He knew for a fact that the physical pull between a man and a woman tended to lead the way where the sexes were concerned. If Curt had been half the man Erik suspected he was, he’d have had as hard a time as he was at that moment keeping his hands to himself. On the parental objection front, he couldn’t imagine his own folks finding any fault with her at all.
“As for eloping,” he continued, not at all sure where that last thought had come from, “he probably knew his parents wouldn’t be willing participants, so it just made sense to avoid the problem. Most guys I know prefer to duck all the big wedding plans, anyway. Unless that’s what his fiancée really wants,” he qualified, because he’d given in on that one himself.
A bit of red glitter clung to one knee of her jeans. With the tip of her index finger, she gave it a nudge. “I didn’t care about anything big, Erik. I just wanted to marry him.”
He had no idea why that didn’t surprise him. What did was how a while ago, he’d wanted details. Now, he did not.
“A little more insider info here,” he offered, despite a stab of what felt suspiciously like envy. “Men aren’t that complicated. If Curt was like most of us, if he was working longer hours, he was just doing what he needed to do to get ahead in his field and provide the kind of life he wanted for his family. It’s what a guy does,” he said simply. “Our egos tend to be tied to what we do for a living. But our work is also how we take care of the people we care about.”
As if he’d just touched on something familiar, her glance lifted, then promptly fell.
She’d forgotten how often Curt had told her that he wouldn’t be putting in those hours forever. That soon he’d be a partner and they could afford a bigger house, better cars, the kinds of vacations he wanted them to take. So many times he’d told her he was doing what he was doing for them.
She’d loved him for that. But she also remembered telling him she couldn’t imagine living in a house larger than the one they had. She’d been fine—more than fine—with everything they’d already possessed.
“I think he needed bigger and better more than I did.”
“That’s entirely possible.” Erik watched her nudge again at the bit of sparkle, the rest of her fingers curled into her palm. “A lot of people measure their success by their acquisitions. Especially if the people around them do the same thing.” He wouldn’t be in business himself if there weren’t people who wanted to own the exclusive sailing sloops he loved to build. “That doesn’t mean he wasn’t thinking of you. And Tyler. And don’t forget, he also cared enough about what you had together to work through the...ah...baby problem you two had,” he decided to call it, “and adopt that great little guy upstairs.”
What she had recalled moments ago had put a microscopic tear in the doubts that had caused her to question nearly every memory. Erik’s conclusions had just ripped that hole wide.
She had no secrets from this man, she realized. There was nothing of any import about her he didn’t know and, in some inexplicable way, seem to understand. Because of that he had just reminded her of a time when she had known without a doubt that her husband loved her. Curt had been so worried about losing her, of her thinking less of him because he couldn’t give her the child they’d both wanted so much. Yet the struggles, disappointments and finally the joy of Tyler had only brought them closer.
So many details of her married life had faded in the past months. So much had been lost or skewed by second-guessing and uncertainties. But that much she remembered with crystal clarity, and while the memory was a bittersweet reminder of what she had lost, it also felt mercifully...healing.
“As for the rest of it,” he said quietly, “if you were happy and if he seemed happy with you and Tyler, that’s all that matters.” Without thinking, he reached over, traced his finger over hers. “If you’d stop looking for ways to explain what you heard, I think you’d probably know that.”
The tip of his finger moved over her knuckles, his touch gentle, reassuring. His strong hand looked huge next to hers, and she wanted badly to absorb his certainty as he uncurled her fingers and rested his palm on the back of her hand.
“Do you think you can do that?” he asked.
Watching his fingers curve around hers, she gave another little nod.
“That’s a start, then,” he murmured.
He had no idea how far beyond a start he’d led her.
At that moment, with Erik doing nothing but holding her hand, she couldn’t help but think of how Curt would have really liked this man. She could have hugged him herself for defending Curt the way he had—had she not already been wishing he would hold her.
He tipped up her chin, curved his hand to the side of her face. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Her heart gave an odd little bump. “Sure.”
“You’re a really lousy liar.”
She had no idea what he saw in her expression. She just knew her throat felt suspiciously tight as his dark eyes narrowed on hers.
“You’ll be all right, Rory. I don’t know how long it will take for you,” he admitted, surprising empathy in the deep tones of his voice. “It was a couple of years before I realized I was having a good time again. But you’ll get better before you even realize it’s happening.”
Her head unconsciously moved toward his palm. The heat of his hand felt good against her cheek, warm, comforting. Grounding. At that moment, she just didn’t know if it was that anchoring touch or his confident assurance that she needed most. She felt relieved by that contact. It was as if he was letting her know she wasn’t as alone as she so often felt. She craved that security as much as she did his disarming gentleness when his thumb brushed the curve of her jaw and edged to the corner of her mouth.
His eyes followed the slow movement, his carved features going taut as he carried that mesmerizing motion to her bottom lip.
Her breath caught. When she felt his thumb give a little tug, her heart bumped hard against her ribs.
An instant later, his jaw tightened and his hand fell.
At his abrupt withdrawal, disappointment shot through her. Swift and unsettling. She wouldn’t have pulled away, wouldn’t have done a thing to stop him had he moved closer. Knowing that, embarrassingly certain he did, too, Rory rose before he could and reached for an empty mug on the end table.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I said I wouldn’t do that again. Dump on you like that, I mean.”
When she turned back, Erik had pushed himself to his feet.
Beyond his broad shoulders, a log broke in the fireplace, embers spraying upward. The tick of ice blowing hard against the window grew more audible with another gust of wind.
The storm added yet another layer of unease.
“I asked,” he reminded her.
“That’s true.” Hoping to shake how he unsettled her, she tried for a smile. “So it’s your fault.”
She was talking about his uncanny ability to uncork her most private concerns. From the way his glance dropped to her mouth, he seemed to be thinking more of the seductive pull snaking across the six feet of tension separating them.
Or maybe it was just her own tension she felt.
“Just part of the service.”
He’d only been doing his job.
The reminder had her ducking her head as she turned away. It didn’t matter that she’d wanted his kiss, or how badly she’d wanted him to hold her. It didn’t even matter