What The Heart Finds (14 page)

She walked over, pulling
the lock and opening the door.

And there was Eric.
Looking undeniably sexy in gray slacks and a black dress shirt, the
top button left open. She looked at him disbelieving for a moment
before she even realized he was holding a bouquet of flowers. But,
sure enough, there in his hand was a beautiful assortment of white
flowers.

Her eyes flew up to his
face, big and confused.

“Hey beautiful,”
he said, drawling the word out and smiling an almost shy smile.

Lena's brows drew
together. “What are you doing here?”

Eric smiled, shaking his
head, losing the insecurity. “I am taking you to dinner.”

“To dinner?”
Lena repeated dumbly.

“Yes,” he
smirked. “You know. You go to a restaurant. You eat food. You
talk. Maybe dance...”

“You dance?”
Lena broke in, her mind in a strange sort of fog. Not quite
comprehending what was going on.

“Yes baby,”
he said, winking. “I dance. So why don't you take these,”
he said, extending the flowers out to her. “and put them in
water in one of those antique bathroom cups the inn is so fond of.
Slip into your shoes,” he said, smiling down at her bare feet.
“and then we can get going.”

Lena took the flowers and
moved into the bathroom, filling the cup with water and putting the
flowers in. She glanced up at herself in the mirror, her eyes wide.
Was Eric O'reilly actually... taking her on a date? The idea was so
comical, she felt a hysterical laugh build up in her throat. She
fought against it, the sound coming out in one strangled yip.

She didn't know exactly
what possessed her to do so, but she reached up and pulled her hair
out of its bun. She ran her fingers through it until it settled
neatly down around her shoulders before she walked back into her
room.

Eric was running his
fingers over the surface of her laptop, looking out toward the
street. He glanced over when he heard her, offering her a small,
appreciative smile. “Much better,” he said as he watched
her walk over to the closet and look for a pair of shoes. “You
actually use the closets in hotels?” he asked, looking at all
the neat clothes on hangers, the shoes lined up on the floor.

“Doesn't
everybody?” Lena asked, standing up and slipping into a pair of
navy blue sandals.

“No,” Eric
laughed, moving over toward her and grabbing her hand.

“Wait,” Lena
yelped as he pulled her toward the door. She reached out awkwardly,
grabbing her purse and room key. He led her silently down the hall
and toward the stairs. “So where are we going? To the diner?”

Eric looked over at her
as if she had grown another head for a second before shaking his
head. “No, baby. We aren't going to the diner,” he said
and gently pulled her behind him down the stairs. “Hey Dev,”
he said as they walked past the front desk.

“Once in a
lifetime,” Devon winked at her as she passed.

“Shut up you,”
she said, not unkindly as Eric continued to lead her out toward the
street.

“Once in a lifetime
what?” Eric asked, slowing his pace. Like the threat of her
rejection was behind them.

“What? Oh, nothing.
He was just being silly,” she said, looking for his truck.

“Alright. Keep your
secrets,” he said, leading her to a vintage black muscle car,
the paint bright and shiny. He opened the door, and looked over at
her when she didn't move to get inside.

“How many cars do
you have?” she asked, glancing in at the clean interior.

“A few,” Eric
said cryptically, holding out a hand until she lowered herself in. He
shut the door and quickly climbed into the driver's seat, turning the
car over.

“So where are we
going if we aren't going to the diner? Isn't that the only place to
eat in town besides the inn?”

“Yeah,” Eric
agreed, pulling the car onto the street. “but I never said we
were eating in town.”

–

They drove for a half an
hour, Lena lost in thought, staring out the window as Eric sang
along to the classic rock on the radio, thrumming his hands against
the steering wheel. As the pulled onto the busy road she came in on,
they turned off in the opposite direction. Lena glanced over at Eric
occasionally, marveling at how different he seemed to be when he
wasn't trying to get inside someone's panties. He seemed lighter, the
sharp angles of his face softer.

“Where is this
restaurant?” she asked, checking the clock on the radio. “in
another state?”

Eric sent her a small
smile, turning the car off of the busy road. “We're almost
there.”

Then two minutes later,
they were. It was a small gray stucco building with immaculately
manicured ornamental trees and shrubbery. Everything about it
screamed money. Lena looked self-consciously down at her clothes. She
should really be in a dress.

“Eric,” she
said, her voice holding a weight he could feel.

“What's the
matter?”

“I'm not dressed
for a place like...”

“Oh stop,”
Eric smiled, turning the car off and moving quickly around to her
side. “Everything you own is appropriate for fine dining. Hell,
you could probably wear those silk pj pants,” he said, offering
his hand to help her out. “and no one would bat an eye.”
His hand went to her lower back as he guided her toward the entrance
and through the door.

The inside of the
restaurant was elegant yet Tuscan rustic. The wood was all reclaimed
with charming dents and dings but stained a perfect mid-shade brown.
The walls were a light beige color, something she would call papyrus
because it resembled pages of antique books. There were simple wooden
tables in intimate groups of two or four. The floor was a natural
stone, the individual tiles soft and almost rounded upward in varying
shades of brown.

There was a bar toward
the back, a huge ceiling-high wine rack behind it, bottles peaking
out of each of their cubbies.

At the center of each
table was a low brass pot with herbs growing out of them.

The gorgeous blond
hostess smiled automatically as they approached, but then smiled
genuinely at Eric for far too long to be professional.

Lena felt a bit of
jealous possessiveness well up unbidden. Granted, she and Eric
weren't a couple. But she certainly didn't know that.

“How are you this
evening?” she purred at Eric, leaning slightly over her podium,
her shirt slipping lower and revealing her unfairly large breasts.

“We're,” Eric
said the word firmly, his hand putting more pressure on her lower
back and pulling her closer to his side. “very well thank you.”

She stood up straighter,
pushing her shoulders back, professional again. “What name is
the reservation under?”

“O'reilly.”

The hostess eyes flew
upward. “Eric?” she asked, as if the name meant
something.

“That's me,”
Eric smiled charmingly at her, the poor girl.

“Right. Oh,”
she said, looking around, flustered. “I'm so sorry. Lenny
wanted to make sure you have the best seat,” she said, glancing
down at her seating chart. “Okay,” she said, taking a
breath, recovering. “right this way, please.”

She led them over to a
far corner in the restaurant, situated away from the rest of the
tables. The bench was nestled in the nook of two walls, a long
singular seat for them to share in front of their table.

Eric released her back,
motioning for her to scoot in. He moved in beside her, taking the
menus from the hostess.

“Lenny will be over
to say hello in a moment,” she said, smiling. “Enjoy your
meal.”

Lena ran her hands over
the table, sitting up a little too straight.

“What's the
matter?” Eric asked, too close to her ear. His entire body was
pressed up next to hers.

“We are same-side
sitting,” she said, scrunching her nose up. “I always
make fun of same side seaters.”

Eric chuckled, his hand
moving to her knee. “No, see?” he said, gesturing out to
the other side of the table. “This isn't same-side sitting.
Because there is no other side to this table.”

“But there is
another side to...”

“Not with chairs,”
he broke in, smiling.

Lena reached out toward
the center of the table, stroking the leaves of a rosemary plant.
“This is a really cute idea,” she said, switching the
topic.

“They're Anna's,”
Eric said, pointing to the small handwritten note on the front with
the words Tasty Trio. In tiny print underneath that is said Annabelle
Goode.

“Oh wow. Small
world.”

“Not really,”
Eric said, shrugging. “Sam sells here. So when he was dating
Anna, he got her in. Lenny is infatuated with Anna. He's her biggest
customer.”

“So how do you know
Lenny?” Lena asked, not entirely sure who Lenny was.

“He fix my car,”
a deep male voice said, heavy with accent. Lena looked up to see
Lenny in a white chef's jacket. He was heavyset man with a full,
welcoming face. “Everyone else say no can fix. He fix like
that,” he said, snapping his fingers.

Lena smiled. “Well
that is good to know since he is currently working on my car.”

“He fix it. It will
be new again. Eric, Eric,” he said, reaching out. Eric got up
out of the booth, shaking Lenny's hand heartily before being pulled
into a big bear hug. “You never visit,” Lenny complained,
his tone light.

“I know,”
Eric said. “It's been too long. But I'm here now,” he
said, holding an arm out toward Lena. She quickly scooted out of the
booth to stand next to him. “This is Lena. Lena this is Lenny,
the best chef in this state,” at Lenny's raised brow, he
chuckled. “or any other state for that matter.”

Lena smiled, holding out
her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

“You too,” he
said, shaking her hand roughly. “So I don't see you for... for
year and then you come here with this lovely young lady,” Lenny
said, his tone teasing.

“Don't,” Eric
said, almost blushing.

Lena looked at him
amused. “Oh please do,” she said, smiling. “No one
else seems to be capable of making the unflappable Eric O'reilly
flustered.”

“Hush you,”
he said, smiling, reaching over and pinching her backside out of
Lenny's view.

“Oh, no matter. No
matter,” he said, waving a chubby hand. “You eat, right?
I send you something special to eat.”

Eric looked over at Lena,
seeking permission. “Yes of course,” she said, smiling.
“that would be great.”

“Good. Good. Sit. I
send over waiter with some wine,” he said, bustling off.

Lena scooted back into
the booth, collecting both their menus since they would not be
needing them. She had a second to glance over the prices and felt her
stomach tighten. It was even worse than she had expected.

“So that was
Lenny,” Eric said, taking the menus from her and moving them to
the edge of the table to be collected.

“He's great,”
Lena said and meant it.

“Yeah he is,”
Eric agreed, his hand moving to her knee again. Casually. But she
felt desire well up regardless. “Wait until you have his food.
He's really amazing.”

The waiter came over,
pouring them each glasses of red wine and she had a moment to marvel
at Eric's varied tastes. She had sort of pegged him for a beer
drinker. Maybe she needed to stop making assumptions.

“So Lena,” he
said, rolling her name over in his mouth. Intimate. “what do
you do when you're not working?”

Lena looked over at him
for a moment. Casual conversation. They were actually having a casual
conversation without any undercurrent of sexuality.

“I'm always
working,” she said, smiling into her wine glass. He raised a
brow at her and she shrugged. “I dunno. I bake. I run errands.
I don't do much.”

“So what do you do
for work then?”

Lena felt herself stiffen
slightly. She had to be very careful here. But she didn't want to lie
to him either. “I'm an executive assistant to a venture
capitalist,” she said, telling half of the truth.

“Wow,” Eric
said, his tone dry. “that sounds incredibly boring.”

“Yes because car
engines are so fascinating,” she shot back.

“Maybe not,”
Eric conceded. “but I'm not married to my job.”

“Hey that's not...”

Eric's hand landed on her
arm, his fingers stroking back and forth. “Let's not,” he
said quietly. “get on each others nerves just because we can.”

“Right,” Lena
said, nodding. They were having a perfectly good time. There was no
point pushing each others buttons and ruining it. “Okay subject
change,” she said, grasping for something they could discuss.

“Stop trying so
hard,” he coaxed. “Just ask me whatever is on your
mind.”

“Okay,” she
said, turning her hips away from him so she could face him. “Why
did you choose to stay in Stars Landing? Was is just habit?
Familiarity?”