Too Darn Hot (18 page)

“It’s not raining, it’s misting,” Lina said. “He’s not here. Take me home.”

“No. What’s back there?” She pointed to where the dunes curved around to the right.

Back there is a lovely little secluded cove with hot sand and cold water and gulls who beg for bites of Fluffernutter.

“Nothing. There’s nothing back there.”

Suddenly alert, Joy leaned forward and wiped fog off the windshield with her gloved hand. “Liar.” Through the mist a tall figure came into view from around the dunes, loping at a steady pace along the water’s edge. “Is that him?”

“Yes.” Even at a distance Lina recognized his fluid, masculine grace.

Joy turned up her collar and opened the car door. “Out.”

There was no use fighting her. When Joy latched on to a mission, she was like a dog with a bone. “I’m coming,” Lina grumbled.

The sky was a somber gray shroud on this brisk November afternoon, blending with the gray-green of the choppy ocean, obscuring the horizon. A lively wind whipped the mist, stinging their faces. Perfect weather for a confrontation, Lina thought, shoving her bare hands into the pockets of her jacket as she shuffled along in her roommate’s wake.

Joy didn’t hesitate. She marched straight toward Eric, tossing glances over her shoulder to make sure her charge hadn’t escaped. When he saw them he stopped and stared, chest heaving from exertion, breath smoking. Lina stopped, too, and tried to make out his expression. Joy snagged her sleeve and hauled her across the white sand.

Eric cut an arresting figure against the backdrop of the churning surf, broad-shouldered, still as stone. They stopped a few feet away, close enough to see the trace of steam that rose off his head and his forearms where he’d pushed up the sleeves of his dark green sweatshirt.

Close enough to see the hard set of his jaw.

“This has gone on long enough,” Joy announced without preliminaries. “It’s time for you two to clear the air.”

“This isn’t your concern, Joy,” Eric countered. He studiously avoided looking at Lina. “I know you mean well, but—”

“Don’t give me that crap,” she interrupted. “You have to at least talk to the woman, hear her side—”

“The circumstances speak for themselves.”

Lina felt weary and defeated. The man she loved had no desire to make things right, to even entertain the possibility she was blameless. If this was his level of commitment to her, she didn’t need him. “I’ll be in the car, Joy.”

She turned to leave, then stopped, wanting to make one thing clear. “This wasn’t my idea, Eric. It won’t happen again. I—” She choked on her words, feeling as if her heart were being torn from her chest. “I only wish you trusted me enough to—”

“Trust you?” Eric was animated now, his eyes glowing with a fierce golden light. “I did trust you, dammit. I loved you.”

Joy took this as her cue to leave. As she headed toward the car, she called over her shoulder, “Ask her why the super was fired.”

Eric was unable to contain his bafflement. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” He looked at Lina’s pale face. He told himself that her eyes were tearing from the wind, that her cheeks were damp from the mist. She slipped her hands into her pockets, hunched her shoulders against the cold, and started back toward the parking lot.

Shutting her out was damn near impossible now that he’d looked into those sapphire eyes, so filled with pain—now that he’d heard that little catch in her voice. It ate right through him. Refusing her calls had been so much easier. As he’d known it would be.

He closed his eyes and sucked in a lungful of briny air.
Let her walk away. It’s what you should have done a half year ago at The Cookhouse. Just let her walk away.

“Lina.” What was he doing? “What’s this about the super?”

She kept walking.

“Lina!”

He cursed soundly and sprinted to catch up with her. Brusquely he spun her around. There was no denying her tears now. She tried to jerk out of his grasp, but he held on to her shoulders.

Eric sighed in defeat. He had no will where this woman was concerned. “Okay,” he said gently, “I’m asking. What’s with the super?”

She looked away, snuffling pathetically. “He was

f-fired.”

“Yeah, so I gather.” He patted the back pocket of his gray sweatpants, but all he felt was his car key. No tissues.

Lina dug one out of her pocket and blew her nose. She dragged in a steadying breath.

“Why was Rocky fired?” he asked.

“Because he let Steve into my apartment when I wasn’t home.” Her sad eyes met his at last. “Steve greased his palm and said he was my brother. Then he...well, you know...got comfortable. In my bed. Waiting for me.”

Abruptly Eric released her and pushed his fingers through his damp hair. He turned his face in to the icy breeze. This was too weird. Nobody was that big a jerk.

Except possibly the arrogant creep he’d met in Lina’s apartment.

“You’re telling me...” He shook his head as if to dispel the absurd notion.

“That’s what happened,” she said flatly. “I told you I wasn’t involved with Steve.”

His mind supplied the part Lina left out.
And you chose not to believe me.

He hurt for her. He hurt for them both. “And for this they fired Rocky?” he asked.

“It was the final straw. He’s been pulling this kind of nonsense for years, and the management company finally decided to can him. What’s the sense in having twenty-four-hour doormen and all kinds of security if someone can slip the super a few bucks and get into an apartment?”

“Especially unsavory types like horny ex-husbands.”

“Exactly.”

He couldn’t help asking, “So what did you do when you came home and found Steve in your bed?”

“I tore off my clothes and performed unspeakable acts with him.”

“In front of Percy?” Lord, it felt good to smile again.

“I blindfolded Percy.” She looked away again, toward the murky horizon. “So are you going to call the management company and verify my story? About Rocky?”

“Of course not. I believe you.” God, he wanted to hold her. She probably wouldn’t let him. He framed her cool, moist face in his palms. “When I found that creep in your bed—after what happened with Ruth...” He dragged her into his embrace, holding her tight, nuzzling her silky hair. “Forgive me, honey.” His voice cracked. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. I don’t think I realized how much I love you—need you—until Steve started mouthing off about how I’ve abandoned my scruples, how I’m granting reviews to restaurateurs I’m sleeping with.”

“The son of a bitch,” he growled.

“It’s okay.” She looked up at him. “I’m glad he said those things. He opened my eyes.”

“I can’t believe you’d give any credence to what that bastard—”

“I don’t. Don’t you see? Long ago you told me not to worry about what petty, small-minded people might say or do, and you were right. Steve’s about as petty and small-minded as they come. When he laid that on me, about favoritism, he was just trying to get to me. I don’t even care whether he believes what he’s saying. I know he’s wrong. So will any thinking person. What it comes down to is, I refuse to abdicate control of my life to people like Steve.”

“Does this mean we can show our faces in public? At the same time? In the same general vicinity?”

“I’d say we’re about five months overdue for that first date. Especially considering...” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “There’s something I’ve needed to tell you for the last two weeks.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Eric said, “Honey, whatever it is, just spit it—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Those two little words slammed into his gut, making his heart skid and his mind seize up. He could only stare mutely, looking her up and down.

“A baby?” he whispered.

She nodded, biting her trembling lip.

From somewhere deep inside, a tidal wave of emotion swelled and crested and burst forth in a long, loud whoop of pure elation. He laughed like a madman and lifted Lina, whirling her around and around in that wind-driven mist, under the dreary gray skies.

When he finally ran out of steam, they collapsed together on the wet sand, laughing breathlessly. The delicacy of her condition dawned on him and he sobered.

“Honey...” He laid a palm on her flat belly. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.”

She looked, well, radiant. Wasn’t that how pregnant women are supposed to look?

Radiant and relieved. “Are you happy?” she asked shyly.

“Hell no. Do I look happy?” He was well aware of the idiot grin plastered across his face.

“I was afraid you might not be thrilled about becoming a father again.”

“In my dotage?” He sprang to his feet and pulled her up.

“Well...” A teasing light came into her eyes.

He began brushing damp sand off the front of her suede jacket, letting his fingers linger naughtily. “I’ll show you just how decrepit I am when I get you alone, witch.”

Sobering, he dropped his hands to enfold hers and searched her eyes. He took nothing for granted. This would be done properly. She was entitled to that, baby or no baby.

“Will you marry me, Lina?”

She hesitated. “Are you asking because I’m pregnant?”

“No. I was planning to ask you before this whole mess with Steve. I think we both knew we’d reached a make-or-break point. All that sneaking around—it was driving me crazy.” He squeezed her hands. “Honey, I love you so much, I want to holler it from the rooftops.”

Her eyes misted and she bit back of little gust of laughter. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed her joyful answer.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Eric.”

He couldn’t have said how long he stood there holding her, rubbing her back, absorbing her warmth and her heartbeat. Wondering about the tiny new life pulsing within her. A life the two of them created out of their love.

Suddenly the losses of the past paled against a future of limitless potential.

At last he kissed her, a lingering kiss of devotion and promise. When they separated, he was surprised to see the sky had cleared and the sun was trying to peek between the clouds. It was a good omen.

He put his arm around her and steered her past the dunes.

“Where are we going?”

“There.” He pointed to two rows of beach cabanas set facing each other, two long whitewashed buildings actually, each subdivided into a dozen little rooms behind barn-type doors secured with padlocks. He headed for his cabana—third one on the right—and impatiently spun the combination lock.

The door creaked open on corroded hinges to reveal the small, shabby room, furnished with only a counter, cupboard, and bench, plus a tiny bathroom and shower in the back. A wooden picnic table was propped on its side against one wall, a rusted charcoal grill nestled between its legs. Folded-up lawn chairs were stacked in a corner on the sandy plank floor.

Eric did a quick inventory. Everything was where he and the boys had left it at the end of the summer. Frisbee. Suntan lotion. Rubber thong sandals. Enough salt-stained baseball caps to outfit the National League. A damp mustiness pervaded the space.

“I’ll take it.” Lina rubbed her hands together. She was shivering. “The grand piano will go there, the billiard table there.”

“You’re smart to snap it up. This neighborhood is positively crying for gentrification.”

He pulled a worn aluminum and plastic patio chaise from the bottom of the pile of chairs and unfolded it. “Let’s see, there should be...” A quick rummage through the cupboard bore fruit. “Yes!” The tattered wool beach blanket gave up sand and flakes of dry black seaweed as he shook it out.

Eric spread the blanket on the chaise. “Ta da!”

He was one great mass of throbbing, pulsing need. After only two weeks of downtime. Good God, how had he survived a year and a half?

He gestured proudly at his handiwork. “Where there’s a will—”

“You can’t be serious.” Her words puffed in the frosty air.

He dragged the zipper of her jacket down. “We’ll keep each other warm.”

“You are serious.”

He slid his hands around her waist and nuzzled her, tasting and teasing the sensitive skin at the base of her neck, feeling her shiver in response. Her pebbled nipples poked him through their clothing. Either she really was cold or he was better than he thought. He slipped his fingers under the red cashmere sweater and reached for her bra hook.

She chuckled, a delicious throaty sound that sent a fresh surge of heat through his lower body. Her hands came up to play with the hair at his nape. “I think you’ve just set a land speed record for bra release.” She sucked in her breath as his fingertips lightly stroked the sides of her breasts.

In the last few months he’d learned every one of her hot spots, and dammit, he was going to put that knowledge to use now.

“Eric—the door’s open.”

“Mmm...no one’s out there.”

“Yeah, but...” Nervously she glanced outside.

He left her just long enough to pull the door closed, throwing the cabana into darkness. Only a thin strip of light showed around the doorframe.

“There. Now it’s just you—” he found her in the dark and took up where he’d left off, nibbling her ear “—and me.”

She squeaked in surprise as he lowered her to the makeshift bed. “This is—”

Eric silenced her with a kiss. He inhaled the laughter that erupted from her when he gingerly added his weight to hers, causing the ancient metal frame of the chaise to shriek in protest. Clumsily he bundled them into the sandy blanket. It was like a giant, gritty cocoon.

“There!” he said. “Snug as a— Oof!”

“Sorry. Just trying to get comfy.” She squirmed under him.

“Does this help?” He pushed up her sweater and bra and lowered his mouth to her breast. She gasped in pleasure, clutching his shoulders as he nipped the taut crest and drew it into his hot mouth. He suckled deeply, lightly pinching its twin. When he began fumbling with the zipper of her pants, she didn’t protest.

Within seconds her jeans and panties were wadded at her ankles, and Eric’s clothing was similarly disarranged. The only sounds in the velvet blackness of the musty cabana were their sighs and the creak of overstressed aluminum.