"Good. And I know what you mean about relief. I don't know how long I could continue coming up with southernisms without going to the library for fresh material."

Areluctant smile appeared on her face. "You were going a little overboard with that stuff. If Andrew wasn't going to deck you one, I certainly was."

He smiled back, blue eyes meaningful. "Hey. It worked. I'd say you owe me one."

Her smile faded as she looked down at her empty ring finger. "Yeah, I guess so."

He lifted her chin. "I'm sorry your marriage plans didn't work out. But I think you'll find that it wasn't meant to be. You two weren't meant for each other, that's all. You'll find somebody. I know it."

The touch of his fingers burned. Stepping back, she picked up the dishtowel. "I guess you're going to tell me the angelfish story again."

He shook his head, his eyes bright, his body close enough to hers that she could feel his heat. "No. But I'd like to tell you another story."

The sliding door opened, interrupting him, and Mr. Parker stepped into the room. Cassie turned back to the sink, expecting Sam to step away. But he remained where he was, and every pore on her skin was vitally aware of his nearness. She felt hot and flustered and knew it had nothing to do with the weather.

To her surprise, Mr. Parker came to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "I hope your heart's not broken over this, Cassie."

Her heart was far from broken, but his sympathy nearly brought tears to her eyes. She sent him a bright smile. "No, I'm fine. Really. As everyone keeps telling me, it's better that it happened now rather than later." Impulsively, she put her arm around Mr. Parker's thick waist and squeezed. "I was hoping you'd let me keep your shower present, though. I could use a homemade ice-cream maker."

He winked at his son. "Sure, dear. You go on and keep it. Save me the trouble of getting you something else when you do decide to get married."

Sam coughed. "So, Dad, did you get the car running?"

Mr. Parker pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. His nail beds were stained dark with fresh grease. "Yep. Just finished. Parked it in front of Cassie's house so he'll have no trouble finding it."

Cassie stared at him. "You fixed Andrew's car? Tonight?"

The older man looked sheepish. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but after I saw you with your fiance earlier this evening, I went back to the service station to put in that part I had ordered. I didn't want to be the one responsible for keeping him here one minute longer than needed."

Cassie's eyes widened as she stared at the two men, their only similarity their bright blue eyes-both pairs now sparkling with hidden mirth. Unable to contain herself, she laughed out loud and was soon joined by Sam and his father.

Wiping tears from her eyes, she hugged Mr. Parker. "Thanks. You're a lifesaver. I hadn't quite yet figured out how I could face him for the long drive to the airport tomorrow."

He grinned. "Glad I could help." He shoved his handkerchief back into his pocket. "Better go find the missus now before she tans my hide for skipping out on her when the music started. She'll forgive me, though, when I tell her why." With a wink, he left through the sliding door, latching it behind him.

"There goes a very smart man." Sam lifted a stack of dirty paper plates and shoved them deep into the garbage can.

Cassie leaned back, her arms propped on the counter, a teasing grin on her face. "Too bad you're not more like him."

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "You think I should start wearing overalls?"

"Anything but linen pants and silk shirts." She hadn't meant to say that. It seemed so disloyal. Almost as if she were speaking ill of the dead.

Sam stepped closer to the counter, picked up a clean fork, and stabbed it into Brunelle Thompkins's chocolate bourbon pecan pie. "Did you get to try any of this?"

Glad for the change of subject, Cassie's eyebrows lifted. "Is that what I think it is?"

With a seductive grin, Sam approached with the full fork held aloft. "Ten-time State Fair champion in the pie division and none other. Would you like some?"

She nodded eagerly.

Instead of handing her the fork, he held it in front of her mouth. "Take a bite."

Her gaze never leaving his, she opened her mouth and felt the rich chocolate melt on her tongue. Belatedly thinking of the calories, she bit it in half, leaving the rest still on the fork. As she chewed slowly, she watched as Sam put the rest in his mouth, leaving a small crumb on his lower lip.

Her finger and his tongue reached the crumb at the same time and collided, sending a flash of heat through her hand, up her arm, and coming to a rest somewhere below her lower rib and belly button.

His voice rumbled in his throat. "Want some more?"

The moisture left her mouth with a rush. She could only nod.

He made no move toward the pie, but just looked at her with an innocent grin.

The door opened again, and Lucinda, her fuschia jumpsuit looking a little crumpled, entered the kitchen. She smiled with relief when she spotted Cassie and Sam. "Just the two people I needed to talk to." She leaned against the glass for a moment as if waiting for the scent of her Saucy perfume to reach them. "Harriet's just beat. I'm going to spend the night here so she can rest in the morning while I get up with the children. Sam, would you mind driving Cassie home?" She smiled expectantly.

"If the lady doesn't mind riding in my truck, I'd be happy to."

Cassie swallowed. "Really, Aunt Lu. I can walk. It's only a few blocks. . . ."

Lucinda shook her head. "It's hotter than Hades out there, and you've got all those leftovers to cart back. Just let Sam take you." She winked. "I'll see you in the morning." The door slid closed behind her.

Avoiding Sam's eyes, Cassie said, "Well, that settles that, I guess. All the dishes are done, so let me go say good-bye and get my purse."

When they found Harriet to say good-bye, Cassie was surprised when Sam leaned over to kiss Harriet's cheek, then whispered something in her ear. He hugged her, then turned back to Cassie, his eyes brooding. Curious, she wanted to ask him about it but held back, knowing it was none of her business. She was eager not to break the spell that had somehow enveloped her and Sam.

Ten minutes later, all the food containers stored neatly in the backseat of the truck, Cassie slid into her seat and waited for Sam to walk around to his side.

She blinked hard at the dash. Staring at her, propped upright on its cardboard backing, was her old high school picture. The same one that had been in the garbage pile in her father's study. She yanked it off the dash and threw it at Sam as he opened his door.

"What in the hell is that doing there? Are you sadistic or something?"

He leaned down and carefully picked the picture off the driveway. "What are you talking about? There's not a thing wrong with this picture. I saw you were planning on throwing it away and figured you wouldn't mind me taking it."

His smile almost made Cassie forget her anger. Almost.

"Why would you want that? To put it in your attic to scare the mice away?"

He slid in easily on the leather seat and closed the door. "No. I wanted to show it to Andy. I figured if that didn't make him run, nothing would."

She punched him on the shoulder, trying not to laugh.

He rubbed his shoulder, pretending that it hurt. "Actually, I wanted you to sign it. You promised me our senior year that I could have one of your pictures, and I guess you forgot. Now's my chance. I figured for my patience I could at least get it autographed."

She folded her arms over her chest, trying to remember promising him a picture, but she couldn't. She couldn't even remember having had a conversation with him prior to the night of the ill-fated fall formal.

"I'm not signing that thing. It belongs in the garbage." Her chin jutted out.

Sam leaned back in his seat and started the engine. "Fine. I'll just sit it up here on my dashboard to keep me company."

Leaning back, she stared out the open window, up toward the inky sky, with its spattering of stars. "Funny, I don't remember asking you for your picture." She cringed at the petulant sound of her voice, wondering why she was being so mean.

"You didn't." He glanced over at her. "What's the matter? Feeling scared?"

She noticed she was clutching her necklace and quickly dropped her hand. "Of course not."

But that wasn't true at all. Being near him jangled all the nerves in her body, heating each one like eggs sizzling in a frying pan. The sound of his voice alone sent her pulse skipping and humming in her veins. And that's what scared her. He was as much a part of Walton and her past life as the old house. He lived and breathed the place in which he had been born and where he planned to be buried. But she had long since cut her tethers and moved on to new pastures, now leading a life she had worked very hard to obtain. The thought of returning to this place was as foreign to her as putting "y'all" back into her vocabulary and going barefoot. No, she wasn't scared. She was petrified.

Sam pulled into the drive and stopped the engine but didn't move to get out. She faced him in the bright moonlight.

"Andrew's car is gone."

Sam's voice was quiet. "Yeah, I noticed."

He continued to look at her, his breath soft and rhythmic. A firefly, caught inside the cab of the truck, blinked between them.

Cassie smiled crookedly. "Horny bug. Hope he finds himself a date."

Sam's lips turned up. "Is my butt glowing, too?"

She gave a quiet laugh. "Not yet."

When his mouth touched hers, she sighed and allowed herself to be pressed against the back of the seat. He nibbled at her mouth, making her squirm in her want for more. Impatient, she pushed her fingers through his thick hair and brought him closer to her. Their tongues touched tentatively, then Cassie opened wider, allowing him to invade her mouth more thoroughly.

She sighed again, tasting him, wondering at the rush of heat that flooded into her core. She slid lower in her seat, bringing him down with her. His warmth engulfed her like a hot fire on a winter afternoon. His breath on her neck, as he nibbled along her collarbone, sent shock waves to her limbs, making them tremble. She grabbed his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

What are you doing, Cassie? She opened her eyes, wondering if she'd said the thought aloud. She pushed away, sliding herself up against the door. "Stop. Please. What were we thinking?"

His eyes glittered from the faint porch light, his voice a low drawl. "I know what I was thinking, and if I were a betting man, I'd say you were thinking the same thing."

She pushed herself harder against the door, the handle digging into her back. "I . . . we can't."

He leaned closer, his lips brushing hers. "Why not? Are you and Andy still engaged?"

Breathless, she only shook her head.

He nibbled on her lower lip. "Do you still have feelings for the man?"

She barely managed two shakes of her head.

"I didn't think so." He pressed his mouth against hers, his tongue prying her lips open, and she moaned in spite of herself. He lifted himself slightly so she could slide her arms around him and grab his shoulders. She could have been in the middle of a hurricane but wouldn't have heard a thing for the roaring in her ears. Why was she letting this man affect her so?

She struggled to think clearly. "But I was engaged to the man when I woke up this morning. I don't think I . . ."

Sam raised his head, his breathing hard and heavy. "Now's not the time to be thinking with your head. Feel with your heart for a change."

She eyed him warily. This wasn't fooling around. This was playing with fire. But her body thrummed at a high pitch just from being this close to him fully dressed. If she didn't have him now, she'd never get him out of her system, and she'd always wonder what it would have been like. Something was thinking for her, but she didn't think it was her heart.

He must have read something in her eyes, because he leaned down closer and touched his lips to hers for a brief, tantalizing moment before unlatching her car door. With lightning speed, he jumped out of the truck and was helping her out. She had barely made it to a standing position when she found herself pushed against the side of the truck. His mouth devoured hers as her hands, as if of their own accord, unbuttoned his shirt. His hands stroked her sides, sliding the thin silk of her dress and slip over her bare skin, making her think of bedsheets. She moaned and pushed away from the truck.

They stared at each other for a full minute, breathing heavily, the heat from their bodies rising like steam in the sultry night air. She recognized the need in his eyes, and something else there, too. Blinking slowly, she wondered if the same look was mirrored in her own eyes and prayed that it wasn't. She started to back away from the intensity of his gaze but stumbled, catching his outstretched arm for balance. God help her, she couldn't walk away. Not now. Without a word, his hands cupped her buttocks and pulled her closer, then lifted her until she straddled him.

The thin silk of her underwear, the only thing separating her from his jeans, left nothing to the imagination as he walked up the porch stairs and into the foyer. His pants were stretched tight under her, rub-bing her mercilessly with each step. He kicked the door shut behind him with a booted heel, then headed for the stairway.

She stopped him at the foot of the stairs, pulling her mouth away from his and sliding down to stand on the bottom step. "Wait a minute. Where are you going?"

He arched an eyebrow. "To your bedroom." He lifted her and took another step before she slid down again.

"We can't . . . you . . . gosh, Sam, not in my bedroom. That's like . . . like running naked in church or something."

While she spoke, his hand had moved to her back and slowly slid down the zipper of her dress. "Do you have a better suggestion?" Gentle fingers pushed the dress off her shoulders and helped the delicate fabric slide to the ground. He regarded her red silk slip. "A slip?"

She grinned shakily as his fingers relieved her shoulders of the thin scarlet straps and the slip joined her dress around her ankles. "Old habits die hard."

His mouth found a nipple, and she threw her head back with a moan, forgetting for a moment what they had been discussing.

While his tongue wreaked havoc on her breast, she undid his belt buckle and unzipped his jeans. Pulling away from him, she sat down on the step and turned her attention to relieving him of his pants. She grinned impishly up at him. "Well, I guess while we're here . . ." He muttered something under his breath as she cupped him in her hands and then brought him into her mouth.

She took him in deeply, breathing his scent and her own arousal. Her hands wandered up to his taut abdomen, then stroked the back of his legs. Even without his touching her, she felt the restrained strength of his body and its incredible hold over hers.

His voice was strained. "If you don't stop that now, it'll be over before it starts."

With a parting kiss on his inner thigh, she leaned back, resting her elbows on the step behind her. "What else did you have in mind?" Her voice cracked, belying her flippant attitude.

With a growl he lifted her buttocks off the steps and slid her under-wear off, throwing it in the hall somewhere behind him. He leaned over her, his hands propping him up. "Lord, you're beautiful." He took a deep breath. "Do you have any idea how long I've waited to see Cassie Madison naked?"

She squirmed under him, pressing her nakedness against him. "Uh-uh."

"If you can't guess, I'm not going to tell you, because it's too embarrassing." He lowered himself, pausing at her threshold, surely feeling her wetness. "Say, 'Y'all.' "

"What?" She looked at him, incredulous.

"I'm not going any further until I hear you say it." His breath was strained.

She pushed herself against him again, crazy with her need for him. "You're nuts."

He didn't move. "Say it."

"Y'all." She could barely speak.

He slid against her. "Now say, 'fried chicken and sweet tea.' "

"Oh, God, Sam, please don't make me wait."

He bent his head and sucked on a nipple, filling her with a ripeness she was sure would burst. "Say it."

"Fried chicken and sweet tea."

He pushed into her with a long sigh. "That's my good ol' southern girl. I just had to make sure."