Deja You

by Sandoval, Lynda

  “Should I move a prudent distance away?”

  She shook her head, taking another bite through a chuckle. “You indulged my urge, so you’re safe.”

  “Thank goodness.” He grinned, sipping from his milk shake. “So, tell me about your family. I’ve told you all about mine.”

  “Well, let’s see.” She thought through another bite. “Mom and Dad have been married forever. They lived here until they both retired two years ago, and now they live in Crested Butte.”

  “Do you miss them?”

  “Of course. But they visit all the time. And I go there. It’s not far. They have their dream property, at last. My mom’s a potter. She was the art teacher at our high school since I was a kid—the teacher everyone adored. Cagney especially.”

  “She’s an artist?”

  “Was. Her dad’s kind of a jerk, and strongly opposed an art career, but it’s a whole, ’nother long story.” She grimaced. “Anyway, Mom finally has her own workshop, with different-sized kilns, all sorts of shelves and drying racks and, most of all, space.”

  “Cool. Good for her.”

  Erin nodded. “She’s in heaven. Dad was the high school phys ed teacher. Now he works ski patrol part-time. He tried the ‘retired old guy’ thing, but first of all, he’s not that old. Secondly, he drove Mom nuts.”

  “We men have a knack for that,” Nate said, ruefully.

  “Yep. I think he grew a little stir-crazy himself.” She shrugged. “Anyway, he loves it, and it keeps him in shape and healthy.”

  “Brothers and sisters?”

  “Only child. I always wanted a sister.”

  He nodded, listening to the birds and studying his and Erin’s feet side by side on the picnic bench. He tried to keep his tone light. “How do they feel about the pregnancy?”

  “I knew that part was coming.” She eyed him. “They were shocked at first, of course. Since I’m…single. But they couldn’t be more excited now. I mean, I’m twenty-nine years old, and they weren’t sure I could ever conceive, either, so they’d pretty much given up on the grandparent plan.” She shook her head. “This kid is going to be so spoiled, Nate. I have to apologize for them in advance.”

  “Don’t worry, he’ll be getting it from both sides. My sisters and Mom?” He rolled his eyes. “Pure insanity.”

  They shared a smile.

  He held her gaze. “Do your parents know about me?”

  She paused a beat. “Not…exactly.”

  He pressed his lips together, nodded. Her words left him beyond disappointed, even though, deep down, he’d been expecting them. His family knew the whole story. Then again, he’d had to explain why he was up and moving to Colorado, seemingly on a whim. They’d rolled with it, as he’d known they would, and were all chomping at the bit to come for a visit and meet Erin. But he begged them to hold off until he got his bearings, figured out what this strange relationship between him and Erin was all about.

  “I’m going to tell them,” she rushed to add. “It’s just, well, they can be old-fashioned. I’m trying to figure out how to explain that we’re not a couple and make them realize that it’s really okay.”

  Was it? he wondered, peering over at her. She was so achingly beautiful in the sunshine, humming in ecstasy over her single scoop of ice cream. Simple pleasures. She took his breath away every time he saw her. “Anything I can do to help?”

  She quirked her mouth apologetically. “Bear with me? I’m not keeping your identity from them because I’m ashamed of you or anything. If we were together, it would be a whole different story.”

  If only they were. “No worries. I get the parent thing. But you’ll tell them before—”

  “Yes. Definitely.”

  He didn’t point out that she’d begun finishing his sentences, but it cheered him. Maybe they did have a chance after all. The challenge was proving he was worth risking her already-broken heart.

  She scraped the last vestiges of ice cream from her dish with the pink, plastic spoon and ate it, whimpering when she peered into the empty cup.

  “If you weren’t here, I’d lick this cup like a shameless dog.” She stilled. “Oh.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I think the baby liked it as much as I did. Feel.”

  She reached for his hand without an iota of hesitation, then laid it flat against the side of her belly. Beneath his palm came the press of a tiny foot, once, then again. Harder.

  “Ouch,” she said, frowning down at her belly with a playful shake of her head. “Little bully.”

  Unexpectedly, tears of awe rose to his eyes. “He’s really a little person in there.”

  She smiled. Then, noticing how choked up Nate had become, she touched his face. “Amazing, isn’t it? And kind of freaky, if you want the whole truth. Hard to explain, but I sort of feel like one of those Russian nesting dolls, where you pop one open, and a smaller version’s inside.”

  He could only hope their baby was a smaller version of Erin. Talk about a gorgeous kid. He clenched his jaws, fighting back the flashes of emotion bursting inside him. “Thank you. For sharing that.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. He’s your baby, too.”

  Their gazes locked.

  He had so much he wanted to say to her, but he didn’t know how to start, or if his words would even be welcomed. He opened his mouth. Nothing emerged.

  “Shh.” She laid a finger along his lips. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “God, Erin,” he said, his tone husky. “The truth is, I would freeze this moment if I could, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

  He impulsively pulled her into his arms, burying his face into the soft heat of her neck. She stiffened initially, then let herself relax against him, smoothing her hands up and down his back. He felt the pulse in her neck against his lips and kissed it.

  She allowed it. Even seemed to nuzzle closer.

  “Ah, Nate.” She sighed.

  “I know.”

  This was one moment he didn’t mind being in.

  Chapter 10

  She’d never imagined a simple scoop of ice cream could become an emotional bridge between two people. But, following their afternoon in the park, her connection with Nate shifted in a million subtle ways. They began talking on the phone, then hanging out together, as though doing so went without saying. Little by little, the omnipresent awkwardness between them dissipated.

  They watched her favorite reality TV show side by side on his couch or hers in the evenings, after which she’d read and he’d work. He and Boomer joined her and Finn on her daily morning walks. And, their conversation grew easier every day.

  More importantly, their silences transformed from clumsy to comfortable and compatible—something she hadn’t expected to happen so soon, if at all. She didn’t know what it all meant, exactly, just that it felt good.

  The first time she read a whole chapter of a book without commenting, and without feeling self-conscious about lying there in silence on his couch while he worked, she knew they’d reached a different level. But, a different level of what? That was the question. All for the baby? Platonic? Platonic with options? Romantic? Try as she might, she couldn’t get a read.

  There’d been no further physical intimacy. Not even another kiss on the neck, although she relived that delicious first one as she closed her eyes to sleep each night. And yet, despite their obvious physical distance, she still felt closer to him than ever.

  She’d even gone with him to shop for nursery furniture for his condo. Of course, that trip ended abruptly when she’d succumbed to an emotional meltdown at the thought of being away from the baby overnight.

  The pregnancy hormones hit, and BOOM—from normal to sobbing and shaking in a matter of seconds, just as they were about to choose between the natural wood or sweet little painted crib. But, reminiscent of the bar scene that fateful night, Nate had whisked her out of the furniture store immediately, comforted her until she’d recovered her composure, and they hadn�
��t brought up shared custody issues since.

  Time for that later, she supposed.

  All these snippets combined added up to no more than a dip of her toe into the water of their new, strange compromise, but so far she hadn’t felt the urge to pull back.

  For her, that was huge.

  As amazing as it seemed, in a couple short weeks, Nate had begun to feel like a fixture in her life. Dinner without him now struck her as odd. They didn’t plan it, they just did it. Her house, his house, a restaurant. Didn’t matter. Finn refused to walk now until his new beloved buddy, Boomer, showed up.

  Life felt somehow fuller with Nate around.

  Still, there was so much they didn’t know about each other, which amounted to a huge concrete wall between them, at least in her mind. And she had no idea how to breach it.

  Her friends, wisely, stayed out of their blossoming whatever-it-was…relationship, she supposed, was as good a word as any. Even matchmaker Faith had, surprisingly, kept her trap shut, which was surely due to Brody’s thumbscrew influence. Erin appreciated the space.

  But when Cagney invited the whole crew to her loft for her monthly, much anticipated dinner party, Erin and Nate sent a positive RSVP—as a couple. Or a duo. Or, like, they were going to show up in the same car together. Whatever.

  The point is, it didn’t feel weird.

  Which, in and of itself, was weird.

  Nevertheless, when the evening of the dinner party arrived, nerves bounced around inside Erin’s tummy like a bevy of racquetballs with minds of their own. It was the first time all her friends, as a group, would observe her and Nate in this new “format,” and she hoped that didn’t spell disaster with a capital D. Things were still fragile between the two of them, despite the progress they’d made. She needed time to work it all out in her own mind before she spoke about it aloud with anyone. Really, what would she say?

  She’d borrowed the least maternity-looking sundress in the pack from her coworker, Ginny Luther’s, excellent pregnancy closet, appreciating the way the V-neck halter highlighted her enhanced cleavage. The deep turquoise perfectly matched Nate’s eyes, which she hadn’t planned. It also matched the beaded sandals and drawstring handbag, which she had.

  Hair done, makeup on, she twirled a bit in front of the mirror, surprised that she felt sexy and filled with anticipation. She hadn’t felt sexy in…well, forever about covered it. And she hadn’t anticipated a date—if you could call this a date—since high school.

  Probably because she hadn’t had one since.

  Pathetic.

  She was leaning toward the mirror slipping simple hoop earrings in when the doorbell rang.

  Her heart revved.

  Finn barked, launched himself from the window seat in her bedroom, and clickity-clacked toward the entryway.

  “It’s unlocked,” she called out, knowing Nate would hear her through the open windows.

  She heard the ancient door hinges creak, then the murmured sounds of Nate talking to Finn as she gave herself a final once-over.

  Oh, God. It felt like a date.

  Self-consciousness hit her like a rogue wave, knocking her flat, but hell, it would have to do.

  She took in a deep, cleansing breath.

  She could do this.

  She wanted to do this.

  Grabbing her handbag off the end of the bed before she lost her nerve, she snicked off the ceiling fan and headed out. She found Nate by the front door, bent forward giving Finn an excellent scratch behind the ears. Finn looked love-struck, the big sap.

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Hey.”

  Nate glanced up and froze. His eyes widened. “Whoa.” He straightened slowly, taking in her appearance with an appreciative gleam in his eyes.

  Thrilled by his response but determined to keep it casual, she said, “I take that to mean I don’t look like a big, turquoise balloon float from the Macy’s Parade?”

  “Far from it. You look amazing.”

  “Amazing’s probably a stretch, but you’re a generous man. Thank you.” She reached into the jar of dog treats on the hallway console table and pulled out a biscuit, handing it to Finn, patting him on the head.

  As the dog crunched away, she assessed Nate. “You look pretty darn amazing yourself,” she said, in as light a tone as she could manage considering how dizzy she’d become in his presence.

  Amazing? Understatement.

  He wore khaki pants and a loose, black, short-sleeved shirt that made his eye color stand out even more than usual. Casual, masculine, yum-yum-yummy. His hair had been trimmed, but his face bore an attractive amount of groomed stubble that begged to be touched. He looked like a movie star—no lie.

  And he was her date.

  Impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, inhaling the citrus scent of his skin as she did so. Just a friendly greeting, she told herself. As she pulled away, he grabbed her elbow to stop her. Their gazes met, held. His darkened, then dropped to her lightly glossed lips. Pure primal craving bound them together.

  Her throat cinched, and all the key parts of her body reacted.

  Moving closer, he kissed her gently. Once, then again, letting his mouth linger against hers. “Thank you.”

  She swallowed, the sensual stimulation of his stubble and warm breath against her mouth leaving her nerves humming. “You’re welcome. Ready?”

  “You bet I am,” he said, cryptically, leaving her to wonder exactly what question he’d been answering.

  Once they were seat belted in and on the road, the tsunami of heightened sexual awareness between them retreated, thank goodness, but the emotional destruction remained in her brain. She needed to regroup. She didn’t want to walk into the party surrounded by a cloud of pheromones, after all. Her friends would be watching them closely enough as it was.

  Focus on the present.

  “Do you know the way?” Well, it sounded casual enough. Yay, her. She surreptitiously admired his hand, draped over the top of the steering wheel. She knew what those skilled hands felt like on her body, inside her—

  Stop it, Erin. He tipped his head to the side, seemingly unaware of her turmoil. “I looked it up on computer mapping, but it appeared to be a warehouse.” He shrugged. “I probably had the address wrong.”

  Erin smiled. “Nope, that’s the place.”

  He flashed her a quizzical glance. “Cagney lives in a warehouse?”

  “A warehouse loft,” she corrected. “Her single act of rebellion against her father in the past twelve years, which rocks. She doesn’t rebel much anymore, unfortunately, but back in the day, she was the queen of it. Man, was her dad pissed when she bought that old building,” she added, savoring the memory.

  “I can appreciate rebellion, but why would she want to live in a warehouse in the first place?”

  “Wait until you see it,” Erin said. “She’s the renovation queen. The ground level is still unfinished, but she lives on the second and third floors. It’s probably the most amazing residence in the entire Gulch. Plus, Cagney always wanted to live in a huge loft. Of course,” she added ruefully, “that was when she still planned on being a working artist and using half the loft as her studio.”

  Nate flicked on his blinker, then merged onto the Gulch’s main drag. “What happened with that?”

  “Long story. But the bottom line is, her dad fought so hard against it that she eventually lost her will.”

  “Her dad sounds like a piece of work.”

  “Totally. And he’s the chief of police.”

  He flashed her another quick glance before refocusing on the road. “She works for the guy?”

  “Yep.” Erin shook her head. “It’s a damn shame, too. Cagney’s a great cop. Must be in her blood. But I don’t think she’s happy. My mom still waxes poetic about little Casey’s unbelievable talent and what a crime it is to waste it. But, she had utterly no support from home.”

  Nate sucked one side of his cheek in, sympathetic but still exuding optimism. “
Well, she’s got her own home now, and it’s never too late. She’s only twenty-nine. Maybe she’ll go back to it.”

  Erin hadn’t mentioned the heartbreak. The betrayal. The loss that led up to Cagney’s total abandonment of her life’s passion. So much loss in Erin’s little circle of friends. Her heart squeezed for Cagney. For all of them, and she sighed. “I don’t know, Nate. Sometimes, for some things, it is too late.”

  Before he could comment further, she pointed up toward the huge building they approached. “There it is. We can just park anywhere.”

  Festive lights shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and Erin found herself excited about another celebratory night of good food and laughter with her friends. And with Nate.

  In fact, she realized as they parked and got out, it wouldn’t feel complete without him.

  Just as she’d suspected, everything had changed.

  Dinner had been spectacular, not to mention low in both fat and carbs in deference to Erin’s weight gain directive. Not that you could tell from the incredible flavors. She loved Cagney’s quiet consideration of her.

  Erin and Nate hadn’t been able to avoid slipping into their newfound comfort with each other. She even caught herself finishing a few of his sentences, and vice versa. She found each of them watching the other as he or she spoke to the group. The way couples do. And throughout the evening, she sensed her friends, one by one, noticing, sizing things up.

  After Nate’s copious compliments on the loft while they enjoyed coffee and dessert, Cagney had offered to give him the full tour and regale him with the tale of her solo, two-year-long renovations. Erin knew Cagney loved to talk about all she’d done—it was as artsy as she’d allowed herself to be since prom night. Though he’d seen it all before, Brody tagged along. He and Nate had really hit it off. Maybe because they were the only two guys in the mix.

  Meanwhile, she, Lexy and Faith cleared the table, chattering about this and that as they did so. Shoes, TV, work gossip—all the normal stuff.