“I’ll have the double cone dipped in chocolate sauce, please.” Lyle swiveled around to stare at Erica. “You sure you don’t want anything?”
Erica’s mouth watered. Of course she wanted something. “I’ll have a small cup of swirl.”
“Small?” Lyle asked.
Erica’s lips twitched. “Medium. Please.”
“Medium swirl,” he told the cashier. He paid with cash and pocketed his change. He handed her the cup when their ice cream was ready, but not before licking his cone with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old. “I love the Dairy Barn. Do you have any place like this in Denver?”
Erica squeezed into a booth along the window and Lyle sat opposite her. “There’s a local shop with all organic ingredients. Their stuff’s okay, but it’s not this good.”
“Why do people try to make ice cream healthy?” Lyle asked and Erica tried not to smile. She’d wondered the same thing every time she went to the Ice Cream Peddler.
“Don’t know,” she said between bites. “I guess it makes them feel better about eating fattening stuff.”
“They just need to exercise more.”
She eyed him over her cup. “Is that why you’re so skinny? All that running you do?”
“Probably. My mom’s not a big woman and my dad wasn’t either. It’s a combination of good genes and the running.”
“Why do you run?”
He pursed his lips. “I like to run. I’m pretty fast, so I always did track and cross country growing up. I ran in college. It…settles me, I guess. It helps me think clearly and levels me out. You know, it kinda takes the edge off my temper. Does that make sense?”
“Sure. I guess I should start running if it takes the edge off a temper.”
“You? A temper? I don’t believe it,” he joked.
“You don’t seem to have one at all.”
“It’s the running. Besides, you haven’t seen me mad yet.”
When he winked at her, she looked away. Why did he have to be so nice to her and pretend as if he hadn’t kissed her silly? Why wasn’t he demanding to know why she’d freaked out and run away? She couldn’t figure him out at all.
“Can I ask you a question?” he said.
Here we go
, she thought. He wasn’t so far from normal after all. Her stomach clenched as she said, “Go ahead.”
“How did you become such a good cook?”
She choked out a laugh.
“Something funny?” he asked.
“No. You just surprise me, that’s all.” She licked her spoon and set the half empty cup on the table. “If I wanted to eat, I had to cook. I’m sure Jack told you our dad was a drunk. I figured if I wanted him to stay alive, I’d better keep some food in his stomach.”
“Did your mom teach you before she died?”
“No. I made a lot of sandwiches at first, but even a kid gets tired of peanut butter and jelly. I experimented with whatever we happened to have. Eventually, I started to enjoy coming up with new meals and mixing ingredients.” She picked up her cup but didn’t take a bite. “My cooking was the only thing he ever complimented me on.” She said it before she knew the words were out of her mouth.
“Do you still enjoy it?”
She shrugged and spooned up more ice cream, thankful he hadn’t asked something more personal. “I guess. Jack needs to eat and he sure doesn’t know how to cook. If it wasn’t for me, he’d eat every meal at a restaurant.”
“Have you thought about getting a job as a cook back in Denver?”
Erica swallowed a bite and hoped it cooled the anger boiling in her gut. Lyle obviously thought she should be doing more with her life than taking care of Jack. But could she blame him when she’d thought that herself? “I’m not that good.”
“That’s not what I hear or what I’ve tasted. Your lasagna was excellent. I don’t think Olivia would waste her time learning from you if you weren’t.”
“She just wants to sleep with my brother.” An unexpected wave of guilt hit Erica. She’d spent the evening slowly starting to like Olivia. Yes, Olivia wanted to sleep with Jack, but she also wanted to help. The blond bimbo was tougher than she looked. “But I think she’ll catch on eventually.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Who does the cooking at your place?” Erica asked. She tried to imagine Lyle and Olivia cooking and eating meals together, but a clear image wouldn’t form.
“Nobody. We just share space. Every once in a while we’ll split a pizza or something, but neither one of us is there much.”
“Do you cook?”
“A little. When I have to. My mom made sure we knew the basics, but it’s just me, so cooking usually means heating up something in the microwave.” He popped the end of the cone in his mouth at the same time she licked the last of her ice cream.
They watched each other over the sticky tabletop. Erica was the first to look away. Lyle’s stare held too much intensity. He was always looking at her in a way that made her feel naked. “Do you think they’re done?” she asked.
“Done what?”
“Having sex?”
Lyle laughed. “Do you really think that’s what they’re doing?”
“If my brother has his way, yes. You don’t?”
He lifted his shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe. Do you want to give them some more time in case they are? We could go for a drive or something.”
Oh, no. She’d rather walk in on Jack and Olivia than be alone with him on a dark road. “No, no. I’m tired enough to chance it.”
“Okay.” Lyle edged out of the booth and walked to the door with his hand on her lower back. Erica felt every one of his fingers as they seared into her skin.
He opened the passenger door for her and waited until she’d settled inside before closing the door and walking around to his side. When he got in, her nerves sprung back to life. The sun had set and the car seemed too small and quiet in the dark.
“Is this music okay?” he asked.
She recognized the country tune the local station liked to play. “Sure, it’s fine.”
“I can change it if you want.”
“No. I like this song.”
Without thinking, she hummed along. Before she knew it, she was singing along, enjoying the song about a girl and a boy riding alone in a truck. They were going parking, ending up in the back seat while a guitar played over what must have been their bittersweet first time. When they pulled along the entrance to the property, Lyle slowed the car and stared at Erica, his face serious.
“What?” she said. “Do I have something on my face?”
“You have a beautiful voice. I could listen to you all night.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize I was singing.”
“Why are you sorry? You’re better than the radio.” He reached over and flicked the dial to off.
“What are you doing?” she asked, suddenly panicked.
“Sing for me, Erica. Sing that song you always sing. The one about the tree and the river.”
“What? No.”
He reached over and settled his hand on her leg. “Please?”
“Lyle, I was just singing along. I don’t sing by myself.”
He parked the SUV next to the fence by the house. “I’ve heard you with your guitar. You’re too good not to share. Please? One chorus. Sing that song you made up.”
“No. I…I can’t.”
His hand was still on her leg. When he shifted to face her, he moved it to the console between them. “Are you going to let me kiss you again?”
She was going to throw up all that ice cream she just ate. First he wanted her to sing for him and then he actually asked if she would let him kiss her? “I…I’m not sure why you’d want to.”
“Are you kidding?” He reached out and grabbed a lock of her hair. He twirled it between his fingers. “Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?”
“I don’t know why you’re even asking. What am I supposed to say?”
“You say yes if you want me to and no if you don’t.” He gave her hair a gentle yank before letting go. “I sure hope you say yes.”
“You’re not supposed to ask. You’re supposed to just do it.”
“That’s what I did last time and you ran away from me.”
“Last time felt like more than a kiss.”
He lifted the corner of his mouth and his dimples popped out. Her finger itched to run over that delicate skin. “You’re sure right about that. It did feel like more than a kiss. If I scared you, or made you feel pressured, I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry about the kiss. I want to kiss you again, but that’s all I’ll do is kiss you until you’re ready for more.”
Her heart clanged against her ribcage, fighting like hell to get out. She should have put her hand on the door and lunged from the truck, she should have used her acid tongue to make him never want to kiss her or be around her again, but her body took over. She felt herself inching closer, meeting him halfway over the console. He smelled like the sugar cone he’d just eaten and she wanted to taste that cone more than she wanted anything else in the world.
“Erica…” Her name fell from his lips seconds before he pressed them to hers. It was as if he had magic in those soft, smooth lips. They cruised over hers, probing, stroking until she melted against him and let him lead. For such a skinny man, his fingers felt like lead against her neck as he pulled her closer, angled her so his mouth fit over hers perfectly.
Everything in her felt full; her breasts, her stomach, and her most intimate place throbbed to the same beat as her pulse. If it hadn’t been for the console, he would have pulled her onto his lap and she’d have gone. The feel of the sharp corner digging into her side brought sanity back little by little, millisecond by millisecond, centimeter by centimeter. They both let out a breath as their lips parted.
“Yep,” he finally said with his lips against her ear, “I’m gonna want to do that again. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Lyle.” His name was all she could say, all she could think when he slowly let her go and she slumped against his soft leather seat. “I can’t think.”
“Go inside. They’ll be time for thinking later.” As she reached for the handle that would let her escape, he said, “But, Erica, we’re not done. Whatever it is that makes you want to run, we’ll deal with it. I’ll do whatever I have to do, I’ll wait as long as you need me to, but this is the beginning of something, not the end.”
It sounded like a threat. Surely something that made her throat close and her breath hitch had to be a threat. She would have told him to go to hell if she hadn’t seen Olivia standing on the porch with her bag. The look on her face told Erica she knew darn well what had just happened in Lyle’s truck.
“I guess we’ll see,” she said and walked back to her house.
“I’ll be back tomorrow night,” Olivia said when she passed.
Whatever, Erica thought. She had to get through the night first.
Chapter 33
Jill placed her third call of the day to Olivia. As the phone rang and rang, her heart sank. She never should have told Olivia she and Ty were already married. Ty hadn’t gotten mad. She should have known her unflappable husband would never lose his temper over something that had her so upset. He’d spent that night convincing her she’d had no choice and making love to her as if they didn’t have a care in the world. If only she could feel the same.
Lyle she could trust not to tell; Olivia, not so much. The fact that she wasn’t answering Jill’s calls could only mean one thing: she’d spilled the beans. It was only a matter of time before the jig was up.
She tucked the phone into her pocket and turned around to go back inside the restaurant when she felt it vibrate. She fished it out and let out a huge breath when Olivia’s name appeared on the screen. “Where have you been?” Jill demanded.
“Sorry. I left the phone in my car to charge during my shift. What’s up? You’ve called me, like, a million times since this morning.”
“Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you picked up your dress.”
“You know I picked up my dress. I told you that weeks ago.”
“It still fits?”
“Yes. I’ve got the shoes, that cute little clutch bag we ordered came a few days ago, and I’ve already picked out my outfit for the rehearsal dinner. I’m way ahead of schedule.”
Jill heard Olivia’s clunker shift into second gear and knew she was on the road. “Sorry for doubting you.”
“You’re not, because that’s not why you called. Lyle told me you called him to make sure he hadn’t said anything and that you were worried I would say something. I told you before I’m not going to tell anyone. I would never do that to you, Jill.”
“I know you wouldn’t. Not on purpose anyway.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“You know what I mean. Sometimes stuff slips out.”
“Well it hasn’t and it won’t, so stop worrying.”
“Okay. I trust you. I know you know what a big deal this is and I know you wouldn’t put me in the position to disappoint my parents.”
“Please. Enough. I hear you loud and clear. I know nothing.”
“Okay.” There wasn’t anything more she could say. Olivia had to know what a disaster it would be for the truth to come out. “What’s going on with you? Any progress with the blind guy?”
“Stop calling him that. His name is Jack.”
Interesting. Olivia’s knee-jerk defense of ‘Jack’ meant there was definitely something going on. “Fine. What’s going on with Jack?”