by BETH KERY
Colleen sat between Eric and her niece Riley’s high chair, helping Mari feed the energetic nineteen-month-old girl. As they talked about the possibility of Brigit’s sister’s family coming from Sacramento to attend the wedding, Riley cheerfully threw a bit of sweet potato onto Colleen’s cheek.
Colleen’s mouth was still open in surprise when Eric said, grinning, “This way.”
Colleen turned her cheek to him, and he wiped it with his napkin, pausing to gently push a tendril of hair behind her ear, stroking her temple. It all happened so fast, she didn’t have time to be self-conscious about his caress in front of her whole family. When she sat back, she saw everyone had paused and was staring at her and Eric with expressions that ranged from wide-eyed curiosity (Jenny) to pleased (Natalie, Brendan and her mother) to smug (Mari) to stunned (her brothers).
Riley yelped in protest that no one was paying attention to her anymore. Everyone started eating again, while Eric valiantly resumed the topic.
After dinner, everyone helped to clear and clean up while the kids played with Riley in the living room. It was a plan which caused just as much camaraderie as it did chaos as they bumped into each other, the men shouted questions for instructions on what went where and Brigit answered them good-naturedly, then followed behind, silently correcting all their mistakes. When Marc attempted to shove the huge roasting pan in the packed dishwasher, though, Brigit drew the line and shooed everyone out of her kitchen.
Colleen was the last to leave. She wandered down the front hallway and looked into the family room, not seeing the face she sought. She turned her head, hearing the muted sound of men’s voices in conversation. The curtained French doors leading to the formal living room were partially opened. A table lamp softly lit the room. She poked her head inside and saw two tall men in their shirtsleeves standing in front of the built-in bookcases.
“What are you two doing?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Eric was interested in Dad’s book collection,” Marc said.
Colleen’s eyes swept over the large, handsome collection of books and landed on Eric. She smiled.
“Dad loved his books. He didn’t have that many growing up. He used to say—”
“There was no greater wealth than knowledge. Marc just told me,” Eric said, holding her stare.
“Eric was just talking about Dad when you came in, Colleen. You knew him? Before the crash?” Marc directed his question to Eric. Colleen walked toward the two men, her interest piqued.
“Not really,” Eric admitted before he slid a book back into the bookcase and turned toward them. “I knew who he was, though. I worked for Morelli Landscaping when I was a kid. I wasn’t assigned to this house—Kevin Little used to do the landscaping and upkeep here—but one spring, Kevin’s crew was short one guy, and I filled in. During my breaks, I used to read. That’s how Kevin found me one day, under a tree with my nose in a book. Kevin wasn’t used to me. He didn’t know that I worked like a madman but grabbed a book on my break. He thought I was slacking off and started to lay into me. Next thing I know, I hear someone calling out to Kevin from the front porch. It was your dad. He must have heard us in the yard. He asked to speak to Kevin. I couldn’t help but overhear their conversation from where I was sitting.”
“Dad told your boss to lay off you, didn’t he?” Marc said.
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“It’s what Dad would have done in that situation,” Colleen said quietly, sharing a meaningful glance with her eldest brother. “He didn’t have much when he was growing up. He believed in the power of hard work and education. He would have been the first to defend a kid reading on his break.”
In the distance, they heard Riley start to wail. “All that sugar from dessert has her battery overcharged. I better go assist the troops,” Marc said with a smile. He squeezed Colleen’s shoulder as he left, confirmation that he’d been as affected by Eric’s memory of Derry as she had been.
“Do you want to sit down?” Colleen asked, waving at the sofa. The sound of the French door shutting quietly behind Marc had highlighted the fact that she was alone with Eric.
“He and my mom were alike in that way,” Eric said.
“Excuse me?”
“Your dad and my mom,” he said. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he stared at the bookcases. “Education. Hard work. My mom drilled that into me practically from the day I was born.”
Colleen swallowed with effort. It seemed like such a charged topic. “Natalie has told me a lot about your mom. She sounds like she was an amazing woman,” she said.
“She was.”
The silence and Colleen’s discomfort mingled…swelled.
“What’s wrong?’ Eric asked quietly.
She shook her head and laughed. “It’s an old feeling, but it still haunts me at times.”
“What’s that?””
“The urge to apologize for my father’s actions,” she murmured after a pause, studying Eric’s hand where it rested on his thigh. “And the subsequent rush of anger…wanting to defend him…wishing like crazy I could…feeling helpless because I know I can’t.”
He reached out, pulled her toward his body in a comforting gesture. Colleen recalled her earlier conversation with her mother. She glanced into Eric’s face. It was shadowed and sober-looking in the dim room.
He rubbed her shoulders with his fingers. It soothed her, his touch…reassured her. “I know that. If I didn’t always know it as well as I do right now, I’m sorry.”
“It was such a hard thing, the crash…for everyone. Everything was so raw. Emotions just get splattered everywhere in the aftermath, I guess.”
“I was so busy tallying up the things your father had stolen from me, I never really paused to think about who he really was, let alone what my life would have been like if the crash hadn’t happened.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe I wouldn’t have had the drive it took to go to college and medical school if there weren’t so many barriers just taunting me to leap over them.”
Colleen smiled. “And maybe I wouldn’t have gotten married in such a rush and started a family so quickly, desperate to create my own little secure world.”
He held her stare. “Is that what you think happened?”
She sighed. “Maybe. If that was part of my motivation for an early marriage, I don’t regret it. I had a lot of good years with Darin. I have Brendan and Jenny, and who could regret that?”
He nodded in agreement. He shifted his hand, massaging her tense shoulder and neck muscles. She let her head drop onto his chest and inhaled the clean scent of his laundered shirt and the subtle spice of his cologne. Her eyelids grew heavy. It felt so good.
“When you say you miss Darin…”
“Yes?” she asked when he paused, her eyelids still closed. When he didn’t immediately respond, she opened her eyes and lifted her head from his chest.
“Forgive me for being curious,” he said.
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
“I was just wondering to what degree Darin is still with us, when I’m alone with you.”
The way he’d posed the question had caught her off guard.
“He’s not.”
She averted her gaze, a little stunned by her outburst of honesty. She realized for the first time just how true it was. When she was with Eric, she was totally absorbed by him, whether he was pricking her temper or kissing her until she couldn’t think straight. It wasn’t as if he blocked Darin out of her mind. Darin was still there, a warm, happy memory she cherished.
But it was Eric who dominated her thoughts in the present.
“I see,” Eric said slowly, although his tone made her think he really didn’t see at all but was too polite to risk treading on the delicate topic of her dead husband. It wasn’t really fair to leave him completely in the dark, always stumbling around, walking on eggshells around her, was it?
“Darin was a wonderful man. He was there for me at a time in my life when I most needed him.
I’ll always be thankful for that. He’s the only man I’ve ever been with.”
Eric’s massaging fingers stilled in the crook of her neck and shoulder. She looked into his face warily. She couldn’t believe she’d just said that. It had sort of erupted out of her.
“I thought you should know,” she said lamely.
His stunned expression faded. He nodded and resumed massaging her. She curled farther into him, highly aware of his presence, his hardness, his warmth. She found herself fiddling with his silk tie. Her hand strayed to his chest. She stroked him, fascinated by the sensation of hard, corded muscle beneath his dress shirt.
“And that’s because you cared so much about him?” he asked in a tone that struck her as deliberately neutral. Or was it strained?
“Of course I cared about Darin, but I don’t know if I avoided men since he died because of that or not,” she said, feeling a little helpless because she didn’t know the answer herself. “I never cared enough for anyone else since Darin died to even think about the topic.”
“Colleen…”
“Yes?” she asked, distracted by the feeling of his muscles beneath her fingertips and the way he was staring at her mouth.
“You’re killing me. You know that, don’t you?”
“I don’t mean to.”
“I think that might be what’s killing me the most,” he growled softly before he slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him. His mouth covered hers. Colleen melted into his kiss. Everything about him—the feeling of his hard male body, his scent, his taste—delighted her. He knew how to kiss her just the way she liked it—firm and demanding at times, playful and teasing at others, nipping at her lips gently, making her hungry, coaxing her into becoming the aggressor.
He groaned when she did just that, framing his jaw with her hands and sending her tongue into his mouth, submerging herself in his heat and taste.
There was something so elementally right about him.
All of her doubts about whether or not it was a mistake to get involved with Eric faded under the power of his kiss and stroking hands. She forgot her worries about the kids and whether or not she was opening them up for hurt by allowing them to get attached to Eric. Her fears about her own vulnerable heart disappeared as desire surged through it, making it pump fast and strong.
“I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer,” he mumbled a while later as she plucked at his lips and he held her rib cage in his large, splayed hands. “Did you make your rational decision yet?”
“What?” Colleen asked between feverish kisses.
“Your decision. You know…” He paused and delved his fingers into her long hair. He clutched and tugged back gently, stretching her throat back. She moaned softly in protest because the position prevented her from ravishing his mouth more. Perhaps that was his plan, however, because he proceeded to devour her exposed neck, making her tremble in excitement. “The one about wanting more…with me?”
“Oh,” she gasped when his mouth lowered and he kissed the exposed skin on her chest. His hands shifted from her back, cradling her ribs just below the fullness of her breasts. His lips followed the trail of the neckline of her sweater, awakening her nerve endings, making her nipples tighten. Heat flooded her.
“Colleen?” he prompted, lifting his head and spearing her with a smoky stare.
“I…I’m very close to making my decision.”
“Good,” he muttered. “Let me see if I can’t be a bit more persuasive.” He dipped his dark head again and resumed tasting her skin. Colleen sighed in pleasure. He lifted his head a moment later and grabbed her hand. He placed it on his chest.
“I liked you touching me,” he said. “Do it more. Please.”
She acquiesced without hesitation, eager to comply. He leaned toward her again, his gaze fixed hungrily on her mouth, but he paused suddenly, his attention captured by her stroking hand. For some reason, his focused gaze made her all that much more aware of her hand on his chest, her exploration of dense, lean muscle. He leaned back on the couch, and they both watched as her fingertips slid over his right nipple. She explored the tiny, turgid button of flesh, fascinated by the feeling of it through his cotton shirt.
He leaned his head back on the couch and hissed softly. He covered her stroking hand with his own and moved it down over his ribs. She explored the sensations and textures of him there just as enthusiastically, captivated by his focus on her, feeling his heart beating more rapidly beneath her moving hand.
She laid her cheek on his chest and reached between two buttons. He made a rough, muffled sound in his throat when she touched smooth, warm skin. She’d thought he’d move or say something, but instead he remained completely still as she stroked his ribs, as though her touch had put him under a spell. She felt his skin roughen and felt her power over him in every cell of her being.
He put his hand on top of hers and slowly, gently slid it down over his abdomen. His stomach muscles felt taut and delicious beneath her seeking fingers. Her cheek burned hot next to his chest. She slid her fingers into an opening in the shirt just inches from his belt buckle. He groaned as she stroked him, skin to skin.
Her heart stalled when he put his hand on tops of hers yet again.
She lifted her head from his chest and met his stare. An unspoken message seemed to leap between them. Eric gave a small smile and lifted her hand, pressing his mouth to the center of her palm.
Colleen sighed in mixed pleasure and regret when she heard Jenny calling out to her from the stairs.
“Mommy! Did you bring my pillow inside?”
She gave Eric an apologetic glance and sat up straight, extricating herself from his embrace. “She must be getting tired. She can’t sleep without her special pillow, even though she’d never admit it out loud.”
Warmth surged through her when he chuckled. She was glad he wasn’t offended at being interrupted. Besides, as heated as they’d been getting, it was probably best Jenny chose that moment to require her pillow.
“You go ahead,” he said gruffly, rubbing her upper arm. “I’ll stay here for a moment and…cool down a bit. I should probably get going anyway.”
Heat flooded her already flushed cheeks.
“Oh—” She glanced around when Jenny called again, flustered. She shouted toward the closed French doors. “Just a second, honey! Are you sure?” she asked, turning back to Eric.
Eric nodded. “The evening’s gone great so far. I don’t want to ruin it by having your family catching me mauling you,” he said wryly.
“What about if—” But Jenny was knocking on the door, and Colleen stood to open it. She hustled Jenny out to the hallway to give Eric a moment to collect himself. By the time she’d put on her coat and gone out to her car to retrieve the pillow and duffel bags for the kids’ trip to Chicago, Eric was standing in the foyer putting on his coat and talking to a sleepy Jenny. Jenny thanked her for her pillow and wandered out of the foyer.
Frustration filled her as she set down the duffel bags and faced Eric. Both of them wore their coats. Marc and Mari must be preparing to leave for Chicago, because the sounds of bustling people and voices sounded close by.
“I had a great time,” Eric said in a hushed tone. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“We’re still on for tomorrow night, right?”
“For our date?”
He smiled.
“Of course,” she murmured, suddenly feeling ridiculously shy.
“Good.” He reached up and brushed back her hair, briefly touching her cheek with a gloved finger. “I already thanked your mother and said goodbye to your family, so I’ll say good-night. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She nodded. He leaned down and kissed her—brief and electric. Her frustration turned to acute disappointment as she watched him walk out the door. Things weren’t turning out exactly the way she’d planned. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him so soon.
“Mom, did you pack m
y iPod?” Brendan asked her from the hallway.
Colleen sighed and realigned her brain into Mom mode. “Yes, it’s in your duffel bag.”
“Good, ’cuz Riley is already asleep, and Jenny is going to be, too, as soon as we get in the car. I’ll have to be quiet on the way to Chicago,” Brendan mumbled.
Everyone gathered in the hallway and foyer, putting on coats and giving hugs. Colleen solemnly charged her children to do whatever their Uncle Marc and Aunt Mari said, not to sulk and to pick up after themselves. She gave them both some spending money and huge hugs.
“I’ll be calling you over the weekend,” Mari said when she came to say goodbye. Her significant glance told Colleen loud and clear that Mari wanted the entire scoop about Eric. They hadn’t really had a chance to talk privately all day.
“I might be busy,” Colleen whispered. Mari’s eyes went wide in increased interest before she gave Colleen a hug. Soon Marc, Mari, Riley, Brendan and Jenny were backing out of the driveway, only to be followed by Liam and Natalie. She and her mother stood in the foyer, the overhead light on, waving goodbye.
“Do you want to spend the night here, honey?” Brigit asked after Liam’s car had disappeared down Sycamore Avenue.
“No. I can imagine you’d like some alone time, after all the hard work you did. Thanks, Mom. For everything,” she added.
She felt strange a few minutes later as she backed out of the driveway. It was odd, not having Brendan and Jenny with her. Yet she didn’t feel lonely, necessarily. She felt…excited.
She shivered uncontrollably. The temperature had plummeted and the car heater seemed to be having no effect. It wasn’t until she turned left, not right, on Travertine Drive and drove west—in the opposite direction of her house—that she realized she wasn’t trembling from cold, but from anxiety.
And excitement.
It took Eric only seconds to answer her knock, but it felt like tortuous minutes to Colleen. The entryway light switched on and the door opened. She froze when she met his gaze through the outer glass door pane. He was wearing only a pair of black sweatpants. A towel hung around his neck. He was swiping one end of it across the damp hair at his nape, a slightly puzzled look on his face.