Free Deadly Force by Beverly Long Page B

notch. “Kind of late for a business meeting, isn’t it?”
    She frowned at him. “Pete and I are both finalists in a design contest. There’s an awards dinner early next week. We were making a few plans.”
    “Whatever,” Sam said. “Can we just get out of here?”
    She got up and dusted off her butt. Sam didn’tmiss that Pete’s eyes followed the motion. He might have to kill the guy after all.
    Claire walked down the steps, her pretty pointed chin in the air. “You look a little flustered, Sam,” she said.
    Flustered? Sam Vernelli didn’t do flustered. “I couldn’t find you,” he said.
    “I left a note,” she said, bending down to grab Nightmare’s leash.
    A car pulled up behind Tom’s car andthe driver leaned on his horn. Sam grabbed Claire’s elbow and steered her toward the car. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said. “Just do what I say.”
    She stopped, dead in the middle of the street. The man in the car stuck his head out of the window and started yelling in Spanish. Dogs up and down the street started barking. Lights flipped on. Window shades went up.
    It was a damn circus.
    Sam yanked on her arm and barely budged her. For a little thing, she’d dug her heels in. Literally.
    “Come on,” he said. “You’re making a scene.”
    She turned on him. “ I’m making a scene? How dare you?”
    “I swear to God, Claire, if you don’t move, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and carry you to that car.”
    “You wouldn’t dare.”
    The guy, still screaming, opened hiscar door.
    Sam leaned down, put his shoulder next to her stomach and upended her.
    She shrieked. Then kicked.
    And for one crazy minute, he let himself fantasize about spanking her feisty butt.
    He held her legs down with one hand and yanked open the car door with the other. Nightmare, for once acting like he had a brain, jumped in without prodding. Sam dumped Claire onto the seatand slid in after her.
    “Drive,” he said.
    Tom, scrubbing at his acne medicine with one hand, reached his other arm over the seat. “Hi. I’m Tom. I live above Sam.”
    Claire, acting like she was at some damn tea party, extended her own hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
    “Could we hold off on the introductions for a few minutes?” Sam asked, furious with both of them. Horn Blowerhad gone back to his car, but Sam figured, given his luck lately, it was only to retrieve a gun from under the seat.
    “Of course,” Tom said, winking at Claire.
    Claire winked back.
    What was there to wink about? If Tom had started beating his head against the window and pulling out his hair, now that would have made some sense.
    When they got to Sam’s house, it took Tom two triesto squeeze back into his parking spot. Sam barely waited for the car to stop moving before he opened the door and got out. Then he tapped his fingers against the hood of the car. Nightmare came out first, followed closely by Claire. She moved quickly. He had to slam the car door and chase her up the front steps of his house. He could hear Tom running behind him.
    Claire had shoved a key intothe lock by the time he caught her. He heard the tumblers fall into place and he reached past her to shove the door open. Nightmare darted in.
    But suddenly Claire didn’t move. She turned to look at him. “I’m sorry. I acted like a fool at Pete’s place. I get a little crazy when people tell me what to do.”
    “It’s because we’re Generation Y,” Tom said from somewhere behind him.
    Tommade it sound like Sam was Generation Old.
    “Can we please just call it a night?” Sam asked.
    Claire nodded.
    “Hope to see you again, Claire,” Tom called out.
    “Sure. That would be great,” Claire said, finally stepping inside.
    Yeah . Great . Sam shut the door harder than he needed to.
    “Nice guy,” Claire said.
    “If you like the nose-in-the-book type,” Sam said. He didnot want to talk about Tom. “It’s late,” he said.
    “Why was he driving you?”
    “I’d had a