Impulsive (11 page)

“You picked at a sore spot.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” When Cara threw him a bug-eyed warning glance, he realized he had raised his voice to the waking-baby-danger level. “Sorry.”

She held up a hand and walked toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. She must have been satisfied with whatever she heard or didn't hear because she returned to him. By that time, he had stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

She looked him up and down. “Smooth move.”

“It didn't look like I was going to get an invitation. You were saying?”

“Admittedly it's been a while but last I heard that's what dating is all about—getting to know each other. Discovering the little things.” Her hands went to her hips. “That is how you treat a woman, Eric. You let her know she matters to you.”

Message received
. “I believe I've been scolded.”

The hard lines around her mouth eased. “If you recognize that, maybe there's hope for you after all.”

“Any idea where Katie is so I can go grovel to her?”

“It's tempting to make you suffer.”

“I have been.” Probably not enough to satisfy the Long women, but he was ready to be done.

Cara turned around, walked into the kitchen, and grabbed her phone. After a few keystrokes and seconds that stretched for what felt like an eternity, she had a text response. But she didn't give it up easy. “Katie is going to be furious with both of us.”

Eric knew he would get the brunt of Katie's anger. “I want to make this right.”

Cara looked skeptical. “Hunting her down might not be the way.”

It had worked for him before. He had to hope it would a second time. “I never meant to make her feel bad.”

“Either you're really good at lying or I'm losing my edge, because I believe you.” Cara turned the phone around so he could read the screen. “It's a diner over on the Honoapiilani Highway.”

He gave her forearm a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.”

“Good luck. I think you'll need it.”

He knew he would.

K
atie had called the meeting with Jimmy. The idea of turning on Eric appealed to her in a castrate-him-with-her-bare-hands sort of way, but she refrained. Simply, she wanted out. Someone else could track Eric.

After this meeting she was headed for the beach. Sitting there while waves crashed on the cool sand in front of her sounded like the perfect end to this rotten day. Maybe the sting of salt against her cheeks would wipe out the thoughts that kept spinning in her head.

She had to come clean with Eric and warn him that someone close to him had a secret agenda. Then she had to figure out why he mattered to her so much.

In a short amount of time, he'd wormed his way into every cell and she couldn't shake him out. It wasn't like he was her first. She'd been with other guys and even thought she'd found love once before.

But this was different. This wasn't about promises or how he could deliver her from a life she didn't want. It was about the stupid explosion of joy that went off in her stomach every time she saw him.

At nineteen she'd felt that rush of excitement at being the main focus of a man's interest. Finding out Tod was hiding a wife and kid on another island while he spewed pretty lies about loving her had bruised her more than if he had kicked her until she doubled over. She remembered lying in bed and crying her eyes out over a guy who thought so little of her.

She had refused to get sucked in like that again. Then she met Eric. He hadn't delivered a punishing blow like the one Tod had, but he almost didn't have to. All the little things stacked up with Eric. Every word and touch went deeper. Thinking about him and how even the tiniest mistake could set her off made her feel vulnerable. She hated that.

Jimmy slid into the booth across from her and tapped his hands against the table as if he was playing a set of drums. “What's up, pretty girl?”

She wasn't in the mood for chitchat or fake flattery…or Jimmy. “You need to find someone else.”

“For?”

“Better yet, you need to stop.”

He slipped the menu out of the holder at the side of the table and turned it over in his hands. “They serve breakfast all day?”

“You could at least pretend to listen to me.”

“I don't know what we're talking about here.”

She put her hand over the plastic and flattened it against the table. “Eric Kimura.”

“You want to skip right to work?”

They didn't have anything else. Never would. “This isn't a date.”

Jimmy was the guy you grabbed for a movie. Any woman who picked up with him for something deeper would be disappointed because the guy didn't do deep. Right now she didn't even like him much because she associated him with the mess with Eric.

“That's a shame,” Jimmy said.

“And our work is done.”

“Not even close.”

Time to move Eric out of target range. The only way to do that was to tell the truth, or at least a piece of it.

“I overheard a conversation between Eric and Deana, and it was benign.” She almost laughed when Jimmy frowned. “There was nothing there.”

“So they were together. Just as our client suspected. Good work.” Jimmy flipped his phone open and started texting.

She tried to make out the number but couldn't. She settled for knocking her fist against the table to distract him. “You're not listening to me.”

“You followed our boy and got the goods. Hey, I'm happy with what you've accomplished.”

“What I heard proves our client has nothing to worry about.” She strained, lifting up off her seat so she could get close enough to grab the cell.

“Your job isn't to make a call on how important the conversation is. You're there to follow, gather information, and report back on it.” Jimmy shifted position, hiding the screen. “My client can decide what he wants to do with the shit we provide. That's why he's paying us.”

“I'm telling you this is over.”

“You're not looking at the big picture.” He spun the glass syrup container around, letting it thud against the table and giving her a tremendous headache.

“Which is?”

“Money. This client has it and is willing to spend it.”

The great big ball of danger was rolling right at Eric, and she didn't know how to stop it. “There is nothing left to investigate.”

“Not true.” Jimmy dumped his phone on the seat next to him and grabbed an envelope out of his shirt pocket. “I need you to check on this.”

She stared at the paper. “Is this about Eric?”

“Do you have another job?”

“I work for a caterer.”

“That's a family obligation and you'll get sick of the boring dishwashing stuff soon enough. I know you.” He hitched his chin in the direction of the envelope. “Open it.”

Even as her brain screamed not to, she obeyed. She saw another calendar page. “So?”

“Eric is stepping out of the office Tuesday. There's no explanation on the line except for the ‘personal' note.”

She hated that she wanted to know where Eric planned to go. “The man is allowed to take an afternoon off.”

“For what is the question.” Jimmy started the drumming again.

She had to admit, the note confused her. Eric broke away for a few hours here and there to see her, but then he headed back to the office. At least that's what he said. But an entire afternoon? That seemed out of character.

“Who the hell is this?” It was as if they'd conjured him up. Eric Kimura, with his gray business suit and expensive watch, walked into the diner and stood right behind Jimmy.

The place served some of the best greasy burgers on the island, smoky with a side of rice, but Katie guessed he wasn't there for dinner. This wasn't a coincidence.

“What are you doing here?” She crumpled the page in her hand, hoping he couldn't see the writing.

The move didn't slip by Eric. He stared at her fist for a good ten seconds before looking up again. “I came to find you.”

“You two know each other?” Jimmy sounded positively gleeful at the thought.

“Yeah, you could say that. So I'll ask again.” Eric rested his palm on the table right next to the empty envelope and leaned in front of Jimmy. “Who the hell are you?”

For a guy who sat behind a desk all day, Eric sure could sound intimidating. Last thing she needed was the good prosecutor tackling Jimmy and rolling across the dirty floor. No question that would make the evening news. No one would be talking about Deana then.

“Eric—” She stopped when she saw the effect of Eric's deadly calm voice on Jimmy.

Some of the wind rushed out of the guy. Didn't look so happy-go-lucky now. His smile went from smug to faltering. “I'm an old friend.”

Eric nodded. “What kind of friend?”

The show of masculine jealousy pleased Katie more than she wanted to admit, but it scared her, too. Her insides rocked back and forth between happy to see him and terrified Jimmy would say the wrong thing and send Eric into an angry tailspin. And Jimmy had a lot of information he could spill.

“Knock it off.” She tugged on Eric's sleeve as she issued the warning.

Instead of backing down, he slipped in next to her and gave Jimmy a stare down that promised pain. “Well?”

“He's an old friend and never anything more.”

“Good.” Eric kept his gaze focused on the younger man. “You have a name?”

“Jimmy Blau.” He nodded his greeting.

Eric ignored it. “Eric Kimura.”

“I've seen you on the news.”

“I get that a lot.”

Katie tucked the wad of paper under her thigh, careful not to make any crinkling noises. She rested her other hand on Eric's arm and felt the jolt of tension running through him. “I've known Jimmy for years.”

For the first time, Eric spared her a glance. It was quick, but it happened. “And you decided you had to see him today.”

His accusing tone sent her temper spiking. She'd come here to end the madness, not to find more. The chest puffing and threatening could stop now. She got the point. He was ticked off at seeing her with another man.

Good. Now he knew what that sort of betrayal felt like.

“I'm not sure what you're implying, but I don't appreciate it,” she said.

When Jimmy leaned back, taking it all in, Eric stopped whatever he was going to say to her and looked at Jimmy instead. “I think you're done here.”

That fast, Jimmy's shoulders slumped as his hands fell to the booth beside him. “You may be right.”

“Happy we understand each other.”

Jimmy treated her to one last smile before he slid to his feet. “We'll talk later, Katie.”

“Wouldn't count on that,” Eric mumbled under his breath as he picked up the menu.

Disbelief and frustration turned to anger. She tried to get out a sentence but the words backed up in her mouth and she sputtered. After a deep breath, she tried again. “What was with that display of testosterone gone wild?”

“We fight and you run to an old boyfriend?” The harsh edge to Eric's voice remained but he looked down the menu nice and calm, like nothing was wrong.

“That's your style, not mine.”

He peeked at her. “We've been through this. I didn't invite Deana to my house.”

“Yet, there she was.”

The menu dropped with a whack as he slid his body around to face her. “She came there to talk with me about some issues in my campaign.”

“The part about how the two of you aren't sneaking around? Here's a hint: that would be more believable if you didn't actually sneak around.”

Eric started to say something, then stopped. When his fists unclenched he spoke again. “I'm not taking the bait. We're talking about you.”

That made one of them. “I'm not.”

“You can be friends with whomever you want—”

“Gee, thanks for the permission.

“—just don't run to some guy as a way to punish me. And stop pretending I'm trying to control you.”

“That's what it sounds like.”

“This—” he motioned his hand between them. “Whatever it is, it's exclusive. We already established that.”

Her head was on the verge of exploding. “Let me out.” Katie pushed against his shoulder but he didn't budge. “Move.”

“No.”

“It wouldn't be good for your campaign for me to start screaming.” She stuffed the ball of paper into the back of her shorts while she talked.

“Try it and we'll see.”

She slumped back into her seat. “Just admit there's a part of you that wants her back. It's okay. You need to put it out there so you can deal with it.”

He didn't pretend confusion. Didn't get angry. No, he snaked his arm across the top of the booth and touched Katie's hair. “Not anymore.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because I've never lied to you.”

That simple declaration shot right to her toes, burning a path through all the fear lurking inside her. He wasn't crowing about how perfect he was. He was telling her something much more basic and important.

His reaction took the sting out of her temper. “I had a brother-in-law who insisted the same thing.”

“You're comparing me to a man who walked out on his wife and little girl?” His eyes narrowed. “Really?”

“No.” She rubbed her hand across her forehead. It was either that or get a good look at the disappointment on his face. “Sorry.”

Eric's hand moved to her neck. “Hang out with whatever friend you want, but don't bait me because you're pissed off.”

“I wasn't trying to make you jealous.”

“You did.”

Air hiccupped in her lungs. “I didn't know I could.”

“I'm with you. Only you.”

The words took her right back to that place where seeing him wiped all the bad away. “Are you?”

“I'm not hiding.” He held out his arms. Didn't bother lowering his voice either. “I'm sitting right here, in a very public place, trying to convince you I'm not a total jackass.”

She glanced around and saw more than one set of eyes staring back. Talk about bold.

“I never said
total
.” She rolled her eyes in exaggeration as she spoke.

The corner of his mouth turned up as he leaned in closer. “I gave you the key because I wanted to see you. Sex in a catering kitchen is hot, but I thought we could try a movie on the couch and a night in a bed.”

He still didn't know the story behind their first meeting, and she still wasn't sure how to tell him. Amazing how rough the truth sounded in her head. “I'm the wrong girl for you. You know that, right?”

“Let me decide what's right for me and what isn't.”

She owed him the chance to run while she could still let him go. “You don't know about the things I've done. I'm not the kind of woman who spends her days working for charity. Not that I wouldn't try at some point, but it's not something that ever dawned on me.”

“I think part of the problem here is that you jump to conclusions. You see the way people's lives look on the outside and decide you know the inside.”

“What are you talking about?”

He slid closer. “We all have things in our past that we'd prefer to forget.”

“Even you?”

“Even me.”

He had no idea. He grew up in a solid family, in a solid community, and now led a solid life. There was nothing wishy-washy or unlikable about him. No secrets or skeletons.

“What, did you get a B on a test once?” she joked.

“I used to steal cars.”

He could have told her he liked to drown tourists in his spare time and she would have been less surprised. “What?”

“Not to resell them. To drag race them.” He took a long sip of her water. “I was twelve at the time.”

“You are making that up.”