From there, she browsed job listings, just as Cole had probably been doing, only for herself. If she didn’t start working at least part-time once he left, she thought she might really go nuts. College teaching was out. If not forever, certainly for now. She didn’t have elementary or secondary teaching certification, but talking to Michelle had reminded her of all the other jobs available in schools, and this was probably the right time of year to apply for positions open in the fall. She’d be okay working with younger children.
The county-wide public library system seemed to have regular openings, too. Continuing to browse, she discovered that the city of West Fork was looking for people to teach recreation department programs for the summer. Mostly fun stuff, some computer classes, art for all ages—and sports. Her gaze seemed to freeze on the listing for volleyball.
The next thing she knew, she’d opened the school district website. Feeling as if she was slipping surreptitiously into enemy territory, she read about the high school girls’ sports programs. They did have both volleyball and softball. The volleyball team had a disastrous record. She couldn’t imagine the league was that tough. Probably the team was so bad girls with any athletic ability went out for other sports. Erin couldn’t help wondering who coached it. A teacher who wanted the bump in her paycheck? Or someone who’d been guilted into taking it on despite zero experience, because otherwise the girls wouldn’t have a chance to play at all?
Could I?
Even the timid question was enough to throw her into a panic. No, no. Never again. Or at least...not yet.
How could she step foot in a gymnasium without being deluged by memories? Wouldn’t that be terrific—new volleyball coach midcourt in a catatonic state? Or shouting about ghosts and running for her life?
Back to the public library. She could shelve books, help with research questions, quiet noisy kids and encourage shy ones. Many of the jobs that didn’t require a master’s degree in information science were part-time, but that was all she wanted for now, anyway. The pay wasn’t great, either, but money wasn’t an issue yet. Just getting out there, meeting people, feeling useful and involved, was what she needed. Preparing to rejoin the human race.
When the doorbell rang again at seven thirty, she closed her laptop and tried to convince herself she ought to eat something.
Nobody is on the front porch.
A salad? What about a grilled cheese sandwich? Wasn’t that the classic comfort food?
He’d see the lights on in here. So what? she thought defiantly, before remembering he had a key. He wouldn’t let himself in, would he? He had to know she didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to talk to him.
Soup. There were a bunch of cans in the pantry. Soup was easy.
Fine. Erin went to the pantry and decided on tomato, even though it didn’t sound any more appealing than cream of mushroom or corn chowder or black bean.
She would not use Cole as an excuse to regress to the pitiful creature who’d thought it was an achievement when she succeeded in doing one useful thing a day. No more excuses. No leaning on anyone else. She’d made a start. Cole had helped. Reaching for the can opener, Erin thought, The rest is up to me.
She also decided that tomorrow she would let him say his piece.
* * *
WHEN THE FRONT door opened the next morning, Cole jumped.
Wearing her paint-spattered getup, Erin stood in the opening. “Cole?” Her voice was pleasant, the same one she might use for a stranger on her doorstep.
“Uh, can I come in?” He couldn’t seem to stop himself from shifting his weight from foot to foot, even if that did give away his discomfiture. “I’d like to talk to you.”
“Of course.” She stepped back, closing the door when he was inside. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d led him to the living room, where she’d take a vacuum salesman if she’d decided to listen to his pitch. Instead, he trailed her to the kitchen. “Coffee?” she asked.
He didn’t really want any more, but the offering and accepting felt like a bridge. “Thanks.”
She’d had it brewing and only had to pour. A moment later, they were sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, exactly as they’d been before he ruined the best thing that had happened to him in a very long time.
Erin waited, her expression inquiring and completely impersonal.
“I need to apologize,” he began.
“I’m pretty sure you already did. I’d just as soon not hear it again.” She betrayed not a shred of emotion.
“It took me a while to figure out—” Damn, it was hard to keep going in the face of that cool stare. Refusing to so much as twitch, he said baldly, “I got scared.”
A tiny crinkle appeared on Erin’s forehead. “Scared of what?”
“Of...letting myself feel too much for you.”
The crinkles became a full-blown frown. “I have never implied in any way that I expected a romance or...or sexual services.” The last was as sharp as an open blade. “Why you felt compelled to warn me off—”
“No,” he interrupted. “You don’t understand. I think...I was pushing you away to keep myself from being too tempted. That was a crappy thing to do.”
At least some emotion showed on her face, even if it was only bewilderment. “But I’ve never so much as touched you,” she said.
He knew what she meant, but she had touched him. She had. He remembered every time she’d laid a fine-boned hand on his forearm, every brush of her body in passing. He especially remembered how it felt to hold her for most of the night.
Cole’s gut knotted. Feeling sick, he knew he had to be completely honest.
He flashed back to something that had happened his first month in the pen. He’d been showering with the usual group of other men. Having ducked his head under the hot stream, he made the foolish mistake of relaxing his awareness. Not until he lifted his head and shook the water from his face did he realize the others had silently left the shower room, leaving water running to cover their retreat. In a terrifying instant, he’d understood that they had been ordered to leave him alone. Before he could so much as spin around, deliberate footsteps sounded on the tile floor behind him. Naked, with nothing in reach that could be turned into a weapon, he had been completely vulnerable.
He’d survived with no more than an ugly scar, but the memory still had the power to turn his stomach inside out. Then, he’d had no choice but to face his fears. Now, he could run away—or face them again.
He locked his gaze on hers, knowing how much she might see, but that was part of what he had to do. Less for himself than for her. Leaving her hurt wasn’t an option.
“I wanted you the first time I saw you,” he admitted. “I thought you were beautiful. Then, when you chased after me even though you knew what I am—” He cleared his throat. “You blew me away. I’ve...never known anyone like you. You were so determined to save me you’d have given me anything.”
Erin made an inarticulate sound that probably started as denial but failed to take shape.
“I wanted to take everything you’d give.” He had to suck in a deep breath before he let himself say, “I still do. But only a creep would do that.” Cole groaned. “No, I have to say this. I’m not somebody you’d want to keep for good.” His shoulders tried to draw up like a turtle pulling back into its shell. Lay it out, he told himself. “When you lose interest in me, I could be wrecked.”
Something breathtaking lit her face. “What makes you think—”
“I didn’t even go to college. You’re a professor.” When she opened her mouth, presumably to argue, he talked right over her. “We don’t have anything in common. I spent ten years in a prison cell while you had a real life. Friends, lovers. I can hardly remember having either. You had to teach me to drive again. I probably know less than little kids about computers or anyt
hing electronic. No matter where I go or what I do, I’ll never catch up.”
“You think knowing how to use apps on a phone is a measure of how worthwhile you are?”
He shook his head. “That’s not the point. The point is that I work with my hands—when I can get someone to believe I won’t murder them the minute they let down their guard. That’s what getting a job will come down to.”
Erin was quiet for a minute, and Cole had a sinking feeling. It told him that, despite his intentions, he’d hoped to fail at getting her to see how unequal they were.
“You’re a reader,” she said, surprising him. “When we talk about books, you understand them as well as I do. Your perspective is different and interesting.”
“That’s not—”
“Now it’s my turn,” she said sharply.
Cole nodded, conceding the point, pretending to be relaxed.
“At the rate you’re reading, you will catch up. I doubt most college grads read as voraciously as you do, or bother to keep educating themselves. And while you work with your hands, you do more than that. I saw you designing the ramp for the Zatlokas.”
“You saw me looking it up. There are formulas—”
She poked a finger at him to shut him up. “I have no doubt you could design something a lot more complex than a wheelchair ramp, especially once you get computer literate enough to use CAD software.”
Apparently, she’d really listened when he talked about computer-aided design and the class he regretted not taking.
“You’re an incredibly hard worker. Generous. You’ve made friends up and down the block, Cole. Helped people without waiting to be asked. They trust you.”
“They don’t know I’m an ex-con.”
“Do you really think they’d change their opinion if I told them now? Mr. Zatloka, whose life you may have saved? Mrs. Z, whose life you’ve made easier?” Erin shook her head. “You’re more than you think you are, Cole.” Her smile was sad. “But I also know I’m talking to a deaf man. You have to learn this for yourself.”
“You mean, even a college professor can’t teach me?”
His rejoinder startled her, and for a fleeting instant awakened complicated emotions she didn’t want him to see.
She only shook her head and said tartly, “And what makes you equate sex with hearts and flowers, anyway? We could have shared something in bed that didn’t mean commitment or hurt feelings later. We’d both have a memory. It’s a lot more likely you’d dump me than the other way around. You’ve made it clear you’re ready to move on. What makes you think I’d try to cling?”
Hadn’t she understood what he was saying? He would be the one who held on with everything in him, even as she slipped away. Cole already knew his feelings would be hurt. He hurt enough, just thinking about moving out of the apartment, about not seeing her every day, if only for a few minutes while they ate lunch.
But he’d become stuck on what she’d said before that. We could have shared something in bed that didn’t mean commitment or hurt feelings later. We’d both have a memory.
Cole would give almost anything for that memory. When he was alone, he could take it out and hold it, his one treasured possession.
She seemed to shake herself. “Forget what I said. You’re a man. You’ve probably found women. I’ll bet that was the first thing you thought about when you walked out of prison, wasn’t it?”
“No.”
Her eyes widened. That voice hadn’t sounded like him.
“You didn’t...” she began tentatively.
“What I thought about was not being watched all the time. Being free to make my own decisions. To go for a walk in the middle of the night if I felt like it, dive into a lake, not see anyone wearing a uniform. I was hopeful and scared.” He leaned forward, his voice raw from his intensity. “Do you know what it’s like to have no place to go, nobody willing to take you in? To have no goddamn idea where you’re going to lay your head, or whether you’ll screw up without even knowing what you did and find yourself back inside so fast your head spins?”
“I... No.”
Muscles rigid, he said, “All those years, did I think about how it felt, having a soft woman beneath me? Yeah. But during the stretch before I met you, I was too pissing scared to put that on my to-do list.”
They stared at each other, her eyes dilated, his... He didn’t know.
At last she whispered, “What about since you’ve been here?”
He shook his head. All he’d been able to see was her. She must have guessed that.
“Then—” Her gaze broke away from his. She appeared to focus on the kitchen window.
Then? Cole’s body tensed. Had she been about to ask why they couldn’t have that memory? Suddenly, he couldn’t think of a single reason making love with this woman would be a bad idea. Down the line, he’d hurt, but at least he’d know she wanted him.
“I was being stupid. When you want something too much...” He had to clear his throat.
Her vivid eyes met his again. “You mean...?”
“Yeah.” Did she understand what he was saying? He should make a move...but pride wouldn’t let him.
She kept staring at him. He was getting dizzy and realized he’d been holding his breath by the time she finally spoke. “I don’t know. The other day...you made me feel really awful.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” he said huskily. “I... Please.”
After one more, breathless moment, Erin got to her feet, circled the table and laid a hand on his cheek. He saw fear and doubt on her face, but also something that had his heart pounding.
He pulled her onto his lap and captured her mouth with his.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ERIN COULDN’T BELIEVE she was doing this. She’d intended to accept his apology with dignity and politely ask for the house key back. Instead, here she was sitting sideways on his hard thighs, her body feeling boneless as she melted against him. Vulnerable, in a way she’d never been during any past relationship.
His kiss was gentle instead of all-in passionate. His lips brushed hers; he nibbled. He rubbed his nose against hers and nuzzled the crook of her neck.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Breathing,” he murmured. He lifted his head, disbelief the primary emotion in his blue eyes. Or maybe that wasn’t right. Maybe it was wonder. “I can’t believe...” His throat worked.
Wonder. No man had ever looked at her as if she was his dream. The way she started to choke up freaked her out and she had to push back. Wait. This was a man who hadn’t so much as kissed a woman in ten very long years. Of course she was his dream! She could be any woman—
Except she didn’t believe that. With his looks and muscles, his pride and instinctive kindness, he could’ve had sexual partners since he came to West Fork if he chose.
When you want something too much... Me.
He tugged out the elastic that had confined her hair and sifted his fingers through the strands, appearing fascinated.
What if this was a con?
But if that was what he’d intended, he wouldn’t have screwed up so badly the first time he kissed her. He could have had her then—she’d pretty much offered herself. Which meant she had to believe him.
Just...savor every minute.
She kissed and nibbled the hard edge of his clean-shaved jaw until she reached his ear. She liked his ears, had studied them entirely too often. Now she nipped his earlobe, then sucked gently.
He jerked, his hands tightening on her waist and thigh. His teeth closed on the side of her neck. When she went still, he applied enough suction for her to imagine his mouth on her breast.
With a tiny whimper, she reached for his T-shirt. Cole cooperated, his gaze never leaving her face as she tugged the soft fabric up. Wh
en she didn’t move fast enough, he took over and yanked it off, tossing it aside. Her breath caught at the sight of his chest. Powerful muscles slid smoothly beneath the skin. Soft brown hair formed a mat punctuated by a thin line that disappeared beneath the waistband of his cargo pants.
She had to explore. Erin would have thought him unaffected if she didn’t feel the shiver and flex of those muscles beneath her fingertips. His stomach was as hard as she’d imagined, and it would have been impossible not to notice the hard bar of his erection pressing against her hip.
She must have shivered, too, because he suddenly said, “My turn,” and wrenched open her ragged chambray shirt. A few buttons might have gone flying, but Erin didn’t care, not with this man looking at her as if he’d never seen anything so beautiful. He slid a fingertip just inside the top of her bra, leaving goose bumps behind. She could see that her nipples had hardened, poking at the thin cotton fabric of her practical athletic bra. Cole didn’t seem to notice it wasn’t exactly sexy.
“I have to see you,” he said suddenly, his voice guttural. When he yanked the bra upward, she raised her arms to help. Moving so fast she was stunned, he had her bent backward over his arm and was studying her with an intent, hungry look, color slashing across his cheekbones. She gripped the back of his neck, her fingers digging in, as his mouth closed over her nipple.
When her hips began to rock, he lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes almost black. “You’re sure?”
Nothing could have made her say no. Not now. She ached for him. Her lips formed the word yes. Even soundless, it was enough.
He surged to his feet, lifting her in his arms.
“Wait! I can walk.”
She saw his teeth and wasn’t sure if it was a grin or something else. “You don’t weigh anything.”
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