Romance Me (Boxed Set) (14 page)

“That would be great.” Lisa cleared the table, wondering if Eric would be there. “If I said something wrong to Eric, please extend my apologies.”

Judy smiled. “Don’t worry about it, dear. He’ll be there tonight. You can talk to him then. But remember, we all have our secrets. Eric is no different.”

Chapter Seven

Eric was buried in paperwork when he heard two light taps on his office door. “Yes?” he asked, not bothering to look up.

The door squeaked and Connie stuck her curly brunette head through the opening, her perfectly manicured fingers grasping the edge of the door. “Your mom’s here to see you,” she said.

He’d been waiting all day to give her a piece of his mind. But lucky for her, it had been a long one, with enough time to cool off. Having already decided to be blunt and honest, with none of his mother’s games, he leaned back in his chair. “Show her in and then you can call it an early evening. I know you’d like to go to the social tonight.”

“Won’t you be there?” Connie quirked an eyebrow. “There’ll be a lot of broken hearts if you don’t show.”

“I’m not really in the mood for a party, but feel free to have a drink of the infamous Sweetwater punch for me.”

She smiled, something of a rarity around the office. “Well, I hope you change your mind. Good evening.”

“Good night, Connie.”

“Oh, he’ll be going.” His mother’s voice sparked his resentment for her meddling, but he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. He’d treat this like he did his client meetings, particularly when their families were present, with logic and a clear mind.

“There you are.” His mother stepped into his office, but remained in the doorway. “You said you wanted to see me, so here I am.”

“Yes, I did.” He held out a hand to direct her to the seat in front of him.

“Really?” She arched a brow at him. His mother took the chair and yanked it around the desk so they were sitting side by side. His attorney façade chipped a little at his mother’s concerned eyes. “What’s going on, son?” she asked, leaning forward to offer him a hand in comfort, but he leaned back and narrowed his eyes.

“I want to be direct and to the point.”

“I’d expect no less,” his mother replied.

He cleared his throat and readied for a good Gaylord argument. “You had no right to tell Lisa about Mary Lynn.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

Eric paused, narrowing his eyes at her. “I don’t understand. Is that your apology?”

“No. I have nothing to apologize for. Lisa told me what happened, and I had nothing to do with it. Now I have one question for you.”

“What?”

His mother crossed her arms over her chest. “Have you ever considered that you have a laugh that makes more than just one girl’s heart melt? Maybe that’s why two different women told you basically the same thing. Or do you just like to accuse your mother of being the town busy body, with nothing better to do but gossip about her only son?”

He shrank back in his chair, feeling like that twelve-year-old boy who got caught with his mom’s Victoria Secret catalog. “No.”

“Well, maybe you should.” His mother remained straight, with her don’t-cross-me-son pinched brow.

“Fine, let’s say you didn’t tell her—”

“I didn’t.”

Eric sighed. “Then let’s focus on the fact that you brought Ms. Mortan here intentionally, so that I’d be interested in dating her.”

“Boy, aren’t you egocentric? How about we focus on the fact that I wanted something to occupy my time since your father passed? Perhaps giving up working all those years to make sure my son was healthy and happy and waiting until he was grown and gone before I pursued my dream is something I should apologize for. Do I think you two could be great together? Yes, I do, but you’re too stubborn to see it, so if you miss out on a good thing, then that’s on you, not me.”

“Then you do admit to wanting to set us up,” Eric retorted.

“Yes, but I didn’t think I needed to hit you over the head with one of those heavy law books on your shelf to get you to notice her, though.”

“I noticed her all right,” he grumbled.

“Then what’s the problem?” his mother asked.

He clutched the armrests. “You know what the problem is.”

“No. I don’t. You lost someone who you cared about deeply and now you’re wasting your life living in the past,” she scolded.

“That’s what I deserve.” Eric shot up from the chair and paced the room. “It’s my fault Mary Lynn and my own baby are dead.” Remorse clutched his heart and squeezed it until he thought it would explode inside his chest.

“No, it’s not your fault,” his mother whispered from behind him.

“Isn’t it? She came to me in New York, to tell me we were having a baby and what did I do? I sent her away. She died because I was too busy to spend any time with her.”

“That’s not what happened.” His mother’s steps sounded behind him, and her warm hand pressed to his back. “Son, you’ve tortured yourself for far too long, to the point you believe your own guilt. She tried to trap you into marrying her because she knew she was losing you. You fell in love as children, but then you grew up. Heck, you even wanted to break it off with her in high school, but each time you tried, her father would beat her, or she’d end up in some sort of crazy mess. Don’t get me wrong, Mary Lynn was a lovely girl and she wanted the best for you, as long as it included her. You didn’t send her away. She went off in hysterics, before she even told you about the baby, and there was nothing you could do to stop her.”

His hands shook at the memory of their last fight. He’d told her it wasn’t going to work out. That he loved her, but they were too different. “If I would have known about the baby…”

“I have no doubt you would have married her and been the best father and husband you could have been.”

“I don’t know.” Eric fought the lump in his throat. He’d only cried twice since the accident, when she died in his arms and when the doctor told him his child was dead.”

He heard a drawer slide open then a jingle sounded behind him. “I do. You were born to be a father. I know you’ll be an excellent one, but by holding onto something tragic, punishing yourself with undeserved guilt, you’re not giving love another chance.”

“I don’t know if I can,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion.

“I do.” She handed the rattle to him and he clutched it in his palm. “It’s time to let go of the guilt and embrace what’s in front of you before it’s gone. I know you like her.”

“I just met her,” Eric protested.

“Yes, but you look at her in a way you never did with Mary Lynn. Trust me. You need to let go before it’s too late and you lose out on something amazing.” She squeezed his hand briefly then turned and left the office without another word.

He stumbled back to his chair and held tight to the small silver object that meant so much. “I don’t know if I can,” he whispered.

Chapter Eight

The country music blared from inside the large barn-like structure ahead. Judy patted Lisa’s back. “Don’t worry, dear. I don’t think Eric will be anything but kind.”

“It’s not that.” Lisa shook her head and took a deep breath.

“What is it then? You look like you’ve been in another world since we left the shop.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’ve just been thinking about where my life has been and where it’s going, that’s all.”

“As long as that’s all.” Judy laughed. “It’s a party, darling. Your troubles will still be there when it’s over. Come on, let’s boogie.”

Lisa chuckled. “Boogie?”

“Crumping?” Judy offered instead with a smile.

Lisa laughed so hard she could barely climb the three steps to the open doors.

Eric snuck up, slid between them, and wrapped his arms around their shoulders. “What’s so funny?”

“Your mom wants to crump.”

“Great, I’m having flashbacks of my sixth grade dance with Janie Walker.” Eric shook his head.

“What?” Judy asked indignantly. “I was the star of that show.” She flung her hair back and lifted her chin like a diva, sending both Eric and Lisa into hysterics.

Entering the oversized building, Lisa realized it wasn’t a barn at all, but a huge community center dressed up like a barn.

The music stopped and Cathy Mitchell took the stage. “Welcome, everyone. As you know, this event is to raise money for those less fortunate kids, so dig deep into your pockets and leave with some great stuff. We’ve got gift certificates for the diner, barber shop, and the new J and L Antique Store opening tomorrow.” Cathy winked at Judy before continuing her spiel. “There are gift baskets and…”

Lisa scanned the room, noticing all the townspeople dressed in overalls and big frilly skirts. She leaned into Eric and whispered, “Where are the kids?”

“What do you mean?” Eric asked.

“Shouldn’t the kids be here if this party is for them?”

Eric slipped his hand from her shoulder to her lower back. Releasing Judy, he turned and tilted his head to the side. “You know, I’ve asked that same question.”

“Then what’s the answer?”

Eric leaned over, cupping the back of her head so he could whisper in her ear. Her neck tingled at his touch. “That I was crazy for suggesting such a thing.” His warm breath kissed her ear, and everything else around her faded from her attention.

When he released her and stepped back, she regrouped quickly. “It doesn’t seem right. Next time, we should bus the kids in ourselves.” She could just imagine how much fun kids would have in the large open space, with hay bales to climb on and hide behind.

Eric smiled one of those winning, brighten-your-day kind of smiles.

“…so place your bids and enjoy the party,” Cathy finally concluded her speech and the music vibrated the wooden floor beneath Lisa’s feet once more. Cathy left the stage and whirled around the room, ordering people to complete various tasks.

Lisa stood on her tiptoes. “I…I’m sorry for whatever I said that upset you,” she offered her apology, battling the music to be heard.

“No, it wasn’t you. I thought Mom had meddled where she didn’t belong, but I guess it was just a coincidence.”

Judy maneuvered close to them and shouted, “Eric.” She squeezed his hand and Lisa was sure their eyes had a chat without a word leaving their lips. Judy smiled, he nodded. “You mind hanging with Lisa for a bit and introducing her around? I need to speak to Cathy about something.”

“Sure, my pleasure.” Eric slid his hand into Lisa’s and guided her to the refreshment table. “You should try the punch. It’s one of those infamous Sweetwater recipes.”

Lisa took the plastic cup he offered and sipped the pale red liquid. A strong, bitter tasting beverage slid down her throat. Coughing, she set the cup back on the table. “What’s in that? I haven’t tasted anything like that since college.”

Eric chuckled. “Sweetwater Punch. You do know where the name Sweetwater came from, right?”

Lisa still struggled against the sting in her throat as she said, “It’s named after the creek.”

“Yes, but do you know why it’s called Sweetwater Creek?” Eric’s dimples made an appearance, soothing her scorched throat. “Back in the day, Sweetwater was code for Whiskey. This county was the hub for supplying New York City with libations during the prohibition era. Cathy Mitchell’s grandfather, Jonathan Sweetwater ran the business.”

“Really?” Lisa scanned all the church-going, barn-dancing folks in the room. “I mean, I didn’t picture people in this town even drinking. It’s part of the Bible belt, right?”

“We all attend church on Sunday, but any other night of the week it’s okay to indulge. Of course, most of the townspeople only drink for medicinal purposes.” Eric half bowed, his eyes dancing around the room at various people.

Was it true? Did these people drink? She’d made the trek here to find a family to adopt her child that was devoid of the demons she grew up with. Scanning the crowd, she eyed a few various couples, but did they drink to excess then repent about it on Sunday?

“And if you want to know who partakes and who abstains, just ask Cathy Mitchell. She doesn’t like to gossip, but she’ll still tell you.” He winked down at her.

“So I’ve heard,” Lisa teased, poking him in his side.

“That’s right; you’re a sophisticated New York City girl. Nothing gets past you.” Eric took a swig of punch.

“From what I understand, you were a city boy for a while yourself.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Eric’s playful grin disappeared and his eyes cast over with a haunting gaze before he shook his head and placed his cup back down on the table.

A brunette woman approached and patted Eric on the shoulder. “Good to see you here.”

Eric scratched his temple. “Yes, well, you know how persuasive my mother can be. Oh, Connie, this is Lisa Mortan.” He scooted Lisa into his side as if introducing his girlfriend. Connie’s eyes drifted to his hand on Lisa’s waist, causing Lisa’s face to flame.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Connie said. “I’m Mr. Gaylord’s receptionist.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Lisa tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and fought an internal war between leaning further into Eric or pulling away.