Bonds Of The Heart (8 page)

              Blake followed Erika into the dining room. The room, like the living room, was small.
Cozy.
The table, only big enough for four people, was directly in the center of the room. In the short time Blake had been there, Erika’s mother had managed to set a full place setting around the dining room table for each of them.

              “Blake, you sit here next to Erika.” Brianne patted a chair.

              Placing his glass on the table, Blake held out the chair for Erika. She hesitated a moment until her manners kicked in. Blake gently guided her chair in. He did the same for her mother after she placed the dish on the table in front of them before taking his own seat.
So he has manners,
Erika thought.

              “So Blake,” Brianne began, trying to inject some semblance of noise into the quiet room, “I hear your dad is doing better.”

              “Yes, ma’am.” Brianne handed him a large helping of the lasagna.
Wow, this IS cheesy.

              “When does he come home?” She handed Erika a smaller portion.

              “As soon as the doctors let him. He has a way to go yet.”

              Erika didn’t speak. It was never her place to butt into other people’s business. Erika waited for a clue since she knew her mother would elaborate. Surprisingly, she wasn’t given one this time. Instead she watched as her mother plated her own food and began to nibble. Picking up her fork, Erika dug in as well. Blake followed suit.

              “I’ll keep him in my prayers,” Brianne said.

              “Thank you.”

              “You’re awfully quiet, Erika.” Brianne frowned at her daughter, who was picking at her food and taking small bites.

              “I have a lot on my mind.”
Work, Daddy, Blake
’
s touch…

              “You always have a lot on your mind, dear. You need to get out more. Take a break.”

              “Mom, please.” Erika continued to pick at her half eaten dinner, no longer hungry.

              “Blake, are you working tomorrow?”

              “No ma’am.” Actually he had planned to take his brother’s truck out. The folded flag in the living room had stirred his pain for his brother.

              “It’s supposed to be beautiful out.” Brianne continued.

              Blake nodded and Erika hoped that was the end of the conversation.

              “You two should go out and enjoy the weather,” Brianne said. “Have a picnic. I’ll help you pack something. You come by tomorrow around noon, Blake. I’ll have it ready.”

              Erika stared at the mangled mess of her dinner. She definitely wasn’t hungry any more. So what if she was a little pouty? She didn’t want to spend any more time with Blake than she had to. Now her mom was insisting that he take her out for a picnic? Maybe he will refuse and she’ll be let off the hook. Maybe someone’s car would be so terrible it needed both him and Ben to fix it. She tried to sneak a glance his way, but failed and met his eyes. He had managed to clean his plate and was shifting his glass in a circle on the table—staring at her. Why was he staring?

              Blake wasn’t sure he wanted to be pushed into another date, though this was hardly a date with Erika’s mother there. However amusing the thought was, he wasn’t planning on anything more than just dinner with Erika—and the taste of her. Yet as the idea from her mother planted itself in his head, it appealed to him in a way he couldn’t yet understand. His lips curved. He saw that Erika wasn’t too thrilled with the idea either. He had watched her pick at her food before turning to him. His eyes locked with hers. He watched as they rounded when he leaned closer and reached out to touch the ends of her hair. His hand brushed the back of her neck and he felt her tremble.

              “A picnic.” His voice was low, deep, and sexy.

              Erika suddenly found it hard to swallow or breathe.
Did mom turn off the air conditioning?
“You don’t need to appease my mother. There’s no need for a picnic.” She managed to get the words out, even if they were a little husky and breathy.

              Because Erika didn’t want it, Blake wanted it more. “I’ll be here at noon.”

              “I don’t—”

              The kiss was gentle, more than she had expected it to be, more than she wanted it to be. His lips were soft and firm all at once. They moved against hers with familiarity. She couldn’t remember what they were talking about. His short stubble was surprisingly soft against her skin. She wanted to reach out and touch it, but couldn’t get her body to move. When she could, she reached up and cupped his face in her hand. She wanted to get lost in the feeling, wrap her arms around his neck. Desire was quick to flood her body and liquid heat ran to all points south.

              The smell of vanilla was strong and subtle on her. Her hair was soft in his fingers. When he pressed his lips to hers, they were just as soft. He didn’t know what possessed him to taste her now. He didn’t care. He teased her lips with his tongue and her mouth parted for him with a soft, rewarding moan. She invited him in, so he dipped his tongue between her lips pleasantly tormenting her. Her tongue danced with his, and something stirred inside him. He could feel the blood pumping through him and he knew he’d have to adjust himself before standing up. He silently prayed that wouldn’t be for a while. Fearing his control would slip, he pulled away but kept his eyes locked on Erika’s.

              “Where is your Jeep now, Erika?” Her mother’s voice chimed as she headed back toward the dining room.

              Blake swore silently to himself.

              Blinking, Erika had to try to find her balance just to answer the question. “Main Street,” were the only words she could strangle out. She blinked a few more times as she watched Blake sit casually back in his chair as if that life altering kiss hadn’t just happened. As if her world hadn’t just been turned upside down.

              Sweeping into the room, Brianne noticed the change in atmosphere around Blake and her daughter. Blake sat casually in his chair, but his back was noticeably stiff as a board. Her daughter, a blank look on her face as the only giveaway, moved slowly and too carefully as she gathered her dishes and rose from her seat with a knowing smile.

              “The Jeep will be safe there. I’m afraid I’m going to turn in early. I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. Erika.” Brianne reached a hand out to her daughter. “There’s coffee if Blake would like some. You’re welcome to stay, no need to leave on my account.” She smiled at Blake, who stood from his seat.

              “I actually need to get back.” Blake picked up his plates but was stopped by Brianne’s hand.

              “Leave those.” Turning to her daughter, she pretended to sound sleepy. She would just read in her room the rest of the night and hope her daughter wasn’t too far gone to see what was right in front of her. “I have to drive to Quantico tomorrow morning early. Sleep in. You could use it.” And with a gentle touch to Erika’s arm, she left her daughter and Blake alone.

              “I actually need to get going,” Blake stated as he rose from his seat and headed toward the door.

              Confused as to why she would kiss and run, Erika felt her skin burn. And it wasn’t from the heat between them just a moment ago. Without a word, Blake walked out. She could hear the start of his truck engine outside and was tempted to open the door and throw a shoe at him. Instead, she leapt up and turned off all the lights hoping it would make him think she wasn’t affected at all by his kiss. Ironically, as she moved through the house all she could think of was his lips on hers.

Nine

***

Erika only got a few hours of sleep between tossing and turning in her bed. She had been up most of the night working on the manuscript that was due next week. No. She wasn’t working, she was pacing. She couldn’t focus on anything when her thoughts would drift to the kiss she shared with Blake. She barely got through the first chapter without thinking about it, about him. She didn’t want to think about him. She didn’t want to think about the kiss.

             
Ah hell
, it was all she could think about.

              When his mouth had touched hers, she refused to admit she enjoyed it. She even tried to deny that she didn’t want to enjoy it again. That she could force herself to go without touching the stubble on his chin even though she had dreamt of it. Erika reminded herself that Blake Hamilton was arrogant, rude, impersonal, and overconfident. She didn’t want to admit he was also sexy, attractive, and undeniably irresistible.

              She could have pulled away from the kiss, she told herself.

              She could have stopped it before it began…

              She had lied to herself. Once their lips met, there was no pulling away or stopping. There was the need to go deeper and further—together. She had wanted to; her body craved it—craved him. He'd stirred feelings deep inside her that she hadn’t felt before. Feelings she’d never felt them with any guy.

              Shaking her head to try and erase the thoughts from her head, she inspected herself in the mirror.

              A picnic. Her mother was right, it was a beautiful day. The weather had warmed up enough from the passing storms a few days ago that she didn’t need a jacket or sweatshirt. Erika chose the pale aqua sundress she brought from California. It was that or her battered shorts that had dirt on them from helping her mother garden. She wasn’t ready to wear the yellow dress she had planned on wearing for her daddy’s return.

              “Mom,” she breathed. She fingered her hair into soft, loose curls. Her mother had set her up.

She would appease her mother, but Erika had no intention of this being a date or going any further than today. Brushing on the neutral shadow, some liner, and adding mascara, she intended to enjoy the nice weather. She would make sandwiches. Bring juice. Make a picnic. For herself. Blake would just be along for the ride. It wasn’t a date, she repeated to herself as she headed downstairs to the kitchen to start those sandwiches.

***

              Pulling up to the house, Blake drank the last of his coffee. He didn’t sleep well at all last night. He thought the one taste would be enough. He thought he’d be able to satisfy his curiosity and then push any thoughts of Erika out of his mind. He sat for what seemed like hours in his truck, in his driveway, thinking about that kiss last night.

              Damn, was he ever wrong.

              The few hours Blake had slept, he had dreamt of Erika. He had gone out in the middle of the night to tow her Jeep back to the garage. When he returned, he couldn’t get back to sleep. He roamed his house thinking of Erika. He could still feel the softness of her hair in his hands, the taste of her on his lips, how she trembled at his touch. He wanted to taste her again.

              He had argued with himself as he paced his living room the night before. Erika Gibbons was stuck up, stubborn, rude, and couldn’t appreciate a helping hand. She was also delicate, soft, vulnerable, and, he had to admit, damn attractive. Jared had married a woman with similar features and personality, though his brother and he had never been drawn to the same type of women. Jared liked the feisty, stubborn type. Blake appreciated the sophisticated and cultured.

              During his time in D.C., he had dated a handful of women who liked the opera, the theatre, and the occasional elegant night out at one of Washington’s prestigious restaurants. The women he had dated were…predictable. He had known exactly how to court them and what he felt about them.

              So why was he drawn to Erika Gibbons, who was none of those things? She wasn’t afraid to get dirty fixing her own Jeep. She didn’t care if her jeans were full of mud when she was out in public. She didn’t dress to impress. In fact, she almost purposefully dressed comfortably down. She wasn’t predictable at all.

              He forced himself to remember this wasn’t a date. He’d have the picnic with her and find a way to end it so that he could do what he had planned. He’d find a way to have Ben be there when she picked up her Jeep. He’d forget his ache to taste her again, to touch her.

              Exiting the truck, he didn’t notice Erika waiting on the porch, basket in hand. When his gaze finally swept up, his step faltered and his breath caught in his throat. His world stopped.

              If you asked him if he left his truck running or turned it off, if he left the door open or if he closed it, he wouldn’t remember. If you asked him if it was sunny or cloudy, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. If you asked him if the birds were singing or if a car had passed by on the road behind him, he couldn’t remember that either.

              All he could see was Erika.

              The blue dress fell just above her knees exposed her long, slender legs that seemed to rival the Sears Tower. It hugged the curves of her hips and left her shoulders bare, except for two small straps. A silver chain around her neck plunged into her chest.
Lucky chain.
Her hair bounced around her shoulders and there were hints of copper in the deep brown locks. The wind had drifted her sweet vanilla scent to his nose. Everything he'd just told himself was gone. He was lost to her.