate-covered doughnuts.

She savored his kisses, feeling the warmth of his lips against her skin. When the tip of his tongue laved her nipple, she sighed and closed her eyes. For Frankie, Clay was her joy, her reason for living. Raised in an orphanage, shed been alone in this worlduntil him. He wasnt just her husband, he was her everything. She cupped his face with her hands, momentarily stopping his excursion.

Clay?

He raised himself up on one an elbow. What, sweetheart? When I was standing at the window

He gazed down at her, wondering how something as simple as black hair and brown eyes could be so enchanting in one womans face.

What about the window? he muttered.

You started to say something to me. What were you going to say?

That you looked sexy as hell in my shirt. Then his eyes darkened as he looked at her there beneath him, hair tousled, sleepy-eyed and naked. But you look even better in nothing.

She arched toward his touch as he stroked the length of her body. His eyes glittered as she grabbed his hand, stilling its journey.

What? he growled.

Take off your clothes and make love to me now, before I die from pure want.

He grinned. That was a request he could easily fill.

Minutes passed. Outside, the storm made good on the promise of rain. Now and then, a hard gust of wind would shatter the rhythm of the raindrops against the windows, but nothing could stop the rhythm of the lovers as they rode out a storm of their own.

The day dragged from one hour to the next. Even though most of the construction on the site was being done indoors, the rain still hampered deliveries. It was too wet to haul Sheetrock, and too wet to finish the roof on the north end of the complex. Clays dad had gone home at noon, leaving only a skeleton crew, with Clay in charge. By four oclock, Clay called a halt and sent them home, as well. The delay wasnt crucial. They were several weeks ahead of schedule as it was, and going home early would be good. Maybe he and Frankie would order in a pizza. If the temperature kept dropping, they might even build a fire in the fireplace. Frankie would like that. She hated the cold.

Clays mind was spinning as he stopped off at the supermarket. He made a dash for the door, splashing through the puddles as he ran, then stopped at a pay phone just inside to see if there was anything she needed in the way of groceries before he went home.

Shivering slightly from the chill, he dropped the coins into the slots, then counted the rings, each time expecting Frankie to pick up. She didnt. He hung up, absently pocketing the coins that the phone had returned as he started toward the back of the store. She was probably taking a shower. You

couldnt hear the phone if the shower was running. A few minutes later, he headed back to his truck, a half gallon of Rocky Road ice cream richer than hed been before hed gone inside.

It was forty-five minutes after four when Clay pulled into the driveway and parked. The rain was coming down in sheets, almost obliterating his view of their little house. In fact, as he began to gather his things, it almost looked as if there was a wall between him and home. He shuddered, wondering where the thought had come from. Normally, he wasnt the fanciful type. He tucked the sack of ice cream beneath his jacket as he got out of the truck, then made a run for the house. The childish feeling of trying to outrun the rain had him laughing at himself as he loped in the front door.

FrankieIm home! he shouted, still laughing as he shrugged off his jacket and took off his boots. Hey, honey! Its me! I brought you a surprise!

He picked up the ice cream and started toward the kitchen, expecting her to step out of a roomany roomat any minute. Halfway across the living room, he stopped and turned around, looking back the way hed just come. The hair rose on the back of his neck as the quiet of the house suddenly wrapped itself around him.

The front door.

It hadnt been locked.

He turned slowly, suddenly aware of the silence. He heard nothing familiar. Not a radio. Not a TV. Not even the sound of running water. Only the downpour on the roof. He clutched the ice cream a little tighter.