“That’s all I ask.” He headed out the door, taking his incredible scent and sensual smile with him.
Erica had the urge to sing while she went about preparing the food. She also had the urge to laugh. Her spirits had definitely been buoyed by his declaration, and also by the scene taking place outside the garden window.
Stormy threw the ball to Kieran with accuracy, with more exuberance than she’d witnessed from her child before. And Kieran softly tossed the ball back, undoubtedly making certain she wasn’t injured in any way. Sheer joy showed in both their faces, and Erica experienced it, too, as well as some trepidation.
Someday in the near future, Kieran wouldn’t be around to play catch, something Stormy would have to deal with. But until then, Erica wouldn’t begrudge her daughter these moments, and hoped that when the time came, they could both let him go without regret.
While Erica and Stormy loaded the last of the dishes in the washer, Kieran remained at the table and watched the pair interact. He had to admit, he’d enjoyed every minute of the dinner, even if he did detest fish. But he valued the company most of all, mainly the back-and-forth banter between mother and daughter that bordered on comical at times. They didn’t always agree on everything, but they were obviously devoted to each other.
As much as he’d enjoyed himself so far, he had to remember he’d come there for two reasons—to help Stormy with softball, and to fulfill his obligation to Erica by putting her through a workout, and not the workout he’d envisioned over the past two days. He wanted to blame his brother for putting the thoughts in his head, but he could only blame himself. He’d been keenly aware of his attraction to Erica from the moment he’d stepped onto her front porch. Denying that attraction wouldn’t change anything. Acting on impulse would, which was why he needed to remember why he was there.
After checking his watch, Kieran realized he’d come close to overstaying his welcome. “If you two are done, it’s time to get to work.”
Erica came back to the table and dropped into the opposing chair. “Just give me five more minutes and I’ll be ready.”
Stormy took the chair next to her mother. “Can I watch you exercise, Mom?”
“No, you cannot, missy,” Erica said. “But you can get ready for bed, put away your clean clothes and read the rest of the book you have to finish by Thursday.”
Stormy pushed back from the table, stood and sulked toward the hallway before turning around. “Did you call Kaylee’s mom about the party?”
“I haven’t had time, Stormy, but I’ll call her tomorrow. Now scoot.”
Not only did Stormy fail to scoot, she returned to the table again, this time positioning herself next to Kieran. “Mom doesn’t want me to go to the party because boys are going to be there. That’s not fair, is it?”
Fair or not, he wasn’t about to offer his opinion for fear of screwing up again and suffering Erica’s wrath. “That’s between you and your mom, kiddo.”
Erica pointed toward the hall. “Go, Stormy.”
Stormy blew out an exaggerated breath. “Okay. But I still don’t think it’s fair.”
After Stormy left, Kieran couldn’t help but chuckle. “She’s pretty damn headstrong, isn’t she?”
Erica released a humorless laugh. “You could say that. On one hand, it drives me nuts. On the other, her tenacity’s gotten her through some really tough times. I just wish she’d learn a little moderation.”
“Moderation is good,” he said. “So was dinner.”
She leaned forward, braced an elbow on the table and supported her cheek with her palm. “Was it? I thought the fish was kind of dry.”
A little, but he wasn’t going to say anything to hurt her feelings. “It was fine. Best fish I’ve had in a long time.” The only fish he’d had in years.
“Do you think I’m being too protective about the party?”
He could lie and guarantee a pleasant remainder of the evening, or he could be truthful and possibly be prematurely asked to leave. “How old are the boys?”
“Mostly eleven-year-olds, I’d guess.”
“Eleven-year-old boys aren’t too bad. Twelve is another story altogether.”
She smiled, bringing her dimples into full view. “I suppose you should know since you were one once.”
“A long time ago, but I still remember some of it.” Especially the memories that involved sticking up for his brother on the playground, before Kevin had finally caught up in size to everyone else his age and started fighting his own battles.
“Then you think she’d be okay if I let her go?”
He didn’t particularly care for being put on the spot, but since she’d asked…“I think you should trust her to make the right decisions. She’s a smart kid with a good head on her shoulders.”
Erica leaned back against the chair and sighed. “But it seems so important to her to fit in. I worry that peer pressure could lead her to make the wrong decisions. On the way home from the club Saturday night, she actually asked me about kissing. She’s not even eleven yet.”
That could mean only one thing. “She didn’t happen to see—”
“I don’t think so,” Erica said. “In fact, I know she didn’t. Otherwise, she would’ve asked me point-blank why we were…” Her gaze drifted away. “You know.”
Oh, yeah, he knew. He’d thought about that kiss more than once tonight. Watching Erica eat hadn’t helped. She had an incredible mouth that he’d like to know much better. And if he didn’t get his mind back on track, he might end up making the same mistake again. “As far as Stormy and this party goes, I understand you have her best interests at heart, but I also know from experience that if you keep the hold on her too tight, she’ll rebel. My mother went through the same thing with Kevin. She was overprotective to a fault, and the backlash wasn’t good.”
Erica looked as stiff as a steel beam, and royally ticked off. “I believe I’m perfectly justified in my concern for her. And it’s not as if I don’t let her go anywhere.”
“That’s true, and I strongly believe in structure where kids are concerned. But Stormy’s desire to play softball and attend a boy-girl party isn’t the same as her asking if she can spend spring break in Cancun.”
Erica rubbed both hands over her face. “Thanks for reminding me what I have to look forward to in a few years.” She dropped her palms onto the table and stood. “Since I don’t want to think about that now, let’s move on to the suffering you’re going to put me through. Otherwise, I’m going to get to bed late.”
He’d prefer she not mention the word bed. Bed plus Erica equaled more questionable ideas. “Any suggestions on where we’re going to do this?”
“In the family room,” she said as she headed out of the kitchen.
He followed her down the hall, and once in the den, he took a quick look around. “We need to move the furniture back.”
“Okay. You take the coffee table and I’ll take the chair.”
While he pushed the table closer to the sofa that rested against one wall, Erica moved behind the chair and pulled it back toward the window. She glanced over her shoulder and laughed.
“What’s so funny this time?” he asked.
“I just realized that anyone driving by got an up-close-and-personal view of my butt. I hope the home-owner’s association doesn’t fine me for contributing to an eyesore. They have strict rules about abandoned cars, overgrown lawns,