Thank you for your continued support. I appreciate it.

I'm currently under heavy rainfall, lightning and thunder...and the two younger boys are driving me nuts...their devices are re-charging and they are restless. Help me!

Standard disclaimer.

I had a mean case of déjà vu.

Kind of.

Sitting inside my car, I stared through the rain-drenched windshield...totally intact windshield...as Denny finished up with Karofsky.

Well, it wasn't the 'just-got-married' Denny, who often came into the bar. Right now, he was Officer Denny Hammond.

Out of the hundred deputies that worked this county, it had to be someone who knew me, of course, because, that was how life worked.

Ugh.

I didn't think it was Karofsky, who'd called the police on me for breaking his windshield, because, he hadn't gotten the chance to do so.

Since I had impeccable timing, an elderly couple visiting someone, had just gotten out of their car, the very second New Moon broke the sound barrier and his windshield.

Not only had they called the cops, but they'd also parked themselves in front of my car, like I would run off, until Officer Hammond showed up.

Apparently, I'd hit the windshield at the right place...or maybe, it was the wrong spot. But since most glass was reinforced, I must have hit the one and only weak area.

Or maybe, I was really a mutant and could turn books into weapons of windshield destruction.

Then it rained, all the while Denny...nope, Officer Hammond...had glared at me, like he wanted to pick me up by the ankles and shake some sense into me.

I was soaked, so was he, even though he'd donned one of those plastic anti-rain things.

Both Karofsky and Officer Hammond, turned to look at me.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I rested my forehead against the steering wheel.

I was such...such an idiot...an impulsive, irresponsible idiot. What had I been thinking?

I couldn't even believe I'd done that.

Granted, I had a hell of a temper. I got that from my mama, too, but I'd never committed an act of vandalism.

Shame rode me hard, making my skin clammy and icky.

How was what I'd done, any different than what Karofsky had done?

I mean, I didn't hurt anyone, but I lost my shit and I reacted in a way that was violent and stupid.

Uncomfortable with that comparison, I felt a shudder of my shoulders, as disappointment set in.

The passenger door of my car opened suddenly, causing me to jerk back against the seat.

Wild eyed, I watched Denny slip into the seat next to me and m gaze bounced to the front of the car.

Patrick Karofsky was gone. So was his Mustang.

Reluctantly, I looked back at Denny.

"What were you thinking, Mercy?" Officer Denny asked, as he tugged off the hood of the plastic, yellow poncho.

I opened my mouth to respond.

"Don't answer that question," he snapped, scrubbing his hand along his jaw. "I already know. You weren't thinking a goddamn thing."

I snapped my mouth shut.

"I cannot believe you. You of all people should know better than to do what you did," he admonished.

Casting my gaze to the steering wheel, I pressed my lips together as I nodded. I did know better.

"You're so damn lucky," he said. "Patrick's not pressing charges."

My gaze swung toward him.

"What?"

He shook his head, as he flipped his stare to the window.

"He decided not to press charges. Which is great, because, I really don't want to explain to Sam, why I had to arrest you..."

'Oh God! Sam.'

"...Or have to deal with your parents, who I'm sure, would be hella proud of what you did," he added, laying it on thick. But hell, I deserved it. "However, your ass is going to pay for that window to get fixed ASAP. You got it?"

"Yes," I replied immediately. "As soon as I know how much it costs, I'll pay it."

A moment passed.

"Patrick is going to get an estimate, and it'll go through me. I think that's for the best right now."

I agreed one hundred percent.

"Denny, I'm...I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I was just so angry that he was there, and he grabbed my arm..."

"He said he grabbed your arm, right before you threw the book," he cut in. "By the way, I think that's the first time I've seen a book take out a windshield, so thanks for that. But he didn't make it sound like it was an aggressive move. And you didn't bring it up when I first got here. Is there something I don't know?"

"It wasn't an aggressive move. He wanted to talk. I didn't."

"And that's your right, Mercy. You don't have to talk to him," he agreed. "But you can't damage his property."

"I know," I whispered.

Denny sent me a long, sideways look.

"I wasn't around when that shit went down with Kurt. Hell, I didn't even live in this state, but I've heard the details. I know what happened, and if it were my decision, the punk ass would still be sitting in jail. But it's not my decision."

In the cramped seat, he twisted towards me.

"And I get, that it's majorly fucked up, that he's out and he gets to come around here, but little girl, you've got to pull it together. You can't do shit like this. It doesn't help anyone, especially yourself."

I stared at him.

"You feel me?" he asked.

"Yeah, I feel you."

Needless to say, I was late for my shift after that, which sucked ass, because, it also meant, I wasn't going to get the design done for a blogger, before I left for work.

It was going to be a long night, because, I was going to have to finish it up, when I got back home.

Surprisingly, Ryder hadn't known about my very powerful throwing arm, but when I told him what I had done and he caught me by the hem of my WALKERS NEED LOVE TOO shirt and dragged me down the somewhat quiet hall, I knew I was in for Lecture Number Two of the night.

"Girl, what in the hell were you thinking?" he demanded.

"I wasn't thinking anything," I told him. "That was the problem. I just got so pissed and stopped thinking."

He stared at me, brows raised.

"That isn't a good enough reason."

I almost jumped up and down out of frustration.

"I know it's not. Trust me. I totally know that. I'm going to pay for the damages."

"Merce..."

Ducking my chin, I folded my arms across my chest. All day I'd felt like crap for what I had done.

It wasn't a pitying type of feeling like crap. Oh no, it was the 'I'm-such-a-fucker' feeling like crap.

I hadn't felt this way, since the last time I had to dodge my landlord, when I was late on rent.

Once again, I found myself wishing I could drink at work.

"Well, there's one thing at least," Ryder started. He playfully cuffed my chin, and I looked up. "You obviously got a hell of an arm."

I rolled my eyes, as a dry laugh parted my lips.

"That's what happens when you grow up with two brothers."

"True. You tell your parents yet?"

"No. I'm leaving that until tomorrow."

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks," I moaned.

Shaking his head, he gestured at the closed office door.

"By the way, there's something in there for you."

"There is?" I asked, a little surprised.

His lips quirked.

"Yeah, and after the day you've had, it'll be a nice surprise. Check them out and get back behind the bar."

"Yes, sir!" I gave him a jaunty salute, which he promptly ignored.

Since I'd been late getting in, I had gone straight to the bar, stowing my purse there, so I hadn't stepped foot in the office.

I opened the door and drew up short.

"What the...?" I murmured.

There was no way Ryder was talking about the flowers sitting on the desk.

I looked around the small room, but nothing else stood out to me.

The couch was there. The file cabinet. The bowl of possibly stale beer nuts.

My eyes traveled back to the flowers.

The roses were nice...way over a dozen, bright crimson, and had just bloomed.

The light scent wafted over me as I walked towards the desk.

A square envelope poked out between the baby's breath and green stems, with my name clearly written on it.

Somewhere deep in my belly, there was a bunch of wiggling going on...happy wiggling.

I carefully plucked it up and opened it. It read,

Next time will be better.

Uh, what?

My brows inched up my forehead.

I flipped the card over and there was no name.

I turned it back over and read the message again. Then, a slow smile tugged at the corner of my lips. It had to be from Sam.

The message was kind of weird, but it had to be from him.

I curled my fingers along the edges of the dainty card, as I bit down on my lip.

Sam was normally off on Fridays, or at least, that's what I thought. It was hard to keep track of his schedule.

He'd been in the bar on Wednesday, and we had talked, but he hadn't mentioned the whole wanting to be more than friends thing, and I hadn't brought it up either, because, I didn't know what to do with that.

Well, I had plenty of ideas of what I could do with that.

A lot of them involved getting naked and contorting our bodies into yoga-type positions and such.

But as cliché as it sounded, I didn't know how to handle wanting something or someone for so long and then finally getting it.

Maybe, I could text him about the roses.

Grinning like a complete doofus, I slipped the card into the back of my jeans and headed back out to the bar.

There was a crowd waiting to get served, and poor Patrice was running back and forth, as fast as her legs would carry her.

Hours flew by, before I even realized it, or had a chance to pick up my phone and the crowd was finally thinning out a little.

I took the precious downtime to gather my hair up into a quick ponytail and to grab a fresh Coke from the tap.

When the door opened one more time, the scent of summer rain tickled my nose. I glanced up and over and my heart flailed in my chest.

Sam walked in, his blonde hair plastered to his forehead, the ends curling, as tiny drips of rain cascaded down his temple and onto his shirt.

As he reached up and smoothed his large hand over his head, brushing those wet strands back, he reminded me of Poseidon rising from the ocean.

Holy hotness!

He looked over, and our gazes collided and held.

And as he crossed the floor, walked around the bar and came behind it, towards me, he didn't look away for one second.

"Ok-ay," Noah said and stepped back before he got mowed over.

My lungs constricted, as Sam took my hand and then turned, walking out from behind the bar, tugging me along.

"Nice to see you, too, Sam," Ryder said, sharing a look with him. Then, he looked at me and nodded in Noah's direction. "Don't mind us. Take a break. We got it."

Normally, I would've protested, especially, since sarcasm dripped from half of what Ryder said, but the wiggling in my tummy was back in full force.

It was like, that somewhat scary show I watched as a kid...The Teletubbies.

Someone...I think Milton...catcalled, as Sam led me down the hall, and my cheeks flushed.

"Okay, he-man, I can walk all by my little self," I said.

He cast a look over his shoulder at me, as he opened the office door.

"I'm sure you can."

Then, he pulled me inside.

My gaze flipped to the roses...the roses!

But before I could say a word, he closed the door and my back was pressed against it, his hands planted on either side of my head and his face right in mine.

Like right there, within kissing distance.

Wow!

"So, I was at my father's place in New Jersey most of the day, and you know, he lives out near the Pine Barrens, so service is shit."

I nodded, even though I really wasn't processing what he was saying, as I was too busy staring at his mouth. Those lips, fuller on the bottom, drove me to distraction.

"I pull out of his driveway, on my way home and suddenly, I have all these messages from Denny," he continued, and I finally caught on to what he was talking about.

"I honestly thought he was messing with me at first," he went on.

I cringed.

"He...um...he wasn't."

He shot me a bland look.

"That much I figured out." His hands slid on the door, stopping just shy of touching my shoulders. "What did he do to you?"

"What?" I blinked.

"What did that bastard do, to make you throw a book through his windshield?" he asked.

Uh-oh, my heart was now wiggling along with my stomach.

"He really didn't do anything. I just lost my cool. He wanted to talk to me, and I didn't want to talk to him."

"You don't have to talk to him."

"That's what Denny said, but I shouldn't have damaged his car."

A muscle flexed along his right jaw.

"That's true." He shook his head. "Damn, Mercy, can't say I'm surprised."

My brows flew up.

"You're not?" I asked.

He laughed under his breath.

"Babe, you've always had a hell of a temper on you."

That was true.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I asked.

Sam cocked his head to the side.

"A sexy thing, but vandalism and destruction of property, doesn't look good on you, sweets."

"No. It doesn't match my manicure." I raised my hands, flashing him the blue nails.

He laughed again and then he sobered up, just like that. Cop Face was on, and yeah...the low coiling in my stomach told me, I found Cop Face arousing.

"You're lucky. He could've pressed charges, and this conversation would be going in a whole different direction."

My own half smile slipped off my face.

"I know. It's...I was just with Kurt, and he's..." Unable to continue, I forced a casual shrug I didn't feel. "What are you going to do with me?"

His lips parted, as his chest rose with a deep breath.

Then, his gaze dropped to my mouth, and his expression tightened. He looked...hungry.

"I have lots of ideas," he said.

Warmth invaded me in the form of a slow burn.

His thick lashes lifted, and I was lost in the depths of his green eyes.

My fingers itched to touch him, like I had, that night so long ago...to sink my fingers into his damp hair, to smooth my hands over his hard chest and stomach.

I bit down on my lip, as he moved his left hand and caught a piece of hair, that had slipped out of my ponytail.

He smoothed it back, and a wave of tight, hot shivers coursed down my spine.

In an unconscious, oddly instinctual move, my hips lifted off the door, moving closer to his.

And it did not go unnoticed by him, and I wondered, what would he do, if I touched him now?

If I dragged my hand down his chest, under his shirt? Touched his bare flesh?

God, just thinking about it, almost made me moan.

A half smile formed on Sam's lips, as the green of his eyes deepened.

"What are you thinking, Mercy?" he asked.

'Naughty, dirty thoughts I'd never share,' I thought, so I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Thank you for the roses."

He arched a brow, as some of the heat faded from his stare.

"I didn't send you roses."

"Oh? Oh." The moment between us was officially broken. "You didn't?"

Pushing off the door, he dropped his arms to his sides.

"No." His lips pursed, as he turned sideways, eyeing the roses on the desk. "Those flowers?"

"Yeah, those flowers. I thought they were from you." I edged away from the door. "Are you sure you didn't send them?"

The look on his face basically said what a dumb question that was.

"Well, this is awkward." I shifted my weight from one foot to the next. "The card didn't have a name on it, and I honestly don't know who they'd be from."

He approached the flowers, running a finger over a dewy petal.

"What did the card say?"

"Um...something like it'll be better next time."

Looking over his shoulder at me, he grinned.

"I can see why you'd think it would be from me, but it wasn't."

I wondered, if he thought it would be weird, if I grabbed the flowers and threw them out of the office. Okay. No more throwing stuff.

"Should I be worried?" He faced me fully.

"Huh?"

The grin was full of boyish charm.

"Do I have competition?"

It took me another moment to get what he meant, and a laugh burst out of me, as I glanced at the flowers.

"Yeah, I guess so."

The flowers had to be from Sean, and that meant, even though I hadn't responded to any of the four texts he sent me, he still hadn't gotten the message.

"I'm going to have to do something about that," Sam said, leaning against the desk.

He crossed his arms, drawing my attention to the shape of his upper arms.

"Which reminds me. Back to what I'm going to do with you." His green eyes glimmered and my mind jumped right into the gutter.

"I didn't drive here tonight," he announced.

"You didn't?"

"Nope. I went home first. That's why I wasn't here earlier. I needed to get changed, since I was helping Dad clean out his garage. Then I got Stevie to drop me off," he explained, as he tilted his head to the side.

His gaze dipped, and I felt it all the way to the tips of my , he said,

"I'm going home with you tonight."

Stay safe!