by Howe, Olivia
The next time. Winn’s body thrummed at the notion of Eric cooking for them again. She tempered her giddiness with a note of caution.
This all seemed too good to be true.
But she wasn't ready to let it go, the fantasy he could be the one. Eric, she was sure, was giving off an interested “vibe” and she was so thankful Tyler had taken to him.
That scared her, too— the idea Tyler would grow fond of Eric, and then Eric would change his mind and beg off. Especially when Gus got home and needed assistance navigating life in a wheelchair.
Winn might also cut and run before he got too close. Since Eric seemed to enjoy the time he spent at the school and with the kids, she bet the latter scenario was more likely.
Gus had complained about difficulties dating, noting the few women he'd met online or through friends had shied away after learning about Tyler's challenges, especially since Gus was only twenty-six and the girls he dated were not too far removed from their party days of college.
He’d been worried he would never find anyone, and he would spend the rest of his life alone. Winn had waved off his concerns, convinced Gus's good looks and Tyler's quiet charm would be enough for any woman.
After she took on Tyler’s care when she left the hospital, she understood Gus’s fears. She'd endured the stares and glares when Tyler would tantrum in public, and she often wondered if she would find a man who would love her, and love—and accept—her beautiful, special nephew as long as Gus needed her to help care for his son.
The way Eric beamed at her gave her a flicker of hope.
The way he laughed at Tyler, with a grin plastered on the boy’s sauce-smeared, ignited the flicker into a blaze.
Winn wanted to make time stand still so she could live in this perfect moment forever.
She couldn't make it last, though, and they would have to go soon.
Tyler ate the rest of his lasagna and bread with gusto, and then they each enjoyed a slice of the fudge cake. Winn motioned at Tyler to use his napkin to clean his food-covered face. She was pleased his appetite had come roaring back. After the accident, Tyler, who was a picky eater a year ago, ate even less, but in the past few months, he’d been eating more. Trying—and liking—different types of food.
One of her new life's small miracles.
A year ago, a miracle would’ve been having money left over at the end of every month, but now other things mattered so much more.
Memories of the shattered glass, the twisted metal, the sticky blood, and Tyler's screams mixed to create the most horrific dreams. She'd sometimes wake with her arm flung across her face, crying out, like she did that night.
It didn't seem fair. The drunk driver who'd hit them had walked away from the scene. To the police car. Gus, an amazing brother and devoted dad, driving home from an impromptu dinner after his son's Christmas play, was critically injured. After he woke from the coma, Winn was grateful for the chance to tell her brother how much she loved and appreciated him.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Eric's rich voice brought her back to the present.
Winn shook her head. “Oh, nothing. I was thinking about how the town seems to go all out for Christmas, but your house is delightfully restrained.”
He did have a tree up already, but it was tasteful, with white lights and simple ornaments, as well as handmade decorations Winn guessed Eric and his sister had made as children. Garland decorated the mantle, accented with bows, and a single light with a wreath had adorned each window facing the front of the house.
“Right? You'd expect as a resident for most of my thirty years, I would go insane. I prefer a cleaner look.” He stood up and picked up the dishes. “Though I do love visiting the homes and businesses on the 'tourist drive' to see who's got the most outrageous set-up. Have you been yet?”
“Um, no. I haven't had the time to go yet.” Liar. But she didn't want to detract from the wonderful evening with any more talk of tragedy. Besides, he'd had his share of sadness too, and she wanted to keep it light.
Eric pushed the subject again. “You haven’t decorated your home, either. At least the outside. Do you not… I mean, does Tyler not like the change in his environment? Is that why you haven't done it?”
Winn found she couldn't lie about Tyler. “No, actually, he likes the lights on the tree, and loves music.”
Tyler pushed a button on one of the ornaments and hummed along to the cheerful tune it played.
“I need to pull things from storage and pick up a few more decorations.” There, that should end the conversation. She added for good measure, “You’ve seen my car. Can't fit much of a tree on top.”
“True,” Eric agreed. “We could almost fit your car in the bed of my truck.”
Winn nodded, settling on his plush sage-colored sofa as Tuck curled himself around Tyler's legs, much like an overgrown cat. Tyler sat on the floor to stroke the dog's soft brown and black fur.
Eric had poured himself more wine and held out his glass. “Would you like another?”
“Oh, no thank you. Since I'm driving and all...” she reminded him.
She’d been drinking the night of the accident. That’s why Gus had been driving. Winn wasn’t comfortable revealing this information to Eric, a perfect stranger.
All three dogs surrounded Tyler, vying for the boy’s attention with various toys and expressions of affection. Tuck was the most aggressive, luring Tyler into a game of tug of war with a rope toy. Tyler's peals of laughter turned into little whines at not being able to get the rope from the dog, so it was time to go before he had a meltdown. He was growing tired, and a sleepy Tyler was not a pretty sight.
“I'm afraid we need to go.” Winn pushed herself off of the sofa. “It's close to Tyler's bedtime, so we better head home.”
Eric frowned. Winn hoped because he didn’t want them to leave.
“Oh, too bad. I’ve been having a wonderful time and didn’t realize it was so late.” He crossed the entryway to get their coats from the wooden stand in the front hall.
Winn took Tyler's coat and helped him into it, working with him hand-over-hand to pull up the zipper.
Eric slipped her coat on for her, leaning in to whisper, “I had a fantastic evening. I can't wait to see you again.”
His hot breath in her ear melted her bones, and she was thankful for his strong hands on her shoulders holding her up.
He went back to the kitchen and returned with a paper bag filled with plastic containers. “I boxed up lasagna and bread for you. There's no way I can eat it all, and you seemed to enjoy the cake—the rest of it’s in there, too.”
Winn’s face grew hot, and she covered her face with her hands.
“I love a woman who can enjoy a good meal. Where's the fun in eating salad and skipping dessert all the time?”
She was grateful for his kind words, and she relaxed, not so self-conscious about her eating habits—or the resulting curves—anymore.
Tyler gave one last hug to Tuck, and Winn took the boy by the hand as Eric followed with the goody bag. Winn buckled Tyler into the back and turned with the intention of thanking Eric for his hospitality.
Instead she leaned forward, inhaling his woodsy, masculine scent.
“Go out with me tomorrow?” His words cleared the fog that had overtaken her brain.
“I… I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He probably deserved more explanation, but she couldn’t conjure the right words.
His nose and forehead scrunched up, and he pulled back, scratching his head. “It must be tough, taking care of Tyler all by yourself, and I figured you deserve a break. My friends and I have a long-standing tradition of Saturday night karaoke at Charlie’s Pub on Main. My friend Tony and I do a mean rendition of ‘Thong Song,’ and it's a lot of fun, even if you don't sing. We don’t have to call it a date.”
Winn bit her lip. She’d kept herself isolated since they’d moved here and meeting new people could be fun.
“Tyler's teacher assistant Chrissie has offered to babysit anytime, so let me ask if she's available. What time does the karaoke kick-off?”
“Nine o'clock.”
“Okay. I'll be there if she can sit for me on such short notice.” She secretly hoped Chrissie wouldn’t be available. Winn’s plan of “immersion therapy” to shake her attraction to Eric wasn’t working. Tyler anxiously tapped on the window. She needed to go. Eric smiled broadly, opened her door for her and turned to walk away. Winn reached out to touch his shoulder, and he faced her.
“Thank you.” Her whisper barely registered in her ears.
“Thank you.”
Winn glanced in the rear view mirror, swearing Eric practically skipped back to his front porch as she drove away.
Chapter 4
When Chrissie agreed to babysit Tyler, Winn was happy, but anxious as well.
She had a date.
What the hell?
Eric said they wouldn't call this a date, but she was going out. With an attractive, charming man.
Winn glanced at the clock. She was due at Charlie's Pub in an hour. She didn’t know what to wear, what to do with her hair.
Frazzled was not strong enough to describe her mood. It had been over a year since she'd gone out—or done anything else—with a man.
The last thought popped into her head uninvited, since she had no intention of ever doing anything with Eric Donnelly, or anyone, for quite some time. Her family came first. There was no time or energy to invest in a relationship, be it romantic or physical.
However, the physical thing with Eric sounded so tempting.
Those dimples had popped when he’d pleaded with her to come out to karaoke night, and Winn had trouble refusing.
Now here she was, fretting over costume choices and accessories and shoes.
As Winn held up yet another sweater and scrutinized her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door, Tyler pushed open the door and walked into her room. A moment later, he tapped her arm and handed her a plum chenille sweater he’d retrieved from the pile of clothes on her messy bed.
“This one? Are you sure?” He probably didn't understand her question, but he gazed up at her, put his arms around her waist, and squeezed.
Winn dropped the sweater and put her arms around her precious nephew, her heart stuck in her throat. Moments like this were all too rare, and she wanted to savor it as long as possible.
The doorbell rang, and Tyler skipped to the entryway.
Winn wiped away tears as she followed Tyler and greeted Chrissie in the hall.
Tyler hugged her, too. Chrissie appeared rather surprised, but happy about the development.
An all-out love fest for the little man who hated physical contact.
Winn laughed at Chrissie's dazed expression. “He's been doing this quite a bit more than normal. It started after the dogs visited the school. Tyler is smitten with the pups.”
Chrissie chuckled. “Yes, Eric… and the dogs can affect people that way.”
Heat crept into Winn's cheeks, but she evaded the insinuation. “I need to finish dressing. Tyler's had dinner, so now he'll drive you crazy with his Thomas...”
Winn didn’t have the chance to finish before Tyler handed his Thomas the Train DVD to Chrissie.
“It’s under control.” Chrissie shooed Winn away. “You go.”
Winn entered her room and closed the door. She undressed and changed into her slinkiest underwear. No one else would see it, but the lingerie made her feel pretty
She slipped on her best jeans and the sweater Tyler picked out. Hoop earrings and her black ankle boots completed the ensemble. She checked herself in the mirror once more. Satisfied, she headed out to tell Tyler goodbye.
About fifteen minutes later, Winn sat in her car, re-applying lip gloss and working up the nerve to cross the street and go into Charlie's.
A tap sounded on the window, and she almost jumped out of her skin. Eric stood outside her car. She unlocked her door, and he opened it for her.
“You made it.” He grinned.
Her knees turned liquid.
Damn those dimples.
A shaft of heat coiled through her, and when he unexpectedly draped his arm over her shoulder, the scent of leather and trees and man was so deliciously overwhelming she might explode.
They crossed the street, Eric's arm still around her shoulder. For not being a date, the beginning of this night sure seemed like one to Winn.
Surprisingly, she wasn't totally put off by the idea.
***
Eric breathed in the inviting vanilla scent of her hair as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. The gesture, meant to be casual, ignited a spark that was intimate and shockingly comfortable. He was happy she came, happier than he’d expected to be. After all, this wasn't a date, but a chance to hang out and introduce her to more people in town.
He wanted to do more. Images of Winn writhing beneath him flashed through his head— but neither of them were in a place to be with anyone right now.
However, she was spending too much time shut in at her house, and she needed time to connect with grown-ups. Winn needed a support network, even if she didn't want one.
The idea sounded a bit more possessive than he’d intended, and he was relieved he hadn’t said it out loud.
As he held the door of the bar open for Winn, the faint smell of stale beer was overpowered by the savory scent of Buffalo wings and French fries cooking in the kitchen. The familiar clanking of billiard balls from the bar’s two tables was nearly drowned out by the din of lively conversation.
Tony and Anna waved from a high-top table beside the stage. Eric and Winn made their way across the floor, discarded peanut shells crunching underfoot.
Their progress was slowed as a few townsfolk he’d spoken to in passing in the last couple years approached them, offering exuberant greetings and hearty handshakes.
And they were scrutinizing Winn. He realized none of them wanted to talk to him. They were itching to examine the new girl.
“Excuse us, folks.” Eric jerked his head in the direction of his friends and tugged at Winn's hand. “It's been real nice talking to you, but we're expected in the corner.”
As they approached the table, Tony slid out of his stool and extended his hand.
“Winn, this is my partner in crime, Tony Martino, and this lovely lady is Anna Powers.”
Winn shook first Tony’s hand, then Anna’s. “I’m so happy to meet you.”
Eric turned to Winn. “What are you drinking? Is beer okay?”
“Sure, one beer won't hurt, right?” She chewed on her lip.
“I can't imagine one beer hurting anything.” Eric went to the bar. As he waited for the bartender to pour two drafts, he glanced over at the table, admiring the way Winn’s rich auburn hair caressed her shoulders and highlighted the pale porcelain of her skin.
Eric retrieved the frosty mugs and set them on the table as old man Willard shuffled up, wearing a cowboy hat decorated with pins of all shapes and sizes, many of them cartoon Christmas characters. The one of Rudolph had a light-up nose blinking on and off. Eric grinned as Winn stifled a laugh at the sight of the old coot.
“Hey, y'all. How ya doing?” Willard exclaimed. “Didja hear tonight's all Christmas songs?”
“Oh, beautiful,” Winn mumbled in a tone that struck Eric as sarcastic.
“What? You don’t like Christmas songs?”
Winn shook her head. “Forget it.”
She took a sip of her beer and anxiously examined the bar, avoiding eye contact with anyone at the table.
The emcee kicked off the festivities, and Eric swore Winn sank in her stool a little as the overhead lights dimmed. “First up is Tony and Anna, singing 'Baby, It's Cold Outside.’ Yes, yes it is, so why don't you two lovebirds come on up here and heat things up for us?”
Tony and Anna took the stage and sang with en
thusiasm, if not skill, chuckling and poking one another as their song inspired other couples to take a turn on the bar’s tiny dance floor. Eric nudged her arm and tilted his head.
“Do you want to da—”
“I don’t dance.” Her sharp tone left no room for argument.
He turned his attention back to his friends on stage, and they ended with a flourish of bows and exaggerated kisses before returning to the table.
“Next up, Eric and Winn!” the emcee announced.
***
“I'm not doing this,” she whispered harshly into Eric's ear.
“C'mon, it'll be fun!” he cajoled.
“No.” Crossing her arms, she shot him her best glare, and he backed off.
“Okay, okay, I give. Guess I'll be flying solo.” His voice held a note of disappointment as he pushed back his chair and strode confidently to the stage. He took the microphone and adjusted the stand. In moments, strains of a familiar song played.
He crooned the opening lines of “Blue Christmas” into the mic he held close to his mouth, merriment shining in his golden-brown eyes as he winked at Winn.
If she hadn’t been completely turned on already by his good looks, hot body, and nearly impeccable manners, she was completely undone by this.
Winn, cheeks burning with embarrassment, studied the foam clinging to the bottom of her beer mug. This was probably not the wisest thing to do.
One beer was acceptable. Two and she was pushing it, though if she was going to survive a night of Christmas merriment, the reminders of last year...
Motioning to the waitress, she pointed to her empty glass and mouthed the words “Another one.”
The waitress soon deposited another frosty mug of pale beer in front of Winn before darting off in a blur of raven hair and a fog of flowery perfume.
Eric's gaze riveted on Winn, and she closed her eyes, hoping to avoid the desire his strong jaw and laughing eyes stirred deep within her. Despite the mindful effort to ignore his affect on her, all of her senses responded to him in overdrive. His rich baritone enveloped her, sending a shiver up her spine, a tingling across her skin—and a growing warmth in her belly.