Goddess Rising (27 page)

“Oh—but you do?” she taunted. “You get the story
and
the girl. That’s your game, right, Wes?”

“Why the hell do you keep insisting I’m running game on you?” He pushed his hair back, pegging her with an exasperated look. “What the heck does a guy have to do to show you he’s serious?”

“Wes, the only thing you’re serious about is getting laid and getting known.” Sam cocked her head. “You get a two-fer with me, don’t you? Why can’t you just admit that’s all you’re interested in?”

“That’s not how I see it,” he argued. “I’m telling the story of a girl I admire. One who I think’ll go far—maybe even break barriers.” Wes leaned forward. “And I happen to really like her too. How is this not a win-win?”

“Who’s it a win-win for besides you?” she argued.

“Oh, Lord—are you two at it again?” Chris called out, exiting the locker room with a group of players. “Swear to God, every time I turn around, you two have your tails up.”

“You drop this story on me, and I’ll be sweet as pie,” Sam offered, eyes on Wes.

“Oh,
please
.” Wes shook his head. “What the hell would you do if you weren’t so busy always busting my balls?”

Sam’s mouth dropped open as Chris guffawed.

“He may have you there, sweetheart,” Chris told her, throwing a heavy arm around her shoulders. “I think you like busting his, er, chops.” Chris glanced back at Wes as they headed towards the parking lot. “Hell, I reckon he likes it too.”

“I’m sorry you lost, but you played a good game,” Sam offered as she fell into step beside him.

Chris shrugged. “Win some, lose some. Though I hate that it was so close like that. I could almost taste that ‘W.’”

“How about you taste some Chinese?” Wes offered. “That usually cheers you right up.”

“True that,” Chris agreed. “Chef Cao’s gonna rue the all-you-can-eat buffet offer by the time I’m done with it.”

*

September—Saturday Night

Chef Cao’s, Bryan, Texas

S A M A N T H A

Samantha watched in
shocked and slightly horrified amazement as Chris made good on his promise. They occupied a glass-paneled booth at the back of the restaurant, and he must have made at least four trips to the buffet before leaning back and patting his belly.

“How you feeling?” she asked, a little relieved that the general populace surrounding them couldn’t see the carnage of sesame chicken, moo shu pork, and the three bowls of various flavors of ice cream Chris had demolished on his last go-round.

He sighed happily. “You two sure know how to cheer a guy up.”

“Figured an all-you-can-eat Chinese extravaganza would set the world right again,” Wes told him with a smile. “It was a good game.”

“Good ain’t great,” Chris replied, sipping his tea. “And no one said it, but we were all kinda worried Ole Miss would slaughter us out there tonight.”

“Ole Miss has got the best offense in college ball right now,” Wes agreed, popping a piece of honey chicken into his mouth.

“Against the
best
defense—” Sam added, kicking him under the table.

Wes bit back a yelp, glaring at her.

Chris chuckled, shaking his head at Wes’s gaff and Sam’s sharp response. “I swear to God, you two are like two cats in a bathtub. Don’t know if you’re coming or going.”

“I know which I’d rather be doing,” Wes replied.

“Here.” Sam pushed the rest of the honey chicken toward him. “Keep your mouth busy with that.”

And like any college-aged guy, Wes accepted the remainders whole-heartedly, getting down to business.

Chris took a sip of his drink, settling back in the booth. “You never told me how your rifle marksmanship challenge went. How’d it go?”

Sam shrugged, sipping her tea. “Went fine.”

“Fine?” Wes looked at her like she was crazy. “Sam annihilated everyone. It was a thing of beauty.”

Chris broke into a wide smile. “Way to go, Sammy!”

Sam shrugged again, feeling a little embarrassed. “Missed the first shot by about a mile. Did all right after that.”

“You should have seen the rifle she was using,” Wes told Chris as he continued to eat. “The damn thing was nearly as big as her.”

“.50 cal?” Chris asked.

Sam nodded.

“
Sheee-it
,” he drawled with a thick twang. “You’re some kind of girl, Sammy. Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”

“I was raised by a bunch of guys who were all ex-military or cowboys,” she pointed out. “What’d you expect to come out of that scenario? A Barbie-doll-toting cheerleader?”

“Sam?”

They all looked up.

Rita stood next to Alejandro, both of them dressed up like they were going to church in their Sunday best, Rita in a dress and Alejandro in khakis and a button-down. A plump, middle-aged woman with a kind face and a sulky-looking teenage girl stood near them.

“Rita!” Sam said, scooting out of the booth to give her friend a quick hug. “Didn’t know you were here.”

“
Rita!”
Alejandro snapped, looking pissed off. “Let’s go.”

Rita just ignored him, turning instead to introduce the people she was standing with. “Sam, meet my Auntie Lupe, and this is my little coz, Roxy,” she said fondly, ruffling the girl’s hair. “They’re Alejo’s family from Chicago I was telling you about.”

The girl jerked away, irritated, looking at them out of the corner of her eyes. She looked like a real hood rat already, though she was probably only thirteen or fourteen, wearing heavy makeup, lip liner, and large gold earrings. She had on a boxy plaid button-up with a giant chip on her shoulder, trying to come across all hard.

Sam shook hands with Alejandro’s mother, studiously ignoring his white-hot glare as she gave Lupe her best smile. “I’m Sam Wyatt, ma’am. Pleased to meet you.”

“Auntie, Sam is with us in the ROTC,” Rita explained. “She’s doing the Ranger Challenge next month with Alejo.”

“No, she’s not,” Alejandro argued, breaking his stony silence. “That hasn’t been decided.”

Rita rolled her eyes. “Man, you’re
loco
if you think she hasn’t made it already after today’s performance at the range.”

“You’re the girl Rita’s been telling us about?” Auntie Lupe asked with a broad smile. “She said you beat all the boys today. Even our Alejo.”

Sam colored, though she felt a spike of pleasure at Alejandro’s wince.

Eat your heart out.

“I’m Wes Elliott, and this is Chris Fields,” Wes introduced. “Great job at the pistol range today,” he said to Rita. “You’re a natural.”

“Why, thank you,” Rita said with a toothy smile. “See, Auntie? All that banging came to good use,” she joked, nudging her Aunt playfully as the older woman slapped her arm, sending her a chastising look.

“You’re a football player, right? I’m sorry to hear you guys lost, man,” Alejandro said with a short nod to Chris. “I heard it was a great game though.”

“Thanks,” Chris acknowledged. “I thought I’d drown my sorrows in Chinese food,” he joked. “You folks in town for long?” he asked, gesturing at Lupe and Roxy.

“Just the weekend,” Auntie Lupe explained. “We wanted to see Alejo for the Ranger Challenge in October, but my mother’s sick in Mexico, so we’re driving down to see her. Thought we’d stop here first.”

“Good call,” Chris agreed. “Besides, this year there’ll be full coverage of the Challenge by Wes here. I’m sure you’ll get to see a lot of great photos from the event.”

Wes put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure I get plenty of photos of Sam, Rita, and Alejandro,” he added genially, though Sam saw Alejandro’s eyes narrow on him.

“You guys have a great night,” Rita murmured, glancing between her and Wes and Chris, a coy little smile curving her mouth. Sam knew right then and there she’d never hear the end of this little run-in. “Auntie Lupe—let’s get you back to the inn. I know you guys have an early drive tomorrow.”

“Nice meeting you.”

Alejandro was the first out, holding the door open for his mother and sister. Funny to see him act like a gentleman, a good son and a big brother when all Sam had witnessed prior to this point was him being a jerk and an asshole.

Rita smiled at Wes and Chris before saying, “Nice meeting you two. Let’s all hang out sometime—compare notes on Sam!” She winked conspiratorially before disappearing out the front door.

“Oh, brother,” Sam groaned as they sat back down.

“Is she your roommate or something?” Chris asked.

“Worse,” Sam replied. “She’s my best friend.”

September—Saturday, Late Night

Wes and Chris’s Apartment, Texas A&M

W E S L E Y

I
t had been
one helluva long day. He could count on one hand the number of times in his life he’d intentionally been awake at 5:00 a.m., and not just because he’d stayed out partying the whole night before. Two of those times had been for ROTC training exercises, and as Wes looked over at Samantha, her head lolling on his sofa, he thought all over again about how damn impressive this girl was.

She worked her ass off, and even though she must be as dead tired as he was, if not more so, she played the good sport when Chris asked her over to watch a movie with them after dinner, insisting he’d just be depressed otherwise. Wes could see she was trying hard to stay awake. But when his eyes dropped to Chris, asleep on her lap, he smirked. Chris was already far gone and dead to the world.

“He’s passed out, you know,” Wes told her, gesturing toward Chris.

Sam glanced down at him, realizing he was out cold, mouth open, drooling a little on her jeans.

“Good grief.” She rolled her eyes. “We just started
The Fifth Element
. He went on and on about wanting to watch it.”

“If he can’t stay up to watch Milla Jovovich wearing a bandage for an outfit, he’s down for the count, darlin’,” Wes pointed out with a soft chuckle, his thoughts meandering toward what Sam might look like in that ridiculously skimpy outfit. “Besides, the guy’s been out on that field pushing men around the size of ox. Can’t blame the poor bastard for being wiped out.”

A wide yawn escaped her. Sam shot him a rueful glance before gently lifting Chris’s head from her lap, sliding quickly out from under his big frame. She replaced her lap with a throw pillow as Chris grunted and shifted, not waking as he turned his back to them on the sofa.

“I’m gonna head home,” Sam told Wes, stretching her arms over her head, the smooth skin of her belly showing where her shirt rode up. “I’m ready to pass out myself.”

“It’s late,” Wes commented, wishing he could convince her to stay in his bed again—except this time, with him in it. But as he stood and got a good look at her face, he saw the tired in her eyes. “I’ll take you back.”

“I can walk—it’s fine,” Sam replied, letting out another big yawn as she shrugged into her jacket.

“It’s after midnight, Sammy,” Wes said with a frown. “No way am I letting you walk home alone.”

She tossed him an amused look as she pulled her hair from the collar. “You know I can handle myself.”

“Maybe I’m trying to save the poor drunken asshole who tries to give you a hard time from getting his face kicked in,” Wes pointed out smoothly. He knew Sam didn’t need the hand-holding, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give it to her.

“Well, aren’t you kind?” she drawled with a smile as she opened the door.

“Never been accused of that before,” he replied, following her out.

It was a clear night. Stars spread out across the vast, velvet sky, shimmering and winking like loose diamonds. The breeze brought a heady tendril of Sam’s scent across his nose, and Wes stepped closer to her as they walked toward his building’s parking lot.
Damn
, he was in trouble when just the scent of a woman could turn him sideways.

“You mind motorcycles?” he asked, pushing his hand into his pocket for his keys.

Sam grinned over her shoulder at him. “I
love
motorcycles.”