Justify My Love

by Maria Carter

  "Thank you so much." Vanessa hugged the woman tightly.

  "Not at all. It's awful to be alone at times like these."

  Vanessa nodded, afraid she might cry again if she tried to speak. As they drove away, she called the closest friend she had within four hundred miles. Eric picked up after three rings.

  "Hello?"

  "Eric?"

  "Vanessa, hey, how's the trip?"

  She tried not to let tears clog her voice. "Awful," she managed.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I hit a deer." Her voice cracked, and she covered the mouthpiece while she pulled herself together.

  "Are you still on the highway?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you need a tow truck?"

  "Yes."

  "I'll be there as soon as I can."

  He hung up, and Vanessa knew the rEricef she felt was dangerous. Eric was kind and rEricable, and his little Virginia town was the most familiar thing to her for miles. She called her mother and told her about the new delay. Then she shot Tom a text.

  Hit a deer. I'm okay. Worst two days of my life.

  Again, his text was almost immediate. She could always count on him—even if it was via Verizon.

  What did you do to piss off the travel gods?

  For the first time since she'd killed grown-up Bambi, Vanessa began to feel a bit better. She had the support of strangers, friends, and family. She couldn't ask for more.

  Except a working car, a nice boyfriend, and Bambi to come back to life.

  "Sharon? Hi. I need you to come over and watch Julia for me."

  "Is everything okay?"

  Eric struggled to balance the house phone while pulling on shoes and socks.

  "Dad, I'm too old to have a baby-sitter, and I want to come," Julia demanded. She was already in her pajamas and had a dangerously upset look on her face.

  He covered the mouthpiece. "You're going to bed in an hour and you have another year until you can stay home alone—or longer, if you keep it up."

  Julia stamped upstairs, and the door to her room slammed shut. He turned his attention back to the phone. "Yes, everything's fine. There's just this girl from New York—"

  "Ooh!" Sharon's excited squeal came through the phone.

  "It's not what you think. I helped her with a flat tire, but now she hit a deer, so I have to run out with the tow truck."

  "I'll be right over."

  Eric grabbed his keys and left. Julia would be okay for the two minutes it took her grandmother to walk over. He drove his truck to the salvage yard, unlocked the gate, and found the keys to the tow truck. In no time, he was on the highway. He saw the police car first, lights flashing. The deer was gone. Vanessa leaned against her damaged car and shielded her eyes against Eric's high beams. The rEricef in her expression was obvious.

  He parked in front of her and jumped out. Vanessa met him between the two vehicles. He'd gotten used to her reluctance, her determination to keep their short-lived interaction as uncomplicated as possible, so he was surprised when she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

  "Thank you. Again."

  Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt. He could tell she'd been crying. It had been a long time since he'd felt needed by a woman, and he enveloped her slim body in strong arms. Warmth settled in his chest, a feEricng he wasn't anxious to part with.

  For the first time, he noticed she had glass in her hair. He pulled away to run his fingers gently along the length of her arms, examining the scratches. His thumb brushed the mark on her forehead, barely two inches above her healing bruise. The policeman got out of his car and approached them, but before he could say anything, Eric spoke.

  "Why didn't you call an EMT?"

  "I said I didn't need one," Vanessa answered for him. "I don't. It's nothing a band-aid or two won't fix."

  She stepped away and used her fingers to shake some of the glass out of her short hair. Eric took a deep breath and forced his protective instincts to the back burner.

  "Where will you take the car?" the officer asked.

  "B.S. Service Center."

  The officer looked at him, to make sure he wasn't joking, then glanced at the lettering on his truck. "And you're from Summers Salvage?"

  "Yes."

  "Then if you can take it from here, I think I have everything I need."

  He nodded to Eric before walking over to speak with Vanessa. Eric lowered the ramp on his truck and took the liberty of starting Vanessa's car. He drove it up on the flatbed, careful to avoid the glass in the driver's seat. The cop pulled onto the road and passed him, and when Eric got out to secure the car, Vanessa was loitering near the back wheels, waving a piece of yellow paper.

  "He gave me a warning," she told him.

  "I thought the front end of your car was enough of a warning."

  "Me, too." She sighed and hugged herself, clearly exhausted.

  Eric finished locking the chains in place, folded the ramp back up, and jumped off the truck. He reached a hand out and gently brushed Vanessa's hair behind her ear. "I'm glad you're okay."

  She nodded, still looking miserable, and he wrapped her in his arms again. It felt so natural to embrace her and so natural to bring his lips down to kiss the top of her head. She didn't resist, didn't look at him like he was crazy. She relaxed into him. He wished they could stand there like that forever.

  "Come on," he said finally. "I'll take you back to town."

  He gave her a hand into the high cab of the truck and started the vehicle. Vanessa was quiet.

  "I guess this isn't exactly where you wanted to end up tonight," he said after a few minutes of driving.

  "Not like this," she confessed. Not like this. The implication that she might have wanted to end up back in Hickman some other way, for some other reason, made him glad. "I'm sorry if I interrupted anything," she continued. "You're the only person I could think to call."

  "You didn't interrupt anything. I'm glad I could be here."

  They fell silent again. Eric glanced at Vanessa. She was beginning to doze off, head against the window. Her pretty lips parted slightly, and he turned his attention back to the road. Those lips were distracting, Ericciting memories of their too-brief kiss earlier that day. Now wasn't the time to think about it, to want more, to ask for more.

  Vanessa woke up when they entered Hickman's town limits. Eric drove to his brother's shop and parked her car around back. He'd call in the morning to let him know what had happened. When Eric got back in the truck, he gripped the steering wheel tightly and looked at Vanessa, weighing the pros and cons of what he was about to offer.

  "Fixing your car and figuring out the insurance will probably take a few days," he said.

  "I know." She sighed. "My parents are only in Florida for four more days. It probably won't be worth the trip by the time this mess is over."

  "That's true. I was just thinking it doesn't make sense for you to spend money on the motel when we have an extra bed at our house."

  "Oh."

  Eric knew what must be going through her mind. It was crazy for her to stay at a man's house when she'd barely known him for a day. It was also crazy to kiss a man after barely knowing him for a day. It had been crazy for him to kiss her, and it was crazy for him to bring her home. But, damn, all that crazy felt so right.

  "If you're sure it won't be any trouble," she said, and the pink tint in her cheeks told him she'd reached the same conclusion.

  "I'm sure."

  When they reached his house, Vanessa stepped down from the cab and waited for him to lead the way. The front door was unlocked. He walked in and tossed his keys and wallet on the kitchen table. Sharon was in the living room, watching a game show. She rose to greet them with a wide smile.

  "I didn't realize you'd be bringing 'this girl' home with you." She teased before turning to Vanessa. "I heard you've been having some bad luck lately."

  "You could say that," Vanessa answered.

  Sharon ga
ve her arm an encouraging squeeze. "Well, now, just remember that everything happens for a reason. I'm Sharon, by the way."

  "Vanessa."

  They shook hands, the atmosphere already light and comfortable around them.

  "I hope to see you again soon, Vanessa." She hugged Eric. "Julia went to bed on time. Just let me know if you need me again. I'd be more than happy to take Julia for a little while if you need some time to woo this lovely girl." Sharon winked and waved to them both.

  "The bedroom's this way," Eric said as the front door closed, choosing not to acknowledge his former mother-in-law's insinuation. He opened the door and went in first, kicking a pile of dirty laundry into the corner. "The sheets are clean, if nothing else."

  Vanessa's brown eyes fell on the picture of Eric and Angela on their wedding day. He wasn't sure what to say, or if he should say anything. He'd seen other women since his wife's death, but he'd never brought them home. They'd never had to face her memory.

  "I thought you said you had an extra room," Vanessa broke the silence.

  "I sleep on the couch."

  She sat on the edge of his bed, the events of the night clearly weighing on her. Still, her posture was impeccable, accentuating her best features. He'd noticed the quality in dancers before. Her long legs were crossed, her small breasts were pert beneath the fabric of her dress, her neck was pearly white and slender. He squeezed his hands into fists and then released them, attempting to also release the sudden urge to explore that limber body with his.

  "Every night?" she asked, looking at the picture again.

  "Yeah." Vanessa was getting a first-hand look at his baggage. And while he was willing to accept hers for however long she stuck around, he couldn't be sure she'd feel the same. "It just got to feEricng too empty in here. The other bedroom was converted into a craft room. Angela converted it into a craft room."

  He added the last sentence. He couldn't avoid talking about her, and he didn't want to. She'd been a part of him for too long.

  "And you don't mind if I sleep here?"

  "No. I wouldn't have offered if I did. If you need to shower, the master bath's right through that door."

  "Thanks." She glanced to where he was pointing, and then back to him, her gaze lingering unabashed. One of her fingers toyed absently with the bed cover. "You're a nice guy, Eric."

  Her admiration made him bold, and he stepped closer, going down on one knee in front of her. He heard her breath catch, but he only took her small hands in his larger ones and turned the palms up.

  A tiny piece of glass was still embedded in her soft flesh. He removed it as gently as he could, but a muscle beneath the cut twitched, and he knew it had stung. He pressed his lips against the mark and felt a tremor run through her. He raised his eyes to hers and found them wide, filled with curiosity and yearning.

  "Just nice?" he teased, attempting to ease the heated tension.

  Her cheeks flushed. "No. Not just nice," she murmured.

  She reached out to touch his hair, toying with the short, golden strands. He closed his eyes and sighed. The gesture was innocent enough, but it was one he hadn't experienced in a very long time. Her fingertips moved to his cheek, gently tracing the curves of his face, exploring him.

  He caught her wrist gently in his hand, stopping her. She was beautiful. Her eyes were large and expressive. Her lips were smooth and shaped like a kiss. The only thing marring her perfection was the cut above her eye and that damned bruise. He figured her age at about twenty-two. She was young. And though he knew she was far from naïve, he couldn't help wanting to show her how a man was supposed to be, how a man was supposed to make her feel.

  Bruised and defeated were not on the list.

  But before he could make a move of his own, she leaned down and captured his lips in hers. He met her tender caresses easily, instinctively, sliding his arms around her waist to pull her onto his lap. Her hands found the back of his neck and grasped his hair, sending tantalizing sensations straight from his scalp to his groin. Eric held her bottom half against his, making his desire known and aching to know hers.

  But the timing was off. Eric knew it. The embrace got too hot too fast, and Vanessa broke away with a rush of breath and an embarrassed smile.

  "I think I'll go take that shower," she said.

  Eric nodded, still breathless, and pulled another shard of glass from her tangled hair. He took a moment to brush the strands behind her ear and gently kiss her bruised cheek before standing and rummaging through his dresser for a t-shirt.

  "I didn't think to get your things out of the car," he said. "Is this okay?"

  "Perfect. Thank you."

  He tossed it to her, and she caught it. He winked, easing any residual tension, and left, closing the bedroom door behind him. He ran a hand through his hair and headed to the couch. The familiar jingle of a dog collar reached his ears, and Timberlake came over to lie on the floor beside him. Eric patted his head and listened to the shower run, trying to relax.

  Tonight, especially, that wouldn't be an easy feat.

  Chapter Five

  Vanessa finished rubbing toothpaste on her teeth and spit in the sink. She was showered and now wore Eric's comfy, cotton t-shirt. It barely covered her ass, but it would do to sleep in. And she had to admit she liked the way it felt on her skin—as if Eric had wrapped her up in a flag and staked his claim.

  She sighed. They were having a fling. What else could she call it? The circumstances didn't allow for it to be something more, yet at the same time they'd come too far to call it nothing. She liked him. She liked him because she'd killed grown-up Bambi and he'd been there, because he was a great kisser, and because he was genuine. He'd worked his way into her system, and eventually he'd need to be flushed out.

  Vanessa supposed it should feel odd, maybe even wrong, to be flirting with Eric in the house he'd shared with his wife. But as long as he wanted it—and he most certainly did—she could feel comfortable.

  Thinking of Angela, of the life Eric once had, piqued Vanessa's curiosity. She glanced around the small room. It was messy. Beard trimmings sprinkled the sink, and the toilet seat was up. But it wasn't as if he'd been expecting company.

  She hesitated and then opened the medicine cabinet. She was definitely snooping now. There was a small bottle of perfume among the aspirin, male deodorant, shaving cream, and razors. She went back in the bedroom and opened a drawer in the second dresser, the one that must have belonged to her. It was empty, but the bedspread and a few knickknacks in the room were distinctly feminine.

  There was enough of Eric's wife to show that he'd loved her, but there wasn't so much Vanessa felt like an intruder.

  She lay down on the damask comforter and tried to relax. The more time she spent with Eric, the further away her memories of Goe seemed. It was almost too easy. They'd clearly had no real future together, and it made her wonder exactly what that said about her chemistry with Eric. If he was able to all but erase a year-long relationship in two days...

  She couldn't think about it.

  Vanessa closed her eyes, forced her mind to clear, and tried to get some sleep in Eric's bed.

  The sound of a drawer closing woke Vanessa. She opened her eyes and squinted in the morning light to find Eric at his dresser, searching for a fresh change of clothes. She moved her head slightly to get a better look. His hair was matted to his head, and the clothes he'd slept in were wrinkled.

  Still, he was a beautiful sight.

  As his head turned her way, she squeezed her eyes shut again, feigning sleep. She was flattered for a moment. Aw, how sweet. He was watching her sleep. Then she felt a draft, and, with horror, realized the t-shirt had ridden up, undoubtedly displaying her lime green panties. She opened her eyes immediately, and Eric's face turned beet red before he recovered and gave her that heart-stopping grin.

  "Good morning," he greeted.

  "Morning." She sat up and subtly pulled the t-shirt back down where it belonged.

  At least
Eric had the decency to pretend he hadn't been staring at her ass.

  "I was trying not to wake you."

  "It's okay."

  "Julia is still asleep. I thought we could get some of your things and see Bommer. Tell him what happened. It's Sunday, so he probably won't be able to work on it today."

  "Thanks. Is your neighbor coming by to watch her again?"

  "She's not my neighbor. Well, she is my neighbor, but more than that. Sharon is Angela's mother."

  "Oh." That made everything feel just a little more awkward, but that grin always helped put her at ease.

  "And, yes, she's coming by."

  "Okay. I'll get dressed."

  "I'll shower upstairs."

  His eyes landed on her lips as he reached for the doorknob. Vanessa smiled and nodded. He somehow managed to get out of the room without hurting himself. He wanted to kiss her. She wanted to let him. But so far he was being a gentleman, and now was not the time to make herself cheap. Now was not the time to be doing anything with anyone, really.

  All of the rules said she should be focusing on herself right now, finding her independence—not rebounding. If she let her hormones have their way now, where would it end? She'd jump from man to man and eventually hit her mid-life crisis as a single, sad shell of a woman trying desperately to figure out where it all went wrong.

  On the other hand, it might be exactly what she needed. She might feel empowered, desired, and free.

  The choice hardly seemed to belong to her. She was sleeping in his room, and they could barely resist each other as it was. Julia, of course, provided a barrier between them, but just because he was a dad didn't mean he couldn't have a personal life.

  It didn't mean he couldn't have her.

  She got up and put on her dress from the day before. Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen before answering. "Hey, Tom."

  "Hey, Van. I wasn't sure if you'd be up."

  "Um, yeah, I am. Eric woke me up." She was counting on him to take it the wrong way, and he did.

  "Ugh, I knew this was going to happen. You're a girl, you're vulnerable. He's a hot guy in a pick-up truck..."

  "How did you know that?"