“I’ll carry you out. Grab your purse.” Before she could protest, his arms were around her and she was being swept up. Half a dozen emotions scurried through her head, embarrassment, relief, awkwardness, safety, helplessness and joy.

“Here, hold the flashlight and point it to the truck.”

Autumn did as she was told, grateful to be doing something rather than lusting after the impossible.

“Hold tight around my neck,” he told her, approaching the truck. She clung to him too easily while he maneuvered to open the driver’s side door. Gently, he set her onto the seat and she immediately slid over to give him room.

“I’ll get you home in no time,” he said, playing with the dash buttons on his Ford F-350. “It’ll be warm in here soon.”

Staring at him, she nodded. She was already warm. On the inside.

Once the engine roared and heat shot out of the vents, Sam put the truck in gear and off they went. It only took two minutes to get back to the farm and he parked in front of the house.

Sam turned her way. She met his piercing blue eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He took her hand and stroked her fingers. His touch sent her nerves into a beautiful panic.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Somehow, they were closing the gap between them. Somehow, they were face-to-face, the porch light streaming in enough for her to see the want in his eyes. The desire. Was she reading too much into this?

“You could’ve called my cell first.”

“I didn’t think of it.”

“You wouldn’t call me unless you were out of options.” He gave her an adorable crooked smile.

“You’re not my last resort,” she said softly.

“I’m not?” His fingers left her hand, the absence missed immediately and then his palm was on her cold cheek, warming it up. Warming her up.

“Autumn.” He stared into her eyes, then at her mouth.

Her heart skipped a beat. She swallowed as gracefully as she could and dipped her eyes to his mouth.

He leaned in.

She leaned in.

He positioned her mouth up to his with the slightest tilt and touched his lips to hers. A little sound rose up her throat, a long overdue whimper. He made a sound too, more like an anguished groan and she reveled in the powerful connection they shared. It was sweet and delicious and hot all at the same time. She could go on kissing Sam all night.

Too soon, he ended the kiss and backed away, gazing into her eyes. “I’m, uh… so—”

“Shhh.” She placed two fingers over his mouth. “Don’t say it. Don’t… it was perfect.”

He nodded as if he agreed. As if, he knew he just turned her world upside down. “You’d better go in.”

She grabbed her purse. At some point the rain had stopped, the night was quiet again. “Sam?”

“Hmmm.”

He slipped back behind the wheel, growing the gap between them now.

“Why were you still here,” she asked quietly, “when I called?”

“I was just cleaning up for Manny.”

“He wouldn’t expect you to. He wouldn’t ask that of you.”

Sam pursed his lips and sat rigid, staring out the window, as if he hadn’t just kissed her. As if he hadn’t just made her ridiculously happy.

And then it dawned on her. “You were waiting up for me.” Heat rushed up her throat. “Oh, God. Did my father make you wait for me to come home?”