“It’s all good.” He reached for his seat belt. “Let’s get you home.” The belt clicked shut.
She nodded in a daze.
The purr of the engine filled the comfortable silence as his truck chugged along the curving roads, soon rolling down into the village of Starling. He parked behind her Audi.
She unbuckled her belt, hand on the door handle. “Thanks. I had a nice time.”
“Better than nice, I hope.” He’d almost forgotten about his constant struggle to stay on the right track. Even when she’d questioned him about his scars, that old pang of loss and betrayal hadn’t taken over. “I want to see you again.”
“I’d like that. A lot. It’s just—I have a busy week ahead, training Shannon on the company software and there’s inventory scheduled to arrive Tuesday.”
“You call me then and this time, you choose the place. My schedule’s flexible this week.”
Her dimple showed as her face broke into a grin. “It’s going to be hard to out-do tonight.” She leaned forward to kiss him goodbye.
Their lips met. Time slowed as he allowed himself, just for a moment, to get lost in her scent, her texture, her sweetness. His jeans tightened. Blood rushed in his ears. No. He had to stop or he wouldn’t be able to let her go.
He pulled back and gripped the steering wheel. “You better go before I change my mind and take you right here.”
“Promises, promises,” she smiled, jumping out of his truck and closing the door. She slipped into the darkness then cut a swath through his headlights as she crossed in front of his truck, giving him one last glimpse of her in that tight, little skirt and silk blouse. He shifted in his seat and watched until her Audi pulled away and drove out of sight before pulling out onto the road for the short drive home.
Taking it slow with Elizabeth would be hard.
Real hard.
Chapter Seven
‡
Elizabeth’s heart performed a triple flip when he walked inside the restaurant, right on schedule. She waved from the table for two she’d requested of the server upon her arrival twenty minutes ago, having caught a ride to work this morning with Shannon so she wouldn’t have to worry about her car tonight. She wanted the evening to be perfect. At first, she’d considered inviting Jeremy to the place her family frequented then changed her mind. No need to shove their differences in his face. He was aware of them as much as she. So, she’d taken Tory’s advice and suggested The Brown Dog Café and Wine Bar. It wasn’t a five-star legend of Lake Placid like the other restaurant, but it had great reviews. The added bonus was its short walking distance from her shop, allowing her plenty of time to change out of athletic gear into a skirt and blouse.
Heads turned as Jeremy moved toward her in his black button-down and black denims, but he didn’t seem to notice, his eyes only on her. His hair was shorter, the strong angles of his face even sexier—if that was humanly possible.
She stood, trying to catch her breath. “Hi.”
“Hey.” He brushed his lips against hers before sliding into the opposite chair.
She sank onto her seat, wanting more, his scent and touch making her weak in the knees.
He glanced out the window overlooking Mirror Lake. “I’ve never been here.” He turned back to her, his sapphire eyes sweeping her face. “You look wonderful. Nice necklace, too.”
“Thanks.” She fingered the string of pearls she’d received at her sweet sixteen. “They were a gift from my grandparents.” She smiled, thinking about Gram and Gramps. “They own property on the north side of town. Used to live here only in the summer, but now pretty much year-round when they aren’t cruising somewhere.”
“Hmm.” He gazed at the wine menu on the table.
She picked it up and opened it. “My sister, Tory, said the selection is really good. Do you have a preference?” She handed the menu to him.
A server approached their table. “Ah, I see you already have the menu. Is there a bottle you’d like to enjoy with your dinner tonight?” He glanced between them.
Jeremy dropped the menu on the table like it had burned him. “No, not for me, thanks.” He glanced out the window.
The server turned to her. “For you, Miss?”
She retrieved the menu and double-checked the prices. They were the same as when she’d checked online. Very reasonable. What was the problem? “I’ll have a glass of the Chilean Malbec.” She looked at Jeremy for the answer.
But he was still staring out the window, his mouth a firm line.
“If we could have a bottle of San Pellegrino, too?” she asked, handing the menu off.
“Certainly.” Their server smiled. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
Jeremy’s silence ate at her. He must be struggling more than she’d realized. For some reason, she’d gotten the vibe he really liked his truck and that was the reason he still drove it. Not because he couldn’t afford to buy a new car. Aww, damn. And she’d practically bragged about her new Audi the other night, like it was no big deal.
A knot grew in her stomach at her mistake. “I know what it’s like when you’re starting out. Money’s tight. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Don’t worry though, I invited you, I’ll take care of the—”
His voice was firm. “We’re on a date, and I’ll pay.”
“But—”
The server returned with their drinks, cutting off her response, then they ordered their meals, effectively dropping the subject.
Dinner conversation was sporadic, Jeremy resorting to the small talk he professed to hate so much. An hour later, she was mentally exhausted, angry with herself for having upset him.
Their server returned, saving them both from any more talk about the amount of rain in June compared to this month. “You certain everything’s satisfactory, Miss?”
She nodded for the third time that night to the man’s concern over her lack of appetite and pasted on a smile. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.”
“Would you like it wrapped, then?”
“Sure. Why not?” She handed him her plate. Good thing her mother wasn’t around to fret over her.
The server addressed them both. “Would you like to see the dessert menu?” He recited the specials.
On any other occasion, her mouth would’ve been watering, but all she could think about was how poorly the evening was going. “No, thanks.”
The server turned to Jeremy.
“We’re ready for the check.” Jeremy’s eyes were on her as he spoke.
“Very well, sir.”
As soon as the server was out of earshot, Jeremy leaned forward and grasped her hands. “Stop.”
“What?”
“I can’t have you thinking it’s the money. I can afford to pay for a good meal. Hell, I can afford to pay for a hundred good meals here.”
“Then what’s the problem? All we’ve done the past half hour is talk about the weather.”
“Screw the weather.” He tossed his linen napkin on the table.
The server returned with the check and her to-go bag. He turned to leave, giving them a moment to settle up with the usual credit card.
“Wait.” Jeremy glanced at the bill and pulled out the cash, handing it to the server with a smile.
“Thank you, sir. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” The server nodded to them both before leaving to check on another table.
She stood and walked with Jeremy out of the restaurant into the cool night air, her mind swirling with questions.
*
Jeremy blew out a breath as they left the restaurant and headed toward the town parking lot across the street, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt and shoving his fists into his new pair of denims—the clothes he’d bought for her. But he couldn’t hide behind new clothes and pretend he was something he wasn’t. It was only a matter of time before he’d need to share the ugly truth with her. He kicked a pebble in his path. He just hadn’t expected it to be tonight. He wanted to
romance her. He’d become so enamored with her that he’d forgotten the wine part of wine-and-dine. But which was worse, letting the woman think he couldn’t afford to pay for a nice meal or telling her he was an ex-drunk? His fingers touched the warm metal of his three recovery coins and he sighed, staring straight ahead as they approached his beat-up truck to return them to Starling.
He glanced at her, her brows puckered and her mouth down-turned. She was meant to be happy; he had no right to drag her down with him. He’d really screwed up their evening. Maybe she was better off without him.
They reached the truck and once again she made it to the passenger door before he had a chance to open it for her.
“I should’ve gone with my gut and just invited you to my place. I’m a pretty decent cook.”
“Yeah?” It seemed like she was having her own regrets.
“Yeah.”
He turned the key in the ignition, sending up a silent prayer of thanks when the old engine started. “Well, we have something in common then.”
“I especially love to bake. Always have. I think it’s because I was always the one ill with a cold and I’d get left behind with Gram while my brother and sisters would go skating or skiing with my parents.” She let out a breath. “We still bake together whenever we get the chance. I love the mixing and decorating and icing.”
“And licking the batter spoon.”
She laughed. “You know it.”
He loved to see the glow return to her cheeks and her smile reach her eyes. He had to tell her it wasn’t her fault. It was all on him. One hundred fifty percent. He turned on the radio and they listened to her favorite Adirondack station all the way back to Starling.
He pulled the truck into his dirt driveway and coasted to his usual parking spot, headlights shining on his house. He hadn’t realized he’d decided to bring her here instead of her house until he was here. But now that they were parked, he couldn’t turn back.
“This is your place?” Her face fell.
He looked at the faded, peeling paint of the two-bedroom ranch, the unkempt yard, the gravel driveway overtaken by weeds, and nodded. “Want to come inside?” He heard the dare in his voice.
She peered at him. “Sure, but under one condition.” She hesitated. “Tell me what happened back at the restaurant.”
“I will.” He clicked off the headlights, turning the world pitch black for a few moments until his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the moon shining over the roof of his home. He nodded. “I could use a cup of coffee. How about you?”
She smiled and reached out her hand, setting it on his knee. “That sounds perfect. Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For trusting me.”
He stifled a snort and opened the driver side door. “Watch your step. The ground’s uneven in parts.”
He waited for her to move around the front of the pickup then guided her into the house, his hand on the small of her back. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to be a gentleman. But then, Elizabeth was all lady.
They stepped inside and he led the way to the kitchen.
Her eyes grew wide. “I had no clue. It’s gorgeous. No one would ever guess this was on the inside of your house.” She looked at him curiously. “Why is that?”
He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. As always, the coins reminded him of his strength, of how far he’d come. He was no longer the man who’d almost destroyed his own life. He leaned back against the counter. “I imagine you don’t enter houses like mine very often.”
“What do you mean?”
“C’mon, Elizabeth. We both know you come from money. I’m guessing you attended boarding schools and graduated from Yale.”
“Private schools, and I attended Harvard.” She crossed her arms and lifted her chin.
“Like I said. You’ve probably never met a guy like me, someone that had to claw his way up from nothing.”
She opened her mouth then closed it again.
“It’s okay. I get it.” He took a step toward her. “There’s a reason I’m saying this. You’re sweet and sexy and funny all rolled into one. I wouldn’t have asked you out if I didn’t think you were something special. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that you were shocked when you saw my truck last week and my house tonight. I get that you’ve been sheltered, but if you want to be with me, I won’t have you feeling sorry for me. I’m proud of all I’ve accomplished and where I’m going.”
She gazed at him for a long moment before she turned to leave the kitchen, her hips swaying beneath her tight black skirt as she disappeared through the den.
He muttered a curse. Had he just screwed up any chance he had with her? He went after her and looked around until he spied her through the solarium’s open door. He moved to the room’s entrance, leaned against the frame, and waited.
She stood there in the dark, her back to him as she stared out at the lake.
“I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“Your view’s pretty, too.” She turned around.
He swallowed. The woman was pure poetry, the moonlight filtering across her features. “Tell me about it.” Had she forgiven him?
She answered his question with a sweet smile, trailing her fingers across the round table next to her.
All he could think about was kissing her and stripping off her clothes. He’d start with that silk blouse. But he didn’t want to rush it, rush them. “Regular or decaf?”
“My manager is opening tomorrow. I can stay up late if you’d like to hang out and…whatever.” She brushed past him with a smile, leading the way back into the kitchen.
He followed, consumed by thoughts of those perfect, round globes of flesh. How could he resist? As long as he remembered a woman like her would never fall for a guy like him, he’d be okay. “High-octane it is.”
He set up the coffee maker, chose two mugs from the cabinet, grabbed flavored creamer from the fridge and two spoons from the drawer, and glanced around, looking for more to keep his hands busy so he wouldn’t make the mistake of running them through her silky hair just yet. If he touched her, the sizzle between them would flare into a raging inferno. Those walls he’d built protecting him from the world better be fireproof, and he wasn’t thinking about the house they stood within but his heart’s home.
“Come here.” She reached out and touched his hand.
The slow burn of their connection had him setting the spoons on the counter with a rattle, thoughts of keeping her at an emotional arm’s length fading fast.
She leaned in, her scent his final undoing. He heard his ragged sigh as his hands moved of their own volition, needy fingers threading through the silk length of her hair and tipping her face up to meet his. He dipped his head, his eyes on hers. He dared her to think this meant anything other than another midsummer kiss. It couldn’t. He wouldn’t allow it. Then their lips met and her contented sigh broke the quiet, and he knew he was fooling himself. He was a planet trapped in Elizabeth’s orbit, with no other option but to keep spinning within the pull of her gravity.
Chapter Eight
‡
Her coffee forgotten, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his waist and savored his lean strength. He kissed her with passion, but she knew in her heart he was holding back. There was far more to Jeremy Engel than met the eyes, and seeing the inside of his house had proven her suspicion. The man held everyone at a distance, including her. The tension in his body and intensity of his kiss told her he wanted her. What made him hold back from sharing more? They could have so much more. What had hurt him so much? She pulled back, biting her lip. She had to know—before this thing between them went any further. “Who was she?”
He stared at her lips. “What are you talking about?” He moved in for another kiss, his expression determined.
She shook her head, with equal resolve. “Who was the woman who broke your heart?”
He evaded the question. “You, if you don’t let me keep kissing you.”
His tone was light, but she caught the faint sadness in his eyes before he masked it.
“I’m serious.”
“Me, too.” He leaned in for another kiss, his hands moving from her hair to roam freely across her back around her ribs and down to settle on her hips.
She shivered, a tremble spreading through her body. He’d answer her questions later. Now, she wanted to enjoy all of him, or at least all that he was able to give.
She moved her hands from his shoulders to his face, caressing the scruff, trailing her lips from his mouth to his neck. “I like you,” she whispered against his ear.
He groaned and pulled her closer. “Then come to bed.”
His words were a cross between a demand and a plea, a heady combination. She looked up into his tortured eyes, unable to deny him. “Yes.”
He squeezed her close then took her hand in his.
She wobbled with anticipation as he led her through the dark living room to his bedroom.
He stopped near the bed and turned on a lamp, its light casting soft shadows across the simple, masculine space. “Are you sure?” He sat on the edge of the mattress and gazed at her. She melted for him. He was hurting inside. She wanted to nurture him, heal him…love him.
Love?
She moved to stand between his legs and began to unbutton her blouse. “Definitely.”
*
Jeremy closed his eyes for a moment, thanking heaven above for his answered prayer. She wouldn’t look at him the same way once she learned about his past, but for tonight he’d live in the moment, soak in her goodness, her current vision of him.
He opened his eyes again. She was standing there, her pale beauty reflected in the moonlight streaming into the dark room. He reached out, half-expecting her to disappear and fascinated by the silken warmth of her stomach when his fear was proved wrong. She stood there, quiet and accepting.
He glanced up.
Her face was solemn, as if she sensed the significance of the moment.
Her small, warm hand covered his on her stomach and she leaned toward him, the touch of her lips on his cheek delicate. Belated guilt at his deception suddenly threatened to overwhelm him. “You’re too good.”
His Kiss (Summer in New York Book 2) Page 7