“She’s building a nest,” Eric whispered. “Another home.”
“There’s Grandpa,” Jay exclaimed and pointed.
Eric looked to the far end of the yard where his father bent down to pick up a length of twig he broke into manageable, bird sized pieces he then tossed over by the pine tree.
“You keep watching. I’ll be right back.”
The boy didn’t have to be told twice. “Okay. But where are you going?”
“To make a phone call, Jay. To make a phone call.”
Chapter Eight
Elyse was mildly surprised and tremendously pleased when Eric called to ask her for a date.
The dinner he suggested at the small Italian restaurant turned out to have the best lasagna she’d ever tasted, a smooth and tangy Chianti, and a sweetly delicate tiramisu to die for. All served and enjoyed while they shared a quiet booth lit by the romantic glow of a single slow burning candle.
What was supposed to be a movie after—her choice, Eric insisted—became three hours of talking about themselves and, more importantly, learning about each other. After a while, she found herself revealing events from her past she’d never shared with anyone, ever.
“The divorce from Vince was beyond messy. Getting through it with our trust fund intact was no easy feat. Being Angela’s guardian at the time, keeping my eye on how I needed to preserve my little sister’s future made all the difference.”
“Sorry you had to go through that.”
“Don’t be. His loss. Certainly not mine.”
He couldn’t let it go at that. “It’s still gotta hurt.”
“Some wounds are less visible than others,” she conceded.
“But cut just as deeply. And you took back your maiden name after the divorce. That had to go a ways toward the healing.”
“I never gave it up. Aside from that, bottom line, the jerk is a never more in my life. He knows now that he can’t get his hands on our money. He’s quit trying.”
“Why do I get the feeling the high powered lawyer I’ve heard so much about had something to do with his giving up?”
“That and a nasty confrontation I’d rather not talk about.”
“Fair enough.” He refilled their wine glasses and lifted his in a toast. “To the demise of Vince in your life.”
“Here, here.” One sip and she set her glass aside.
He did the same. “I need to remember I’m the driver tonight. There are huge penalties for drunk driving.”
“A couple glasses of wine can’t possibly constitute being drunk.”
“You’d be surprised. Even the slightest impairment—alcohol related or not—has the potential to cause an accident.”
“You sound as if you speak from experience.”
“Personal experience. You could say that.”
“Have you ever been arrested for—”
“Drunk driving. No. I work for the other side.”
“I don’t understand. You’re not a police officer.”
He shook his head. “I used to be. It was the one element in our life that my late wife didn’t particularly care for. Jan used to say my real job was to come home safe to her and Jay after every shift.” He lifted his head on a sigh. “A lot of family members say that. Especially wives.”
“I don’t doubt it. How awful is that, having to worry about losing a loved one just for doing their job?”
“She didn’t understand my need to be a cop.”
“It’s a need you have, not a profession?”
“Taking care of people, helping someone in trouble isn’t a nine-to-five proposition. It’s the kind of thing I’ve done all my life.”
“Right wrongs?”
“I’d like to think so.” He looked directly at her, no very nearly through her, and she caught a breath. “Make sure—or try to help make sure people who deserve it have a better life.”
“What is it you do now?” Her voice sounded small and insignificant compared to his and the things he’d been saying. She held another breath after she asked, afraid the answer would be international spy or government agent. Some job involving even worse danger or risk than police work.
“Formally, I’m an accident reconstruction specialist.”
“Hmmmm.”
That didn’t sound like risk.
Her exhale was so long and loud he shot her a hasty look. “You okay?”
She gave him a weak smile. “I’m fine.”
Except for all of a sudden the idea of Eric Matthews
not
being in her life had scared the heck out of her and caused her heart to race at such an accelerated pace it had yet to return to normal. “What is it you do? Exactly?”
“I go to the scene of a car crash, for instance. Diagram what I see, the position of the vehicles, road conditions and such, then try to give what amounts to my best educated guess of how and why it happened.”
She sat forward. “Best guess. Not absolute?”
“I don’t believe in absolutes.” He reached across the table with both hands to cover hers. “I should say I didn’t used to but, after tonight, rather after being with you tonight, I may have to change my mind. Because I’m absolutely sure I want to see you again.”
“Me too,” she managed as his gentle touch caused all her senses to accelerate. It was official, her heartbeat didn’t stand a chance.
“Excuse me, folks.” They looked up as the hostess approached. “We’re going to be closing in a few moments, so if you wouldn’t mind—” She left the sentence hanging with a polite smile as she moved on to one other occupied table.
“Guess that means we have to leave.” Breaking contact which she immediately missed, Eric stood and came around to her side of the booth.
“Guess so.” She took the hand he offered and rose. “I had a wonderful time.”
“Even though we never did make it to the movie you suggested?”
“This was better.”
“I agree.”
Nice as it was, the warmth of his palm on her back as they walked to the front did nothing to salve the depth of her disappointment their time together was about to end.
She waited by the door while he settled their bill, then in no time he pulled his SUV to a stop in her driveway and killed the engine. Without so much as an attempt by him at a good night kiss, they made their way up the sidewalk to her door.
“Quite a place you have here.” He indicated the Tudor style residence Elyse called home though she had yet to feel fully comfortable in it.
A shrug hid her true feelings. “It’s paid for.”
Head tipped back to survey the vast two story house, he let out a low whistle. “Are you kidding me? Must be nice.”
She followed his gaze, not sure what was such a big deal about the cumbersome and unfriendly structure. “Not through my efforts. That’s for sure.”
“You didn’t buy it?”
Her initial answer was a head shake. “All this decorative timbering and ornate double door is not exactly my style. Our parents liked it for a summer home or something. Probably more like a tax shelter.” She was quiet for a moment, grateful he didn’t press for details. “Their wealth was about the only thing those two shared willingly with us. And I have an idea I got possession of this only because that’s how my grandfather’s law firm set up our trust.”
As the remnants of a warm evening breeze washed over her face, she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. The man fairly towered over her, large imposing figure and all. Yet, more significant, she didn’t feel overpowered or the least bit intimidated. Climbing three broad steps in perfect sync, they reached the porch. Keys in hand, she unlocked the door.
When she returned the key-ring to her purse, he grasped her wrist to turn her toward him then kept possession of her hands. “It must have been hard. Growing up that way.”
“Yes, well. It’s not fair of me to bring up unhappy issues from my distant past. What you’re dealing with is much more important.”
“Not necessarily. As you alluded to at the restaurant, some losses are never seen never brought into the open. Never see the light of day.” His voice became thick with a combination of sorrow and discomfort. “I’ve—um—” He whooshed out a breath and stared down at her. “Chris told me about the—we were talking about Angela,” he hurried on. “And the relationship the two of them have built. No secrets.” As it had that day at the school, crimson started at his neck and crawled up to color his entire face. “Um, Chris mentioned the abuse, sexual abuse, you both suffered from your father.” He took a break to swallow before he went on. “It’s okay, you know. That wasn’t your fault.”
“Tell that to my heart.”
“Thought I just did.”
“At any rate, that was a long time ago.” She took on the matter of fact tone she’d practiced to perfection to be used when discussing this subject. If talking about her divorce was hard at first, Eric’s genuine interest and acceptance made the undertaking bearable, even cleansing. She doubted confessing about the—the forbidden topic she’d end up with the same result. “It’s something I’ve learned to live with.”
Run away. Don’t admit it even happened. Shut it out. Shut it out or you’ll be sorry.
Though she repeated them again and again, the usual mantras weren’t working.
She raised her eyes to stare into his and couldn’t help wondering at her own reaction. By all rights she should have slipped free of his hold on her, offered a polite thank you for the enjoyable time and said goodnight. Then closed the door and do what she always did when remembering hurt too much. Slink off to bed and do the best she could to comfort herself—alone.
As what she should do circled and re-circled in her mind, her gaze never wavered from the intensity of his. Eric’s hands released hers, landed warm and sure on her shoulders then slid down her arms and around her back as he brought her tight against him. More warmth flowed into her as she settled into his embrace then wrapped her arms around his waist to make sure she stayed there.
“Both specters from my past are becoming easier and easier to talk about.” She stopped to clear her throat.
“But not easy enough.”
At so much caring reflected in his voice, she took a moment to bask in its comfort. “Or possible to forget.”
She closed her eyes to shut off the tears that always followed remembering. Gentle fingers under her chin guided her face upward.
“You’re a strong and beautiful woman.”
Blue eyes darkened then disappeared as his lids lowered. Her last image before hers did too was of his mouth drawing near, lips slightly parted as they hovered above hers.
The contact was soft and immediate. Yet she gasped at the spark of awareness that jolted through her. When her head rocked slightly backward, he followed the subtle movement to deepen their contact.
No secrets.
When he lifted his mouth on a sigh, she breathed in air he released.
“I have to tell you, Eric Matthews, you are not what I expected.”
“Not sure how to take that. You always prejudge people before you get to know them?”
“Just those I think may have the chance to impact my life.”
“Impact in a good way or bad?”
“Makes no difference.”
He put his hands on either side of her, effectively trapping her between the wall behind and his body in front. “It always makes a difference.”
“Your mother talked to me about you a little. You’re just not how she described you.”
“My mother’s been saying for weeks I needed to get out.”
“Is that why you called me? For your mother?”
“Not a chance.”
“Jay?”
“Nope.”
There was no opportunity for further discussion as his mouth reclaimed hers. On one part surprise and three parts delight her arms wrapped around his neck, hands clutching his hair as she, not Eric brought their kiss to another level.
As always with this man, heat emanated from the places he touched her. Except tonight after what they shared, the sensation was different. And one she wasn’t about to give up.
“I want to make love to you, Elyse. I don’t want to wade through the formalities.” The words came out short and urgent.
Her reply was firm and breathless. “Every book on dating etiquette is telling me how wrong this is.”
His hands gently cupped her face as his lips tasted hers. “You need to quit reading.”
“I definitely need to quit reading.”
Even before the door was fully shut behind them she was back in his arms. Their kiss on the porch began innocently enough, then took off with the fury of a thunderstorm in spring.
From a few minor sparks to all out flame, whatever it was they discovered about each other tonight burned too hot now to ever be extinguished.
Walking her backward toward the couch, still holding her in his arms, he laid her on the cushions and quickly followed with his body to press against her.
“With a place this size, we aren’t going to be interrupted by some prim and proper butler or maid wandering through are we?” He began the question looking into her eyes, but had his mouth pressed against the side of her throat by the time he finished.
She tilted her head slightly to allow him better access to the sensitive area. Words refused to form in her mind, making her unable to emit anything short of a contented sigh.
“I’ll take that to mean it’s not an issue.”
A quick head shake was all she was capable of as the waist band of her gauze skirt slipped down over her hips and was gone. She vaguely recalled her camisole top being lifted over her head and dropped by the front door.
Arms around his neck, his kiss held the power to burn away all the bad memories, leaving room for only the good and the new ones they created. Half on the sofa cushion, half on the floor she opened her eyes to see Eric, shed of his clothes, kneeling beside her. Then his lips traveled everywhere on her skin and rational thought ceased.
She reached out to stroke the hard muscles of his chest, ran her fingertips along his torso. With more groan than sigh, he pulled her against him with a force that left her breathless.
Two people who had traveled through so much desolation and despair would be alone no more.
Chapter Nine
At eight o’clock the next morning the air was already heavy and wet when Eric woke up alone and in his own bed. Lying on sweat dampened sheets, he rolled over to position his body under the breeze of the slowly rotating window fan. Head settled into the pillow, he shut his eyes and longed for Elyse. Instead, he had to be content with the memories of last night and his time making love to her.