Midsummer Sweetheart (14 page)

She raised her eyebrows in surprise and tilted her head to the side, and her smile seemed a little brighter, a little less sad and worried.

“The whole day,” she repeated, searching his eyes. “Okay.”

He stood up without letting go of her hand, turning it over carefully and pressing his lips against her palm.

“Okay,” he breathed.

She gently withdrew her hand then turned without another word. When she was a few yards away, she turned and lifted her hand in a small wave. He raised his hand back, wishing she would suddenly run back to him, into his arms.
Don’t go yet.
Stay with me a little longer, Katrin
. He watched her walk away into the setting sun to find her friends.

ENTRE’ACTE

Hope you found your nurse friend and Dr. Cassanova.

Hope to God he didn’t have a panic attack.

–M

***

Yes, I did.

No, he didn’t.

But, I think he strained his chest working at the clinic this morning.

Think I should offer him a therapeutic massage?

–Ӓ

***

If you do, I bet he “strains” his you-know-what next.

NO.

–M

***

You are fresh,
Minste
.

I thought we established I’m not that kind of girl.

–Ӓ

***

Kinda gave me hope at the end there,
Ӓlskling
.

***

You’re very naughty,
Minste
.

Hope it’s sunny on Sunday.

By the way, what are we doing?

***

Thought we’d explore.

Probably Flathead or Wild Horse.

(Or your bedroom.)

***

You could use a little fresh air.

See you in three days.

***

I’m a good tour guide.

But, fair warning, I plan to feel very panicky.

***

J

***

Pack a change of clothes just in case.

(Or don’t. That’s fine with me.)

Either way, wear sensible shoes.

***

Tomorrow.

J

***

Tomorrow.

J

Söta drömmar,
Ӓlskling
.

CHAPTER 8

Katrin waited on the porch swing, looking back through the series of texts they had swapped during the week, a small backpack next to her feet, pushing back and forth against the porch floor distractedly with the toe of her sneaker.

It was too chilly for the hot pink, short-sleeved, scoop-neck t-shirt that fit tightly over her fuller breasts but she didn’t care. If José’s double-take on the stairs this morning was any indication, it was the right choice for Erik Lindstrom. She’d grabbed a windbreaker and smiled to herself, reasoning that the old jeans and sneakers she was also wearing more than balanced out the curviness of her top. A girl was allowed to have a little fun, right?

She hopped off the swing for a moment, digging around in her purse for the postcard she’d written to her mother and then popped it in the mailbox, jauntily flicking the little red flag up with a grin. She had spoken to her mother the day before and was relieved to hear that Wade hadn’t been back around bothering her, and hadn’t been seen by Kristian and Ingrid either, which meant she and her mother could just have a nice catch-up about life in general.

“You’re liking it up there, Katrin Marie?”

“Mom, you have to come up! It’s so lovely. We could have tea, and they have these concerts in the park. We could have a girl’s weekend!”

“You have to send me some pictures over the e-mail, honey.”

“I’ll send you a postcard!”

“Even better!”

She sat back down on the swing and gave herself a little push, loving the feeling of a small breeze on her face. Erik would be here any minute.

Erik Lindstrom.
If she thought he had dominated her thoughts the week before, that was nothing compared to the week after they’d kissed. She’d find herself labeling files or stapling handouts, and suddenly be miles away, back in Slighter Park, kissing Erik. Aside from being incredibly distracting, her feelings were proving to be increasingly confusing.

She
liked
Erik. She felt safe around him, protected. But, it wasn’t just that. She genuinely liked him. The way he had driven her up to Skidoo as a favor to Jenny and Ing. His love of books and his passion when discussing them. His words during their Wickham-Willoughby debate; deep inside, Erik had rules and standards about love…incredibly romantic ones, Katrin decided, whether he wanted to acknowledge them or not. She loved the way his texts were funny and playful, but still a little edgy and hungry. The way he made her feel whenever he looked at her. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. She liked him a lot.

If she could leave her growing feelings for him at the proverbial door—if she didn’t expect or demand a commitment from him—she was certain that he would willingly be her lover. Not unlike the characters in
Lady Chatterley’s Lover
, Erik seemed comforted by connecting physically, which was why she had kissed him after his panic attack. As long as a relationship had no emotional potential, he wanted it, maybe even longed for it. She wondered, during their long hours apart, what had happened in his life to scare him so much.

Troubling to Katrin was that she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t considering an affair with him, which confused her and made her feel disappointed in herself. She wasn’t
easy
. Even sleeping with Wade had weighed heavily on her heart, and had continued to trouble her until he had proposed to her. Only within the confines of a real commitment did she truly begin to enjoy the full extent of their physical relationship.

She wrinkled her nose at the word
enjoy
. She wasn’t totally sure she had ever completely
enjoyed
their physical relationship. Wade got in, got off, got out. She wondered, as she pictured Erik Lindstrom’s hard body in her head, if a different partner might yield a different experience. Part of her wouldn’t mind finding out.

No! You’re not that kind of girl.
She took a deep breath, the intoxicating fantasies ebbing away with a bracing dose of reality.
She wasn’t the sort of girl to give away her virtue lightly. She didn’t know how to be that girl or how to live like that. Katrin was a nice girl, the marrying kind.

Which meant that there were only two options: the first was that she and Erik stay friends, and she wouldn’t repeat her forward behavior from last Sunday or indulge the sweet fantasies that tortured her. The second option wasn’t even worth considering because it was so unlikely; Erik would change into the sort of man who could offer her his heart.

Hmm
, she concluded, surprised by the intensity of her regret at the inevitable answer:
Friends it is. And make sure he knows it.

***

Erik waited with annoyance for the stoplight to change, irritated that even a few minutes of his day with Katrin should be stolen. After poring over various maps and using the well-honed skills he had developed working as a tour guide for his father, he was confident he had created a perfect day. A boat ride, a hike, and some downtime with a picnic lunch.

He’d definitely planned the day with the hope of getting a little more intimate with Katrin. He fully acknowledged that it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with her but now that they’d kissed, he couldn’t get her out of his head. In all quiet moments, of which there were many while training, his mind turned to her.

During their week apart he had thought about that mini panic attack more than once, and it bothered him that Katrin’s dreams had affected him so personally. He had never felt that intense rush of emotions for any other woman, but Erik didn’t want her to stay singular and separate in his mind; he didn’t want her to be special.

Erik had only come up with one solution to evict her: he needed to have sex with her to get her out of his system. That way he could group her more efficiently with the other women he had meaninglessly romanced throughout his life. His present longing for her was messing with his head, but he refused to admit it was anything more than a manifestation of his
physical
hunger, and that it would disappear the instant he satisfied it.

If she hadn’t leaned over and kissed him on Sunday night, he may never have allowed his thoughts to rampage in this direction, despite his ever-increasing attraction to her. She had completely surprised him by initiating that kiss. Countless times throughout the day he’d recalled the touch of her lips on his, the warm, smooth skin of her back under his fingertips, the way her hands held his face—the memories assaulted him constantly.

Yes. One thing was clear. He had to bed her, with no strings attached. But, how?

Erik had no interest in hurting her; as far as women went, he liked her. Quite a lot. Just not enough to offer her more than a casual relationship. Plus, Erik had no interest in jeopardizing the relationships they had in common if she started wanting more from him and things went south between them. Ingrid’s warning to stay away from Kat rang in his head, a warning of how messy things would get if he hurt her.

He had almost despaired of a solution for convincing Kat to sleep with him with no-strings-attached until something very elementary dawned on him: Most women needed a casual transition lover to help them segue from one failed meaningful relationship to a new one. Of course! What Kat needed was a Rebound Fling!

He warmed up to the idea quickly, imagining her relief to move on to the rebound phase so that she could find her “forever guy” that much quicker. Surely she would see the logic in it, because she was attracted to him too. If they were both adults about it, they could each get something they needed from each other without any messy entanglements.

Now, in the back of his mind, in an annoying place raining on his parade and unwilling to jump on the “fling” bandwagon, he had to acknowledge the unlikely possibility that she would stick to an outdated, and incredibly inconvenient, moral high ground. That she’d only let him have her body if he offered his heart in exchange. But Erik hoped that if he clearly outlined his plan, she would acknowledge the merits of involving only the organs found conveniently south of the heart.

He turned onto her street and felt his heart flip-flop like a fish on a dock gasping for air. He swallowed, narrowing his eyes in desperation, willing his heart to stay impenetrable. Falling for her emotionally was not an option, and he tried wildly to close his heart against any possible breach; any blonde, dimpled Trojan horse in the form of Katrin Svenson.

They could be friends, or they could be lovers. Those were only two options, and with his well-designed plan of attack, Erik hoped she would agree with him to pursue the latter.

***

Convinced she could only expect friendship from Erik, Katrin felt very betrayed when her heart leapt at the sight of his car pulling into the driveway. She jumped off the swing, scooped up her bag, and sprinted to his car with a cheerful wave. Erik jumped out of the car with surprising grace for such a large man and caught her around the waist with one corded arm.

“
Ӓlskling
,” he smiled, pulling her up against his body.

Happiness erupted inside of her, and a beaming smile burst across her face, concealing nothing. “
Minste
.”

He raised his eyebrows suggestively at her, looking down at her breasts, which were crushed against his chest, offering a tantalizing view of her cleavage from where he stood a foot over her head. “Nice.”

Katrin drew back from him, a teasing grin making her cheeks cave in. “Behave.”

“We’ll see…” Erik winked, releasing her.

He took her bag and threw it in the backseat as she settled into the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt and wishing she wasn’t so damn transparent.
Friends, Katrin. Remember? There are no other options for now.

She smiled brightly. “So, where are we off to?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I know it’s not my bedroom.”

“Yes. Well, you took my first choice out of the running by insisting on fresh air so you’ll just have to wait and let the day unfold. How about that?”

Katrin settled back in her seat, willing her mouth not to turn up in approval. She wasn’t a huge fan of surprises, but she was strangely comfortable with Erik in charge.

“Okay.”

She glanced over at him and goose bumps popped up on her arms. He was too gorgeous. He’d been out in the sun, because he had a pretty decent tan now that was set off by a crisp white golf shirt. A gold watch on his wrist was held on with a light brown leather strap and she wished she could reach over and touch it. She knew it would be warm, and for one insane moment she was jealous of that watch strap which spent all day, every day pressed against his heartbeat.

She flicked her glance up to his face and smiled. His hair was cut short in that crew-cut style, but he’d smoothed it out with some gel or mousse or something, and it looked damp even though it couldn’t be after driving all the way from Kalispell. He was wearing aviator glasses with metal frames.
Old school. Like Top Gun. Like a fighter pilot, or a—

“So, do I pass inspection?”

Her mouth dropped open, and she jerked her head to face forward, feeling her face flush with heat.
How embarrassing to be caught fantasizing!
“Mm-hm.”

Peripherally, she could see him grinning as he looked over at her twice in quick succession. “Oh, come on. You can check me out all you want. Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not.” She was.

“Really?”

“Really,” she insisted, squirming. “You’re getting a tan.”

“Yep. Little one.”

“Been outdoors a lot?”

“A little,” he replied smiling askance. “I did a couple of ride-alongs this week, which was sort of cool. Put a little bit of my training into action.”

“You know? I don’t actually know what you do.”