HER LIPS WERE as soft as he’d imagined. Hazily aware that he was gathering her into his arms, Cole had trouble thinking. The pleasure of finally kissing Erin zapped him as if he’d opened himself to an electrical shock.
Shouldn’t have done this.
Too late.
She hadn’t moved at all, not to respond, not to pull away. God. She was probably in shock.
Cole began to lift his head just as Erin rose up on tiptoe to press her lips harder to his. She flung her arms around his neck, too. The kiss became clumsy and desperate. He nipped her lower lip: their teeth clanked together. If he’d ever had any skill at this, it had atrophied from disuse. Which didn’t seem to matter, because her body was plastered against his, his blood felt thick and hot in his veins, and she was kissing him with as much urgency as he kissed her.
Not one-sided, he thought exultantly. Why he’d started this eluded him. It didn’t seem to matter. Nothing did but the sensations bombarding him—her breasts pressed to his chest, her thighs to his, the quivering intensity running through her body and jumping to his. Her taste, the thick silk of her hair, the little sound she was making.
When his tongue touched hers, it was so damn erotic he jolted.
And thought, What am I doing?
Somehow, he wrenched himself away. One hand hadn’t gotten the message and still squeezed her hip, but at least a few inches separated their bodies.
Erin stared at him, her eyes dazed and heavy-lidded, her lips parted. She blinked, then again, and seemed to realize he wasn’t just catching his breath.
“What...what’s wrong?”
Wrong? Nothing. Everything.
“We can’t do this,” he said hoarsely. “I was...trying to explain something here.”
Her expression slowly changed.
“I already feel like roadkill under the tires of your fancy new SUV. I’d enjoy—” he managed to stop himself from being too crude “—sex with you. I guess you can tell.” He gestured toward his obvious hard-on. “But that’s one thing I’m not willing to do for pay.”
Still she stared, for another second, then cried out and leaped back. “That’s what you think of me?”
“No.” His mouth twisted. “That’s what I think of myself. We’re not equals. We can’t be.” Could she hear how desperately he wished it was different? That he could have her without savaging his pride? “I’m sorry. I owe you so much, I can’t start anything like this.”
She spun away. “Fine. You feel like the hired hand. I get it.” She opened the dishwasher and gazed into it as if she had no idea what the damn thing was.
He felt... He didn’t even know. His fingernails bit into his palms. “I’ll finish what I promised you.”
“Fine,” she said again, but stayed where she was.
Cole backed up until he bumped into the doorframe. He’d been an asshole when he didn’t have to be. He wished he knew what to say to make it all better, to go back fifteen minutes to when they were friends. But so much was churning inside him he couldn’t think.
“Thank you for dinner.”
The sound she made might have been a laugh.
* * *
WHEN SHE WAS sure he was gone, Erin slumped onto a kitchen chair. She labored for breath.
Cole had implied that she’d thrown herself at him. Attacked him. Like she’d expected him to service her in bed because of everything she’d done for him. But he was the one who’d started it. Wasn’t he?
A while back, he’d said something snotty about payback. Maybe that was what this had been. See how scummy you make me feel? Try a little of it, why don’t you? Was humiliation the whole purpose of that kiss?
If so, it had worked. At least she wasn’t crying. She was too stunned. Hurting, but also... She didn’t even know. Why would he do that? Make her feel so much, then lash out so viciously? Was that his version of “thanks, goodbye”? Maybe she’d been totally naive where he was concerned.
If she was careful, perhaps she could avoid seeing him. For all she cared, he could leave the apartment key on the doorstep when he left.
Did she still owe him any money? Erin didn’t think so. She’d stick a note on his apartment door reminding him to return her house key. Not like he’d want to make use of it, she thought painfully. Apparently, that was his message.
The agony swelled and receded like ocean waves. It stung like salt water did on raw flesh, too. Ever since she’d brought him home with her, she hadn’t felt so alone. She would have sworn a bond had formed. Maybe...maybe she was wrong, and she’d only been using him. If so...she wouldn’t apologize. She’d given everything she could in return. Too much, obviously.
Trying for slow, deep breaths, she asked herself what if, come morning, she found out he’d left? A huge hole seemed to open inside her. She reminded herself that he’d promised to finish the work on the apartment. He couldn’t do that overnight.
Yes, but it might be better if he did just leave. She really didn’t want to see him right now, and saying goodbye would be unimaginably awful. I’m such a fool, she thought, the pain cresting. She’d fallen in love with him, and he’d been looking at her with wariness and contempt all along. Pathetic, lonely woman who imagined she could buy him.
She was more than that. She was.
With a whimper, Erin buried her face in her hands. Why had he pretended to care? Tried to prevent her from going out at night? After the nightmare, spent all those hours holding her with such tenderness Erin couldn’t imagine.
When she lifted her head at last and managed to focus on the microwave clock, she saw that at least half an hour had passed. The hurt had...not dulled. It had left behind an ache, the way a horrible cough left chest muscles feeling strained.
She was mad, too. At herself, at him, at fate, if there was such a thing. She’d lived for this? Maybe tonight she should—No. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He’d know he was behind her need to ask Death again if she’d really been meant to be spared.
When he’s gone. Then I’ll do it.
* * *
COLE SNAPPED AWAKE on a flood of adrenaline. Had he heard an engine starting up? He lay completely still, listening for any sound. Nothing. He’d imagined it. Or she’d already escaped.
That thought provoked him into getting out of bed and padding to the front window that looked down on the driveway. The dark bulk of the Cherokee was there. Back in his bedroom, he stood staring at the house, also dark. He’d left his window open, in case—
In case what? Erin had another nightmare and needed him? Yeah, think how welcome he’d be.
He kept grappling with what he’d done. He’d dumped on her because...?
It was the only way to keep her from drumming up new jobs for him. Except he’d already asked her not to, and she’d agreed.
He’d needed her to know how much he wanted her. Why?
Feeling as if he’d been ripped open, Cole thought, I had to push her away before... He didn’t want to finish this explanation, but forced himself. Before I broke and made love to her. Before I got in so deep I convinced myself pride wasn’t worth shit.
His shoulders slumped. Nice to know he’d hurt her to save himself. What happened to all his deep thoughts as he lay in his prison bunk—about honor, about being a man who works hard and takes the high road? About becoming the kind of man who never would have been arrested, far less convicted? A man people would have believed?
If he was going to apologize, he had to bare himself. How else could he expect her to understand?
Cole flopped into bed, groaned and laid his arm over his eyes. Tomorrow, no excuses.
There wasn’t a lot left of the night. He dozed on and off, jolting awake often enough to leave him with a pounding headache come morning.
He winced at the sight of himself in the new bathroom mirror, big and brightened by the also-new, four-bulb vanity light fixture above. He looked like crap. The sleeplessness showed in eyes that appeared sunken and skin that seemed tinted gray. The hollows beneath his cheekbones would, in his opinion, remind anyone seeing him that the human face overlaid a skull. And damn, he wished his hair would grow out faster.
His hand seemed to have a faint tremor, too, that made him glad he’d finally bought an electric shaver and didn’t have to risk drawing blood with the straight razor. When he was done, he rinsed and dried his face before eyeing himself again. Shaving hadn’t improved the view. Maybe seeing how bad he looked would soften Erin’s anger.
Usually, he tried to have a decent breakfast—eggs and toast, or at least cereal. Today, he used a cup of coffee to wash down a couple of too-dry, powdered sugar donuts. Then he picked up his keys, startled for an instant when he remembered one of them was for Erin’s front door.
He’d be returning both of them soon. That knowledge gave him a pang. Being handed the key to the apartment had meant a lot to him. Privacy, independence. Strange that he could’ve accepted the house key from Erin without marveling at the trust involved. Two keys, two gifts, neither of which he could keep.
Shaking his head, he stuffed them in his pocket, and jogged down the stairs and up to Erin’s front door. He rang the doorbell, and heard the chime inside. Followed by...nothing. No lights, no footsteps, no voice.
If she’d had as crappy a night as he had, she might be sleeping in.
He wished he believed that.
He went to the garage to collect what he’d need to install shingles on Del Wagner’s porch roof. When he was done, he’d go talk to Lottie Something. Reluctant as he’d felt, Cole had calculated how much money he’d come out of it with and realized he couldn’t turn down the job. It would give him a little time to hunt for a five-day-a-week job and a room for rent.
Another gift from Erin, one he might resent, but had needed. And she’d known that.
He’d try to catch her at lunchtime. She couldn’t hide forever.
* * *
ERIN MANAGED TO ignore the ringing doorbell for the rest of the day. Working on the house would have meant sneaking out to the garage for paint and supplies, so instead she settled at the kitchen table with her laptop to do research. She started by looking for psychologists within a thirty-mile radius who had expertise in working with victims of trauma. She didn’t put much stock in online reviews for counselors, but she did note specific comments as she made a list.
From there, she browsed job listings, just as Cole had probably been doing, only for herself. If she didn’t start working at least part-time once he left, she thought she might really go nuts. College teaching was out. If not forever, certainly for now. She didn’t have elementary or secondary teaching certification, but talking to Michelle had reminded her of all the other jobs available in schools, and this was probably the right time of year to apply for positions open in the fall. She’d be okay working with younger children.
The county-wide public library system seemed to have regular openings, too. Continuing to browse, she discovered that the city of West Fork was looking for people to teach recreation department programs for the summer. Mostly fun stuff, some computer classes, art for all ages—and sports. Her gaze seemed to freeze on the listing for volleyball.
The next thing she knew, she’d opened the school district website. Feeling as if she was slipping surreptitiously into enemy territory, she read about the high school girls’ sports programs. They did have both volleyball and softball. The volleyball team had a disastrous record. She couldn’t imagine the league was that tough. Probably the team was so bad girls with any athletic ability went out for other sports. Erin couldn’t help wondering who coached it. A teacher who wanted the bump in her paycheck? Or someone who’d been guilted into taking it on despite zero experience, because otherwise the girls wouldn’t have a chance to play at all?
Could I?
Even the timid question was enough to throw her into a panic. No, no. Never again. Or at least...not yet.
How could she step foot in a gymnasium without being deluged by memories? Wouldn’t that be terrific—new volleyball coach midcourt in a catatonic state? Or shouting about ghosts and running for her life?
Back to the public library. She could shelve books, help with research questions, quiet noisy kids and encourage shy ones. Many of the jobs that didn’t require a master’s degree in information science were part-time, but that was all she wanted for now, anyway. The pay wasn’t great, either, but money wasn’t an issue yet. Just getting out there, meeting people, feeling useful and involved, was what she needed. Preparing to rejoin the human race.
When the doorbell rang again at seven thirty, she closed her laptop and tried to convince herself she ought to eat something.
Nobody is on the front porch.
A salad? What about a grilled cheese sandwich? Wasn’t that the classic comfort food?
He’d see the lights on in here. So what? she thought defiantly, before remembering he had a key. He wouldn’t let himself in, would he? He had to know she didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to talk to him.
Soup. There were a bunch of cans in the pantry. Soup was easy.
Fine. Erin went to the pantry and decided on tomato, even though it didn’t sound any more appealing than cream of mushroom or corn chowder or black bean.
She would not use Cole as an excuse to regress to the pitiful creature who’d thought it was an achievement when she succeeded in doing one useful thing a day. No more excuses. No leaning on anyone else. She’d made a start. Cole had helped. Reaching for the can opener, Erin thought, The rest is up to me.
She also decided that tomorrow she would let him say his piece.
* * *
WHEN THE FRONT door opened the next morning, Cole jumped.
Wearing her paint-spattered getup, Erin stood in the opening. “Cole?” Her voice was pleasant, the same one she might use for a stranger on her doorstep.
“Uh, can I come in?” He couldn’t seem to stop himself from shifting his weight from foot to foot, even if that did give away his discomfiture. “I’d like to talk to you.”
“Of course.” She stepped back, closing the door when he was inside. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d led him to the living room, where she’d take a vacuum salesman if she’d decided to listen to his pitch. Instead, he trailed her to the kitchen. “Coffee?” she asked.
He didn’t really want any more, but the offering and accepting felt like a bridge. “Thanks.”
She’d had it brewing and only had to pour. A moment later, they were sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, exactly as they’d been before he ruined the best thing that had happened to him in a very long time.
Erin waited, her expression inquiring and completely impersonal.
“I need to apologize,” he began.
“I’m pretty sure you already did. I’d just as soon not hear it again.” She betrayed not a shred of emotion.
“It took me a while to figure out—” Damn, it was hard to keep going in the face of that cool stare. Refusing to so much as twitch, he said baldly, “I got scared.”
A tiny crinkle appeared on Erin’s forehead. “Scared of what?”
“Of...letting myself feel too much for you.”
The crinkles became a full-blown frown. “I have never implied in any way that I expected a romance or...or sexual services.” The last was as sharp as an open blade. “Why you felt compelled to warn me off—”
“No,” he interrupted. “You don’t understand. I think...I was pushing you away to keep myself from being too tempted. That was a crappy thing to do.”
At least some emotion showed on her face, even if it was only bewilderment. “But I’ve never so much as touched you,” she said.
He knew what she meant, but she had touched him. She had. He remembered every time she’d laid a fine-boned hand on his forearm, every brush of her body in passing. He especially remembered how it felt to hold her for most of the night.
Cole’s gut knotted. Feeling sick, he knew he had to be completely honest.
He flashed back to something that had happened his first month in the pen. He’d been showering with the usual group of other men. Having ducked his head under the hot stream, he made the foolish mistake of relaxing his awareness. Not until he lifted his head and shook the water from his face did he realize the others had silently left the shower room, leaving water running to cover their retreat. In a terrifying instant, he’d understood that they had been ordered to leave him alone. Before he could so much as spin around, deliberate footsteps sounded on the tile floor behind him. Naked, with nothing in reach that could be turned into a weapon, he had been completely vulnerable.
He’d survived with no more than an ugly scar, but the memory still had the power to turn his stomach inside out. Then, he’d had no choice but to face his fears. Now, he could run away—or face them again.
He locked his gaze on hers, knowing how much she might see, but that was part of what he had to do. Less for himself than for her. Leaving her hurt wasn’t an option.
“I wanted you the first time I saw you,” he admitted. “I thought you were beautiful. Then, when you chased after me even though you knew what I am—” He cleared his throat. “You blew me away. I’ve...never known anyone like you. You were so determined to save me you’d have given me anything.”
Erin made an inarticulate sound that probably started as denial but failed to take shape.
“I wanted to take everything you’d give.” He had to suck in a deep breath before he let himself say, “I still do. But only a creep would do that.” Cole groaned. “No, I have to say this. I’m not somebody you’d want to keep for good.” His shoulders tried to draw up like a turtle pulling back into its shell. Lay it out, he told himself. “When you lose interest in me, I could be wrecked.”
Something breathtaking lit her face. “What makes you think—”
“I didn’t even go to college. You’re a professor.” When she opened her mouth, presumably to argue, he talked right over her. “We don’t have anything in common. I spent ten years in a prison cell while you had a real life. Friends, lovers. I can hardly remember having either. You had to teach me to drive again. I probably know less than little kids about computers or anything electronic. No matter where I go or what I do, I’ll never catch up.”
“You think knowing how to use apps on a phone is a measure of how worthwhile you are?”
He shook his head. “That’s not the point. The point is that I work with my hands—when I can get someone to believe I won’t murder them the minute they let down their guard. That’s what getting a job will come down to.”
Erin was quiet for a minute, and Cole had a sinking feeling. It told him that, despite his intentions, he’d hoped to fail at getting her to see how unequal they were.
“You’re a reader,” she said, surprising him. “When we talk about books, you understand them as well as I do. Your perspective is different and interesting.”
“That’s not—”
“Now it’s my turn,” she said sharply.
Cole nodded, conceding the point, pretending to be relaxed.
“At the rate you’re reading, you will catch up. I doubt most college grads read as voraciously as you do, or bother to keep educating themselves. And while you work with your hands, you do more than that. I saw you designing the ramp for the Zatlokas.”
“You saw me looking it up. There are formulas—”
She poked a finger at him to shut him up. “I have no doubt you could design something a lot more complex than a wheelchair ramp, especially once you get computer literate enough to use CAD software.”
Apparently, she’d really listened when he talked about computer-aided design and the class he regretted not taking.
“You’re an incredibly hard worker. Generous. You’ve made friends up and down the block, Cole. Helped people without waiting to be asked. They trust you.”
“They don’t know I’m an ex-con.”
“Do you really think they’d change their opinion if I told them now? Mr. Zatloka, whose life you may have saved? Mrs. Z, whose life you’ve made easier?” Erin shook her head. “You’re more than you think you are, Cole.” Her smile was sad. “But I also know I’m talking to a deaf man. You have to learn this for yourself.”
“You mean, even a college professor can’t teach me?”
His rejoinder startled her, and for a fleeting instant awakened complicated emotions she didn’t want him to see.
She only shook her head and said tartly, “And what makes you equate sex with hearts and flowers, anyway? We could have shared something in bed that didn’t mean commitment or hurt feelings later. We’d both have a memory. It’s a lot more likely you’d dump me than the other way around. You’ve made it clear you’re ready to move on. What makes you think I’d try to cling?”
Hadn’t she understood what he was saying? He would be the one who held on with everything in him, even as she slipped away. Cole already knew his feelings would be hurt. He hurt enough, just thinking about moving out of the apartment, about not seeing her every day, if only for a few minutes while they ate lunch.
But he’d become stuck on what she’d said before that. We could have shared something in bed that didn’t mean commitment or hurt feelings later. We’d both have a memory.
Cole would give almost anything for that memory. When he was alone, he could take it out and hold it, his one treasured possession.
She seemed to shake herself. “Forget what I said. You’re a man. You’ve probably found women. I’ll bet that was the first thing you thought about when you walked out of prison, wasn’t it?”
“No.”
Her eyes widened. That voice hadn’t sounded like him.
“You didn’t...” she began tentatively.
“What I thought about was not being watched all the time. Being free to make my own decisions. To go for a walk in the middle of the night if I felt like it, dive into a lake, not see anyone wearing a uniform. I was hopeful and scared.” He leaned forward, his voice raw from his intensity. “Do you know what it’s like to have no place to go, nobody willing to take you in? To have no goddamn idea where you’re going to lay your head, or whether you’ll screw up without even knowing what you did and find yourself back inside so fast your head spins?”
“I... No.”
Muscles rigid, he said, “All those years, did I think about how it felt, having a soft woman beneath me? Yeah. But during the stretch before I met you, I was too pissing scared to put that on my to-do list.”
They stared at each other, her eyes dilated, his... He didn’t know.
At last she whispered, “What about since you’ve been here?”
He shook his head. All he’d been able to see was her. She must have guessed that.
“Then—” Her gaze broke away from his. She appeared to focus on the kitchen window.
Then? Cole’s body tensed. Had she been about to ask why they couldn’t have that memory? Suddenly, he couldn’t think of a single reason making love with this woman would be a bad idea. Down the line, he’d hurt, but at least he’d know she wanted him.
“I was being stupid. When you want something too much...” He had to clear his throat.
Her vivid eyes met his again. “You mean...?”
“Yeah.” Did she understand what he was saying? He should make a move...but pride wouldn’t let him.
She kept staring at him. He was getting dizzy and realized he’d been holding his breath by the time she finally spoke. “I don’t know. The other day...you made me feel really awful.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” he said huskily. “I... Please.”
After one more, breathless moment, Erin got to her feet, circled the table and laid a hand on his cheek. He saw fear and doubt on her face, but also something that had his heart pounding.
He pulled her onto his lap and captured her mouth with his.