by Joan Hohl
* * *
That week alternately sped up or crawled by for Tina. When she was with Eric in the evening, the hours flew, seemingly contracting into mere moments. The opposite applied when she was away from him, minutes expanding into long hours.
Like greedy Midas, Tina and Eric hoarded their gold of hours; their favorite hiding place was Tina’s bed.
And there, with all the verve and enthusiasm of intrepid adventurers, they eagerly explored the alluring terrain of each other’s bodies, while probing the depths of their individual sensuality.
Tina had never before known such happiness, had never before basked in the unadulterated joy of just being alive.
Questions and doubts no longer picked with nervous little fingers at the fabric of her mind. Tina unhesitatingly admitted that she loved Eric with every particle of her being.
That is, she admitted it to herself; she had not murmured one word of love to him. Not because she was afraid to broach the subject; she wasn’t. She firmly believed that he was as much in love with her as she was with him. His actions, his attitude, the glow in his crystal blue eyes when he looked at her, all spoke in silent eloquence of his love for her. No, she was not in the least afraid to speak the words.
Tina was simply waiting for Eric to speak them first.
* * *
The jury was no longer out; the verdict was in and emblazoned on his mind like the legendary words carved inside crudely rendered hearts on countless tree trunks.
Eric Wolfe loved Christina Kranas.
While he sat perched on the edge of the chair at the window, watching the house across the street, Eric came to the acceptance of his love for Tina. It was Friday afternoon, one week to the day after his initial approach of her.
Was it really possible to fall in love in a week? Eric mused, stifling a yawn triggered by utter boredom. Must be, he reasoned, shifting to ease the numbness in his posterior. He was living proof of the possibility.
You ain’t quite right, Wolfe, Eric chided himself, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Only a slightly bent cop would be dumb enough to fall for a suspect.
But was Tina still a suspect? Did he believe...
No. The denial leapt into Eric’s head before the question of her association with the drug dealers was fully formed. Eric wasn’t sure exactly when he had reached the conclusion that Tina was innocent of any involvement in the illegal operation, but the precise date and time didn’t matter.
He’d had a gut feeling about the veracity of the tip from his informant, and he now had the same gut feeling about Tina’s innocence.
Bottom line was, Eric trusted Tina, as well as loved her. He knew, unequivocally, that should the necessity arise he could trust her with his life.
Eric did not expect such a necessity to ever arise. He was capable of taking care of himself. And yet the rock-solid belief he now held that Tina would be there if he should need her assistance, regardless of the possible danger, was both comforting and exciting, for one thrilling reason.
Tina loved him.
Though she had not once mentioned the word love to him, Eric was as certain that Tina loved him as he was that the sun would continue to rise in the east.
He knew. How could he not know? Eric mused, sketching an image of Tina inside his mind, while keeping a sharp-eyed watch on the quiet street outside.
Tina had betrayed herself, her love, to him in a hundred ways, some barely noticeable, others so obvious they were soul-shattering...shattering his soul.
Tina had given the gift of herself, all of herself, to him in sweet and hot surrender. Eric treasured her gift, and her, and had offered the gift of himself in return.
Tina was his; he was hers. Her softness buffered his hardness. Her gentleness tempered his cynicism. The radiance in her lightened the darkness in him.
And the hardness, cynicism and darkness had been there, a living part of him, for a long time.
Eric shuddered, recalling the bitter hatred that had seared his mind, coloring his perception, on the day the minister intoned the service of burial over his father’s casket.
He had lived for years with the bitterness and hatred eating away at him like an acid toxin.
Tina’s very softness, her loving and laughter were Eric’s antidote, the remedy that made him feel whole again. And, from his new perspective, he saw himself as the protector of her softness, the rock-solid strength between Tina and the harmful, seamy side of the world.
They were made for each other.
Someday soon, hopefully very soon, Eric would feel free to speak the four words he would not allow himself to say aloud until this surveillance was over, and she knew exactly who he was, what he was. Until then, he held them close, in his mind, in his heart, keeping them pure, for her alone.
I love you, Tina.
Some cop he was. The derisive thought brought a whimsical smile to Eric’s compressed lips. He had spent more time loving Tina this week than watching the neighbors for continuing illegal developments.
Oh, well, it was his own time that he was squandering, he reminded himself.
Thing was, Eric didn’t consider the time squandered. He regarded it as time well spent on every hope and dream he had once held for the future.
There would undoubtedly be many more undercover stakeouts down the road for him, Eric knew. But there was only one Tina.
She came first. As Maddy had always been to Eric’s father, Tina was his top priority.
Love sure did strange things to folks.
The thought amused Eric, and he was still grinning some time later when the phone rang.
Since Eric had only given the number to two other people besides Cameron, the caller had to be either his boss or his love. Anticipation caused a tingle in the fingers that reached for the receiver.
“Eric?” The upbeat sound of Tina’s voice did a tap dance on his nervous system.
“You were expecting Kevin Costner?” Eric asked in a teasing drawl.
“What would I want with him, when I can have you?” Tina asked in a solemn, serious tone that stole his breath, liquefied his insides and made mush of his brain.
“Eric?” she prodded uncertainly when he didn’t respond for a couple of long seconds. “Did I say the wrong thing?”
“No, love,” he assured her, pulling his wits together. “You said exactly the right thing.”
“I meant it.”
“I know.” Eric grabbed for a steadying breath. “The knowing’s driving me nuts.”
“What do you mean?” Tina sounded confused, and a little worried. “I mean, why is it driving you nuts?”
“Because you’re there, and I’m here,” Eric said. “I’m missing you like hell.”
“I’m missing you, too.” Tina’s voice was throaty, soft, and misty sounding.
It went to Eric’s head, and his heart, and other vulnerable parts of his anatomy. Telling himself to lighten up before he started babbling his feelings to her like a love-struck teenager, he cleared his throat and said the first crazy thing that jumped into his head.
“You wanna have phone sex?”
Tina’s laughter sang along the wire to him, tickling his ear, and his fancy. “Heavens, no!” she exclaimed. “Maybe I’m just old-fashioned, but I prefer the genuine article.”
“Yeah, so do I,” he purred. “When?”
“You’re insatiable,” she accused, still laughing.
“Yeah,” he growled. “When?”
“Later tonight,” she promised, in a thrill-inducing whisper. “But first...” She hesitated; he jumped in.
“First?”
“I was wondering if you felt like going out for a while this evening.”
Things clicked in Eric’s mind, bits of information came together. It was Friday, the night Tina usually spent in the company of her friends.
“The tavern?” he asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes,” Tina answered, as expected. “Ted called me a little while ago to ask if I nee
ded a lift tonight.” She gave a half laugh. “To tell the truth, until he called, I’d completely forgotten about meeting the gang tonight.”
Her admission pleased Eric very much. Enough to make him feel willing to share a portion of their time together with her friends.
“Okay. What time?”
There was a brief but telling silence. Eric smiled with tender understanding. Tina had expected him to balk at her suggestion of an outing.
“You want to go?” Tina’s voice conveyed her surprise.
Eric smiled. “Sure. Why not?”
“Well, I thought that—” Tina paused, as if gathering her thoughts “—I thought you might prefer to stay in.”
“A change of scenery couldn’t hurt,” Eric said in a slow drawl. “We haven’t been out of the house together since Monday evening.” He chuckled softly. “Hell, we’ve hardly been out of the bedroom since Monday evening.”
“I wasn’t bored.” Tina’s voice was so low he could barely hear it, and yet the message came through loud and clear. “Were you?”
“You know better than that.” Eric’s voice was also low, velvety with intimacy. “I loved every minute of it.” Then he turned the tables on her. “Didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Tina whispered. “That’s why I thought...” Her voice faded away.
“You thought correctly,” Eric said, filling in the void. “But we must eat, too, keep up our strength.” He paused for a reaction from her. When there was none, he continued. “I was assuming we were going to have dinner at the tavern.”
“We were.”
“Okay, then, we’ll go,” he said. “We can always come home early, you know.”
“Yes, I do know,” she agreed, in a purring tone that set his imagination on fire. “Suppose I swing by and pick you up after work? Say about six-thirty?”
“Or I could take the bike and meet you there,” he suggested, to save her the run out of her way.
“But then we couldn’t go home together,” she pointed out in a senses-stirring purr.
“True,” Eric said, not only taking her point, but running with it. “I’ll be ready and waiting.”
Agreeing to Tina’s suggestion was the easy part for Eric. Getting through the rest of the afternoon was the hard part. Not a damn thing was happening in or around the house across the street. But that no longer bothered or surprised him.
Eric’s familiar and trusted gut feeling had come back into play, and he had arrived at the conclusion that nothing was going to happen—not before the weekend. Instinct, or intuition, or something, had convinced him that whatever was going down over there was going down on Sundays.
Still, Eric watched, bored but diligent, until it was time to get himself ready for Tina.
* * *
All in all, the evening turned out to be rather enjoyable for Eric. Disarmed, so to speak, by the information his brother had provided about the members of the group, Eric felt more relaxed in their company, less constrained in joining in with the banter and harmless fun.
And he did have fun, more than he had allowed himself to indulge in for some length of time. He laughed at their jokes, even the lame ones, and even loosened up enough to offer a few dry witticisms of his own.
Yet, true to form, even as he relaxed and enjoyed, Eric dissected the reasons he had lowered his guard. First and foremost of these, of course, was the very fact of Cameron’s verbal report that from all he could gather, every member of the group was clean, in the legal sense.
The second reason was the confirmation of Eric’s initial perception of the members of the bunch being average, normal, genuinely nice people.
The third reason, and by far the most important to Eric, was the reflection on Tina’s character by her very association with them. A reflection of character that coincided with his own independently drawn conclusions.
Birds of a feather, and all that.
So the evening proved a double success. Eric enjoyed himself, and Tina was happy. He was content to bask in the overflow of her happiness. She displayed it in the most exciting ways—after they had returned to her house, and to her bedroom.
* * *
It began snowing in fits and starts of flurries early Sunday morning. By midday the fitful snowfall was dusting lawns, shrubs and tree branches, but was still melting on the sidewalks and streets.
“Isn’t it pretty?” Tina said in delight. “I have always loved the first snowfall of the season.”
“It won’t last,” Eric predicted, softening his observation with a smile. “Too early.”
“I suppose,” she murmured. “Thanksgiving is still over a week and a half away.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, turning his gaze from the window to the paper he held in his hand. “Besides, the bad-driving weather will come soon.”
Tina shuddered. “That’s the minus side of snow, driving in it. I get nervous just— Oh, hell!” she muttered.
Eric raised his glance from the sports page to frown at her. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s my ex-husband.” She grimaced and indicated the street with a sharp movement of her head. “I hope he’s not thinking of stopping in here—” Tina broke off on a groan, then said in disgust, “Oh, nuts, here he comes.”
“So I see.” Eric was already on his feet, the paper still clutched in one hand. His brain shifted into high gear as his eyes narrowed on the confident-looking man just then stepping onto the front stoop, beneath the protective overhang.
Well, surprise, surprise, Eric thought wryly. It must be Sunday...day of deliverance.
The doorbell rang.
Tina groaned again.
“Are you afraid of him?” Eric sliced a hard look at her. “Because if you are, there’s no reason for you to be, not as long as I’m here.”
“I’m not.” Tina shook her head and stood up as the bell rang once more. “I’m tired of telling him I’m not interested—not in him, or his friends.” She jerked her head, indicating the house across the street. “I want him to leave me alone.”
“Would you like me to convey that message to him from you?” Eric asked in a soft, deadly-sounding voice.
Tina looked startled for an instant. Then she laughed, a little shakily. “Good heavens, Eric, lighten up. You look positively lethal.” She started for the door, tossing over her shoulder, “You don’t want me to be afraid of you, do you?” she said teasingly, turning away to open the door.
Good advice, that, so back off, Wolfe, Eric told himself. It was going to be hard enough telling her about himself when the time came. He certainly didn’t want her afraid of him, not now, not ever.
Taut but controlled, Eric listened to the exchange between Tina and Glen Reber filtering to him from the doorway.
“No, Glen,” she was saying adamantly. “I am not going to invite you in.”
“But why not?” he persisted angrily. “It’s snowing and it’s cold out here.”
“Go visit your friends across the street,” she said with obvious impatience. “Their house is as warm as mine.”
“This used to be my house, too.”
“Used to be is as dead as the bad relationship we once shared,” Tina retorted. “I told you before that I don’t want you coming around anymore, Glen. I meant it. If you do, I won’t answer the door.”
“You always were a cold bitch,” he snarled.
He’d deck the bastard.
Fury impelled Eric into motion. He was halfway to the door when Tina shut it in Glen’s face. Fortunately for Eric, she stood staring at the solid panels for a few moments, long enough for him to return to his position near the window and conceal his dangerous intent behind an expressionless mask of calm.
You’ll get yours, creep. Someday. Soon. And the pleasure will be all mine.
Through eyes glittering with the promise of retribution, Eric watched Glen storm away from the door, down the glistening walk, and then to the house across the street.
“He’s gone.”
“I know.
” Consciously relaxing his battle-tightened muscles, Eric consigned Glen Reber to a day of reckoning and turned from the window to smile at her. “If he bothers you again, let me know,” he said, careful to keep his voice cool and steady, his smile easy.
“I don’t think he will.” She sighed tiredly. “At least I hope this time I got through to him.”
“And if you didn’t, I’ll take care of it,” he assured her, feeling the weight of her sigh.
“No!” Tina said sharply, her face paling. “I don’t want you involved with him.”
Eric frowned, feeling an instant’s doubt about her own involvement with Reber. Then he immediately dismissed it. He wasn’t wrong, but something was.
“Why?” he demanded.
“Because I don’t want you hurt!” Tina exclaimed.
Eric smiled.
“Oh, men and their damn macho image!” Tina glared at him. “Eric, you don’t understand.”
“So enlighten me.”
“Glen is dangerous.” Her eyes lost their sparkle, growing dark and bleak. “I...I learned after the divorce that Glen had been arrested, several times. Once for nearly killing a man with a knife.” Beginning to tremble, she sank onto the edge of the sofa. “I couldn’t bear it if you—” Her voice broke, and she stared at him in abject fear.
Eric crossed to her in three long strides. Grasping her shoulders, he drew her up and into his arms. “Tina, don’t look like that,” he murmured, soothing her with a gentle stroke of his hand down her back. “Honey...honey, nothing’s going to happen to me.” He grinned. “I’m tough.”
“But, Glen’s—” She broke off once more, shuddering.
“A two-bit hood,” Eric said with casual unconcern. Then he frowned. “And I’m damned if I can figure out how a woman like you ever got tangled up with a lowlife like him.”
“I was a fool.” Tina’s pale cheeks flared pink. “A young, naive fool.” She lowered her eyes in embarrassment. “And Glen can put on quite a performance. He can turn on the charm until it practically oozes out of his pores. He set a romantic scene, and cast himself as Prince Charming. I bought the play from opening night. He swept me off my feet, and kept my head spinning right up to the altar.” She expelled a short, harsh laugh. “I learned the meaning of duplicity on my wedding night.”