She pulled her hands from beneath the pillow and wrapped her arms around Eric's neck, effectively destroying the last of his reserve. He moved to lie beside her on the wide sofa, holding her next to him, keenly feeling the pressure of her thighs as he did so, catching his breath as her hips cradled against his own. He inhaled the scent of her, letting it fill his lungs and imprint itself forever on his mind. Touching his lips to her face, to her throat, to the gentle swell of her breasts above the straining lace, he learned and memorized the texture and feel of her skin, making it a part of himself.
Janet's hand boldly traveled from his waist to his thigh, and he mentally stepped aside as he waited to see where she would touch him next. Suddenly he understood what had just happened between them and knew he could let it go no further. Her extreme fatigue and the feelings that were growing between them had left her vulnerable and receptive. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, already regretting what he was about to do. "I think we should stop and think about this before we go any further, don't you?"
The groan Janet let out this time had nothing to do with passion. She struggled to sit up, pressing herself deeply into the corner of the couch. "Eric… I'm so sorry." Wishing she could simply disappear, she covered her face with her hands. "God, I'm so embarrassed."
He reached for her hands and pulled them away. "Janet, look at me." The smile he gave her was more a wonderfully delighted lopsided grin than the reassuring one he had intended. "Do I look like I'm complaining?"
Although he was trying to make things easier for her, she saw something in his eyes that told her he knew all of her secrets as surely as if he'd been able to step into her mind. And then, as she looked at him, something else happened that totally changed things between them once more. If she had broken their eye contact a moment sooner, she would have missed the passage into his soul. As plainly as if he had spoken the words aloud, she saw the reason he so clearly understood her. He lived with the same deep need to be held and touched and loved, and he held it as tightly in check as she did.
They sat there, staring at each other, terrified by what had just occurred and yet ecstatic because of its implied promise. Eric took her hand. "I've been looking for you for a long time," he said simply. "I can't tell you what it means to me that I've finally found you." With infinite tenderness, he leaned forward and kissed her. This time their kiss was one of budding friendship. "Although what I would really like to have you do is stay," he said softly, "I think you'd better go."
She would have stayed if he had asked, but her heart swelled with gratitude that he hadn't. What was happening between them needed nurturing time to fulfill its promise. Tonight they were both shell-shocked after their explosive lovemaking. It would take a while before they would be able to deal with their feelings. "Thank you, Eric."
"I'll call us a cab."
"You don't have to go with me."
"But I want to."
She touched the side of his face and smiled. "Every week for almost two years I have wandered all over this city at all times of the day and night all by myself—and nothing has ever happened to me. Trust me—I'll be all right."
"I'd still feel better—"
"Eric—that twenty dollars I used for the first cab fare was all I had, and I only have enough gas in my car to get me back to Palo Alto. Now if you come with me, how are we going to get you back home again?"
Begrudgingly he said he saw her reasoning and agreed to let her go alone. "When do you get off work tomorrow?"
Her eyes lighted with pleasure. "It so happens, I have tomorrow off."
"Then spend it with me."
She shouldn't. She had homework she had postponed doing all week because she knew she would have Saturday free. In spite of a powerful twinge of guilt, she nodded.
"What would you like to do?"
"Surprise me."
He smiled. "It's a deal. Can you pick me up, or should I rent a car?"
"Do you think you can fit those long legs of yours into a Volkswagen bug?"
"I did all through college."
"Then we'll take my car. Where are we going?" She grinned. "Should I bring lots of money?"
He clutched his chest as if mortally wounded. When he'd recovered, he winked teasingly. "As I recall, my bug got pretty good gas mileage, so twenty dollars should do it."
Reluctantly Eric left her and phoned for a cab. While they waited he rummaged through his mother's closet until he came up with a coat that fitted her. Janet had been afraid he would come out with a full-length fur that she would be paranoid about wearing. She was delighted when he handed her a beautifully cut wool coat.
"Except for the down jackets she takes skiing, it looks like this is about the warmest thing my mother owns."
"She doesn't wear furs?" Janet asked, surprised. She tried on the coat. It fitted perfectly.
"My mother would go naked before she would wear a fur coat. She has trouble with her conscience whenever she wears leather or eats a hamburger."
Janet looked up at him. "I think I just might like your mother."
"I know she's going to like you. Now why don't I get you a cup of coffee while we wait? That way the inside of you will be warm, too."
He'd taken her by surprise, and she was stuck for an answer. "Oh… I already had a cup… when you were on the telephone. It was…it was really different. How in the world do you—"
"I knew you'd like it. I grind the beans myself, and I've only been able to find one shop in town where I can get them in quantity. I buy them by the case and freeze them." Before he could add anything more, a horn sounded outside. He returned Janet's money before walking with her to the door. "Tomorrow—ten o'clock?"
"I'll be here." She lingered a moment, unsure whether to kiss him goodbye. Eric took the decision out of her hands when he caught her to him in an eloquent embrace, giving her a lingering kiss that told her how reluctantly he was letting her go.
All the way to the hotel and then to Palo Alto, she had a silly grin on her face. As she let herself into the house, she decided that sometime next week she was going to have to call Casey and thank her for getting involved with a ring of car thieves. The thought made her laugh. She could just imagine Casey's reaction to a phone call like that.
7
The next day Janet arrived at Eric's house fifteen minutes early and knew a moment of keen disappointment when she discovered he wasn't home. She was on her way back to her car when a cab pulled up in the driveway and Eric got out, carrying two large sacks of groceries.
He gave her a wonderful smile of welcome as he strode across the lawn. Dressed in jeans and a tweed jacket, he looked younger and more carefree than Janet had seen him before. "Have you been waiting long?"
"I just got here."
"Reach into my front pocket, would you? The key for the door is in there."
Janet felt a blush warm her cheeks. "How about if I take the bags instead? Then you can get the keys yourself." She shifted his mother's coat from her arm to her shoulder and prepared to take the groceries.
He chuckled as he handed her the bags, adding shyness to the list of things he was learning about her.
"Good grief," she said, staggering under the weight. "What do you have in here?"
"Supplies for our picnic."
"And who are the other ten people we're inviting to join us?"
"Think I got a little carried away?"
"Only if we're planning to stay less than a week."
Eric opened the door and reached for the bags. "I believe in being prepared."
"You and the Boy Scouts."
"Come into the kitchen. I have a real treat in store for you."
Janet closed the door and followed him. When they neared the living room, however, she veered off in that direction, drawn to the window and the breathtaking sight of the Golden Gate Bridge spanning the mouth of San Francisco Bay. She had never seen this side of the bridge before. She stood there, mesmerized by the raw beauty of the gently rolling
hills of grassland on the opposite shore and the breathtaking effect of the morning sun as it reflected off the water like millions of beckoning diamonds. Today was one of those special early winter days in San Francisco when there wasn't a trace of the area's famous fog to hamper the view. The air was so clear that it seemed feasible she could see forever.
Eric came up to stand beside her. "No wonder you never left home," she said. "If I had grown up in a house with this kind of view, I don't think I would have left, either."
"The four years I sat in front of this window when I was a kid gave me a love of the sea that has never left."
"Why only four years? If I were you I would have had my nose pressed against the glass all the time." She glanced up at him.
"I had a problem with my heart, and there were delays in arranging the necessary surgery to repair it," he stated simply, relaying none of the trauma or desperation that had controlled his family's existence back then.
"And now?" she asked softly, almost afraid to trust her voice.
He drew her to him and held her, deeply touched by the loving concern he saw in her eyes. "I'm fine." He pressed his lips against her fragrant hair in a fleeting kiss. "I even jog—remember?"
Reassured, Janet put her arms around his waist and held him tightly. "Something tells me I will never be allowed to forget that auspicious evening."
Eric chuckled. "Stand back and let me look at you," he commanded, changing the subject.
Janet readily complied, shrugging out of her coat, delighted he had thought to call attention to how carefully she had dressed that morning. She was wearing the brown light wool slacks Carol had given her last year for Christmas and the tan sweater she had found at Loehmann's to go with them. It was the best casual outfit she owned, and she willingly turned for his inspection.
"You look fantastic."
She gave a little bow. "Thank you, sir. I'm glad you approve."
"Do you realize this is the first time I've seen you dressed in what could be considered normal clothes?"
"I can't say the thought didn't occur to me once or twice this morning." Not only had it occurred to her, it had been her constant companion as she tried on every halfway suitable thing in her closet. She took his arm. "What's this surprise you have for me in the kitchen?"
"Can't you smell it?"
Instantly Janet grew wary. What she had thought she smelled when they first came in was a lingering charcoal odor—as in burned food. "I… I'm not very good at guessing games."
"I got up early this morning and baked chocolate chip cookies for our picnic. It's been years since I had any, and I thought maybe it might have been a while for you, too. I had to wake up my neighbor to get most of the ingredients—everything but the flour and salt to be precise." He chuckled. "It's a good thing she likes me." He looked so pleased with himself that she didn't have the heart to tell him she had made a double batch of chocolate chip cookies for Brian and Amy just the week before. "You didn't tell me you were a man of so many talents."
He guided her into the kitchen. "Before I moved onto The Promise, I'd never boiled water. I've come a long way in the past few years." He guided her into the kitchen.
"Before you promised yourself what?" she repeated, losing part of his sentence in the sound of the closing door.
Eric's answer died on his lips when he looked at the table and saw that one of the bags had fallen over, spilling its contents all over the floor. "Dammit," he mumbled, angry with himself for not taking the time to be sure the bag was balanced. He bent to pick up the jars, checking them for cracks before putting them back on the table.
Janet went after a can of stuffed olives that had rolled over to the refrigerator. She took it to the counter where she discovered Eric's cookies piled high on a plate. She surreptitiously studied them. The cookies were only slightly less dark than their chocolate chips.
Eric caught her staring. "They're a little overdone, but they taste great." He took one from the plate and offered it to her.
There were too many butterflies doing their thing in her stomach to find any room for one of his cookies. "I'd better not," she said, pressing her hand to her mid-section. "I had a big breakfast."
He took a bite and happily crunched away as he went back to gathering things for their picnic.
Janet fleetingly wondered if anyone had ever told him chocolate chip cookies weren't supposed to sound like toasted almonds when chewed. "Where are we going?"
"Sonoma—ever been there?"
"I don't know if I have or not. Where is it?"
He frowned, taken aback that anyone who lived in California was unaware of Sonoma. "You know… the place where those pushy settlers told the Spanish they were declaring California a state." When that failed to elicit a response, he tried again. "Wine country?" he prodded.
That did it. She gave him a big smile, delighted with his choice. "Fantastic. I've always wanted to go up there."
"I can't believe you've lived in California all this time and you've never been to the wine country. I thought you said you'd done the West Coast."
"I have—Portland and San Francisco."
"That's it?"
"Pretty much, except for a few miles into Washington. My folks had a cabin near Mount Saint Helens, where we went weekends and vacations."
"Did they lose the cabin in the explosion?"
"No, they were far enough away to miss the major force of the blast. They did get a ton of ash they had to clean up, though."
Excitement shot through Eric. He caught her by the waist and pulled her into his arms. "If you'll let me, I'll show you the world."
She laughed. His enthusiasm almost made her believe him. "If we don't get started, we'll never see Sonoma." It felt so good to be in his arms, she wasn't sure she really cared whether they ever left or not.
Eric stared at her; an ache filled his chest. She was so beautiful. How he wanted her…and how he would scare the hell out of her if he didn't stop his thoughts right there. "You're right," he reluctantly agreed. He lightly touched her lips with his own. It was a mistake. Instead of the simple, friendly gesture he had intended, he found himself in a desperate mental battle to keep from kissing her again. The last thing he wanted to do was let her go, but he did. He was playing for higher stakes and wasn't about to screw things up between them on their first real date by coming on like a randy teenager. "Why don't you get the basket out of the pantry, and I'll finish unpacking," he said, amazed at how calm he sounded.
Dazed by the powerful feelings Eric's simple kiss had aroused, Janet went to the other side of the kitchen and opened the pantry door. She turned on the light and stepped inside, stopping to catch her breath and calm her racing heart before reaching for the large wicker basket sitting on the top shelf.
Trying to understand and to put into perspective the impact Eric was having on her, she took a minute to think about the days when she and Robert had first dated. Had there been a time when she had felt about him the way she now felt about Eric? Had there been a point in their relationship when she'd thought the ground had been removed from beneath her or that the entire world had gone from gray to Technicolor? Either her memory had grown dim, or nothing like this had ever happened to her before.
Robert had been her first real boyfriend, and she had been painfully naive and had not understood her slow awakening of sexual urges. She had been curious, yet frightened by them. She was no longer naive. The stirrings and the longings she felt were readily identifiable, though lately, not very common. Still, she was a little frightened—not by the hunger Eric had awakened, but by its intensity. Up until last night, that hunger had only afflicted her when she was asleep and dreaming of him. How was she ever going to cope with something that was this consuming when she was wide awake?
She reached up to get the basket. All Eric had done was give her one brief kiss, and she had nearly attacked him. Though she had come to think of herself as a thoroughly modern woman, she had never tried the role of aggressor in a r
elationship—both because it had seemed unappealing and because, until she had met Eric, there had been no one she cared that much about. If she were to walk back into the kitchen and see the same look in Eric's eyes, she wasn't sure what she would do.
Grasping the basket handle, she resolutely headed back into the kitchen. Eric was at the sink measuring water into a glass coffeepot. He looked up when she came over to stand beside him. "I thought I'd make us some coffee for the thermos."
Remembering the coffee he had made the night before, she gulped. Disposing of the evidence to save his feelings would prove far more difficult when they were constantly together. She had been dumb to let him think she liked the stuff in the first place. Now what was she going to do? "Coffee? In wine country?" she gasped. "Surely there must be some law against it."
He grinned. "There probably would be if the growers thought they could get away with it."
She took the pot from him and poured the water down the drain. "Let's not take a chance on upsetting the locals." To distract him, she shoved the basket in his hands. "The sooner we get going, the sooner we get there."
When she offered to help with the packing, Eric sent her back into the pantry to find a checkered tablecloth and napkins. By the time she located both, he was finished with the food and ready to go.
Two hours later they were looking for a parking place in Sonoma. As one of the oldest cities in California, the community drew visitors even in the off-season. After two more hours, in which Janet played tourist and Eric her guide, they were dodging raindrops as they ran across Sonoma Plaza on their way back to their car. Breathless and laughing, they scrambled inside, collapsing against the seats. "What incredible weather," Janet said, wiping rain from her face with the back of her hand. "I would have sworn the sun was still shining when we went into the mission."
A Week from Friday Page 10
