Justify My Love

by Maria Carter

  "What?"

  "Nothin'."

  Eric straightened and narrowed his eyes, suspicion superseding his work ethic. Martin's grin widened as he continued sorting parts.

  "Tiff said you'd been, uh, hangin' around with some girl the last few days."

  "Maybe I have." Eric shrugged and took off his tough leather gloves. "I'll let you finish up here."

  "Have fun." Martin winked.

  "Make sure Karen gets those parts in the inventory," Eric said as he climbed into his truck.

  Martin gave him a quick salute, and then Eric was on his way home. He figured Vanessa would be dying of boredom by now, and he was looking forward to having some more time alone with her. He wanted as much of that as possible before she left again.

  He pulled up to the house. Timberlake was still running around in the backyard, and he barked when he saw Eric. The house itself was quiet. He unlocked the door and went inside. Disappointment hit him harder than he expected. The lights were off; there was no movement. Eric passed through the kitchen and living room to knock on his bedroom door. It creaked open. Vanessa's bags were still there, but where was she?

  He stepped back into the kitchen and looked for a note, but he only saw the one he'd left her that morning. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated his plan had been foiled. Eric couldn't go back to the yard; his workers would think he'd been rejected and never let him live it down. So he grabbed some leftover macaroni and cheese, popped it in the microwave, and sat down to eat alone.

  "Hello?"

  Vanessa stepped through the door of B.S. Service Center, hoping to find Bommer. She'd caught a ride with Sharon and thought she'd spend some time with the only other person she knew in town. It seemed preferable to being cooped up in Eric's house by herself all day. The front of the shop was dimly-lit and empty, but she heard metal clanking in the garage. She peeked through the door. He had a car on a lift and was fiddling with something in the undercarriage.

  "Bommer?" she said tentatively, trying not to startle him.

  She failed. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

  "Holy shit, Vanessa," he breathed, setting down his tools and coming over to her. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

  "Sorry. Just thought I'd pop in and say hello."

  "Well, now, I can't blame you for that." The tall man grinned and winked.

  Vanessa laughed. "Of course not. Are you having a hard time finding dates lately or something? You have to snatch them away from your brother?"

  "Nope, I've got one lined up tonight. But thanks for the offer." Vanessa rolled her eyes, and Bommer continued. "I'm glad you stopped by. I need to give you the number of the place I sent your car to."

  He went to the front of the shop and gave her a business card from a drawer under the counter.

  "Thanks. So is there anything to do in this town besides eat?"

  "Not really." Bommer shrugged. "Are you bored?"

  "A little. Julia is at school and Eric's working. Sharon dropped by this morning. Now she's shopping."

  "So you came to hang out with me?" He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows.

  Vanessa wrinkled her nose. "On second thought, maybe I'll go for a coffee."

  "Ha. Thanks. I'm almost done with this car, actually. If you want to hang out for a few minutes I can come with you."

  "That sounds great. Thanks."

  "You're very welcome."

  Vanessa headed for the waiting room, and Bommer disappeared to finish his work.

  She sat down on a padded folding chair and checked her e-mail on her phone. There was a funny forward from her mother and junk mail. So she downloaded a crossword puzzle and focused on that.

  A few minutes later, the front door jingled. She looked up to see a man enter the shop. He seemed perfectly average except for his grim expression. He headed straight for the back. Vanessa wasn't sure if she should stop him; he seemed to know his way around. He closed the door behind him.

  Then she heard shouting. She caught a few curse words here and there. She wasn't sure if she should be listening or not; the heated conversation sounded personal. Had Bommer damaged this guy's car somehow? She was considering leaving a note for Bommer to meet her at the diner, just so she could get out of their way, but then she heard metal hit concrete.

  She got up immediately to investigate, to make sure no one was hurt. Before she could, the door flew open, almost hitting her, and the stranger stormed past. Vanessa looked in at Bommer. He was seething but seemed fine physically. Sure enough, a wrench was lying a few feet away. It looked as if he'd been the one to throw it, out of frustration.

  "Is everything okay?" she asked hesitantly.

  Bommer turned his angry gaze on her and took a deep breath. She could see he was trying to calm down. Vanessa blocked the similarities between his expression and the last one she'd seen on Goe's face. It would be a hard image to forget, a hard image to stop fearing, at least for a while.

  "Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. Just a disgruntled customer." He ran a hand through his hair, the way Eric did when he was frustrated or nervous. Then he grabbed the cordless phone from a nearby table and handed it to her. "I need to take a rain check on the coffee. I know it's asking a lot, but could you watch the store for me? Just answer the phone and take keys. Eric's supposed to come in an hour with parts, and I don't know if I'll be back."

  "Sure, I don't mind."

  "Thanks. I owe you."

  He tried to give her that cocky grin she was used to seeing from him, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He left out the back door, and Vanessa was alone. She took a seat behind the counter and did her best to make appointments, take messages, and accept dropped-off vehicles until Eric appeared. She was glad to see his familiar face, shadowed by the ever-present trucker cap. He was clearly surprised to find her standing behind the counter.

  "Can I help you, Sir?" Vanessa asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

  He grinned. "I'm sure you can."

  Excitement made her skin tingle. The pull she felt toward this man was too strong, but there was no going back.

  "I came to visit, and your brother put me to work," she explained.

  "No one ever said Bommer was a gentleman."

  Eric propped the door open and leaned against the frame, his tall form silhouetted by the sunlight. His dingy jeans, which would have best-suited bums, bar hoppers, or hipsters on New York City streets, were impossibly attractive on his long legs. And he always looked so damn good in those cheap cotton t-shirts. Vanessa felt her temperature rising. She glanced away, pretending to examine Bommer's appointment book.

  "So, really, where'd he run off to?" Eric continued.

  "I don't know. A customer came by, and they argued. I think he went to cool off."

  "Huh." Eric's brow furrowed.

  "You have a knack for non-committal noises," Vanessa observed, toying with a pencil.

  "I just don't think I've heard of something like that happening before. I'll just unload the stuff he needs and leave it here."

  "Do you need help?"

  He eyed Vanessa, and her cheeks flushed. She knew what he saw: pretty clothes, smooth hair, perfect make-up. And he didn't know it, but she was wearing heels. Nothing else had gone with her outfit.

  "No, I think I can handle it."

  He grinned. Vanessa frowned and tapped a pencil on the counter. Eric reappeared with a large cardboard box. He set it down heavily next to the chairs. Vanessa watched his arm muscles flex shamelessly.

  "I don't mind getting dirty. I don't mind messing up my hair." Vanessa felt the need to say it. She wasn't just a dainty city-slicker.

  Well, she was, but she could adapt.

  Eric grinned and stepped up to the counter. He leaned across it, the way she did, until his lips were close to hers. The scent of musky cologne mingled with grease and metal.

  "I know." His voice rumbled through her. "But why risk ruining such a pretty picture?"

  Vanessa smiled at the compliment, and he
r eyes flitted to his lips. He complied with her silent request and pressed his mouth to hers in a sensual kiss, twining their tongues together and mimicking the movements their bodies should be making. Vanessa gripped the edge of the counter and lost herself in sensation. He made all of her problems disappear. She couldn't form thoughts; she could barely breathe. Eric's hand reached up to grasp her hair, pulling her closer, forcing her to stand on tiptoe and lean further across the counter. She couldn't complain. She'd never been kissed the way he kissed.

  The sound of footsteps broke them apart. Vanessa turned her flushed face toward Bommer and used her fingertip to wipe excess moisture from her lips, being careful not to ruin her lipstick. Eric just grinned, probably happy his playboy brother had walked in on them.

  "The motel's just down the road, guys," Bommer said.

  Vanessa smiled. His mood was improved, but he still wasn't completely back to normal.

  "There's the stuff you wanted," Eric said, waving a hand at the box. "I'm going back to work. Do you want a ride or are you staying here?"

  His gaze fell on Vanessa, eyes still smoldering.

  "I'll come with you. I just wanted to get out of the house for a little while." She came around the counter and waved to Bommer. "Bye, Bommer."

  "Thanks for watching the shop. See you around."

  Eric's fingers closed automatically on Vanessa's, and he walked her out to his truck.

  "I was wondering where you got to this afternoon," Eric said as they buckled their seat belts.

  Vanessa fixed her hair in the passenger side mirror. The bruise was fading, and the cuts were healing. Thank God.

  "Did you stop by for something?"

  "Just lunch." He shrugged. "I guess I couldn't expect you to stick around all day."

  "I'm sorry I missed you," she said honestly.

  They pulled up to the yellow cape cod, and Eric put his truck in park.

  "I'll see you in a few hours," he said.

  "See you."

  Vanessa kissed his rough cheek and hopped down from the truck. Sharon had shown her where the spare key was. She waved to Eric and let herself in. Then she let Timberlake in and watched TV.

  "And then Leslie Ann said Emily's shirt was ugly, which was just plain rude, and I thought it was pretty and I have one just like it, anyway, and Emily went to the bathroom, and I think she was crying, and I told Leslie Ann she has absolutely no class—"

  "No class?"

  Eric and Julia were just walking into the house, and he was once again surprised at his daughter's adult vocabulary. She was at that age where she was trying to act just a little more grown up than she was, and Eric couldn't help the teasing grin that touched his lips. Julia rolled her eyes and dropped her backpack into a kitchen chair.

  "Yes, Dad. And then she said at least she still has a mom—"

  Eric stopped dead and stared at her. Anger streaked through his veins with an intensity he shouldn't be feEricng toward an eleven-year-old. It was hard enough with Angela gone; he didn't need some bratty kid making his daughter feel like a leper.

  "She said what? Do you want me to talk to the principal? Do you have her number? I'll call her parents."

  "For God's sake, Dad, do you want to ruin my life? Besides, I was going to tell you that Howie punched her. Right in the arm. Got sent to the principal's and everything."

  Julia was beaming. Eric's brow furrowed. Howie? The name sounded vaguely familiar. He had a hard time keeping Julia' classmates straight, but he was suddenly realizing he might need to pay attention to this name. It had been a long time since Eric was in school, but he knew there was only one reason for an adolescent boy to stick up for a girl. He liked her. And by the smile on his daughter's face, Eric was quite sure that Julia liked him, too, even if she didn't know it yet. He attempted to respond like the calm, rational adult he was supposed to be.

  "Well, that was real nice of him, but he should have just ignored her."

  "I know. I told him that."

  Vanessa appeared in the kitchen doorway. She'd changed into a navy skirt and frilly blouse, and she was in the process of putting in hoop earrings. Her hair looked different, too. As always, she was a beautiful, stylish package—one he couldn't wait to open.

  "I thought I heard your voices. How was school?" She smiled at Julia.

  "Great! Mostly. Except that Leslie Ann told Emily that her shirt was ugly—"

  "Oh, I heard. And then a boy hit her?"

  "He sure did."

  "That was nice of him. Sort of."

  "I know, I know. He should have handled it differently." She rolled her eyes as she repeated her father's sentiment.

  "Yes, he should have. When did you two want to leave for dinner?"

  "Now! I'll go change."

  Julia was once again the excited child Eric knew as she ran to the living room and raced up the stairs. He frowned and followed her with his gaze. Her attitude had been shifting lately, and now she was noticing boys. This was the change he'd been dreading, the change he needed Angela's help through the most.

  He felt a hand on his arm, snapping him back to reality. Vanessa trailed her fingertips along the veins of his tanned forearm. The sensation shot straight to his groin, turning his attention from his familial problems to his physical ones. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his body from reacting.

  "Are you okay?" Vanessa asked.

  "I'm fine. Just thinking."

  Her own gaze became serious as she tried to decipher his. He grinned. She was so damn cute. He reached a hand out to brush her hair behind her ear. The bruise was healing, but it was still visible. It still made him angry.

  Vanessa must have sensed his change in mood. She gently took his hand in hers and pulled it away, allowing the hair to fall back into place, hiding her injury. He placed a tender kiss on her other cheek and rested his forehead against hers, trying to regain the calm mood. Her lips found his briefly, sweetly. She drove him wild, emotionally and physically. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to hurt her or push her away.

  All he wanted was for her to stay.

  "I should get changed, too," he said, stepping back, knowing his daughter would come bouncing down the stairs any minute. "Is Timberlake outside?"

  "I put him out a few minutes ago."

  "Okay. We won't be gone long. I'll let him in and feed him."

  Vanessa nodded and leaned back against the table to wait, her eyes still on him, her cheeks flushed. A grin tugged at his lips. They wouldn't last much longer. But before he could even begin to fantasize, he heard his daughter's footsteps on the stairs, and he turned to open the back door.

  "Dad, I thought you were getting ready," she half-whined, half-scolded.

  He shook his head, unwilling to indulge his daughter's sudden bout of bossiness. "I'll get to it."

  The golden retriever bounded into him, tail wagging, begging for attention. Eric rubbed his head and went back to the kitchen to pour some food in the dog's bowl. His daughter was already talking Vanessa's ear off.

  "...and then today in cheer practice we learned a new move and we're going to use it at the soccer game on Wednesday and I'm really excited. Are you coming to the game? Because then you can see it."

  "If I'm still here, I'd love to."

  Eric heard his daughter clap happily before he went to the bedroom to change. Vanessa was good with her. It was another aspect that drew him to her.

  It was getting too easy to forget she wasn't a permanent fixture.

  Chapter Eight

  Vanessa stared at Eric from across the table. He wore jeans and a clean, button-down shirt, cuffed at the elbows. He'd left his hat at home and only finger-combed his hair, but, God, did it work for him. He caught her looking and winked. She suppressed a smile and glanced at Julia. She was fully focused on her breadsticks, at least for the moment. Then her eyes grew wide and she turned to her father.

  "Oh! Dad! I almost forgot. I talked to Emily, and she said her dance class is taking new students next month, and
I'd like to go. Can I? Please?"

  Eric looked from his daughter's excited expression to Vanessa. She became suddenly enthralled with the dessert menu and took a long sip of her limoncello. He had to know she'd been the influence behind his daughter's sudden interest, but he asked anyway.

  "Since when do you want to take dance?"

  "Vanessa said it could help me get better at cheering. And Emily's in it, so it would be a lot of fun and we'd get to spend even more time together, but mainly it's for the cheering."

  "We can look into it," Eric answered as the waiter set their food down in front of them.

  "Then if I like that maybe I can start gymnastics."

  "That would make you a pretty busy girl. Plus you have homework. Don't you want time for other things?"

  "Yes." Julia considered her father's point and took a bite of pasta. "But we could look into it."

  Vanessa smiled as she raised a spoonful of chicken and gnocchi soup to her lips. She'd never tire of seeing them interact. There was so much love between them. She found herself missing those days, the days when she was young and happy, like Julia, and had so much life ahead of her—before she was out on her own and before people like Goe existed.

  Vanessa felt Eric's eyes on her, and she glanced up at him. There was a question in his blue depths. He'd noticed the change in her mood. Vanessa took a deep breath, mentally shook off the weighted feEricng, and smiled at him. He touched her sandaled foot with his sneakered toe.

  The atmosphere remained light during the rest of the meal. The food was good and Julia entertained them with stories about school and boy bands. Then Vanessa paid and they left. She liked that Eric didn't argue this time, that he was letting her do something nice to thank them.

  As they walked out to the truck, Vanessa suddenly realized she hadn't looked at her phone all evening. She was pretty sure it was the longest she'd gone without checking for calls or texts in about five years without being unconscious. And, miraculously, the world hadn't ended. She had a voicemail from Tom.

  "Hi, Vanessa. You may not remember me, but this is Tom. You know, the 'best friend' you used to talk to everyday? If the man you're shacking up with hasn't completely scrambled your brain and caused you to lose all memory of the great metropolis in which I'm currently enjoying a latte, give me a call back. If he has, then I'm taking back those Chanel sunglasses I gave you." There was a pause. "You do remember what a latte is, don't you?"