Eric took a step then froze. Did he spot a movement on her deck? He remained motionless and watched. Nothing happened. Exhaustion and frustration must produce hallucinations. He gave the house a final glance, and took another stride.
A shift in shadows once more caught his attention. He stopped again and focused through the hazy vapors. An outline of someone stood on her deck, but he didn’t know if the person was Darla. It might be, so why go by there if he didn’t want to meet up with her again? He made a sharp turn to cut in between two houses, prepared to finish his journey on the road. No more taking gambles in his life. He was done.
****
Darla slid open the door and stepped outside. In an instant, her bare feet were wet from the rain’s residue streaming across the deck. She treaded carefully upon the wooden planks until she reached the edge and leaned over the rail to stare into the mist, listening to the rumble of waves.
A frosty breeze followed the storm, triggering her body to shiver. Darla didn’t like the cold, but tonight the nippiness held a certain allure. She inhaled deeply to swallow a bite of bitter air. Eyes closed, she wished she’d fall asleep and stay asleep for a week. Too many things weighed on her mind. The murder, the possibility of a killer living near—her ex.
The guy was the love of her life. He’d made promises, promises that turned into lies. The harsh reality proved to be clear. As of tonight, he was a married man. Then there was Eric. What were the odds she’d meet him on the evening of her former boyfriend’s wedding? If nothing else, their encounter was a pleasant diversion from the disappointment she’d suffered. She needed to keep their meeting in a “distraction” perspective, although she didn’t want to.
A sudden heavy gust blew right through her. The thin pajama bottoms and tank top offered no protection against the chill. Her feet had already converted into blocks of ice. Enough invigoration. She turned to go inside.
“Darla?”
Darla whipped around and peered over the edge of the rail.
“That’s your name, right?” Shane climbed the steps to her deck.
Darla clenched her fists. Shane was a good-looking guy, but his association with Eric Boyd was what expanded her heart. And Eric wasn’t with Shane.
“Why are you out this late?”
Shane chuckled. “I manage musicians. I never sleep.” He climbed to the top of the deck and stopped near her. “Hey, I think I know where you might’ve seen me. You’re a walker, aren’t you? You walk the beaches path?”
“Every morning.”
“Me too. Actually I’m a runner. Sometimes I crash at Eric’s place and I like to go for an early jog. I bet we’ve seen each other then.” He placed his hands on his hips. “Speaking of Eric, you two didn’t hook up?”
Darla glanced from side to side before she returned to Shane. “You don’t see him here, do you?”
“Ah, touchy, aren’t we?” He held Darla’s stare. “It’s surprising he didn’t find his way back to you. That’s all.”
Darla dropped her gaze and leaned against the rail, arms crossed over her middle. “He seemed pretty torn up about the loss of a friend.”
“He is. But if his sight is set on you, the death of someone close isn’t going to stop him.”
Her eyes ripped back to Shane. “That’s an awful thing to say.”
Shane’s mouth lifted into an almost serene smile. “I’m aware I’m making him sound coldhearted, and he’s not really. You have to understand the world he lives in is completely different from ours. His crowd bends the rules beyond the realms of acceptability sometimes, at least in the way normal people view things.”
“I suppose, but I still don’t get it.”
“Me either.” Shane shook his head. “You seem like a nice girl. Maybe it’d be in your best interest to steer clear of the guy.”
“I don’t believe that’s going to be a problem.” Darla pushed off the banister, running her hands up and down her bare arms.
“Cold?”
She nodded. “The storm made it feel like winter is here again.”
He shook out of his jacket and draped it across Darla’s shoulders. She almost refused the offer, wanting to remove the coat, and hand it back to him. But his body heat generated from the inside of the material was too enticing. Shane slid his palms over her covered arms, then drew the lapels together.
“Regardless of how you perceive the situation with Eric, he’ll be around.” Shane’s tone almost held a hint of warning as he dropped his hands.
“He won’t. We’re too different.”
Shane chuckled and nodded toward the beach. “Are you?”
Darla followed his direction to capture a blue stare piercing into her. She sucked in a gulp of air with a groan. “Oh no.” Her palms cupped her warming cheeks as she returned Eric’s unreadable look.
Shane bent closer to her and spoke low enough so that only she could hear. “What’d I tell you?”
Darla ignored him and continued to watch Eric. What were the odds two men would show up at the same time? In the middle of the night, no less. The love gods must hate her.
“Thought you’d gone home.” Eric spoke to Shane, though his eyes remained on Darla.
“Too upset to sleep. I needed to walk, and the shore was inviting.”
“I hear you. I’m functioning on caffeine and nicotine overload. The need to get close to nature is necessary so I don’t explode.” Eric paused. “Where are you off to or—?” He sent a sharp nod toward Darla.
“I planned on staying at your place, but I think I’ll go back to my hotel.” Shane glanced at Darla before he stepped down from the staircase. “I’ll be headin’ that way now.” He released a soft chuckle. “You two have a wonderful evening.”
He vanished into the darkness leaving Eric to scowl at her.
Eric finally broke eye contact followed by a solid shake of his head. “Sorry for the interruption.” His voice sounded colder than the icy wind.
A tiny tremor zipped through her veins, then she mentally reminded herself any involvement with the guy would mean swimming into rough waters. “No interruption. I’m just like you guys. I couldn’t sleep and stepped outside for some fresh air. Shane walked by, the same as you.”
“Right. You needed air.” His jaw tightened as he eyed her up and down. “Nice jacket, by the way.” Eric turned away. Pools of eerie streetlights silhouetted his frame. He gazed into the ocean’s darkness, hands thrust into his pockets. He remained stoic, surveying the angry breakers. Waves rushed over the blackened sands and stopped at the tips of his shoes.
Darla stared at him, shocked by the edge in his voice. Did he really think something was going on between her and Shane? And—was he jealous? She might be out of practice, but he acted as if he resented his manager spending time with her. The idea, especially with Shane’s blasé attitude was preposterous.
Darla’s lips twisted as she gazed at him almost innocently. “Does my wearing Shane’s coat bother you?”
****
Hell yes, it bothered him.
But not as much as Shane touching her. He didn’t understand why either. Frustration oozed from every point of Eric’s brain. Fury had overcome him when he’d spied what appeared to be an intimate conversation between his buddy and Darla. After everything he’d learned tonight, plus the loss of someone he loved as a brother, these unwanted—what?—feelings for this woman didn’t make sense.
He’d performed in front of royalty, government officials, and hundreds of thousands of people without sweating a drop. He was known for having ice water flow through his veins. His middle name was control. Yet, here he was. Darla Hennessy somehow had him fighting out of control emotions.
“None of my concern.” His voiced hitched a little. “You might want to rethink getting involved with Shane McIntyre, though. He’s not the best choice for smart girl types.”
Darla laughed.
“Did I say something funny?”
“Kind of.” She carefully stepped down the decks stairs, walked across the wet sand, and stopped next to him.
“Laugh all you want. Ignore my warning.” He lifted a shoulder. “Your call.”
“Warn me, huh?” She was clearly still amused. “He pretty much gave me the same advice about you.”
It was Eric’s turn to laugh. Only it wasn’t a humorous one. “I bet he did.” He kicked at a shell with more force than he intended. “The guy’s a player. You should be careful around him.”
“You’re suggesting he wants to play me?”
A gust of wind lifted her curly locks. She shook the wild mane from her eyes, knocking the jacket to the ground, and revealing a lightly colored top. There was just enough light from the street behind to reveal a faint outline of her pert nipples through the thin material. The superb sight sent a low burning jolt inside his belly, and propelled all thoughts of Shane into obscurity.
“He insinuated you weren’t to be trusted either.”
His gaze remained on her breasts as his mouth curved. “I’m not.”
The dim glow caught her surprised expression. She fidgeted, seemingly struggling for words. “I suppose I’m grateful for your honesty.”
“It has nothing to do with honesty. I just don’t play games.”
Again, she appeared to strain to reply. “So what should I do with this information?” She bent to pick up the coat, swung it over her shoulders, and drew the edges together.
“Dunno.” He shrugged as he turned away. “Do whatever you want.”
****
Darla let out a lengthy breath. She wasn’t sure how to proceed. Maybe the smart move would be for her to bid him good night, walk inside, and go to bed. She jerked the lapels tighter.
He bent to catch her gaze. “Jacket keeping you warm?”
“It helps. But I’m still a little chilly.”
His lips turned into a slow easy smile that was somehow lethal and dreamy at the same time. His accent thickened. “Anything I can do to heat you up?”
“You’re going to offer me another jacket?” Darla managed to maintain his level of intonation.
He took a step closer, leaned forward, and rumbled in a deep, low chuckle. “I know of a few other ways to warm you.” His voice filled with a raspy passion she found startling, alluring. He glided his arm around her waist and dragged her into him, fitting their bodies together. Shane’s jacket slipped from her shoulders again, but she was no longer cold. Eric held her tight, letting her know she couldn’t escape even if she’d wanted to.
In a split second Darla found her insides quivered from need. Her hands automatically floated over his chest until her fingers linked behind his neck. She drew his head down. Their gazes connected.
A corner of his lip lifted, his eyes glittered with a knowing tease. Then his mouth closed over hers. Her mind froze. His lips were firm as he kissed her hard and hungry. His tongue filled the inside of her mouth, stroking, teasing, tasting her with a fierce exploration, carrying her away in his desire. His grip tensed around her to draw her in closer. There would be no barriers with this man. He wouldn’t allow it.
Internal heat roared faster than the storm earlier, searing into every single one of her pores. She craved more. The musky scent of his skin, his mouth, the tobacco taste, the way he held her. She wanted all of him.
Abruptly, he broke the kiss and took a step backward. Darla looked at him, blinking in confusion. Disarmed—naked. Her mind whirled in a jumbled uncertainty. She lifted a hand and touched her burning lips.
His gaze skated across the darkness, and then he returned to her with a wicked smile.
He bent to pick up the coat and brushed away the sand. His eyes twinkled as he wrapped the jacket around her. “Don’t know about you, but I’m a bit overheated after that.”
With a step backward, he flicked his gaze to her one last time before he turned to disappear into the night. “Sleep tight, luv.”
Chapter 7
His world was going to hell. Eric let the door slam behind him as he entered the house. He kicked off his muddy shoes and wrangled out of his jacket, dropping it to the floor, then he walked straight to the bathroom. After a harried search through cabinets and drawers, he found a plastic bottle of antacids. He held the frosted container up to the light fixture. Fuck. Almost empty. The interiors of his gut exploded like a million pound wrecking ball swung inside. He needed something for relief.
Maybe he could drive to the all-night convenience store located several blocks over and pick up some meds along with a pack of cigarettes. He was in dire need of a smoke. Except he was too tired to go anywhere. With a flip of a thumb, he popped the lid, filled his hand with the bottle’s contents, then he shoved the pills into his mouth. He dropped the empty tablet jar back into the drawer, leaned against the bathroom sink, and shook his head.
This evening started out a good one before turning to shit in a hurry. Drake’s death, Dugan’s disappearance, Finn’s revelation, Darla.
Darla. What the hell was he thinking? He’d kissed her. His life took another major plunge, one to where he may never recover. Instead of working on rectifying the situation, his attention stayed on her. If he’d taken the street route as he intended, the kiss wouldn’t have happened.
He had to loop back to check out the person on her deck and satisfy his curiosity. Well, he found satisfaction all right. If he hadn’t kept enough of his sanity to break away after the one kiss, he’d have lost all his senses and taken her on the beach.
And what was she doing letting Shane touch her that way? Eric already had the answer. Shane was a total ass when dealing with women. The two of them together perturbed the hell out of him. Then he wondered why he cared.
He struggled to swallow. The meds morphed into the equivalent of a mouthful of compressed chalk swollen between his jaws. He gulped several times. The mass caught in his throat. Too big to force down.
He fell to his knees and leaned over the toilet. After taking a deep breath through his nose, he tried to exhale in an attempt to dislodge the oversized glob, but he gagged instead. With the edge of his palm placed under his diaphragm, he gave his gut several hard thrusts. The blockage finally broke free. He spit the grit into the commode, and then dissolved into a choking fit.
“You okay?”
Eric looked up.
Blaine stood in his bathroom doorway. His expression appeared wary as he studied Eric. “Sounds like you’re dying in here.”