If I Can't Have You (Mills & Boon Spice)

by BETH KERY

  Eric absorbed this fascinating tidbit of information as the children vied for a central place before the mirror. He wanted to ask more about what Colleen had said about him, but he couldn’t figure out how to without seeming obvious.

  “It’s not very realistic,” Brendan said, inspecting the pair of them in the mirror. “Who would believe that a doctor could be so much shorter than her patient?”

  “Who would believe that a patient would be bleeding so much when they have such a good doctor?” seven-year-old Jenny responded with admirable quickness.

  Eric smiled. He liked Jenny’s feistiness. He’d met her last summer at the fundraiser for The Family Center. Jenny had been surprisingly focused and determined on the task of dunking Harbor Town’s mayor, Tony Tejada, in the dunking booth, despite the fact that her small arm wasn’t quite up to the task of hurling a baseball the full distance required. Tony had agreed nonchalantly when Eric had suggested moving the mark up a few feet to give Jenny a fighting chance. Tony’d paid for underestimating Jenny’s resolve and skill. The tall, slender, seemingly delicate girl had felled the mayor on her first attempt at the newly designated mark. She and Eric had shared a satisfied grin as Tony sputtered and thrashed around in the water behind them. When she’d recognized Eric after Brendan’s surgery, they’d quickly resumed their budding friendship.

  Did he like Jenny because she reminded him so much of her mother, minus the defensiveness? Eric suspected that was part of it. One thing was for certain: Jenny was a force to be reckoned with, just like Colleen.

  “Lots of doctors are shorter than their patients. I’d imagine that’s typically the case with Dr. Leung, the lady who gave us Jenny’s scrubs,” Eric told Brendan mildly. “A good surgeon has a strong heart, a quick brain, a sharp eye and a steady hand. I’d say Jenny has all the makings of one.”

  Brendan gave a big-brother snort at this, but Jenny just smiled up at Eric proudly. She jumped and hooted in excitement when someone knocked.

  “Look at our costumes, Mommy!” she squealed as she flung open the door. “Eric helped us. See? A real stethoscope…and look at my surgeon’s pants and shirt and hat and see this here?” She reached into her pocket. “This is one of those things…a tongue presser…”

  Colleen glanced at him in the middle of Jenny’s exuberant demonstration of tongue-depressor use, her aquamarine eyes wide in amazement. She’d obviously just come from work. She looked very lovely, wearing a soft-looking, fuzzy ivory sweater, a skirt and a pair of calf-hugging leather boots. Her briefcase hung on her shoulder and her hair was styled up on her head with a few wisps brushing her cheeks.

  “And I’m the patient,” Brendan said, grinning. “Eric said if I had to use the crutches, I might as well have them work for me instead of against me.”

  “He was overenthusiastic with the blood,” Eric said as he hung the mirror back on the wall. “But I might have gone a little crazy with the bandages.”

  Colleen laughed as she examined her son’s costume. “You’re right. Every square inch of him is bloodied or bandaged.” Her gaze met his. Her curving mouth and sparkling eyes made him feel a little…

  …warm.

  “Mom was in on this, too? She said she dropped them off at your office half an hour ago. How long have you four been planning this little scheme?”

  “Just since Brendan’s appointment yesterday,” Eric replied. “He was so disappointed about not being able to get rid of his crutches before Halloween, I wanted to do something to help.”

  “Now I don’t mind the crutches at all,” Brendan said as he flew across the room in order to retrieve his empty candy bag. “Can we go now? It’s almost four o’clock. All the good candy will be gone.”

  “The good candy doesn’t disappear in the first minute, Brendan,” Colleen remonstrated with a laugh. She shook her head and glanced at Eric. “Thank you for helping them with their costumes. They’re fantastic…and so realistic.”

  “Only if I’m a psycho-doctor,” Jenny mumbled darkly as she eyed her bloody patient.

  Colleen burst out laughing. Eric caught her eye and grew two degrees hotter. She had an amazing laugh.

  “Mom, can we go, please?” Brendan begged.

  “Okay,” Colleen agreed, her laughter ebbing. “Tell Eric thank-you for all he’s done and say goodbye.”

  “He’s coming with us,” Jenny said as she charged for the door, Brendan on her heels.

  “Yeah, he said we could trick-or-treat near his house on Buena Vista Drive. I’ll bet they have the best candy in that neighborhood....”

  Brendan’s voice faded as he scurried down the hallway. She regarded him silently, all the humor gone from her expression.

  “It was his idea to go on Buena Vista Drive, not mine,” Eric told her quickly. He was quite certain she was going to pull the old frosty routine with him, as usual, but instead she smiled uncertainly. These occasional displays of her vulnerability were damn near killing him.

  “Do you really want to come?”

  He reached for his jacket. “I can’t wait.” He spread his hand at the back of her waist, his fingertips caressing slightly. The sweater was every bit as soft as it looked, but he mostly appreciated the feeling of her firm flesh beneath it. He urged her toward the door. For a second or two, she didn’t move, but just looked up at him quizzically. Her long, golden bangs spiked sexily around her eyes; there were a thousand points of green and blue and every shade in between in them.

  Finally, she shook her head and headed toward the hallway.

  Seeing no signs of protest, Eric gladly kept his hand just where it was. He’d never looked forward to trick-or-treating more in his entire life, childhood included.

  It was dark by the time they walked back to her car, Brendan’s and Jenny’s bags stuffed with candy. Children’s laughter and the distant “trick or treat” refrain punctuated the autumn night.

  Colleen watched Eric as they strolled down Buena Vista Drive. His chin was tilted down as he listened to Brendan’s story about a boy at school who’d been bullying some of the smaller kids. The topic had come up when they’d caught a glimpse of said boy—Dave Irkness—trick-or-treating across the street with a group of older kids. She’d never heard Brendan mention Dave before and was a little shocked he had so much to say.

  Was he opening up to Eric because he was a good listener, or did Brendan just require a male ear to discuss such a boy-related topic? Her son was close to both Liam and Marc, but her brothers had been unusually busy lately. There hadn’t been an opportunity for much one-on-one guy time. At least the kids would be visiting Marc and Mari in Chicago for the Thanksgiving weekend. Hopefully, Brendan could get in a little male bonding with his uncle then.

  Even though she felt a little sad her son hadn’t felt comfortable broaching the subject of Dave the bully with her, she was impressed with the way Eric handled the interaction. He affirmed Brendan had been smart in the way he’d dealt with things thus far by standing up for the bullied kids without stooping to Dave’s level. The few questions he directed toward Brendan assured Colleen that the teachers and administration had recently become aware of Dave’s bullying. She’d be sure to follow up quietly in the background with Brendan’s teacher, knowing how much he would hate it if she made a fuss.

  “Why don’t you guys come inside and warm up? I have something special I want to show you,” Eric said, turning toward her and Jenny.

  Colleen blinked and glanced toward the sleek, modern structure of wood, fieldstone and glass at the end of the driveway. She hadn’t realized where they were while she’d been so focused on overhearing Eric and Brendan’s conversation.

  “Can we see Eric’s house, Mom?” Jenny asked eagerly. A chilly lake breeze whipped past them, rustling the remaining leaves on the trees. Jenny shivered.

  “I don’t think so, honey,
” Colleen said, tucking a lock of dislodged pale gold hair back into her daughter’s surgeon cap. “It’s getting late. We should get home.”

  “Aw, Mom,” Jenny moaned, giving Eric a desperate, pleading glance.

  “It’ll only take a moment,” Eric promised. “I want to show you what I’ve been working so hard on, burning the midnight oil. It’s Liam and Natalie’s wedding present. It’s kind of a big deal,” he said when Colleen gave him a doubtful look.

  “We have to see it, if it’s for Uncle Liam and Natalie,” Brendan said reasonably, as if Colleen would be off her rocker to suggest anything otherwise.

  “All right,” Colleen agreed with a laugh that disguised her hesitance. Why did the idea of entering Eric’s home bother her so much?

  Eric surprised her, however, by not leading them toward the front door, but instead to a door to the three-car garage. He flipped on the lights.

  “There she is,” Eric said.

  Brendan immediately let out a stunned wow. Colleen stepped around Eric in order to see what had delighted Brendan.

  “Oh…it’s amazing,” she muttered, stepping closer to the mahogany antique boat perched on a trailer. “It’s a Gar Wood,” she breathed out in admiration, referring to the company that had made the finest custom-made, wooden speedboats in the country. She’d lived in the vicinity of Lake Michigan her whole life, and she came from a family that adored all sorts of water sports—swimming, diving and skiing. She knew a priceless boat when she saw one, and she knew the sleek craft before her not only packed a punch when it came to power, it was a collector’s item to boot.

  “Yeah…it’s a twenty-eight-foot Baby Gar. Originally built in 1929. Very rare. She’s named Lucy,” Eric explained as he fondly ran his hand along the hull. “Lucy is a piece of history. Infamous history,” he told Jenny, his dark brows twitching sinisterly, “but history nonetheless.”

  “What did Lucy do?” Jenny asked in a whisper, her blue eyes wide.

  “She was owned by a cutthroat gang during Prohibition who used her to transport liquor from Canada to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Lucy was so fast, none of the police boats could catch her. Not a one. She became a legend in those parts. Don’t get me wrong,” Eric told Jenny, who was looking a little wary as she surveyed the sleek craft. “Lucy has a heart of gold. It wasn’t her fault she was owned by a band of criminals. She became so famous for her quickness and courage, she was acquired by the Mackinaw Island police department after the gang was arrested, and she served the police loyally for fifty years before she was bought by a man named Albert Ravenswood, who restored her to her full former glory, board by board, about fifteen years ago. Then I bought her.”

  “And you’re giving Lucy to Uncle Liam and Natalie?” Jenny asked.

  “Yep. It’s their wedding present. I’m giving Lucy six coats of varnish and some antique brass instruments I ordered online. I’ve been busy making everything extra spiffy for Liam and Natalie’s wedding day.”

  “Wow,” Brendan repeated, apparently too stunned to say anything else. He began to circle the boat, and Jenny followed him.

  “I was going to put on some Christmas decorations for the special day. I thought it went with the wedding theme…what was it? A Lake Michigan Christmas? Do you think they’ll like it?”

  Colleen stared at him in amazement, but he seemed entirely genuine in wanting her approval.

  “It’s a rare piece of art and history. It’s a Baby Gar. Are Natalie and Liam going to like it? Are you mad? They’re going to adore it.”

  She blinked when he smiled. He looked unabashedly happy at her praise.

  “I’m glad you think so,” he said as they began to follow the children, circling the boat. “I know the Kavanaughs love all things water-related, and Natalie has always liked boating on Lake Michigan. I thought Lucy’d be a nice addition to their new family. What newlywed couple wouldn’t want some nights together on the lake under a blanket of stars?”

  “Now I’m about to accuse you of being the closet romantic.”

  His eyes gleamed when he glanced at her sideways. “I just thought they’d like it.”

  “You thought right,” Colleen murmured, studying his profile as he fondly inspected the boat. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to let Lucy go?”

  “They might have to pry her out of my hands, but, yeah—I think my better nature will prevail. You wouldn’t believe all the effort and drama I went through to get her.”

  “It’s an incredibly generous gift, Eric.”

  He did a double take. “Do you think it’s too much? I never budged from my bottom line. Besides, an investment I’d made happened to turn out really well, so I had a little extra to spare,” he said modestly.

  Colleen considered before she spoke. She didn’t know precisely what a boat like that would have cost, but she was quite sure the price tag would have been astronomical, even with Eric’s bargaining and investment prowess. She wondered how Liam would react to be presented with such a generous wedding gift. She glanced into Eric’s eyes and saw how concerned he was about her reply.

  “I think it’s clear how much you love your sister,” Colleen said quietly. “I think it’s obvious how much you want her to have a happy future.” She paused, and they faced one another. “Do I think it’s too much? No. I think it’s an amazing gift to start them off on their new life together.”

  “You don’t think I’m coming off as an arrogant snob?” he murmured, one raven eyebrow arched.

  Colleen had the decency to glance away in embarrassment. It was precisely what she would have thought of his gift a year ago.

  “No. I think it’s a generous, but also a very personal and heartfelt, gift. The fact that you worked so hard to get it and are putting some of your own labor into it only adds to that. Natalie is lucky to have a brother like you,” she finished hoarsely.

  “Colleen.”

  She kept her gaze averted, but something about the resonant timbre of his hushed, deep voice made her heartbeat escalate. That increasingly familiar feeling of longing she’d been experiencing lately chose that moment to swell in her chest.

  “Yes?” she asked softly.

  “I know Lucy is an eyeful, but do you think you could look at me?”

  She hesitantly dragged her gaze off the boat to Eric’s face.

  “I’m sorry for pushing you the other night,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “You don’t have to apologize. I’m over it.”

  His mouth twitched at that.

  Not that she was staring at his mouth or anything.

  “Are you sure there isn’t some other reason why you don’t want to become involved with me?”

  Colleen glanced furtively at the back of the boat. She could hear the children talking excitedly on the other side.

  “I told you. I’m not ready to be in a relationship. Besides, haven’t we already established that you don’t take your relationships seriously anyway?”

  He grimaced in obvious frustration and took a step toward her. Her breath caught when he reached for her hand. “Didn’t we cover this? I do take it seriously. Very seriously.”

  For a moment, her entire awareness resided just beneath his thumb stroking her wrist below the ridge of her palm. She blinked, forcing her sluggish brain back to its logical task.

  “You take sex seriously. I don’t want to be in a casual sexual relationship,” she whispered.

  “You have to give me a chance, Colleen. I’ll go at your pace, but you have to let me in, just a little. Maybe it’ll become more than just attraction, if you let it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You don’t really buy that. Not you. Not the Great Disbeliever.”

  “I’m beginning to really wish we could start this whole thing over again,�
� he grated out between a clenched jaw.

  “Well, we can’t,” she whispered feelingly.

  “Sure, we can.”

  His eyes looked hot. The lines of his face were rigid, making him appear almost fearsome in his determination. She found herself leaning into him, as helpless as a planet feeling the magnetic pull of a burning star.

  Chapter Seven

  They were interrupted by a shout from Brendan.

  “Mom, you gotta see the leather seats…and check out these instruments!” Brendan called ecstatically. The angle of her son’s voice made it clear Brendan had somehow boosted himself into the air to look down into the boat.

  “Excuse me,” Colleen murmured abashedly, extricating her wrist from his hold. Had she really just almost made out with Eric Reyes with her children fifteen feet away? He watched her from beneath a lowered brow. His face looked impassive, but his eyes spoke to her in concise shorthand.

  He desired her, and more than a little bit. And Eric Reyes wasn’t the type of man to want something more than a little bit and not get it.

  She wanted him, as well. She found him more and more attractive every minute she spent with him.

  But Colleen knew she wasn’t the type of woman to sleep with a man just because she found him attractive. Sexual attraction was nice. Lust was nice. But she was accustomed to more. She really didn’t have the energy required for a fling, not with a demanding job and two children to raise.

  “I think he’s been climbing again. Crutches and all,” Colleen said, starting to move around the boat.

  Her words seemed to finally break Eric’s intensity.

  “Brendan, hold on and stay put!” he called loudly as they both hustled around the boat. Sure enough, her son had managed to pull himself onto the trailer and was lying across the side of the boat, his chest and arms out of sight, the padded, blue cover of his bandaged foot waving around in mid-air. Eric fleetly climbed up on the trailer and assisted Brendan back onto solid ground.